Grief

Soap

"I can't lose him!" Merlin bellowed to the great dragon. "He's my friend!"

...

Those words and that time seemed like a distant memory, a desperate cry to save Arthur when he was already gone. Despair was the only thing Merlin could register. Well, that and Arthur's body laying in his protective and gentle grasp.

A tree is the only support behind his back as Merlin cradles a no-longer breathing Arthur in his arms. Tears flow endlessly down Merlin's cheeks as constantly as the stars above shine and as deeply a the rapidly growing hole in his heart. Yet he doesn't sob. No, there's no uneven movement of his chest as that would disturb Arthur and if Merlin had learned one thing during his time in Camelot, it's that her Prince needs his beauty rest.

Arthur lays hauntingly still in the other's grasp, head resting comfortably on Merlin's chest. Normally, this closeness would only occur following a nightmare or particularly taxing meeting, times when Arthur needed that extra comfort and support. The fact it had happened due to Merlin's preemptive action was out of the ordinary and deeply unsettled him. The hurt of the recent events weighs so heavily upon his heart that it affects his body as well. Merlin's head droops and eventually buries itself in Arthur's golden hair. Arthur remains unmoving.

The smell of the soap in his hair brings Merlin back to that morning long ago when he first was allowed washed it.

~~~

"I'm not doing it Merlin." Arthur protested.

"But sire, if you would just let me-"

"Absolutely not! I am capable of washing my own hair. I'll hear no further on this."

Merlin huffed and turned away from the prince. Arthur did the same. Ever since he had joined the palace workers a few weeks prior and became his highness' personal servant, it seemed like they were becoming more like children than adults. Not one day went by when one didn't say something 'offending', nor that the other didn't snap back.

Merlin thought and pondered about how to get Arthur to trust him. No matter what he did, Merlin always felt as if Arthur were holding him at a distance and wanted nothing to do with him. It made sense why, he was a servant and Arthur a prince, but Merlin knew deep down Arthur didn't base his impressions of people on their titles. Why was it impossible to get him to realize that he was there to help?

An idea struck him. "Arthur, I'll be right back." He dashed out of the room, leaving an incredulous prince in his wake.

Minutes later, he returns with something wrapped in a cloth.

"What have you done now?" Arthur asked with an exasperated sound.

"Nothing of the sort, sire," Merlin stated, holding back a grin. He held out the object in his hand to Arthur. "Here, smell this."

"It's not poison, is it?" Arthur received an eyebrow in return. "Very well, then."

The prince took the object and peeled back the cloth, revealing a small square of a waxy substance. He smelled it and went still. Merlin watched carefully as Arthur's hand slightly shook as it registered the smell. The prince's eyes darted back and forth from the object in his hands to Merlin and back again. Another breath and he smelled it again, this time catching Merlin's gaze.

"Where did you get this?" Arthur asked evenly.

"I made it with the fresh herbs and flowers from the palace gardens." What he didn't mention is the fact that he has asked Gaius specifically for what the late Queen Ygraine had used for washing her hair, the same scent that King Uther had permanently burning in a chamber that housed a shrine to her. He perfectly replicated it even without the use of his magic.

Arthur said nothing, staring at the soap he had been given. Merlin took a small step forward.
"Gwen said that you liked these scents and showed me how to make it." Another step. "It's yours if you want it," He held out his hand. "If not..."

Arthur placed the soap back into Merlin's outstretched hand but kept his on top of it. The pressure made Merlin squirm. "I think..." he stopped mid-sentence.

"Arthur?"

"I think my hair needs washing and my arms are too tired to do anything after the training session."

Merlin's jaw dropped at the complete 180-degree turn around in attitude, almost dropping the soap as well were it not for Arthur's hand catching his own (and the soap, consequently).

"Do close your mouth, Merlin. We haven't got all day." Arthur walked away and out of sight, towards the bath that has been waiting and rapidly cooling the entire time they had been arguing.

Merlin scoffed at his unforeseen success and smiled too himself, following a handful steps after Arthur. "Yes, sire."

~~~

Keeping his head buried in Arthur's locks brought a sick sense of comfort to Merlin. His hair couldn't get dirty if he stayed in Merlin's arms. And if he stayed in Merlin's arms, he couldn't leave Merlin.

At least that was what he told himself to resist from screaming out to the world until he no longer had a voice to scream with.

Maybe this was all just a bad dream and he would wake up to Gaius telling him "Merlin, you're going to be late." He would wake up and sweet Gwen would help him with his duties. He would wake up and Arthur would, too.

He would wake up and Arthur would, too.