Don't Give Up on Me

Arthur was just getting ready to walk out of his room when Merlin barged in. The manservant had been holding a jug of wine. It knocked into Arthur, covering his shirt with dark liquid.

Arthur snatched the pitcher away from him. "You idiot! Can't you get through a single day without displaying your incompetence? I've got to go listen to petitions in five minutes, and thanks to your laziness, this was my last clean - "

"I'm done." The quiet words cut neatly through his tirade.

"What?" Arthur stared at him. "Done with what, the laundry?"

Merlin's head had been bowed, but he raised it now, and he was angry in a way Arthur had never seen before. It wasn't the blustering, exaggerated irritation he displayed when the knights had hidden his food or Arthur had piled on chores. It was quiet and fierce, and it ignited instincts in Arthur's mind that wanted nothing more than for him to run.

But this was Merlin for crying out loud, not a dragon, and he hadn't backed away from the dragon in any case, so he raised an eyebrow and waited for an answer. "Done with what?"

"With you."

The words fell small, heavy, and cold and dropped between them like a thrown gauntlet.

He licked his lips, wet shirt forgotten. He set the pitcher down on the table with exaggerated caution. "What do you mean, exactly?" Because there was no way Merlin meant that the way it sounded. He couldn't. It was one thing for his father to dismiss him, for Morgana to turn, but Merlin - He couldn't.

"I'm done with you, Arthur Pendragon. I give up. I quit. I'm leaving. Is that clear enough for you, or do you need a written proclamation?"

Arthur froze. "You can't," he said immediately.

Merlin laughed bitterly. "Of course not. Because according to you I'm an idiotic, useless, talentless, cowardly servant. Except when you need something. Then I'm your 'friend'. Or, more commonly, I almost am. Almost good enough, Merlin, have another crumb of hope. Maybe if you drink poison for me one more time, you'll be good enough. Maybe if you reveal one more traitor, I'll finally trust you - "

"If this is about Agravaine - "

Merlin laughed again. How it be so different from his usual happy one? "Why on earth would this be about Agravaine? I mean, he was the one to convince you to kill Caerleon, to mistrust Gaius, to not look into Gwen - "

"Don't say her name!" he roared.

"Or what, you'll exile me? After I faced Morgana for you? After I threw myself at the Dorocha for you? After everything? Grow up Arthur! Your feelings got hurt, you made her leave, and now you miss her. And you call me a girl! Well, I'm sorry, sire, sine of us don't have the luxury of blocking all mention of our beloved when thing things go sour. Mine's dead. You killed her, and to make up for it, you put me in a headlock."

Arthur gaped at him. "What?"

"You really are oblivious, aren't you? You don't even notice that Elyan would have gone after Gwen by now if she didn't keep sending him letters begging him to stay. You don't even notice when Gwaine gets that feeling of wanderlust, and I have to talk him out of wandering off. You actually thought I was happy, didn't you? Happy with your threats. Happy with the bruises from all those goblets. Happy being told I was worthless. I'm done. Gaius and I are leaving. We're going to Catha. Gwaine said he always wanted to see it. I think he might come too."

Merlin left. The door swung shut behind him.

Arthur threw the pitcher against it.

Then he sank into a chair and wept.