Merlin: Dawn of the Dragonlord

Chapter 21: Apologies

Chapter 21: Apologies

He wanted to smack that triumphant grin off Arthur’s face.  What was that selfish, brainless prince thinking?  He could have died.  Camelot would be without an heir.  They were doomed without him.  He shouldn’t even be here.  What was he thinking leaving Camelot like that, and for a servant?  But of course Arthur Pendragon didn’t think.  It was much easier for him to just put his life in danger whenever he pleased without thought of the consequences.  What of the outcome for his most trusted knights and his manservant?  What would Uther do to them if they brought back the body of his one and only son?  Of all the things Arthur had done, of all the risk taken over the last few years, this was by far the most self-centered course of action he had ever undertaken.

And now, on top of everything, he was going to take credit for what Merlin had done.  Should the prince be thanked for breaking the curse that could easily have reduced him to nothingness?  Was Merlin supposed to make way for that condescending idiot once again?  Certainly, his life couldn’t be that unfair.  

Arthur was beaming at him now, but Merlin’s hands were busy looking for something in the sand, something to grab, to break or to throw.  If he could just find the strength to get up and fling anything at Arthur’s grinning face…

“Prat!” he yelled

But his unsteady hand only managed to toss a few pebbles.

“You’re welcomed!” cried out Arthur with a wide grin on his face.  

“You pompous, arrogant, selfish arse!” Merlin shouted angrily.  “You could have died!  You could have got us killed!”

Arthur looked as though he had been stung.

“Me?  What about saving the entire valley from that curse?” he said, shaking a menacing finger at Merlin’s face.

“That was your plan now, was it?”

Merlin couldn’t help the bitterness he felt.  He had put so much effort into breaking that light that he barely had enough strength to stand.  Why was it his destiny to feel sore and exhausted each time Arthur had a moment of glory?

“What’s bothering you, Merlin?  Is it the fact that I thought of throwing your sword, or the fact that I saved your life?”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much,” he snorted.

Arthur’s mouth fell open.  “Is that why Lancelot’s sword is so remarkably planted into that tree?”  

“Better into the tree than into your head,” snapped back the young warlock.  

Lancelot threw him a reproachful glance but he ignored it.  Gwaine was leaning nonchalantly against a large rock and seemed vastly amused.

“I see that you aim hasn’t improved,” sneered Arthur.

But Merlin was unmovable.  “Nor have your manners,” he said, pausing meaningfully on every word.

Arthur threw his hands into the air.  “What do you want?  An apology?”

“What about a thank you?” Merlin burst out, completely exasperated.  “How can it be so hard?  Thank you, Merlin, for saving my life countless times.  Thank you for supporting me and always being loyal even though I was a bully and I made your life miserable.  Thank you for putting your life at risk every day that you breathe in Camelot so that I can keep being a prat.  Thank you for putting up with the pains and the headaches that come with performing magic far beyond what anyone has ever seen while at the same time being able to clean your room, polish your armour, whip up your dinner and clean your leech tank.”

“That’s Gaius,” muttered the prince.  “I don’t have a leech tank…”

“You get the point!” Merlin shouted breathlessly.

He wasn’t even looking at Arthur anymore.  He couldn’t bear another look into that beaming, self-arrogant grin.

“Is that what you really want?”

Merlin felt a little aback by the sincere tone.

“Hell, yeah!”

There was a silence, and then Arthur sought his gaze.

“Thank you,” the prince said, peering into his face.

“Err…. What?”

Arthur took a deep breath.  He even pressed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder.  

“Thank you for… all that you said.  And you can return to Camelot, if that’s what you want.  I won’t kill you or let my father do anything.  I don’t know how but…  Your place is there, you know.  I mean, it doesn’t have to be but it could be if you’d like.”

For a moment, Merlin remained sceptical, but the Arthur now standing before him was different from the pretentious prince.  On his face, there was a trace of that future king who had spoken at the Round Table in a time of need.

“I’m speechless,” Merlin declared earnestly.

“I knew I’d make that happen someday.”

And then, without warning, he caught Merlin’s head in the crouch of his arm and ruffled his hair with his knuckle.  Merlin winced, but he knew he had no chance to escape the firm grip.

“What was that for?” he said when Arthur released him.

The prince’s playful grin was in place again.  “That was for calling me selfish.  Don’t you know that I came all this way just to make sure you didn’t fall into some dark abyss?  I’m hopeless without you.”

Merlin snorted mischievously.  “I knew that already.”

“You have no idea how hard it is to come by a half-decent servant nowadays, even one as clumsy as you.  They’re all… I don’t know… awed in my presence.”

“That was never my case, I hope,” snorted Merlin again.

The only reply that he got was a strong nudge on the shoulder.

It was a strange thing to be standing on that beach where so much evil had happened, such dark magic had been gathered, and not feel anything else but cheer joy.  The dread that had gnawed at his heart night after night had been replaced by a soft breeze and a silver moonlight.  He felt whole again, whatever that meant.  And most importantly, he was going home.   

It took him a while to realise that Gwaine was glancing at Arthur and him as though they were two very odd people.  

“It feels kind of awkward to watch,” the knight finally said.  “Is this going to end in a hug?”