AU - Canon Divergence

Can be read as a Merthur fic or not

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Arthur throws open the door to his room, storming in after a long day in a bad mood. He tosses his sword belt onto the dining table. It thumps down loudly, sending a tremble down the servant's spine at the sound as he peers out from around the cupboard. He sees Arthur with a frown on his face, already removing pieces of his armour and tossing them onto the pile beginning to form on the table. Each clatter of the metal making contact with the wood sends a sharp, piercing sound through the chamber. Merlin winces, knowing it won't be easy to deal with Arthur today. 

He shuts the door to the cupboard, Arthur's nightclothes draped over his arm. He walks over slowly, watching the prince with cautious eyes. He's only been Arthur's servant for a short while, four months to be exact. Though according to many of the other servants and maids in the castle that is quite an accomplishment. Apparently, most don't last longer than the first month or two. Regardless, Merlin still hasn't grown accustomed to serving the prince of Camelot. He enjoys their banter, and even sees Arthur as a friend when the man was in a good mood, but at times such as these he's always at a loss for words. He didn't know what Arthur thought of him. Is he a servant? A friend? He would hope so. After saving the prat on numerous occasions he would like to have moved up to friend status.

Merlin reaches his hand out, passing the clothes to its owner. Arthur tears it from his hands rather roughly before heading behind the screen to change. Merlin is silent for a moment, feeling a sense of unease. He shifts from foot to foot, summoning up his courage to talk to the prince. 

"Did something happen?" Merlin asks.

He hears a growl from behind the partition. 

Merlin sighs, "You can always talk to me."

Arthur sticks his head out, brows creased in an obvious sign of annoyance. "And why, Merlin, should I confide in you with my troubles?"

Merlin shrugs, trying to act nonchalant. "I want to help. You are my prince."

Arthur's gaze seems to soften slightly. He sighs, looking more tired now. He steps out from behind the screen, nightshirt worn messily over his chest. He rubs at his forehead, seeming to try and rid himself of a migraine. 

Merlin shakes his head in disappointment at the sight of the rucked up tunic. Sometimes, he can hardly believe this man is the supposed Once and Future King. He moves forward with a sigh, helping to smooth down the fabric and tighten the laces on the prince's tunic. Arthur doesn't stop him, just stands there and waits, watching his servant work swiftly. 

"Sir Gareth has been tried for treason," Arthur finally says after awhile, eyes still trained on his servant.

Merlin looks up, hands still working at the ties. "Treason? What had he done?"

Arthur looks down, "One of the knights had found him relaying information to Cenred. My father has sentenced him to hang tomorrow."

Merlin finishes tying the last knot. He takes a step back, moving to clear the armour off the table. "Sir Gareth... I never expected him to be a traitor."

He can hear Arthur scoff, "Neither did I," he says in a dangerous tone, "I trusted him. He was my most loyal knight and he betrayed me!"

A loud clatter sounds in the room. Merlin turns with a jump, seeing Arthur had thrown an empty pitcher against the wall. The prince is furious once again, breathing heavily with nostrils flaring. He runs a hand through his hair, grip tightening around the blond locks. "How am I meant to rule a kingdom when I can't even trust my own knights? Who can I trust if I can't trust my knights?" his voice breaks, the regal tone he always carried gone.

Merlin picks up the pitcher and sets it down on the table. He watches the future king with worry, seeing the distress on the man's features sends an ache through his chest. He's tempted to reach out and console him. Tempted to do anything he can to make the prince see that there are people around him that he can trust. He thinks for a moment, before moving closer towards Arthur.

-----

"You can trust your friends," Merlin says.

The prince looks up to see his manservant standing close to him, a gentle smile on his face. Arthur lets go of his hair, leaving it sticking up in odd directions.

"Your friends and family won't ever betray you. Gwen, Morgana, the king you can always trust them," he says with a smile.

"And if they do? If they do betray me, what then?" Arthur asks, knowing he sounded like a pessimist, but at this point he no longer cared. 

Merlin smiles at him sweetly, none of his usual cheekiness there. He moves his hands behind his back. A quick flash of gold seems to cross the servant's eyes, though it is most likely a simple trick of the light. "Then you can always trust me."

Arthur regards his servant with uncertain eyes. Before he's able to say anything, Merlin brings a hand out from behind his back. The servant bows, holding out a single red rose in his hand. The flower seems to be glowing a faint gold. The thorns are gone from the stem, leaving the rose safe to hold. The petals are a deep crimson, creating a mesmerizing pattern as it swirls around the end of the stem.

Merlin looks up at him from under his lashes, the same smile still on his face. "Arthur, let this be my promise to you, a promise from a servant to his master. For as long as this rose blooms I will remain by your side. I will always be here; where I'm supposed to be, protecting and serving you. Even if the whole world has turned against you, I will remain here doing what I always do. All I ask in return, is that you will place your trust in me. Know that everything I do, I do for you."

Merlin stands up straighter once Arthur takes the rose from the servant's hand. His sweet smile now looks a little sad. "What do you mean?" Arthur asks. His voice is quiet, wondering about Merlin's last few words.

Merlin gives a knowing smirk. "One day, you'll understand. Until then, please, trust me."

Arthur glances down at the flower in his hand before looking back up towards the serving boy and giving a slow nod. Merlin beams at him, the same old goofy smile on his face. He turns towards the door, collecting the armour in his arms, and leaving the room.

Arthur looks back down at the rose again. He's still speechless from hearing what Merlin had to say. He twirls the flower in between his fingers, watching the numerous ways the light from the setting sun shines on its petals. He gives a quiet chuckle. That Merlin, always the odd one. This must be another one of his silly antics. Yes, that's it. That's all it is. 

He tosses the rose onto his desk, letting it lie there atop his stacks of documents. No point in dwelling on Merlin's words. He only said them to cheer him up. The rose will die in a few days. After all, no plant can survive that long. 

Arthur yawns, feeling better after his talk with Merlin. Despite the strange things the boy had said, he knows the servant was only trying to help. Besides, what he said is true. He has friends and family he can trust. People that care about him. 

The prince collapses onto his bed with another tired yawn. He curls up into the blankets, dreaming of strange manservants and roses. 

------

The quill stops moving in the prince's hand. Arthur glances down at the rose still lying motionless on his desk. Over a week has passed and the flower continues to bloom as brightly as it had on the day he received it from Merlin. Never once had the flower closed its petals, hiding itself away from society. It had displayed its beauty without fail day and night, seeming to not require any form of sustenance either. Arthur sets down his quill and moves to pick up the rose gingerly. Again, he spins it around in his fingers, inspecting it in every which way. As far as he can tell, the rose it all too real. 

The prince's mind wanders back to his conversation with his manservant. Merlin will remain by his side until the day the rose died... 

Arthur glances up, watching the servant clear away the plates from the dining table while humming a happy tune to himself. A smile seems to be permanently etched onto the boy's face at all times. Arthur can hardly recall a moment Merlin hadn't been smiling in at least one form or another. 

He tries to picture Merlin gone and sees the room as a desolate mess with no sound save for the scratching of his quill on his parchment. He sees the rose, lying dried up and withered atop his desk. The petals forming a pool of red around it. His chambers suddenly seem bleak, the colour and life drained out of it in an instant with the absence of his manservant. For the first time in a long while, he feels utterly alone. He shakes the image from his mind not wanting to see anymore.

Arthur can't remember when Merlin had become such an essential part of his life. The boy had simply appeared one day with his big ears and smile, deciding to assert himself into Arthur's world. The prince continues to watch Merlin as he hums innocently to himself, stacking the plates up on the table. 

He turns his gaze back onto the rose, turning it in his hand without a sound before Merlin suddenly speaks up from across the room. Arthur drops the flower back onto the table, pretending to be concentrated on his work as Merlin turns to look at him.

"Sire?" Merlin calls, raising an eyebrow.

Arthur looks up innocently. "Yes?" he says, having not heard his servants previous words.

"I said I'll be taking my leave now. Is there anything else you require?"

Arthur shakes his head. "No, nothing. Thank you, Merlin."

Merlin gives a small nod, still regarding the prince with curious eyes before leaving the room, taking the plates with him.

Once the door shuts, Arthur lets out a breath of relief. He leans back in his chair, slouching down and staring at the rose on his desk. He picks it back up and stands, moving towards his cupboard. He grabs a small vase and fills it with water from a pitcher. He drops the rose in then sets it down on the nightstand by his bed. He yawns, stretching his arms in the air before preparing himself for sleep. 

-----

The rose continued to bloom for years to come. Arthur would wake each morning from Merlin's call and find the flower still alive and well. It required no care. It simply bloomed with its full radiance each and every day without needing any sustenance.

He would wake on some mornings finding no one around. He would sit up in bed, searching around his chambers for any sign of his servant. After finding none, he would look towards the rose, letting a breath of relief escape when he finds it still blossoming. He would worry throughout the day nonetheless, afraid that he would return to his chambers one evening and find the rose shrivelled and dying in the vase. If Merlin was ever gone for longer than a day, the prince would find himself staring at the flower through the rest of the night. He would keep his gaze locked on the rose, afraid that if he looked away that it would die. 

Merlin would always return home eventually. Sometimes, the servant would show up the next day looking disheveled and tired, but still with that wide grin on his face. Other times, Merlin would appear days later, not simply looking tired but utterly exhausted. The boy would look about ready to collapse as he wandered around the chambers, trying his best to finish his list of chores. Sometimes, he came home with a limp in his step or a new wound somewhere that caused him to wince as he worked. Every time he asked where Merlin had gone, the servant would simply smile and give some half brained excuse. Arthur knew they were all lies, knew his servant was hiding something, but he could hardly care. As long as Merlin returned to him at the end of it all, Arthur was content with not knowing. After all, Merlin had promised. Everything he would do, it was for Arthur. And Arthur had promised to trust hm, so that was what he did.

Merlin always did hold true to his promise. Never once had he betrayed him. Never once had his servant's loyalty wavered, even when everyone else's had. 

First, there had been his father. The man had lied to him his whole life on the true circumstances of his mother's death and his own birth. His father had betrayed his mother. He allowed her to die in order to obtain an heir to his throne. Arthur may have forgiven his father, but he hadn't forgotten. He never would. It was why he rarely listened to his father after that, why he became more lenient with sorcerers.

Then, there had been Morgana. If it had only been the magic alone, he would not have minded. After all, he could understand why she hid it, but then there was her betrayal of the entire kingdom. She had taken the citadel, helped an invading army into the castle. She had tried to kill him on numerous occasions and tried to destroy Camelot just as many times. She had betrayed him the most out of them all.

Later, there was Agravaine. He had betrayed him the moment he stepped through the doors into the castle. His uncle had been a traitor for Morgana during the entirety of his service to Arthur. He had been the one to kill his father, to be the one that had brought much terror into the kingdom. Arthur had hated him. His only regret was that he hadn't been the one to kill him.

Lastly, there was Gwen. She had betrayed his heart. He loved her with every fibre of his soul and she had left him. She had chosen Lancelot over him the night before their wedding. One more day. That was all she had to wait. No matter how much she begged, how much she pleaded that she loved him he could no longer see it. She betrayed him, and there could be no second chances. He had to send her away, both of them with a broken heart. 

He only had Merlin now. Merlin and nobody else. The rest had betrayed him, left him alone, but he knew Merlin wouldn't. Merlin would never because the rose continued to bloom.

-----

Arthur yawns, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and turning over in his bed. He blinks a couple times, letting his eyes adjust to the light streaming in through the curtains. He groans, tired and exhausted from the previous day. 

"Merlin?" Arthur calls.

No response. 

Arthur sighs inwardly. Again? Where has he gone this time?

The prince opens an eye, peering at the spot where his servant usually stood in the morning only to find nothing but empty space. He furrows his brows and lets out a groan. It'll be a long day today it seems.

Arthur's about to crawl out of bed when his heart stops. He lies there, frozen in place on his bed, staring sideways at the vase on his nightstand. Arthur feels the breath escape him. He breathes quickly and in heavy pants, trying to get some air into his lungs for his pounding heart. His grip tightens around the covers, knuckles turning white. 

He scrambles out of bed, throwing the covers off him as he almost launches himself at the table. He stares, wide eyed, at the single petal lying silently against the tabletop. The unmistakable red of the rose sitting atop the wooden surface sends a chill down his spine. He reaches a shaking hand out, feeling the trembles rolling through his body as he picks up the petal. He holds it delicately in his palm, afraid it'll break if he's too rough. 

He looks towards the rose, seeing the rest of the flower still intact. He sets the petal down back onto the table, taking in a shaking breath to calm himself. Merlin is fine, it's one petal on a whole rose. That doesn't mean something has happened to him. 

With the new thoughts in his head to reassure himself, Arthur moves about his day. He tries to keep his mind off the flower in his chambers, doing anything he can to keep himself busy. He keeps repeating the mantra to himself, forcing his mind to concentrate on the task at hand. 

He returns to his chambers later in the afternoon feeling drained and tired. He drops his armour onto the table and looks around. He frowns at finding his chambers in the same state as he left it. He turns to look at the rose and stills. His shoulders drop, pupils blowing wide as he stares at the flower.

The rose is wilted. The stem is a sickly green shade and is bent at an odd angle. A blanket of red surrounds the vase, the petals all a blackened shade of crimson. Arthur takes a step forward, hardly able to believe his eyes. He dashes forward, dropping quickly to his knees by the small table. He gathers up the petals in his palm, hands trembling the whole time. 

Did Merlin leave him?

The very though sounds foreign. Merlin? Leave him? Those words don't seem to go together in a sentence. Merlin wouldn't leave. Merlin would never leave. 

Arthur quickly scrambles back to his feet. He pulls the rose gently from the vase before dashing out the door, careful not to knock the last few petals from the flower. 

He races through the courtyard, sprinting past his knights as they return from a patrol. He can vaguely hear Leon call his name as he passes but he pays him no mind. The only thought running through his head is Merlin. 

He bursts into the stables, scaring the stable hand half to death before mounting a horse and riding off into the forest. He can hear the thunder of hooves behind him as his knights have no doubt decided to follow. 

Arthur doesn't slow, only keeps his head facing forward as he races along the path, head swivelling around frantically for any sign of Merlin. He glances down at the rose still gripped in his hand. It continues to grow weaker, the petals dropping to the forest floor in a trail of red. 

Arthur only stops when he sees a faint glow being emitted from the trees in the distance. The light disappears quickly but it doesn't stop Arthur from investigating. He pulls on the reins of his horse, forcing it to a skidding halt. The knights quickly stop behind him, breathing heavily from the frantic ride through the woods. Arthur leaps off his horse and runs, not bothering to stop and explain himself. The knights run in after him. 

The king dodges branches and roots as he scrambles through the trees. He looks down at the rose in his hand once more. His heart leaps when he finds a single petal holding precariously onto the stem. His face pales, knowing there isn't much time left. 

He finally stops at the base of a large tree. He's breathless and panting, a sheen of sweat lining his brow from the mad dash. He sees Morgana's body first lying a short distance away. Her chest doesn't move, her eyes wide open in fear. Arthur steps away, tearing his gaze from his sister's body. The king looks on to find a pure white dragon coiled around the large tree, a small figure leaning against its belly.

Merlin.

The glow appears again, this time clearly being made by the dragon. It breaths a wisp of magic onto the boy lying against it, hoping to heal the wounded servant only for the magic to take no effect. Merlin continues to lie against the dragon, slumped and tired. The dragon whimpers, pushing its nose up against the boy. Merlin smiles at it, gently stroking its snout.

Arthur takes a step forward and immediately, the dragon hisses at him. It snaps its teeth, trying to scare the king away. 

Arthur takes a step back, hand already going for his sword before Merlin raises a hand. He strokes the creature's belly gently, soothing it. He mumbles a few words and the dragon backs off. It nuzzles its head towards Merlin, purring softly in worry. Merlin only smiles and pets it gently once more.

Arthur stumbles forward towards Merlin, not bothering to question why his servant was outside and alone in a forest with a dragon. He didn't care. He just wanted to make sure Merlin is alright. His hand tightens around the rose, the last petal still hanging loosely. The knights stand behind him, not daring to move.

The closer Arthur gets, the more blood he sees. Merlin has a hand pressed against his chest where a ring of red soaks into his tunic, forming a bloody rose on his chest. Merlin smiles at him, giving him a cheeky grin.

Arthur doesn't say anything, only kneels down beside his servant. Tears prickle at the corner of Arthur's eyes as he watches Merlin take in a laboured breath. Merlin continues to smile.

The rose remains gripped in Arthur's hand. His hands tremble as he watches the breath leave his servant, his only friend. A hand rests gently atop his own, stopping the tremors that run through his body. Arthur wants to ask what had happened. He wants to ask what Merlin's been doing whenever he disappears, but the words never come. They don't need to because he's known. He's always known. He's known ever since Merlin had given him the rose. 

He grabs Merlin's hand, feeling the coldness in his pale fingers. He holds onto them tightly, pulling it close to his chest, to his heart. He give his servant a small nod and a smile, letting him know that all is forgiven, that he finally understands.

Merlin relaxes, an old burden finally having been lifted off his shoulders. He slumps down lower, a gentle smile on his face as his eyes begin to close. 

Arthur can feel Merlin's fingers slip from his. He grabs hold, keeping a firm grip as streaks of tears fall from his eyes. Merlin sends him one last smile before his eyes shut. His head lolls to the side, resting against the dragon's belly. He can hear the dragon whimper beside him, nuzzling at the boy's neck as it tries in vain to wake him. Merlin's other hand slips from his chest, dropping limply to the grass at his side.

Arthur stifles a sob, dropping the rose on the grass before gathering the boy into his arms and burying his face into the servant's neck. He lets the tears fall freely from his eyes, pulling the boy in as close as he can. 

Arthur doesn't leave till nightfall. He would have stayed longer if not for his knights that had tapped him on the shoulder, informing him of his duties tomorrow. Arthur nods, wiping the tears from his eyes and standing on shaking feet. He turns, following the knights out of the clutter of trees. He looks back, eyes turning sad at the sight of Merlin lying limply against the dragon who has resumed its nuzzling. The king tears his eyes away and walks forward, leaving Merlin alone with a dragon at his back, a single crimson petal on the grass beside him, and a bloody rose blooming forever more on his chest.