Date Published: July 15th, 2022
Word Count: 3354
A/N: Starting off with a classic scars reveal cause Merlin doesn't really show skin in the show but you know that boy has some marks from the shit he's been through. He's also oblivious to how much others care about him.

Arthur swished the wine in his goblet around before taking another sip. He let out a satisfied hum. The day had been a long one, but in the low hours of the evening he could finally relax.

The prince was always on his feet; whether it was training with the knights or helping his father with matters in court, Arthur had many responsibilities that came before his own personal wants. A good horse ride through woods would beat a day of conferences every time. There were many days that he'd rather have spent doing nothing. Ironically, doing nothing was not something a royal was allowed to do. A royal was expected to serve as a constant role model for their citizens. His father had instilled it in him at a young age that he always needed to be doing something helpful for the kingdom.

Fortunately, a prince was not tasked with duties past sunset. Arthur was free to do whatever he pleased. With a star-filled sky outside his window and the low crackling of the fire, what pleased him was doing nothing. Right now, he could do nothing. There was no one around to see him.

The sharp clanging of something falling to the floor reminded him that there was, in fact, one person around to see him.

Arthur looked up from his wine, glaring at his manservant. In mere moments, the peaceful atmosphere was broken. The man was standing across the room with a guilty expression. There was a candle holder on the floor in front of him and a lone candle rolling away.

"The uh... the candle wouldn't go into the holder so I was trying to shove in and it just sorta..." Merlin gestured to where it was on the floor. "Sorry."

The prince emptied his goblet of its contents and clicked his tongue condescendingly. "Leave it to you to fail at something as simple as lighting a candle," he said. The words were harsh but there was no bite in his voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin's lips quirk up as he leant down to pick up candle holder. He let out a heavy sigh as he relaxed against his chair again. "When you're done cleaning that up, refill my goblet will you?"

"Of course Sire, but I have to say, as much as you accuse me of going to the tavern too much, you are certainly liberal with how much wine you drink," Merlin said from his place on the floor.

Arthur chuckled a little and closed his eyes, tipping his head back. "You see Merlin, the difference is that I don't turn into a bumbling idiot after a single sip of alcohol."

The manservant scoffed and grumbled about him never having seen him drink under his breath. He crossed the room to the small serving table where a large pitcher of wine sat. He glanced at how much was left, noting that the prince hadn't had as much as he thought. It was still mostly full. There was no way he was even tipsy.

Merlin shrugged, turning to take the pitcher to where Arthur sat. In a manner only he could achieve, he stumbled, spilling the wine all over the floor.

"For God's sake, Merlin!" he exclaimed as he jumped up from his chair. He quickly started inspecting his clothes, checking for wine that might've splashed on him. "How on earth did you manage to fall? There was nothing there to trip over! You're fortunate that you didn't get any on my clothes considering you're the one who's going to be washing them. Now I don't have anymore wine to drink, you clotpole!"

"Yeah it's not like I meant to spill the wine, prat," the boy replied grumpily. He grabbed the cloth napkins from the table and started to covering the spill. He wiped at the floor. "I have to clean this too."

Frustration washed over Arthur; was it too much to ask for a relaxing evening? He watched, hands on his hips, as Merlin did his best to wipe up the wine with what he had on hand. He faintly registered him talking about how he was planning to clean the floor this week anyway. It wasn't the end of the world and frankly, Arthur wasn't even that angry with his manservant. The weight of the day was pressing down on him and Merlin's clumsiness had struck at the most inopportune moment.

Merlin standing up broke him from his thoughts. As he placed the now empty pitcher back on the table, he noticed that some of the wine had gotten on his shirt. "Well I guess I'll add that to the list of things to clean," he mumbled, pulling the shirt up slightly to dab the spots with a napkin.

The action was such a simple one, so it's hard to believe it lead to Arthur's entire chest tightening. Merlin's lower back was revealed. His pale skin shimmered from the amber glow of the fire, but the end of a dark pink line prevented the prince from admiring him. A sinking feeling formed in his stomach; there wasn't a doubt in his mind about what that was, but he needed to know how it happened.

"Take off your shirt," he ordered.

Merlin startled and looked at him. His face was one of confusion, but he tried to mask it with a chuckle. "Uh, it's just a little bit of wine, I don't think that's necessary," he replied, looking down at himself.

Arthur didn't respond, marching toward him. His expression was deathly serious. The smile on Merlin's lips vanished and a look of concerned confusion took its place. He swallowed hard. He opened his mouth to speak, but the prince cut him off with a cold tone. "I said take off your shirt."

"Um... okay," the servant managed. He did as he was instructed, knowing better than to argue with Arthur when he was in one of his moods. He lifted his shirt and pulled it off over his head. Reaching up to fix his hair, he spoke again. "What's the big deal? Why did you..."

Merlin's voice trailed off as he looked at Arthur's face. He looked pale, furious, and mournful all at once. The air was charged with tension as he circled his manservant. He returned to stand in front of him and exhaled shakily. He brought a hand up to his mouth as he looked down, closing his eyes as he tried to think.

Merlin's entire torso was marred with scars. Some looked like clean cuts that must have happened during some bandit attacks or battles. Others looked jagged, like they'd been caused by creatures with claws. Those were of the least concern to Arthur. The center of Merlin's chest held a scar large and slightly rough; if he had to guess, he'd assume it was from fire, but it as too accurate and deliberate to be an accident. Encircling him in rings were faint marks that looked almost like chains. There worst one was on his back. Standing out against the faded pink lines of the other scars was a large puncture. Even though it was clearly old, the wound still looked aggravated and the skin around the puncture was a shade of dark pink.

The prince finally looked up. "How... how did you get these?"

"The scars? That's what this is about? Oh, they're really not something to make a fuss about, Sire," his manservant replied easily. He shrugged, looking down at his chest. "It happens when you go out on quests and missions all the time."

"Don't play dumb with me Merlin," Arthur almost growled. He was not okay with how unbothered Merlin was. He stepped forward again and pointed at the burn on his chest. Merlin tensed at the action, sensing that the prince was truly angry. "You don't just happen to get burned in the shape of a circle in the middle of your body. That had to be caused by magic. And that on your back! That is not something you could've gotten while we were hunting or fighting bandits! So I'll ask you again Merlin, how did you get these?"

The question hung in the air between them. Merlin swallowed, looking nervously down at his body. "I got them from protecting you, obviously," he said, trying to avoid the question. "You know, you have a lot of enemies and we face many kinds of threats. It can't be that surprising that I have some scars, Arthur. I don't mind them, I told you they're not something to worry about."

"Merlin," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "That does not answer my question or-"

"What is the problem here?! I have some scars, so what? I got them from doing my duty to Camelot!" Merlin snapped. His tone was defensive and frustrated. He stepped away from him to have more space between them and he gestured to the prince. "You have plenty of them!"

Arthur shook his head. "I'm a knight of Camelot. I'm supposed to have scars. You're not."

"What is that supposed to mean? I'm not supposed to defend my home or the people I love? As much as you like to insult me about it, I'm not a coward," his manservant replied. He looked like he was seething as he continued. "I have every right and a responsibility to protect you and I-"

"YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO GET HURT!" Arthur finally shouted, grabbing him by the shoulders. Merlin's eyes grew wide as he met his. "God Merlin, you're not supposed to protect me, I'm supposed to protect you! What would I do if something happened to you?!"

A tense silence fell over them as they stared at each other. Merlin's mouth hung open in shock and he was blinking rapidly, like he was having trouble processing. The prince hung his head as he left out a shaky breath. His hands squeezed Merlin's shoulders as he spoke softly. "I can't- you..." He shook his head again, searching desperately for the words to express his feelings. He'd always been rubbish at emotions. Arthur took a deep breath and looked back up to meet Merlin's eyes. "I can't bear to see- or know that you would- I don't want you to get hurt. I couldn't bear it if you got hurt- or God forbid died- being the stupidly loyal idiot you are."

"I didn't know you cared so much, but someone has to keep an eye on your royal backside," Merlin said quietly. Arthur let out a sad chuckle, blinking as his eyes dampened a bit. Hands took a hold of his and gently took them off of the servant's shoulders. They didn't release them though, rather bringing them in to cradle them between the two men. "Arthur, it's my choice to go with you, to fight with you, and yes, to protect you. I would happily give my life for yours in a heartbeat."

The prince's gaze snapped up from their hands to his eyes. "I know, that's what scares me," he said.

Arthur's mind would forever be scarred by the sight of Merlin dropping to the ground after drinking poison meant for him. They hadn't even known each other that long, but he hadn't hesitated. If Arthur had been a little slower or not been able to get the Mortaeus flower, he would've died. He recalled that day by the beach when he faced his final test to redeem himself after killing the unicorn. Merlin had been so adamant that it was he who should die even though the curse was Arthur's fault. He thought about all the times he told him to leave for his own safety, or told him not to come for that same reason, and how every time Merlin had ignored him in favor of helping him.

"I just... I didn't know you had been getting hurt like this," the prince continued. "I thought I had always done a good job of keeping you out of danger, but there's so much I don't know."

"Well, I do have many talents you don't know about," Merlin joked with a smile. It worked to cheer Arthur up. He let out a disbelieving laugh, a small, but genuine, smile on his face. The manservant looked down at where there hands were still grasping each other. He moved his thumb to brush one of the other man's hands soothingly. "Look, I... I have some secrets, I think you know that. I want you to hear me right now when I say, I will tell you them. They just have to wait until the right time. I has nothing to do with whether I trust you or not, because I trust you with my life. I want nothing more than to tell you everything, but... it's just not the right moment. I know that I'll be able to tell you someday, and I hope that when that day comes, you'll know and believe that. Does that... does that make you feel any better?"

Arthur took a deep breath, letting the words digest. There was still an uneasy feeling in his stomach. It hurt that Merlin wouldn't tell him right now, but he understood that it wasn't his choice to make.

He nodded and gave a small smile. "I do feel better, thank you," he said sincerely. "I'm sorry about my reaction, I'm not really... I'm not good with this sort of thing."

"I already know that dollophead," Merlin teased. The prince looked up to glare at him, seeing the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. It was a familiar and comforting sight.

It was Merlin's turn to take a deep breath, but it broke into a yawn midway through. "Oh gosh, I forgot what time it is," he said, glancing outside at the midnight sky. He immediately started tugging him toward his bed. "It's about time you go to bed, Sire. If you fall asleep during the council sessions tomorrow, your father will never let you hear the end of it. Besides, I bet you're exhausted from all those... emotions."

"I'll have you know that I'm fine-" Arthur's sentence was cut off by a large yawn of his own. It caused his manservant to smirk smugly, to which he rolled his eyes. "Fine, I admit it, I'm very tired."

"Then let's get you to bed," Merlin said with a smile.

He turned to get night clothes from the wardrobe and handed them to the prince. As he disappeared behind the changing screen, the manservant moved on to the other parts of the room. He put his shirt back on, still stunned at what had occurred. He started gathering all the dishes together so he could carry them all to the kitchen at once. Glancing down at the floor, he frowned at the wine; that would have to wait until he had something to actually clean it with. However, he did pick up the soaked napkins and added it to the tray of dishes.

Movement behind him caught his attention. Arthur was finished changing and sitting on his bed, looking a little embarrassed. He was fidgeting with his fingers. Merlin smiled sympathetically and walked over to him. "It's okay to be overwhelmed by your emotions sometimes. It's normal," he reassured him.

"I know that, Merlin," Arthur mumbled. His expression looked conflicted, like there was something else he wanted to say. After a few beats of silence, he inhaled and exhaled slowly. He then looked up to meet his manservant's eyes. They shimmered with such warm and kindness that was honestly overwhelming to the prince at times. This was the man who cried whenever he killed a deer while on a hunt. This was the man that picked flowers, insisting that they were ingredients for Gaius. Arthur couldn't remember what it was like before Merlin became a constant in his life. The very thought of him in pain or dying made his entire chest constrict, and it was all because Merlin wanted to protect him. He felt like he didn't deserve him, but he swallowed his doubts.

He gestured for him to come closer. His manservant gave him a strange look, but did as he was told. Once he was standing right in front of him, Arthur took ahold of his hands which caused the boy to gasp softly in surprise; it wasn't normally the prince who initiated gentle touch. Arthur forced himself to start speaking before he could lose his nerve. "Merlin, I want to make it clear, because it seems that I haven't shown it, that I care about you... You are so much more than just a servant to me. I honestly... I think- You are my closest friend.... But you mean more to me than that..."

He trailed off, carefully watching for Merlin's reaction. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly agape again. There was a slight shininess to his eyes that weren't there before; there were tears in his eyes. He blinked and cleared his throat. "Are you... are you saying...?"

"You are thick sometimes," Arthur deflected, heat rising into his cheeks. "Do I need to spell it out for you, you imbecile?"

"I'm getting a few mixed messages here, Arthur," he replied. The prince let out a heavy sigh. He glanced down at their hands and back up to his eyes, giving him a meaningful look. Merlin let out a tiny gasp. His entire face went red all the way to the tips of his ears. "O-Oh..."

His voice was shaky with nerves and shock. He looked down at their hands, noting how gently Arthur was holding them. He was letting Merlin's hands rest in his own. If he wanted to, Merlin could pull away. He didn't, opting to change their hands so that he could lace their fingers. "I feel the same..."

The room was quiet except for their soft breathing. The tension had dissipated and left behind an air of calm. The fire had long since gone out and only candles provided light, casting everything in a soft glow. For the first time in a very long time, Arthur felt like he could relax. There was no one he trusted more than the man in front of him. His heart was full in his chest as he looked at their hands together. They stayed in a comfortable silence with small smiles on their faces. It felt as if the world had frozen outside of his chambers. It wasn't until Merlin yawned that they broke from their trance.

Arthur cleared his throat. "We really should retire for the night. This has been an exhausting evening," he said with a chuckle. Merlin laughed in agreement. His eyes still looked damp. With pink cheeks, Arthur raised Merlin's hands to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss there. "We can discuss this more in the morning."

"Of course," Merlin said. He was still in disbelief as the prince released his hands. "You don't need anything else?"

"Just the candles, but that's obvious," he replied as he climbed into the center of his bed and got comfortable under his blankets. He watched with fondness as Merlin extinguished each of the candles. Keeping his eyes open became a struggle as his manservant moved across the room. He faintly registered him picking up the tray of dishes. Another smile graced his face. "Thank you, Merlin."

The words held a hidden weight to them that they both seemed to understand. Merlin stood at the door and gave him one more smile. "My pleasure, goodnight Arthur."

With that, he slipped out of his chambers. He was likely headed to the kitchens before his room. Arthur hoped it wouldn't take him too long to get to bed. He didn't want him to lose sleep over his emotional crisis. The prince's thoughts wandered, picturing a small farm in the middle on nowhere. He knew immediately what it was, remembering what he'd told Guinevere when they were still together. A fond smile stayed on Arthur's face as sleep claimed him.