Date Published: July 11th, 2023
Word Count: 5,106
A/N: Saw this on tumblr and knew I had to write something for it because eye appreciation and The Poisoned Chalice? Yes please!

Sweat rolled down the sides of Arthur's face as he clung to the ledge. His hair stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck. His hands were no better off, damp within his leather gloves. Arthur blinked and shook his head to prevent the salty substance from burning his eyes, though he supposed it didn't matter all that much.

The cave around him was black, so dark it appeared flat. There was no way for him to navigate to safety, let alone find the flowers the life of his manservant was resting on. Arthur's muscles were protesting against holding on for so long; the extra weight of his armor was not helping either.

In the darkness, the prince's panting sounded deafening, but his hasty breaths were quickly accompanied by the skin crawling sound of far too many legs skittering up the rock walls.

Arthur looked around the gloom frantically to no avail. He could barely make out the rough surface mere inches from his nose. His heart rammed against his chest as panic started to seize his body; his survival instinct was all that kept him from letting go, but there was nothing he could do.

Dread twisted in the prince's stomach as his thoughts drifted. He wondered if his father would cry when he learned of his fate, or if he would scowl and say, "I told you so" as he stood before his funeral pyre. Was Morgana going to blame herself for pushing him to go? And Merlin, poor Merlin, undoubtedly still suffering from the poison meant for him; without the antidote, he was going to die. Arthur's throat constricted as he remembered Gaius' words. He wished Merlin's passing would at the very least be peaceful, but his manservant was to die a slow and painful death at the hands of the Mortaeus flower.

He hissed as a cramp shot through his shoulder. The sounds of the spiders were growing closer, and his grip was getting looser; at least the fall would kill him before the spiders could eat him alive. Arthur closed his eyes as acceptance washed over him.

The darkness behind his eyelids was interrupted by a soft light. As the prince's eyes fluttered open, he was greeted by a glowing orb. A chill shot down his spine. More magic was the last thing he needed, and he growled under his breath. After all he'd been through, Arthur refused to cower as he faced his demise.

"Come on, then! What are you waiting for?!" he demanded. "Finish me off!"

He expected the orb to do something, like blast him with fire or turn him to dust, but it simply hovered in the air beside him. Arthur glared at it; magic was deceptive and he didn't trust it. To his surprise however, the light simply floated above his head, illuminating the ledge he was hanging from. He could see the wall and the foothold. If he was going to try and make it out of this, he needed to make use of the visibility the magic was providing.

Arthur took a couple deep frustrated breaths before pulling himself up with a yell. His muscles screamed in protest, but he managed to get his feet onto the platform. He retrieved his abandoned sword, and he returned it to his sheath.

The orb continued to hover. The conflicted feeling in the prince's stomach caused him to take a moment to stare at the mysterious light.

He had been trapped and left to die by a sorceress mere minutes prior. It was clear to Arthur that whoever the woman was, she had reason to want him dead; just like every other sorcerer he'd ever met. They all despised him, and he couldn't fault them for it. He was the son of a king who had ruthlessly hunted them down for nearly two decades.

However, the light that glowed before him had to be from a sorcerer. His brows furrowed together as he scrutinized it. What kind of magic user would try to save him? Arthur was alone in the awful cave, so how had the orb even appeared? How did it know what to do? Was it a trap?

These were his thoughts as he gazed at the light. Its swirling blue energy was mesmerizing and beautiful. There was something familiar about it, but he struggled to place it. The orb was a flowing mixture of shades of blue. The color struck something in his chest as he searched his memory.

Blue; what did he know that was blue?

As the prince continued to think, the light began to rise toward the surface. It was revealing the wall and its texture, leading the way to safety. Arthur was about to start climbing, but he hesitated. His eyes found their way to where the Mortaeus flowers were rooted. Without one of them, Merlin was going to die; he couldn't leave empty handed.

Leave them, Arthur.

The thought was not his own. It was though a faint voice was speaking directly within his head. Frustration and righteous anger flowed through him. Leave? Without the antidote? After all he has done to get it, he was supposed to abandon his mission and condemn Merlin to a slow and painful death from the poison that was meant for him?

Stupid Merlin.... Stupid Merlin who risked his life for him. Stupid Merlin who seemed to have no self preservation instincts, or at least ignored them in order to protect Arthur. Stupid Merlin and his sharp wit that made him laugh. Stupid Merlin with his bright smile-

Go. Save yourself. Follow the light.

The nagging sensation of familiarity continued to itch as the voice spoke again. Whoever was speaking to him was someone he knew. He could feel that he knew. They sounded tired, but commanding. There was an edge of desperation in their tone.

The blue orb pulsed with light as he locked his gaze onto it again. Blue... A stone dropped in his stomach as his panting was interrupted by a gasp. Stupid Merlin with his sparkling blue eyes; blue, like their color when they locked with his as he raised the deadly goblet in a toast, before downing the tainted wine.

The prince's eyes widened. The familiarity of the magic's energy clicked as the color of the orb finally matched in his memory. He knew whose soft voice was urging him to leave. He knew why the magic was aiding him.

The knowledge only made him more determined to retrieve the antidote. Jaw clenching, he turned and began climbing toward the flowers. Merlin needed him to succeed, so he would; he refused to fail with his life on the line. Arthur stretched his arm out. His fingertips brushed the strands of grass sticking out of the rocks; it was just out of reach. His heart pounded almost painfully against his chest. He grunted, shifting himself closer as sweat dripped down his nose.

Ignoring the sounds of spiders and the deep fall his peripheral vision was warning him of, he prince strained his arm again. This time he grabbed the flower, gasping as it came free. He tucked it into the small pouch at his waist with small smile, however the spiders below him dampened his triumph. He turned to keep climbing, but his grip came loose. Arthur cussed; he gripped his glove with his teeth, yanking it free, with the second one quickly following suit. His stomach turned as he watched them fall into the abyss as hundreds of  glowing eyes continued their ascent.

With new vigor, Arthur gripped the wall and pulled himself up. He pushed himself to move despite his muscles' complaints.

Faster. Go faster. Follow the light!

Arthur panted as he looked up at the orb. He growled with effort as he did his best to climb faster. The warning was not unwarranted; the spiders skittering beneath him were growing closer. Though it allowed for a better grip, the palms of Arthur's hands stung from the rough wall of rock.

Move! Climb!

A brief flash of amusement and annoyance passed over him, though the urgency and emphasis on the instructions kept the prince from getting truly frustrated with the pointless advise. What the hell do you think I'm doing, idiot? Arthur thought. He directed it at Merlin though he had no idea if he had a way of hearing him.

After what felt like hours, Arthur finally reached the top. He hauled himself onto the surface and drew his sword, preparing for any spiders to follow him. It seemed that they didn't want to leave the cave. He sighed with relief, and looked for the orb that guided him. It floated peacefully before him.

He wanted to believe that it was a good sign, that it meant Merlin was at least still alive. However seconds after having such hopes, it flickered out and disappeared. The familiar energy faded with it. Arthur's heart twisted.

There was no time for him to waste. He raced to his horse, relieved to find her still where she had been tied off. He pulled the reigns out of the knot and leaped onto her back.

The ride back to the Camelot was a blur of trees until he reached the gates, only to be met with guards with their weapons drawn. He forced his horse to a stop as he glared angrily at them. He was their prince. They should not even be stopping him, let alone drawing weapons. How dare they waste what precious time he had to get the antidote to Merlin?

"What are you doing? Let me pass!"

"I'm sorry, Sire. You're under arrest, by order of the King."

~~~

He had been taken to the dungeons without hesitation by the guards. His quarrel with his father had left him with a mixture of fury and dread in his stomach as he desperately reached for the squashed flower on the floor outside his cell. Arthur remembered the way hope flared in his chest when he saw Guinevere enter his cell, immediately calculating the best way to pass her the flower without the guard knowing. He took a risk hiding it in the food with only a cryptic comment, but the way the serving girl smiled told him she understood.

The only remaining issue had then been the tortuous waiting. It was a long and sleepless night. He had had no way of knowing if Guinevere had gotten the flower to Merlin in time, and it made him feel sick to his stomach the longer he sat against the stone bricks.

Of course, there was also the revelation that his manservant possessed magic. Arthur had picked stray threads on his shirt as he had thought about it.

The prince had not been able to deny that he was wary of magic, and that the knowledge that Merlin was using it alarmed him; however he had been able to push the instinctual fears aside to focus on reality. That, was the fact that Merlin had willingly drunk from a poisoned chalice to stop Arthur from drinking it, and had then proceeded to save him when he was abandoned in a cave to die. There had been no doubt that his manservant was loyal to him, magic or no.

When Arthur had looked back on the magic Merlin had sent, he had noted that all he had done was create a light. A simple orb of light to provide him with vision. The prince had never seen magic used in such a mundane and helpful way. His personal experiences with magic had been a sleeping spell resulting in an attempted murder, an enchanted shield with live, venomous snakes, and a monster that had tainted their water to induce a lethal illness upon consumption.

He had begun to wonder what life would be like with magic at their disposal. Nothing to make a torch with? Create an orb of light. Bedridden with an illness and your food is over on the table? Levitate the tray to your lap. Who knew how many simple, domestic spells and enchantments existed that Arthur had never witnessed or even thought about before? Self-folding laundry, self-polishing armor, enchanted quills that wrote down what you said; the possibilities were endless. He wondered if Merlin was using his magic in those ways, or if he was sensible enough to keep his abilities strictly reserved for emergencies.

That had been another point of curiosity as well as dread. Was Merlin careful? Arthur hadn't noticed, but he hadn't exactly been paying much attention. Why would he suspect his manservant to be practicing magic, a force he associated with darkness and malice, when the man wept over the rabbits the prince killed on their hunts? It had never even occurred to him to look for it, despite the fact that Merlin had confessed to magic not long ago.

Guinevere's life had been in danger because of magic that Merlin had used to save her father from the afanc's disease. He had confessed in an attempt to save her, without hesitation though he knew the penalty was death. The memory had replayed in Arthur's mind and tied a knot in his stomach. Merlin was perfectly willing to throw his own life away to save a friend; he had supposed he should have known that already given the way he had downed the poisoned wine earlier that evening.

His thoughts had been his only company, but with the way his head had started to pound, he had wished they'd leave him in his solitude.

The sun had just started to peak through the barred window by the time he was let out.  The aches and soreness he felt from staying in the cold, hard cell were instantly forgotten when a guard finally showed up with the key to the door. All he wanted to do was go check on his manservant's condition, but he had been summoned by the king.

Upon reaching the top of the wall, the prince could see the blue flags of Mercia's people leaving Camelot. If Bayard had been released, surely that meant Gaius had managed to save Merlin and inform the king of the sorceress truly behind the plot?

His thoughts raced as he stood beside the king. Arthur tried to be cordial, suppressing his feelings of anger that still lingered; his father could have killed Merlin with his stubbornness to admit his son had done the right thing.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time he found himself standing outside the physician's chambers.

Arthur hesitated in front of the door, hands frozen at his sides instead of reaching for the door handle. Part of him didn't want to go in, knowing that he would have to say something about his manservant's treasonous actions, but the overwhelming sense of concern and admiration he held for him was stronger. He couldn't let himself walk away.

Clearing his throat, he took ahold of the door handle while knocking with his free hand. He pushed it open carefully as he peered around it into the room.

Merlin was sitting at a table with glass of water and a blanket around his shoulders. Gaius was nowhere to be seen, which relieved the prince a bit. While he had no doubt that the physician likely knew of Merlin's abilities, he preferred to discuss the subject alone.

His knock had apparently been too soft for his manservant to hear, as he didn't turn around to acknowledge him. Arthur inhaled and smirked just a tiny bit as he entered the room.

"Still alive then?"

Merlin turned, looking a bit startled and surprised to see him, but he quickly recovered with a small chuckle. "Oh, yeah, just about," he said. Arthur strolled over and casually put his hand on the back of his chair. His manservant looked a bit bashful as he fidgeted. "I understand I have you to thank for that."

The prince's face grew warm as he swallowed his nerves. He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant as he rounded the table and sat across from Merlin. If he was surprised to see Arthur entering the room, he was downright confused to see him take a seat. He tried to think of the best way to initiate the conversation he was here to have, but his mind was blank as his eyes met his manservant's.

"I understand I have you to thank," he began slowly, "for more than one rescue, I believe..."

He gave him a meaningful look, hoping that he would understand what he was referring to. Merlin's nose scrunched up as he scowled; it was against Arthur's conscious will that he noted it was unfairly adorable. "I'm not- I'm not following."

"Well, I owe you a thank you for stopping me from drinking that wine," Arthur said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. A surge of frustration and protectiveness rose up as he recalled it. "Although, I would prefer that you never did that again. You should have let me handle it. You nearly got yourself killed."

"I- Well- That's-" Merlin sputtered. His face flushed with color, but it was impossible to tell what emotion was the main cause. He crossed his arms defiantly over his chest and lifted his chin. "If I hadn't, you would've died. I'm a servant; if I die, I'm replaceable. You're the Crown Prince of Camelot. The kingdom needs you."

Arthur frowned angrily as he leaned forward with his hands on the table. Merlin hadn't been a part of his life for very long, but his presence had already become a constant. No one would be able to fill the void that would form in his absence. "Do not refer to yourself as replaceable."

"It's true-"

"Shut up, Merlin, you are not replaceable, and we both know it," he pressed.

His manservant's eyes widened, and for the first time since Arthur had met him, he looked frightened. This boy had stared him down when he swung a mace at his head. He did not flinch as he drank poison. In this moment however, he looked scared. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The prince inhaled deeply and leaned back in his chair, realizing he was coming across too aggressive. The entire point of this was to convince Merlin of his safety. He was not doing a good job so far, and he fully blamed his father's lack of emotional availability for it. Anger and frustration were always the easiest for him to express healthily. They often filled in the gaps in his communication issues, which only made things harder.

Arthur raised his gaze back to Merlin, purposefully softening his expression the best he could without knowing how. Perhaps it was the lingering sickness, but the boy in front of him was pale.

"I apologize, I am not- I'm trying to say that-" he struggled, gesturing with his hands uselessly as his cheeks filled with warmth. It was doing nothing to make the nervous expression on Merlin's face fade. Arthur sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and forced himself to rip the bandage off. "I know about your magic."

The air between them shifted as Arthur opened his eyes reluctantly. Merlin's face had changed from one of confusion to one of fear, and strangely, understanding. His mouth dropped open slightly, but no sound came out. It seemed like he wanted to say something but was too scared to speak.

Arthur couldn't say that he wasn't a tiny bit hurt by his response, but it was justified. They had only knew each other for about two months, and Uther had made his standing on magic incredibly clear. His father had tried to purge sorcerers from the world through a mass genocide; Arthur had been an infant when the worst of it had occurred, but he had learned later that mercy was not extended to anyone. Uther considered magic a force of pure evil. Anyone who came in contact or used it was considered a threat or abomination. What reason did Merlin have to think that Arthur may feel differently?

None; that was why he was here.

The silence weighed heavily over them as his manservant gazed to his cup of water, staring into the glass as if its contents were far more interesting than they were. Arthur was tempted to speak, but willed himself to be patient.

Merlin was surprisingly still for a change, but the way his leg was bouncing rapidly gave away the nervousness he was trying to conceal. He inhaled deeply.

"What are you going to do with me?" he asked. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet, passive, and he did not look up from his cup, keeping his head tilted in a submissive way that did not suit him; it unnerved Arthur to see him behaving like a proper servant.

He wanted him to laugh and argue with him in the way only he had been brave enough to when speaking to the prince. Merlin was confident and comfortable in his presence, treating Arthur like a normal human being, something he hadn't been aware he was craving. The mere thought of losing him, whether through exile or execution, made his stomach twist.

The surge of panic the thoughts brought on reminded him of the other things Merlin had been doing to change his world for the better. He could not remember the last time he truly felt a connection with someone else. Every emotion he experienced was amplified around him, for better and worse. The bubbly feeling of joy when they were bantering on horseback on a hunt made him feel like a child. The crushing weight of worry upon seeing him unwell caused his chest to constrict in a way that was almost painful.

Then there were the moments where Merlin would smile at him, blue eyes sparkling under the sunlight, and despite being a prince with anything he could desire, he felt like he had been blessed by the Triple Goddess herself.

Arthur's lips quirked upwards into an affectionate smile; he did not like wearing his heart on his sleeve, but if there was ever a moment when Merlin needed to know how much he cared, it was now.

He reached across the table to take ahold of his manservant's wrists. His whole body flinched in surprise as he looked up from the water. The surprise morphed into confusion upon seeing the smile on the prince's face.

"I'm going to protect you, you idiot," Arthur said. "As if I would bother getting a new manservant, that's far too much trouble."

Merlin's mouth fell open, and Arthur was tempted to laugh, but he kept this expression a comforting smile. The joke was meant to ease any tension and clear any doubts Merlin had about the prince's intentions, and it worked. He coughed out a startled laugh as a relieved grin spread across his face. He freed one of his hands to wipe his eyes, which were slightly damp.

"How did you... find out, I guess?" Merlin asked, face settling into an uncertain smile.

"While I was getting the Mortaeus flower, a sorceress lured me into a trap, but I suspect you already know that," he said. The other boy nodded shyly. Arthur nodded too as he continued. "And it was dark, too dark for me to see or move, but then, a light appeared."

His manservant cupped his hands in front of him and whispered a few words of the Old Religion. The very same orb that had saved him in the cave formed, resting in his palms before floating into the air above them.

Arthur felt his heart expand with warmth as he looked at him. "I felt something," he explained, gesturing to the light. "Something about the magic felt familiar. There's an energy that comes from it, and it reminded me of something I couldn't place, but the longer I looked at it, the more it started to come to me."

"The orb, it's the same color as your eyes," the prince admitted, feeling his face grow warm. He knew his cheeks were likely red, but it brought him some comfort to see that Merlin looked the same. He cleared his throat and continued. "Then I started hearing your voice, so..."

His voice trailed off as he fidgeted with his hands. "I- Actually, I think I heard you too," Merlin said. He looked up in surprise, eyebrows furrowing together. His manservant wore a similar expression, but his lips were quirked up into a tiny smile. "You called me an idiot cause I was telling you to climb. I thought I imagined it, but I guess I didn't."

"To be fair, you are an idiot," Arthur said, grinning.

"This idiot saved your life, four times now!" he replied as he held up his fingers. "I slowed down time to save you from that dagger the night I got this job. I made the snakes on Valiant's shield come to life in front of the crowd. I just drank poison for you, AND I sent you a guiding light while being poisoned."

Arthur felt his chest constrict with the knowledge of his manservant's actions. He wondered what about him made Merlin deem him worthy of his protection. The day they had met it was clear that he thought of him as nothing more than an arrogant royal, one that he wanted to physically fight because of how much he pissed him off. Arthur hadn't known him long, but Merlin did not seem like the type to pick fights on a whim; there was a reason he had fought with him in the marketplace.

Now, barely a full two months later, he was willing to die for him. Despite magic being a crime punishable by death, he used his abilities to save his life, knowing it could cost him his own if he was caught. Arthur didn't understand what had changed in the short amount of time he'd been working for him.

What had Arthur done to make Merlin reconsider his opinion?

A frown settled on his features as a swirling sensation occurred in his stomach. Merlin noticed the change in the mood immediately, returning his hands to the table slowly as he tilted his head. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked nervously.

"No, no, of course not," Arthur said, shaking his head. "I just don't understand why you would do all of that for me... I thought you didn't even like me. Why would you risk your life like that?"

Merlin's eyes grew wide, and he looked up at where the orb was hovering between them. His voice was solemn as he answered. "I don't know, really... When I first got to Camelot, I was told that we share a destiny, that we are two halves of a whole, two sides of the same coin," he said wistfully. "I thought it was rubbish, but when you were in danger that night, it was like my entire being acted on instinct. I couldn't let you die, I just couldn't."

His eyes lowered to meet the prince's. A jolt of something he couldn't describe went down his spine. "I didn't know what to think at first, about serving you and protecting you," he continued. His thoughtful expression transformed into a smile that made Arthur's heart beat faster. "But I saw through your spoiled prince façade pretty fast. You're a prat, but an honorable man in the ways that matter most. You believed me about the snakes on Valiant's shield, even though that didn't go as according to plan, you believed me. You helped me save Gwen from the pyre when I got her into that mess with the afanc's illness."

Merlin paused, looking down at the table. He seemed uncertain, but decided to commit to whatever he was thinking. He reached forward and took ahold of Arthur's hands. A tiny gasp escaped his lips as his manservant smiled at him. "You saved my life. You could have been killed, but you went anyway. I know you were just returning the favor, but not many others of your station would have done that for someone like me."

Arthur's heartbeat was pounding. He couldn't speak because of how breathless he was. A shared destiny. Two halves of a whole. Two sides of the same coin. Perhaps Merlin was a blessing from the Triple Goddess.

His manservant lifted his hands in his own, folding them tightly. Arthur's skin tingled as he brought their hands to his face. Closing his eyes, Merlin placed a light kiss to his knuckles, and then pressed his forehead against them. His voice had an air of reverence in it as he spoke. "I'm happy to be your servant."

"I- Just-" Arthur struggled, face flushing completely red. He had never felt like this before. Merlin did not treat him like royalty often, but in that moment, he felt like he was truly worthy of his princedom. He felt as though he had been laying in the sun with how warm his body felt. He managed a laugh that brought Merlin's eyes back to his. "Do you have any idea what you are doing to me? Are you trying to make me fall in love with you or something? Because it's working."

Quiet settled as the prince stiffened. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. His tongue suddenly felt to big for his mouth, and the warmth he was feeling dissipated, leaving behind a nervous chill. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean- That was not appropriate for me to- I shouldn't assume-"

"Arthur," Merlin said, effectively silencing him. He snapped his jaw shut and looked attentively into his eyes. He felt like he could drown in the blue irises, their color more vibrant than the ocean and the sky. He was so entranced that he didn't notice Merlin leaning forward until his breath ghosted over his lips. His heart jumped, racing as though he was riding a horse or fighting an enemy. His manservant grinned as he bumped their noses together. "Shut up."

Arthur opened his mouth to argue only for Merlin to cover it with his own. He melted under the feeling of the other boy's lips against his. He freed his hands from Merlin's grip in order to grasp the sides of his face and pull him closer.

It was no longer a doubt in his mind. He sent a silent thank you to the Triple Goddess as he continued to kiss his manservant.