Work Text:
“Is this him?”
The king’s voice echoes across the throne room and Merlin raises his eyes to look at King Uther closely for the first time. The King wears the same golden crown and red cloak he’d worn on the balcony, while sentencing the young man to death, and he looks at Merlin with a little of the same disdain.
Imagine if Uther knew the truth. Right now, all he sees is the farmer’s son that the crown prince has escorted into the throne room.
The prince clears his throat, shaking Merlin out of his thoughts, and dips his head a fraction. The sunlight through the window catches his golden hair, settles on his cheekbones. He’s an unfairly attractive creature, a fact that Merlin is loath to admit. Maybe in another life, this might make it easier.
“Yes, sire,” he says and shoots Merlin a glance. For a moment, Merlin isn’t sure if it’s filled with confusion, contention, or something else. “I believe so.”
“Are you quite sure?” Uther presses, a dissatisfied frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“Unfortunately,” Arthur mutters and Merlin bites back on the words that are threatening to climb out of his throat. He’s not sure if his current predicament will spare him from the stocks.
The king’s frown only deepens.
“This is most…” and then seems to struggle for words. Merlin, if he didn’t have such a strong sense of self-preservation, would be able to supply the king with a few suggestions of his own. Unfortunate. Disastrous. Unforeseen. Unwanted.
But thankfully the main door opens to admit Gaius and Merlin has never been so pleased to see someone in his life.
“Sire?” Gaius asks hesitantly and his eyes flick anxiously to Merlin. Merlin just shakes his head a fraction and he sees the slight slump of the physician’s shoulders. He must have been expecting that he was being pulled into speak with the king about his ward’s imminent appointment with the pyre.
“I understand that this is your new ward, Gaius,” Uther says, gesturing briefly to Merlin.
“Indeed, sire. My great-niece sent him from her village to study to become a physician. He arrived this morning.” Gaius still looks tense and Merlin can’t blame him for that. Perhaps he was expecting a while longer before his nephew was pulled up in front of the king.
“I see,” Uther says, still staring blankly at Merlin. He’s not sure what the king sees: the scruffy dark hair, the too thin shoulders, the mud on his boots.
“Is there a problem, sire?” Gaius asks hesitantly, and Merlin can see his clasped hands behind his back, knuckles practically white.
“In a manner of speaking,” Uther says wearily, still slumped on the throne. The guards were all sent to wait outside when Merlin was dragged in here, banished by Arthur, to give them some privacy while he told his father the news. Merlin has to begrudgingly admire him for that - if the situation had been reversed Merlin would have immediately vowed never to tell anyone.
“Have you ever seen your nephew’s soulmark?” Uther asks and Gaius’ eyebrows promptly vanish up towards his snow-white hair.
“I have not,” Gaius says and there’s a flicker of suspicion as he looks at Merlin.
“It wasn’t my fault,” Merlin says immediately and Gaius’ mouth tightens. Right. Merlin should probably be quiet.
“It is no one’s fault,” Uther says, raising a hand. Arthur scowls and folds his arms across his chest.
“I’d very much like to meet whoever decides these things,” he gripes and Gaius looks between the two boys, reaching the inevitable and unfortunate conclusion.
“Do you mean to say that…? When on Earth did this happen?” Gaius asks, looking stunned, and Uther sighs.
In actual fact, it had only been half an hour ago. Merlin hadn’t thought anything of it, interrupting the knights’ teasing of a young servant. And the only worse thing than finding out that the chief prat was actually the crown prince was finding out that he was your soulmate.
“They’ve said each other's words, apparently,” Uther explains, still looking unhappy about the whole thing. As he should - no doubt he planned on some beautiful princess being Arthur’s intended. Or at least a sister of a knight or a lord’s daughter…not a farmer’s son from Ealdor.
“Are they sure?” Gaius asks, perhaps justifiably, and Merlin yanks his sleeve up in response. Uther winces at the proof, black as Merlin’s own hair, emblazoned on his skin. The single word that Arthur had barked at him - there are certainly more romantic first words to be said. Not that Arthur’s are any prettier.
“They went black,” Merlin says shortly, because he hadn’t believed it either until he’d seen his words had changed. “So yes, quite sure.” Gaius grasps Merlin’s forearm in cool fingers and carefully peers at his skin. Merlin is strangely grateful that he doesn’t brush the word with his hands, carefully avoiding it as he peers down.
“Fascinating,” Gaius murmurs. “And are the Prince’s the same?”
Arthur doesn’t move. Finally, Uther clears his throat and gestures at Arthur. Disgruntled, the prince strips off one glove and pulls up his sleeve and Merlin gets a chance to see his words - words he’s spoken, the first words he ever said to the person meant for him - printed clear as day on Arthur’s arm.
“Oh my,” Gaius says, no doubt at a loss for what else to say. Merlin pulls his sleeve back down, feeling strangely embarrassed. It’s uncommon for people to have their soulmarks on show and only Merlin’s mother has ever seen his before.
“What are we going to do about it?” Arthur interrupts, his neck as flushed as Merlin fears his own might be. He’s also hastily covered his mark again and Merlin feels oddly bereft at the words vanishing under the sleeve once more.
“As…unexpected as this situation is,” Uthur says and Merlin is pretty certain that he substituted another word with ‘unexpected’ only out of respect for Gaius. “It’s not as dire as I feared it might be. A physician is a well-respected trade and the boy is not unattractive. He’ll study under Gaius, although some supplement tutoring may be necessary. After all, he has no knowledge of Camelot’s rules or customs and if he’s to be involved at court, I can’t have him disgracing the Pendragon name.”
“Disgracing…?” Merlin starts and is stopped by a sharp jab to his ribs.
“He’ll move into one of the rooms in the east wing immediately. No offence meant, Gaius, but he cannot stay in your spare room. We’ll have to have it announced properly. I believe a ball is customary.”
“A ball? For what?” Arthur asks, voicing the very question on Merlin’s tongue. Uther turns his gaze down to his son, something a little like impatience on his face.
“To announce your betrothal, of course,” he says bluntly.
“You must be joking, father,” Arthur says, looking horrified. “I only just met him!” But Uther dismisses him with a wave of his hand and Arthur steps back, looking disgruntled.
“You knew this day would come, one way or another,” Uther says, calmly. “It will not be kept secret for very long so we must act quickly. I believe a few of our allied kingdoms will be most disappointed but they’ll understand. It’s rare to have an arranged marriage supersede a soulmate, after all.”
Merlin has had a strange ringing in his ears since Uther said the word ‘betrothed’ but he manages to open his mouth just long enough to ask a question that’s been bothering him.
“I thought you might not have been pleased about this, sire,” he says, despite Gaius’ furious look. “I mean…I am a commoner.”
“Perhaps,” Uther agrees, with a slight dip of his head. “I can’t deny I was hoping for…someone with a higher ranking for my son. But you are his soulmate and I will not deny him the relationship.”
“But, Father!” Arthur starts to argue before Uther cuts him off.
“Arthur,” he says, coolly, and for the first time there’s a glimmer of vulnerability on the king’s lined face. “Your mother was my soulmate and I regret that I didn’t have more time with her. You may think this foolish and hasty now but believe me, you will thank me eventually. There is plenty of time for you and Merlin to get to know each other.”
Arthur falls silent, struck dumb by the mention of his mother. Merlin watches him curiously - strange how the mention of this one woman takes all of the bluster away from both these men. But he thinks of how much he loves his own mother and maybe it’s not such an odd thing to happen after all.
“Thank you, sire,” Gaius says, because he seems to be the only one grateful for this development. Merlin’s stomach is churning and judging by Arthur’s face, he feels the same way.
But Merlin can’t be thankful. He doesn’t know what he expected to happen upon meeting his soulmate but it wasn’t this. His soulmate is a prat and a prince and, worst of all, son of a man who would burn him at the stake. Uther’s generosity may extend to his being a commoner and a man but Merlin sincerely doubts it would go any further should Uther discover that he is also a sorcerer. And living in the palace, in close quarters with the prince, leaves that looking more and more likely.
“I will send a servant to your quarters to collect Merlin’s belongings,” Uther says, finally rising from the throne. He’s an imposing figure and while he no longer bears the physique of someone capable of competing in a tournament, his bearing and sturdy shoulders remind Merlin that this is someone who took his throne by force. “And you must dine with us tonight. My ward, Lady Morgana, will be delighted to hear the news.”
Arthur promptly looks as though he’s choking on his tongue. Judging by what Merlin has heard about Lady Morgana, he suspects that she will be less delighted by this development and considerably more gleeful.
“Thank you, sire,” Merlin says, because it’s the only acceptable thing to say. “I’d be honoured.”
“You’ll have to settle into your new rooms first. We’ll find something suitable for you to wear,” Uther says, wrinkling his nose at Merlin’s boots. “I’m sure the royal tailor will have you looking like an official consort in no time.”
This time it’s not just Arthur that turns puce. Merlin’s ears flush at the implications.
“You will eventually have the title of Prince Consort,” Gaius murmurs under his breath, just to rub salt into the wound.
“When Arthur is king,” Uther agrees, having somehow caught the words. “We will have to discuss heirs…but there’s time for that. It can wait until after the wedding.”
It’s only Gaius’ hand at the small of his back that makes him bow low to the king. Merlin catches one last sight of the prince’s confused face before the doors close behind them.
“Not a word,” Gaius says in a low voice, pulling Merlin along by his wrist. The castle is quiet and Merlin only catches sight of a knight standing guard or the occasional maid carrying a basket of washing. But even so, if he says too much it will spread like the sweating sickness before Uther has had a chance to make a formal announcement. “Not here.”
“Heirs!” Merlin squeaks and Gaius tightens his grip. It doesn’t matter. Merlin is struck dumb until they arrive back at the physician quarters and the door is shut.
“How on Earth did you manage to be the soulmate of the one person who could have you burned at the stake?” Gaius demands hotly and Merlin drops into a chair, no longer having the strength to stand. He tugs up his sleeve to stare at the words once more but to his dismay, they’re still black. He’d half hoped that it was all a mistake. That maybe destiny was wrong.
“I am entirely the wrong person to answer that,” Merlin gripes, because his magic doesn’t quite extend to understanding or controlling the rare ripple of it across the universe that ties people together. “What am I going to do?”
“You can’t let anyone know,” Gaius says immediately. “Soulmate or no, Arthur is not yet king. He might not be able to protect you from Uther.”
Merlin slumps back, half-hating the words on his arm. Before the sharply worded sentence on his forearm had been the source of confusion, frustration and hope. It was such a brief, inconsequential thing for his soulmate to say - it could be anyone in any situation and more than once has Merlin whirled around upon hearing it said.
But this time there was no fluke. Barely seconds after their exchange, they’d both felt the burn on their arms, the words turning black as smoke, branding them to each other forever.
“No one mentioned the possibility of my soulmate having me hanged,” Merlin says miserably. He doesn’t even know if that’s truly possible - a soulmate by the very definition is your other half, the one meant for you. Merlin had always presumed that his soulmate would also have magic because what other choice was there?
“Then we will have to make sure that that won’t happen,” Gaius says firmly. “But, Merlin…you will have to be careful. People don’t notice servants. They will absolutely notice the prince’s future spouse.”
“Great,” Merlin says, staring at his shoes. He feels oddly crushed. He was certain that his world had been upended by coming here - leaving his mother and his home for a strange new place where he’s constantly at risk. But now he doesn’t even have the luxuries he thought he might have as a servant. The ability to hide, to go unnoticed, to live as he likes. There will be balls and suppers, grand events and tournaments where he will have to sit by Arthur’s side, under the scrutiny of the kingdom and everyone who visits.
Gaius pats him on the shoulder.
“You never know,” Gaius says and when Merlin looks up, his face is soft. “One day you may come to love him.”
Merlin thinks of the boy in the square, the snap the rope had made as the trapdoor opened. He thinks of Arthur, who appears to be a replica of his father and keen to prove it. But there’s glimmers underneath that bravado, ones that Merlin has seen when Arthur’s mother was mentioned, the vulnerability when he’d pulled up his sleeve, the look of panic at having his choices and future stripped away against his will. Underneath the facade of the cocky little prince there may actually be a good person.
“I think that might almost be worse,” Merlin says.