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The Round Table was chaos.
Not the chaos of battle, nor the chaos of fire or invasion. It was the bureaucratic chaos of a kingdom that seemed to have decided to collapse all at once, and Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, Unifier of Albion, was at the center of it all, his head resting on the table with the expression of someone who had long since given up on living.
Leon stood with a scroll in his hands and a worried face. "Sire, those hares from last week have returned and consumed almost all the wheat stock in the southern granary. We've lost nearly half of the autumn harvest."
Arthur didn't lift his head. "Hm."
Gwaine, reclining in a chair with his feet on the table — a gesture Arthur would normally have reprimanded, but today he had no energy for it — added: "And what about the sorceress who enchanted the brewery owner? He's still stuck in the form of a toad, sire. The kingdom's best ale is unavailable, and Merlin still hasn't had time to go sort that out."
"Tragedy," Arthur murmured, his voice muffled against the wood of the table.
Elyan joined the conversation, report in hand. "And what about the ore that was supposed to arrive from Wales? A management error caused it to be diverted to the neighboring kingdom. We're out of stock for the next two weeks."
"Excellent."
Percival, leaning back in his chair with arms crossed, added in his calm but worried voice: "And the kingdom's school is facing various socialization issues. Some parents refuse to let their children study alongside children with magic. They say it's too dangerous."
"Wonderful."
Gwen, seated to Arthur's right, tried to remain calm, but her eyes betrayed her concern. "And Uther's old allies are organizing protests. They believe magic is still a threat, even after everything we've done to unify Albion."
Arthur finally lifted his head. His eyes were red, dark circles beneath them, his expression that of someone who had already faced too many battles and was now facing a war that seemed endless.
"Does anyone else have wonderful news to share?" he asked, his voice tired. "Because I'm loving hearing how everything is crumbling around me."
The silence that followed was brief, but significant.
Leon stepped forward. "Sire, what do you think we should do about the pests?"
Arthur blinked slowly, as if the question had come from another planet.
"Oh, I don't know."
The knights exchanged glances.
Gwaine leaned forward. "But sire, have you thought about how we're going to handle the sorceress situation?"
"I don't know."
Percival, usually the most patient, couldn't contain his concern. "But what are we going to do, sire? The situation is getting worse."
Arthur exploded.
"I DON'T KNOW!"
The shout echoed through the hall, making the torches tremble. The knights stepped back in unison.
"I don't know, alright? I don't have magical answers for every problem! I don't know how to deal with pests, I don't know how to deal with jealous sorceresses, I don't know how to deal with lost ore or worried parents or protests! All I know is that I know nothing, okay?!"
He stood up so quickly the chair nearly tipped backward, and began pacing back and forth, gesticulating frantically.
"Honestly, some days I feel physical, mental, spiritual, physiological, existential, anthropological, anthropophagic, anarchic, socioeconomic, psychoanalytic exhaustion!"
Everyone fell silent, looking at the king with a mixture of shock and concern. Gwen opened her mouth to say something, but Arthur didn't give her time.
"The only thing I ask of you is to spare me stress!" he continued, his voice growing louder. "I'm already full of demands to deal with thanks to my body's changes and so much to do for the baby that I don't even know where to start!"
Gwen stood, reaching out in a reassuring gesture. "Oh, my king..."
Arthur didn't hear her. He was in the middle of a breakdown, and there was no stopping him now.
"I'm in the vibe of 'spare me' because I'm running out fast!" he shouted, gesturing so wildly he nearly knocked a goblet off the table. "Whatever I can avoid causing me more stress, I'm avoiding! It's no wonder Merlin is far from me now — he's being stressful, and now all of you are too!"
Elyan, who was closest to the door, took a hesitant step forward.
"Sire, would you like us to call Merlin?"
Arthur stopped mid-speech, his eyes widening as if he'd just heard the worst possible insult.
"No! I already said I'm angry with him and I don't want to see him even if he were painted in gold!"
Gwaine tried to intervene. "But sire, maybe he could help with—"
"I'm angry even at speaking, at fulfilling, at having opinions!" Arthur interrupted, his voice now more trembling than furious. "I'm honestly thinking of starting to pray to the gods to bring me back as an amoeba in my next life!"
Leon, the only one still maintaining composure, quietly turned toward the door.
"I'll call Merlin."
Arthur banged his head dramatically on the table, with a groan that seemed to come from the depths of his soul.
"I don't know how women manage to live like this — I wish I didn't exist!"
The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of Leon's footsteps walking away.
Minutes later, Leon returned with Merlin behind him.
The sorcerer entered the hall with slow steps, his eyes immediately finding the figure hunched over the table. Arthur had his head buried in his arms, shoulders tense, the posture of someone who had given up fighting the world.
Merlin felt something tighten in his chest. He knew it had been his fault — the silly joke about Arthur laying an egg had been an attempt to ease the tension, but Arthur wasn't in the mood to hear that. Not at that moment, with the pains and nausea and all the changes his body was going through.
"My king," he called, his voice soft.
Arthur slowly lifted his face. His gaze met Merlin's, and for a moment, there was only silence between them. Then, the king made a pout — a pout so childish and so genuine that Merlin felt an irresistible urge to both laugh and embrace him.
"I already said I don't want to see you this afternoon," Arthur said, his voice sulky. "Come back later."
Merlin rolled his eyes. "Arthur..."
"No. I'm not going to listen to your apologies. You were an idiot, and I'm angry with you."
"I know I was an idiot."
"Then why are you here?"
"Because you're being so grumpy you're scaring everyone."
Arthur opened his mouth to respond, but the words died in his throat. Because Merlin was right. He needed Merlin to feel calmer. Even angry, even irritated, even furious — he needed Merlin.
"You're insufferable," Arthur murmured, his voice lower.
"I know."
"You make stupid jokes and I hate you for getting me pregnant."
"I know." He repeated, this time holding back a laugh, knowing Arthur was very happy with the idea of being pregnant with their children, but his king hated going through the worst stages of pregnancy.
"You're laughing. You don't even regret putting me through this." Now the king was whining, his emotions oscillating between wanting to strangle Merlin and running into his arms to be hugged and loved.
"I regret being something that surprised us both. You know I would never do that against your will, my king." Merlin approached and touched his beloved's hair. "But yes, I don't regret you being pregnant, because you're becoming more beautiful and perfect every day, and soon you'll give life to four beautiful heirs."
Arthur stared at him for a long moment. Merlin held his gaze, not backing down, but also not provoking further.
And then, very slowly, Arthur's shoulders relaxed.
"Merlin."
"Yes, my king?"
"Shut up." Merlin smiled, used to his beloved's brusque manner. "I'm tired."
Merlin stepped forward. "I know."
"I'm so tired I can't think. I can't make decisions. I can't handle anything else."
"I know."
"And your stupid submission is making me even more tired."
"I know." Merlin laughed. They had also argued about Merlin's apparent submission, about how he had suddenly become a "good servant," and how it irritated Arthur. But Merlin couldn't help it — he was even more in love with his king now that he carried their children. Merlin simply loved doing everything his beloved wanted, even if sometimes he had to stop Arthur from endangering himself, like the time the king tried to eat a golden fork.
"And I'm sorry for that. But now, you're going to do one thing for me."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"You're going to sleep."
"Merlin—"
"No." Merlin raised his hand, cutting off any protest. "You're exhausted. You're pregnant, going through something no other man has ever gone through, and you're trying to organize an entire kingdom on your own. You can't do it. No one could."
Arthur opened his mouth to argue, always wanting to have the last word, but Merlin wasn't willing to give in on this.
"Gwen and I are going to solve the meeting's problems. We'll deal with the pests, the sorceress, the lost ore, the school, and the protests. We'll do it together, as we always have. And you're going to sleep."
Arthur looked at Gwen, seeking support from his queen, but all he received was an apologetic smile. He looked at the knights, who were watching the scene with relieved expressions. He looked at Merlin, whose eyes were fixed on his and seemed authoritative, completely different from the soft man he'd been for the past three months.
"Do you promise you won't kill anyone while I'm asleep?" Arthur asked, his voice still sulky.
Merlin smiled — that smile Arthur loved so much.
"I promise I'll try."
"Not good enough."
"It's all I can offer, my king."
Arthur stared at him for a long moment. Then, very slowly, a smile formed on his lips.
"Okay. I'll lie down."
Arthur didn't resist any longer. He stood, swaying slightly, and Merlin was there to catch him, his arms enveloping the king with a firmness that was at once strong and tender.
"Come on," Merlin said, his voice lower. "I'll take you to bed."
"I can walk on my own, Merlin, don't be ridiculous."
"I'm taking you anyway."
Arthur didn't argue. He let himself be guided, his feet dragging across the floor as Merlin led him out of the hall.
When the door closed behind them, Gwen turned to the knights with a smile that was at once relieved and amused.
"Well," she said, her voice firm. "Let's solve these problems."
Elyan was the first to move. "The pests — I can handle that. There's a druid on the northern border who can help us."
Gwaine stood, stretching his arms. "And I can convince the sorceress to undo the spell. I'm great with women."
Leon nodded. "And the school issues... I think I can talk to the parents. They know me, they trust me."
Percival was already at the door. "I'll handle the ore situation. I know where it ended up — I can send some men to the neighboring kingdom and find out what went wrong."
The queen looked at each of them, her eyes shining with pride.
"Then let's go. We have a kingdom to organize and a king to keep calm."
The knights dispersed, each with their mission.
In the royal chamber, Merlin helped Arthur lie down. The king was exhausted, his eyes already closing before his head even touched the pillow.
"Merlin," he murmured, his voice dragging.
"Hmm?"
"Are you going to stay?"
Merlin sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers finding Arthur's golden hair.
"I have things to handle, my king, but I promise to take care of everything as quickly as possible and come right back to you."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Arthur closed his eyes. His breathing became slow, deep, as sleep finally overtook him.
Merlin stayed there, sitting on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, watching his king sleep. The exhaustion he had felt during the meeting was still there, but now it felt lighter, more bearable.
The royal chamber was bathed in tones of orange and pink, the last rays of sun spreading through the windows like a sheet of golden light. The air still carried the heat of the afternoon, but now there was a tranquility in it — the tranquility of a day that had finally come to an end, of worries that had been set aside, even if for a few hours.
Arthur sat on the bed, his back propped against the pillows Merlin had carefully arranged. His eyes were clearer now, the exhaustion still present but no longer overwhelming. Sleep had done its work, and the king's mind, once clouded with fatigue, was now sharper, more present.
Merlin sat beside him, so close their shoulders touched. The sorcerer's hand rested on Arthur's thigh, a light but present touch — a silent anchor.
"How long did I sleep?" Arthur asked, his voice still rough with sleep.
"A few hours," Merlin replied, with a smile that lit up his tired face.
Arthur frowned, looking at the window where the sun was already setting. "That long?"
"You needed it."
Arthur didn't argue. Instead, he turned slowly to face Merlin, his eyes tracing the sorcerer's face with an attention bordering on devotion.
"And the meeting's problems?" he asked, his voice lower.
"Gwen and the boys handled everything." Merlin squeezed his hand on Arthur's thigh, a reassuring gesture. "Elyan is already talking to the druids about the pests. Gwaine went after the sorceress. Leon went to talk to the parents at the school, and Percival went after the ore." Merlin paused, a smile playing on his lips. "And Gwen is holding down the protests. She's an amazing queen."
Arthur felt guilt tighten in his chest. "They did all that alone? Do you think they're upset that I left all the work on them?"
Merlin rolled his eyes.
"Of course not, don't be ridiculous, Arthur. You're their king, and they love you! They would do anything for you, just as they know you would for them."
Arthur looked away, but the small smile that formed on his lips betrayed his emotion.
"Did you come back a long time ago?" he asked, changing the subject, his voice softer now.
"Just an hour ago." Merlin shrugged, as if it were nothing. "I went to help Leon with the idiots at the school, and after we finished, Gwen came to tell me all the problems were solved, and I came back to be with you."
Arthur didn't respond immediately. Instead, he reached out and touched Merlin's face, his fingers tracing the curve of his jaw with a tenderness that seemed to contain all the love in the world.
"I love you," he said, his voice simple, direct — without artifice, without defenses.
Merlin felt the warmth spread across his face. If there was one thing Merlin loved most about this pregnancy, it was the fact that Arthur had become even more open in the way he expressed love.
"I love you too."
"Come here," Arthur said, pulling Merlin by the hand.
Merlin let himself fall beside him on the bed, their bodies meeting with the ease of those who had shared many nights together. The mattress sank under their combined weight, and Arthur turned to face Merlin, his eyes meeting the blue eyes he loved so much.
"What do you think," Arthur began, his voice calmer now, "about the knights being the godparents of our children?"
Merlin raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question. But a slow smile formed on his lips.
"I think we're going to have some ugly fights," he replied, a tone of amusement in his voice. "They're all going to fight for the honor of being the favorite uncle."
Arthur rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "I still can't believe it's going to be four babies, but if they are..." He paused, thinking. "Who would you choose as godfather and godmother for each of them?"
Merlin pretended to consider the question seriously, but his eyes sparkled with a mischievous light.
"Easy," he said, as if he'd thought about it many times before. "For our firstborn, my mother and Gaius."
Arthur snorted, clearly expecting that answer. "Obviously."
"For the second baby, Gwen and Leon."
Arthur nodded, the choice making sense.
"For the third, I suggest Gwaine and Percival."
The king raised an eyebrow, a doubtful expression on his face. "I thought the godmother needed to be a woman."
Merlin scoffed, with a mischievous smile. "I thought the mother needed to be a woman, but you're a man."
"Okay, fair." Arthur rolled his eyes, but the smile on his lips was unmistakable. "And the last one?"
"Elyan and Mithian, of course."
Arthur frowned, confused. "Why Elyan and Mithian specifically?"
Merlin leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Don't tell Gwen yet, but I'm pretty sure Sir Elyan has been exchanging letters with Lady Mithian."
Arthur's eyes widened, the fatigue momentarily forgotten. "What? Since when?"
"Since the last tournament, I think. He's been very distracted lately, and I saw a letter with Nemeth's seal hidden among his scrolls."
Arthur tried to hide his smile, but failed miserably. "Do you think we'll have a wedding soon?"
"I don't know," Merlin replied, with a smile as wide as Arthur's. "But let's hope so."
The two laughed together, the sound filling the room like a familiar and beloved song. Merlin nestled against Arthur, his head finding the king's chest with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times.
"Four babies," Arthur murmured, his voice more sleepy now. "Four heirs. Four little dragons running through the castle corridors."
"It's going to be chaos," Merlin agreed, a smile on his lips. "The best kind of chaos."
"Merlin?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you think they'll look like you?"
Merlin thought for a moment. "I hope so. You need more people to drive you crazy."
Arthur laughed softly, the sound muffled against Merlin's shoulder. "You already do that very well on your own."
"Someone has to."
Arthur lifted his head to look at him, his eyes meeting Merlin's with an intensity that made the sorcerer hold his breath.
"I keep imagining what they'll be like," Arthur said, his voice softer. "If they'll have your hair or mine. If they'll have your eyes..."
Merlin felt something tighten in his chest. "They're going to be perfect. I have no doubt."
"How do you know?"
"Because I know." Merlin touched Arthur's face, his fingers tracing the curve of his cheek. "I know because you're wonderful, and everything you do is perfect to me."
Arthur didn't respond. Instead, he leaned in and kissed Merlin — a slow, deep kiss that said everything words couldn't.
When they parted, both were breathless, their eyes still fixed on each other.
"You're an idiot," Arthur murmured, his voice rough.
"Your idiot."
"Forever?"
"Forever."
The sun continued to set outside, painting the sky in ever-deeper shades of orange and purple. Camelot Castle continued its rhythm, oblivious to the moment of peace in that room.
Inside the chamber, two men lay on the bed, their bodies intertwined, their minds finally at peace.