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It's been three weeks, four days, eleven hours and thirteen minutes. Not that Arthur is counting. Time seems to stretch out, seconds feel like an eternity and Arthur has lost interest in everything.
His room is an unsightly mess, clothes strewn everywhere and old food left to rot on the table. Training sessions have been few and far between, the King unable to bring himself to lift a sword. The Knights have noticed of course but no one knows what to do, how to console him.
When Merlin first went missing, Arthur was on his horse faster than you could say Camelot, a search party at his heels. They'd searched high and low for days, Arthur's dogs sniffing wherever they could reach. There was a momentary glimmer of hope when one dog began barking madly and Arthur dismounted and ran as quickly as his feet would take him. When he stopped, his heart dropped. All the dog had found was Merlin's red neckerchief, there was no sight of the servant.
Arthur rolls over in his bed now, eyes tired and red from crying. The neckerchief is twisted round his fingers and Arthur sniffs it once more, the familiar scent of Merlin filling his nose. He glances at the window and counts; three weeks, four days, eleven hours and fifteen minutes. Outside, Arthur can hear birds calling, signalling the start of a new day. He wants to shut out the sound, to shut out the world. How can the birds sound so happy when his whole world has ended? It simply isn't fair.
He rolls over again, unable to find comfort in the large bed. Eventually, Arthur gives up and he moves from his bed to the window, the red fabric still in his hand. He looks over the courtyard, everyone is going about their business. Maids and servants are hurrying around, the Knights have returned to training without him, even Gaius is up and about. Arthur wants to scream at them all, he doesn't understand how they can just carry on .
Arthur is shaken from his thoughts when his stomach growls, long and low. He can't remember the last time he ate, was it yesterday? Does it even really matter anymore? He shakes his head, willing the feeling to subside as he looks at himself in the mirror. Arthur sighs. His hair is matted and dirty, his eyes are red, the tunic he's wearing has several stains on it and he's not sure he can name them all. Lifting an arm, Arthur can smell himself and the stench makes him gag.
When's the last time he bathed?
He can't remember. The days have blurred together. Arthur strips himself down, never once letting go of the neckerchief, and finally, for the first time in god knows when wipes himself down. The water is cold but it's something at least, he smells a little less than before. Arthur struggles to find clean clothes but when he does, it takes him twenty minutes to find the energy to get dressed.
Because really, what's the point of it all?
Arthur looks in the mirror again, there's a small improvement but he's still a mess. He ties Merlin's neckerchief around his neck and sighs heavily. He doesn't know how long he stares at himself, at the neckerchief, wondering when he got so pathetic, but suddenly, there's a knock at the door.
“My lord,” George enters the room and waits for a response. “Sorry to interrupt you, Sire. But I wondered if you would be wanting breakfast downstairs?”
Arthur turns on the spot. “I don't care.” He stares at George with an empty expression.
George nods, unsure what to say or do.
“Tell me of the search party,” Arthur asks, returning to stare out the window.
“I'm sorry, Sire. Returned this morning with no news. Should I--”
“You can leave now.”
Arthur doesn't see George bow and leave the room, he doesn't see much behind the tears clouding his eyes. “Where are you?” he whispers, but no one is there to hear.
Six weeks, two days, seven hours and thirty-three minutes.
Six weeks without Merlin.
Six weeks without his teasing, his cooking, his care, his smile.
Six weeks and Arthur is ready to let his grief consume him. He smelt worse than ever, looked worse than ever, felt worse than ever.
The red neckerchief still sits around his neck in a lame attempt to feel closer to Merlin. The smell of the manservant has long faded but Arthur can still remember it in his mind. He remembers everything about Merlin. The way he'd look first thing in the morning, obviously tired but still happily going about his duties. Arthur thinks about the way Merlin would make fun of him in the evenings after a training session, how he'd make his aching body feel at ease. Arthur remembers his eyes most of all.
Merlin's eyes always fascinated Arthur and now he hasn't seen them in six weeks. He thinks about their deep, grey hue and feels a pain in his chest. Gods, how he misses Merlin.
Arthur hears a knock at his door but makes no attempt to move, he's too tired, too dejected to care. The knock comes again.
And again.
“What the fuck do you want?!” Arthur shouts, sitting up in bed, a face full of anger.
Leon opens the door nervously. “Sire, my apologies. We just… How are you?”
Arthur wants to shout, wants to scream at Leon to leave. He wants the whole world to leave him alone and let him grieve. But he sees the look of genuine concern on Leon's face and words falter, they get stuck in his throat. Instead, Arthur takes a shaky breath.
“I… It's…”
Leon takes a few steps into the room. “I know. I'm sorry, Arthur, I truly am.”
“Six weeks. It's been six weeks.”
“Sire, the Knights and I were wondering… The search party, we've been out almost every day trying to find something. Arthur, I think it's time--”
“No.” Arthur leaps from the bed, he can feel the anger rising in him.
He doesn't mean to shout at Leon but he can't seem to stop the words falling from his lips. “You're not fucking giving up! He's still out there, you will continue to search until I say so! Understand?!”
Leon swallows hard and nods. “I understand, Sire. But there isn't much more of the kingdom we can search, we've looked everywhere.”
“Then go further. Look all over the world if you have to. I want him found.” Arthur demands.
“Sire…” Leon begins but hesitates when he sees the look on Arthur's face. “We shall extend the search.”
“I shall come with you.” Arthur states and Leon knows better than to argue with him.
Arthur mounts his horse for the first time in nearly two months and it feels so foreign to him like he doesn't truly belong up there. He's followed by Leon, Gwaine and Percival who keep exchanging worried looks behind his back. Arthur decides not to comment on it.
As they pass through the forest, Arthur continually strokes the neckerchief. It somehow makes him feel closer to Merlin, almost as if when he touches the neckerchief, he’s touching
Merlin himself. Arthur refuses to believe what everyone around him is saying. They all think Merlin’s dead because how could he survive six weeks in the forest? How could he stay hidden for six weeks and leave no trace behind except the red neckerchief?
Arthur knew it didn’t make sense but he refused to acknowledge that fact, he ignorantly clung to hope. Hope that Merlin was out there, somewhere. Maybe he was hurt, maybe he had found a cave and hid, waiting to be found. Arthur sniffed, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall once again. He’d cried more in the past six weeks than he had in his entire life.
They move further and further into the forest, the sun beaming down making Arthur’s neck hot beneath the red fabric. Up ahead, Arthur can see the spot where they first found Merlin’s neckerchief. Even though Leon insists they’ve searched the area numerous times, Arthur demands they search again. The King dismounts and takes in his surroundings. There are trees in every direction, a small stream to his left and a steep bank to the right. Arthur sends Gwaine and Percival to the left, to investigate the stream whilst he and Leon traipse down the bank.
Arthur stumbles over a branch as they reach the bottom of the small hill and he swears at the ground. The twisted root seems to mock him and Arthur kicks the earth with sudden force. As his toes connect with the ground, something catches his eye.
There, beneath the mangled roots, under a pile of golden-brown leaves, Arthur sees a small piece of fabric. It’s dirty and wet but Arthur can tell it was once bright blue, he can tell as he lifts it, that it’s part of Merlin’s tunic. The fabric feels the same as the piece around his neck and Arthur cries out in frustration, a strangled scream full of hurt.
“You didn’t see this?! How could you miss this, Leon?! HOW?” Arthur storms over to the Knight and grabs him by the collar. “Look at this, look at it! It’s his and you missed it!”
“Arthur, I’m sorry, I swear we searched here. I’m sorry!”
Arthur pushes Leon aside as he glances up. He hears Gwaine and Percival at the top of the bank. “We heard a scream, what happened?” Percival asks.
“You fucking idiots missed this.” Arthur holds up the blue fabric and scowls. The look on his face is of pure rage and the Knights swallow hard. “Just go, all of you. I will search myself.”
“Arthur--” Gwaine begins.
“It’s your Majesty to you.” Arthur spits out.
“Come on, the King has given us an order. We should go.” Leon takes the lead, shooting a look at the other Knights.
They walk away reluctantly and soon, Arthur is alone once again.
The forest seems quieter than usual. He can’t hear any birdsong down here, no whistling in the trees.
It’s eerily quiet.
Arthur takes the blue fabric and ties it around his upper arm as his eyes dart between trees, searching for something, anything. It’s quiet and still and the air seems to hang heavy around him. Arthur’s never seen the forest this quiet and it unsettles him, it’s a strange feeling. He wanders forward, taking each step slowly, eyes wide.
There’s a movement to his left and Arthur turns quickly, he stares ahead but sees nothing. Then a movement to his right and he turns but once again, nothing. Arthur is sure that there’s something there, he can sense a presence but just cannot seem to place it. Arthur can’t shake the feeling that he’s being watched and it angers him that he can’t see anyone. He pulls out his sword and swings it in one, large circle.
“Who’s there? Come and face me!” He shouts to the sky, to no one, to anyone who can hear.
But the forest is silent. No one responds.
Arthur continues, unsure which direction he’s facing. Is Camelot back to the east or west? He doesn’t know and doesn’t really care anymore, all that matters is carrying on, searching for Merlin until he can’t any longer. He vows right then and there to walk to the ends of the earth if he needs to, he will stop at nothing to find the manservant.
He isn’t sure how much time passes but when Arthur next finds a clearing, he can see the sun setting low behind far away mountains. He stares off into the distance and wonders how long it would take to walk there, to go beyond that horizon and disappear forever.
The forest is still silent.
A few more moments pass and Arthur can’t hold it in any longer. He opens his mouth and screams into the world, empties his lungs of all the air, screams until it stings. His knees buckle and Arthur falls to the ground, painful sobs racking his body. He pounds his fists into the ground and screams again, his voice hoarse this time. Arthur’s eyes sting as he cries and cries and cries.
“Where are you?” He whimpers quietly, weakly. “Merlin… Come back... Come back to me.”
Arthur curls up where he is, crying, weeping and hugging his knees to his chest. He thinks he’s never felt pain like it. Arthur’s been stabbed, strangled, whipped, shot with arrows and broken more bones than he can count but none of it compares with the pain he feels right now.
Right now, Arthur wishes for death. It's the only way he thinks the pain will go away.
He wishes for Merlin and wishes for it all to be over.
When the sun rises, Arthur feels the warmth on his face and he blinks repeatedly, letting his eyes get used to the brightness. He sits up and groans. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, he only remembers the crying and the pain. He touches his neck, the red fabric is still there. He lifts his arm and sees the blue fabric in its place. He can’t face giving up just yet. One more day, he thinks, just one more day, maybe I’ll find him.
Arthur stands and stretches out, lifting his arms to the sky. He looks around, wondering which direction to go and something pulls him towards the mountains. It’s like an invisible force is drawing him in, urging him to go that way. He follows the feeling, trusting his instincts. Arthur walks and walks. He feels like he’s been walking for eternity, his legs seemingly moving of their own accord until he stumbles, his limbs weak and heavy. He lies on the forest floor, trying to find the will to get up again, the motivation to keep going, but nothing comes. Arthur stares up at the sky where clouds have begun to gather, grey and soft above him. The same shade of grey as Merlin’s eyes he thinks and for the first time in weeks, Arthur smiles.
He touches the red neckerchief, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. It’s soft and warm and Arthur wishes he’d taken notice before. He feels tears start to trickle down his cheeks and bites his lip.
“I can’t go on without you.” He whispers. “Merlin… I need you. I miss you.” He knows now, knows for certain that no one is listening but that doesn’t stop him. “I can’t be King without you by my side, come back to me, please. I … Merlin, I love you.”
Arthur whimpers into the ground, tears falling and heart aching. It’s the first time he’s ever admitted it aloud, the first time he’s uttered the words he’s been feeling for years. But Merlin isn’t here to hear it, no one is. The last thing Arthur remembers is sobbing into the ground.
Fuck, it’s cold , Arthur thinks as his eyes open. He doesn’t recognise the room he’s in, tall stone walls and a small window to the left. He glances around, wondering if he’s alone, the room is quiet apart from Arthur’s heavy breathing. He steps out of the bed and finds his feet are bare, the chill of the floor shocks his skin. Once he’s found his boots, Arthur pulls them on and then reaches instinctively to his neck, Merlin’s neckerchief is still there. The blue band on his arm is intact and Arthur breaths a sigh of relief.
As he moves to the next room, Arthur can see a huddled figure in the corner. It’s dark and the figure is leaning over a book, chanting an unknown language. Arthur reaches for his sword but finds it’s not there, he’s defenceless. Arthur tiptoes, as quietly as he can and tries to get a look at the figure.
“You’re not as stealthy as you think, Pendragon.”
It’s a woman.
“Who are you? Why am I here?” Arthur demands.
“We found you lying in the woods, he could feel your pain.”
“What do you mean? Tell me who you are!”
“Young Pendragon, be calm.” The woman turns to face Arthur. “Everything will become clear.”
Arthur is taken aback by the woman's beauty. As she stands, Arthur can see her long blonde hair fall in gentle ringlets down past her shoulders. She’s wearing a simple green dress and a headdress made of ivy leaves sits atop her head. As she takes a step forwards, Arthur instinctively takes one backwards, unsure of what to make of the woman. She seems to know him somehow but Arthur swears he’s never seen her before in his life.
“You’re nervous and afraid, it’s understandable. But Emrys cares for you, you are safe here.”
“Emrys?”
Arthur recognises the name, it stirs something deep inside. “The sorcerer? He… Please, just tell me what’s going on.”
“You must have many questions. Emrys came to us in our hour of need, we were under threat.” The woman starts to leave the room and Arthur realises he’s to follow.
“There are many druids and sorcerers here and we all look to Emrys for guidance, he is the strongest of our kind.”
“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me,” Arthur states, looking around in awe at the room they've just entered.
The walls are decorated with vines and flowers, small twinkling lights float in the air. The floor is soft and mossy and the air smells fresh. It’s one of the most wondrous sights Arthur has ever seen.
“Emrys heard our call, came to help. We’re safe now thanks to him. But he feels your pain, deeply.” As the woman walks, flowers appear in her path, small pink blooms. It’s beautiful.
“So you brought me here to meet with him? Does he know where Merlin is?” Arthur asks hopefully. If Emrys can feel his pain he surely knows where the hurt has come from.
“Your questions will soon be answered.” The lady points Arthur towards a low log. “Emrys will come to you.” She turns to leave.
“Please, tell me your name,” Arthur asks as he sits.
The woman smiles sweetly as she turns to go. “Good luck, Arthur Pendragon.”
Arthur is left alone once again. He wonders briefly if this is heaven, if he’s died and the green, leafy place he’s ended up in will be his eternal resting place. There are worse places to spend the afterlife, he thinks. He looks around at the floating lights, mesmerised by their simple beauty. He reaches out to touch one but it flits away, just out of reach.
“Arthur…”
The King hardly registers the mention of his name at first, the voice sounding all too much like Merlin. This is heaven , Arthur decides.
“Arthur.” The voice says again.
Arthur breaths deep, a sense of calm washing over his body. He’s dead, he knows it, and if he’s dead, he’ll be able to see Merlin again. Arthur accepts his fate, accepts that he’s dead on the forest floor. As he looks up, Arthur’s eyes lock onto a tall, slim figure.
Standing before him, in the mossy, grassy heaven, is Merlin.
Merlin, Merlin , Merlin .
Arthur’s breath catches and he leaps forward. In one giant step, he’s in Merlin’s space, holding the man close to his chest. Arthur thinks momentarily about how real the ghost feels but he’s too caught up in the moment to pay much attention to it. All he can think about is Merlin.
Merlin is here, in his arms.
Arthur feels Merlin’s arms snake around his waist, hugging him back. They stand there, simply holding one another, breathing each other in for a long moment and then Merlin pulls back.
“Arthur, you’re here.” He says, a small smile pulling at his lips.
“I can’t believe I lost you before...” Arthur starts, “I-I won’t lose you in this life.”
“In this life?” Merlin questions. “What do you mean?”
“Here, in this afterlife. Merlin, I never knew what heaven would look like but this, this must be it.”
Realisation washes over Merlin’s face and he sighs. “Oh, Arthur… No. Let me explain… Please, follow me.”
Arthur doesn’t understand but follows anyway. Merlin must know all about this heaven, must know all the secrets and mysteries that the afterlife has to offer.
As Merlin pulls back some of the hanging ivies, Arthur can see the forest outside, it looks like the forest outside Camelot. Arthur takes a step forward he feels at home once more.
“Arthur, I need you to listen to me,” Merlin says and Arthur thinks he looks… Sad.
“What is it?”
“Eydis, the woman who greeted you, she told you that Emrys could feel your pain, that he cared for you.”
“None of that matters now.”
“Just shut up and listen, you prat.”
Arthur smiles because there, right there is the man he loved in life. The man he risked his life searching for but Merlin’s face is still downcast and Arthur frowns.
“Emrys had to come here, to save these people. It was his duty, do you understand?” Merlin doesn’t give Arthur time to answer. “It was my duty. I would never have left you if it weren’t important. I was getting ready to return when I felt your presence, I felt you close.”
Arthur’s mind is going into overdrive, not understanding a word of what Merlin is saying. How could he return if he was dead? What did Emrys have to do with it all? It seemed like Merlin could read Arthur’s mind as he continued.
“I should’ve told you long ago, Arthur… Emrys… Is me. I am Emrys. I have magic.”
Arthur pauses, stays silent for a moment and then lets out a raucous laugh. “Well, we’re in the afterlife, I suppose anything is possible here.”
Merlin groans. “We’re not dead, you idiot! I’m here, you’re here and we’re alive. ”
Arthur falters. “We’re… I’m… You’re… You’re alive?” He reaches out a hand and touches Merlin’s cheek, the man's skin warm under his fingers.
“Yes.” Merlin whispers, leaning into the touch, a tear falling down his cheek.
“You’re alive,” Arthur repeats. “You’re alive and you’re here and... You have magic.”
Merlin nods, his face twisted with worry. Arthur’s fingers are still on Merlin’s cheek as he tries to piece together everything he’s just heard.
He’s not dead.
Merlin’s not dead.
Merlin has magic.
Merlin’s not dead.
Arthur can’t stop himself, he can’t hold back. He takes a final step forward and presses his lips to Merlin’s. He holds the man close, closer than he’s ever held anyone and pours his entire soul into that one kiss. When Arthur pulls back, he waits, looks at Merlin for a sign, a signal, anything.
Merlin looks taken aback at first and then Arthur feels himself being pulled back in, feels Merlin's lips on his again and all the world seems to fall into place. He’s standing in the forest, kissing his manservant and hoping beyond hope that what Merlin said about them being alive is true.
Merlin pulls back this time, grinning widely and gods, how Arthur has missed that smile. Arthur feels himself smiling back, the first true sign of happiness radiating from his body, Merlin’s smile is truly intoxicating. He doesn’t move when Merlin lifts a hand and places it over the red fabric on his neck.
“Is this..?”
“I found it the day you first went missing, I couldn’t bear to part with it.”
Merlin smiles and then Arthur notices his eyes falling to his arm. “And my shirt.”
“I needed to feel you close, Merlin. You have no idea… No idea what it was like.”
Merlin links his fingers with Arthur and sighs. “Our destinies are connected. I wasn’t sure what that meant at first but I could feel you when you were near, I could feel the pain you felt. Arthur, I heard you.”
Arthur’s cheeks flare up as he remembers his lonely confession on the forest floor, his feelings being spoken to the empty sky and he glances down.
“I love you, too, Arthur,” Merlin says, dropping his forehead against Arthur’s.
They press their lips together once more and Arthur swears his heart restarts. There’s so much to take in, so much to understand. Merlin is Emrys, Merlin has magic, he decides they’ll come to that later. Most importantly right now, Merlin is alive and Merlin loves him.
Arthur isn’t sure what this means for their future but that can wait. For now, he strokes the red neckerchief one last time, vowing to always keep it close to his heart, where he’ll keep Merlin.
In this life, and the next.