#merthur fic

someone read this merthur WIP for me bc it was so good writing it <333

Arthur had been going on these rides ever since Morgana’s death. He always went alone, but Merlin knew that no matter how far he rode, he’d end up at the grave. The first few times, Arthur would still be out at the early hours of dawn and it was Merlin who’d go out to find him under the willow tree by the lake where Morgana had been laid. Arthur had insisted she be buried, not cremated. I want her by my side. If not in life, at least in death. On those dark mornings Merlin would find his King, so strong and dignified when leading his people, drunk and sobbing on his knees, begging for his sister’s forgiveness, always clutching a bouquet of baby’s breath. Merlin would crouch down next to the mess that he called his king, cup his face, red from either all that crying or all that mead. He’d wipe away the tears from his cheeks, and let him tell stories from his childhood that he’d heard a thousand times before. He’d hold him in his arms when his voice cracked and the tears came splashing down again and when the first light came, he’d gently pull him up off the ground, use his fingers to comb his sweaty hair, golden in the sun’s rays and mount him onto his beloved horse Phillip. Then he’d walk the horse back into Camelot, making sure to enter through the backside of the city walls where Gwaine would be waiting to let them in.