Chapter Text
Holy shit, that was close. Merlin had always been a loyal servant of the Pendragon family, using his magical powers to help Arthur and his father, Uther. However, things had reached a boiling point. During an emotional moment with Arthur, Merlin's magic spiraled out of control, almost reducing the Mansion to rubble and turning the stables into a flaming inferno. Merlin couldn't take it anymore.
He decided that he had to leave and resign from his position. He could no longer tolerate Arthur's behavior, which he felt was that of a spoiled brat. Merlin was tired of always being there for Arthur after his various adventures and had reached his breaking point. He had stood by Arthur through thick and thin, even when it meant risking his own life. But the emotional toll of it all had finally gotten to him.
Merlin wrote his resignation and placed it on Arthur's desk. He then said goodbye to his dear friend Gaius, who had been a mentor and father figure to him for many years. Gaius lived in a small house near the Mansion and provided Merlin with guidance and support when he needed it the most.
Merlin knew that he needed to get away and start afresh. He had always dreamed of taking a trip on the luxurious Belmond Andean Explorer train, and now was the perfect time to make his dream a reality. He embarked on his journey, excited to start a new chapter and leave the drama and chaos behind.
"Could you have the decency to tell me where the fuck you are?" Gwaine snapped. Even a few thousand miles away from home and one of his best friends, he sounded just as loud, annoyed as if standing next to Arthur's ear.
"Peru," he admitted, feeling a little sheepish. Of course, any other guy who'd receive bad news would head into the next pub and drown his sorrow in two to twelve or whatever many pints. Arthur Pendragon's method was different. When he got bad news, or in this case, devastating news, he made adventurous travel plans like using his father's corporate jet to fly to Peru.
Arthur took a ragged breath, "Listen, no need to worry."
"Too late. We're already worried." Gwaine sounded royally pissed. "Everyone around here is worried sick. You hear me? Your father almost OD'ed when he found out you packed your bags, hijacked the corporate jet, and left nothing but a note that you're okay and apologize for the inconvenience."
"First of all, I didn't hijack the corporate jet. There was a flight plan." Arthur raked his shaky fingers through his messy blonde hair for the millionth time. People kept looking at him like he was a freshly escaped lunatic. Not surprisingly, it was the first time for Arthur to travel without his valet, who was also his bodyguard, secretary, confidant, and the guy who kept him grounded while he now felt like the moon orbiting the earth. Nothing was normal about this trip as Arthur had booked it himself while drunk and bawling his eyes out on the marble floor of his bathroom.
"What's up with you and Lance?" Arthur stirred the conversation into a friendlier terrain by feigning casual disinterest. Only to resume, "Merlin quit. Big deal."
Gwaine momentarily choked on whatever he sipped, "Merlin has been with you for how longot now? Fifteen years? I thought he was your best fucking friend."
"You're my best fucking friend," Arthur corrected, trying to ignore the pain that hearing Merlin's name spoken out loud caused him.
"He was my employee, nothing more."
"Bullshit," Gwaine teased. "Don't think I'm stupid. I know you're hurting. Do you know why he did what he did? Merlin was always very tight-lipped concerning you."
Arthur felt numb. He knew he could count on Merlin's loyalty, which worsened what happened. He could have shot Merlin in the foot, and Merlin would tell the authorities it was his fault because he stepped on the bullet in the dark. Arthur heard Merlin's familiar muttering, "Silly me."
Arthur swallowed, but the lump in his throat was solid. He wondered if he'd already reached humiliation's rock bottom. If he had an ounce of dignity left, he would shoot Merlin another text message. Unfortunately, Arthur was at the end of the rope and had no interest in waiting for a reply that would never happen. Instead, he tried to keep Gwaine on the line for as long as possible to delay the inevitable moment that would cause his damn heart to break.
"How's Lance?" Arthur asked, feigning a cheery grin. "Still hugging the porcelain gods?"
"Don't get me started. I have told my husband that sympathy for morning sickness doesn't exist. God bless our poor surrogate mother. She is currently experiencing rough times."
Arthur's best friend he'd slept with whenever he felt to scratch an itch and allowed him to do the same while keeping everything under wraps and, in addition to that, out of the tabloids, had finally found the love of his life and put an end to the casual friends-with-benefits scheme which led to a giant, excruciating, mostly dry spell for Arthur.
"I'm so sorry," Arthur said. "Being in paparazzi's crosshair is hard, and I don't want to know what it feels like when you're preggers."
Gwaine heaved a sigh, "Everyone is telling you their opinion. Like, I'd give a fuck or want to hear it. It's between the three of us and no one else. But Rita is tough. She can handle it."
Arthur relaxed. Talking about his friend's pregnancy adventures was a safe topic. Gwaine and Lancelot already had a little son named Leo. Arthur loved him to pieces. And he hoped the next one would be a whirlwind of a little girl who kept her fathers on their toes.
"I don't care if it is a boy or a girl; promise me to put Arthur somewhere in the name. Royals have a lot of names so that no one would take notice," Arthur chirped.
Gwaine scoffed. "You consider me dumb enough that I don't get what you are trying to do? That you are changing the subject? Be aware, I do. I know you're hurting, and I know you're stalling."
"God Gwaine, I have loved him since he set foot in my father's house," Arthur whispered, the words so small, he could barely hear them himself.
"I know," Gwaine's voice was affectionate and kind. "And how often did I tell you you need to tell him, not me?"
Arthur barked out a laugh. Loud enough for four women near him in the baggage claim to edge farther away.
"You know I've been there, done that. Have some rejection memories… if you want proof."
"Nonsense, you know I don't need proof. In a moment of desperation, you'd told my husband, who came running to me and asking for advice to help you." Gwaine sighed.
"Arthur, confessing your crush to Merlin in a blackout-drunken stupor on your birthday was a poor choice. Besides, Merlin had also just returned from his mom's funeral. After losing her, he couldn't afford to lose his job. You're a billionaire. He's nothing but your servant."
"Don't call him that," Arthur hissed.
Gwaine grunted, "I'm sorry."
"God, I was so fucking selfish. Such a prick. What he must have thought of me."
Arthur didn't bother to correct Gwaine's assessment of his drunkenness. It was much easier to keep Gwaine in the illusion that he couldn't remember anything when Arthur did, in fact, remember every single moment. The calm look, Merlin's tender touch as he unbuttoned Arthur's shirt. The pitiful look on his face, the slender fingers that ran along Arthur's arm only moments before racing him into the bathroom where Arthur puked his guts out.
Arthur's face flushed with embarrassment as though this happened only yesterday while it was, in fact, years ago.
"Arthur Pendragon, as long as I know you, you're not giving up until you get what you want. Merlin loves you. Find him. Talk to him."
Arthur knew Merlin loved him like a servant loved his master, like a coworker with whom you shared countless work hours.
In a nutshell, it is not anywhere near the kind of love Arthur wanted from Merlin Emrys.
"I tell you, Gwaine. I've tried. He won't answer my calls." The lump in Arthur's throat was about to choke him. "He didn't even say goodbye. All he left was his resignation, where he thanked my father for his years of employment and said he needed time to pursue a new dream. He thinks it's time to move on."
"Bummer," Gwaine said. Right then, an older man in a dark suit showed up, holding a sign with Arthur's name.
"Arthur, what was Merlin's dream?"
Arthur huffed a breath, "A house with his own flower and vegetable garden. A dog. To be honest, Gwaine. He might have had a dream that never included me."
"Then what in the world are you doing in Peru?"
"He sometimes mentioned his dream journey would start with the Belmond Andean Explorer. Call it a hunch. I gotta go. My driver is here. Bye Gwaine.
"Bye, Arthur."
Merlin stepped onto the platform, his eyes widening as he took in the long line of sleek carriages that stretched out before him. Each one was perfectly polished, with gleaming black exteriors and plush interiors that looked like they belonged in a palace.
For Merlin, being here felt surreal. He had never expected to go on his dream holiday. Yet, here he was, surrounded by luxury and possibility.
As he looked around, his thoughts turned to Arthur, the man he loved with all his heart. He knew that this trip was partly an attempt to put some distance between them and move on. But even as he tried to focus on the excitement and adventure ahead, his mind kept drifting back to the memories he shared with Arthur, and the ache in his heart grew stronger with each passing moment.
But it was better for everyone. Since he'd left Pendragon Mansion, he hadn't set any fires. And he felt his inner balance return.
"Don't start second guessing your decision. You did what was best for you," Merlin muttered. Who knows what surprises this trip will hold? But as hard as Merlin tried, his thoughts kept returning to Arthur. Currently, Merlin thought about when Arthur's partying lifestyle began changing from simple fun to more. Maybe a few years ago, when Gwaine opted out because he'd fallen in love with Lancelot and shocked the world by coming out? Or had it been more recently? Did it matter? Arthur Pendragon had changed. He no longer spent time with his beloved sister and nieces, whom he adored. Instead, he hung with a crowd of people who only valued his name and status. He'd stopped encouraging Merlin to come along and attend events together, invitations Merlin always appreciated though never accepted. When he came home, he didn't tell Merlin about what happened, let alone who he'd met. In fact, Arthur Pendragon hardly spoke to him anymore.
Arthur had always been someone who couldn't sit still, especially when he was at home. He would often pace around, fidget with objects, or simply stare out the window with a look of restlessness. Merlin had been around Arthur long enough to notice these things and had come to the conclusion that Arthur was eager to get away from home whenever possible.
Merlin's realization that his place in Arthur's life was no longer significant impacted him deeply. He loved Arthur dearly and had always been there for him, but now it seemed he was no longer needed. This realization was so profound that it even affected Merlin's magic. When Arthur left the house that evening, Merlin's magic lashed out, almost setting the Mansion with the stables on fire.
It was a stroke of luck that Percival was on duty that night and managed to extinguish the flames before they could do any damage. However, the incident left Merlin wondering what caused his magic to react violently. He knew that as much as he loved Arthur, he couldn't watch them drifting apart, and he feared that this might be the beginning of the end of their relationship.
Merlin never wanted anything more than Arthur Pendragon. But they weren't meant for each other. All this talk about the two sides of the same coin, as his late mother used to call them, was nonsense. Merlin was so done with watching Arthur leaving the house and him being on standby and waiting for him to come home. It was finally time to do something on his own.
The train platform was busy but not nearly as crowded as a commuter platform. This luxury train carried fewer than a hundred passengers, which was great. Merlin was in Peru to find some peace.
I am about to start a new chapter in my life; Merlin thought as he stepped into the car—his brand-new start.
Working for the Pendragons had paid out. It was one of the reasons Merlin stayed for so long, even when it started to break him. Taking the Belmond Andean Explorer was something his mom wanted to do with him. Only her deteriorating health didn't let her fulfill her dream. Merlin dreamed of a future in a little cottage outside of London with a garden. A life where he wasn't Arthur's valet or Arthur's friend or Arthur's anything. He would simply be—
"Merlin!"
Merlin shut his eyes and convinced himself he was imagining the familiar voice. He refused to let a detour to a mental facility ruin his trip.
He opened his eyes, took another step, and heard it again.
"Merlin Emrys."
Merlin slowly turned around to see the best and worst thing that could have followed him all the way from home—Arthur Pendragon.
The absolute and, without a doubt, hands-down love of his life.
Laying his eyes on Merlin's dark curly hair and his slim figure caused Arthur almost to stumble over someone else's luggage. Unlike Arthur's own hot-mess self, Merlin was beautifully dressed in black slim-fit pants and a burgundy button-down. His black Converse stood in stark contrast to the dark blue, silver-laced carpet in this luxury train. But it was so Merlin that Arthur felt his heart skipping a beat or two at his sight.
Arthur had called out Merlin's name in shock, as he couldn't believe this was really happening. How were the chances to find him here? Arthur followed nothing more than a hunch, leading him straight to his lost love. How should Arthur know that his hunch was part of Merlin's magic calling him, even without Merlin knowing about it? The subconscious sometimes did strange things.
Besides, Arthur never thought that the stingy Merlin would treat himself to such a luxurious vacation. Yes, he loved luxury trains and often raved about them because they were his mother's dream, but he had never had more than a model train. Plus, he'd always said that nobody needed a vacation. Yes, time was changing. However, the fact that Merlin hesitated when he heard his name told Arthur that not all hope was lost.
Merlin had spent fifteen years responding to Arthur's voice, which was most likely ingrained in his DNA by now. Which was why it felt wrong to watch him blatantly ignore it.
Arthur was increasingly frustrated as he tried to catch Merlin's attention again. He had called out to him multiple times. After a few moments of tense silence, Merlin finally turned around, revealing the hesitation in the coiled muscles of his back. Arthur noticed that Merlin's eyes were slightly narrowed, and his jaw was set in a tight line. With a deep breath, he looked Arthur firmly in the eye and said, "No." His voice was low and firm, leaving no room for argument. Without another word, Merlin continued down the narrow hallway of the carriage, leaving Arthur standing there in confusion and frustration.
Arthur stared at him in disbelief.
"No?" What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
"Sorry, Sir. Mr. Pendragon, you're blocking the way for other passengers. Please follow me. Your suite is the third door on the right, just here." The porter seemed to have caught the tension of the situation and tried to de-escalate. Arthur followed the man in a haze. His lungs seemed to have filled with sludge and threatened to choke him.
Arthur entered the suite and nodded politely as the man pointed things out. His brain was too occupied with juggling possibilities, leading to Merlin's odd behavior.
Had he quit because he couldn't stand him anymore? Arthur asked himself over and over again.
Or… Like a fired heat-seeking missile, an idea blasted through his mind: Was he sick? Was he dying? Did he hop on this dream of a train because it would be his final journey after he'd received devastating news?
Arthur drew a ragged breath. Even at the risk of making himself even more unpopular, he had to get to the bottom of the matter. He needed to know the state of Merlin's health with the ulterior motive of how things stood with them both.
Arthur thanked the butler and watched him leave after he had put a crumpled ten-pound note into his hand and immediately snuck out of the suite. With an air of nonchalance, he strode towards the compartment. Without knocking or signaling his presence in any other way, he boldly opened the compartment door and found Merlin standing in the middle, with his hands tucked inside his pants pockets, gazing out of the window. Outside was nothing but the grimy, red cladding of the adjacent train.
"Merlin?" Arthur spoke Merlin's name strangely and hesitantly, his usual air of confidence replaced by uncertainty. For the first time, he found himself at a loss for how to act toward Merlin. Arthur had always been used to getting his way and taking what he wanted, but this situation differed. Merlin had fallen out of his previous role, and Arthur needed to figure out how to approach him. He couldn't rely on the same dynamic they had before, leaving him uneasy. Despite his discomfort, Arthur tried to maintain a composed exterior, though he knew that Merlin would be able to sense his unease.
"Are you okay?" he added.
Merlin didn't turn around; he sighed and lowered his chin to his chest. "Why in the world are you here, Arthur?" he asked.
"I…" Arthur was hesitant to answer. He didn't want to reveal the true reason for his visit - his overwhelming desperation to be close to Merlin again and the void that Merlin had left in his life. He searched for an appropriate response, trying to conceal his emotions.
Merlin shook his head, a look of concern etched onto his face as he turned to face Arthur. He carefully scrutinized Arthur's appearance, taking note of every detail, from the color of his eyes to the tone of his skin. It was almost as if he was attempting to assess whether Arthur was physically and mentally fit enough to face the challenges ahead.
Merlin had performed this task for many years, and it was a habit that he found difficult to break.
"You follow me even though I handed in my resignation beforehand and am here as a private individual. Not as your employee. Not anymore. You..."
"No," Arthur objected vehemently. "I didn't follow you here. I didn't know you were here. I followed a hunch, a feeling, because..." Arthur ran both hands over his face. "God, why is this so hard for me? I miss you, Merlin." His voice broke a little. "And I can't... and I want to... I..." It was like someone was asking him to suck on hot coals. "I want to be with you."
There you go. He had said it without bursting into flames just like Gwaine had told him to: go and tell him. And now? They could finally pick up where Arthur thought they had left off. Merlin would understand his feelings. As he usually did.
Instead, Merlin gave him a humorless laugh. For him, it seemed Arthur had hoped to rekindle their relationship, but Merlin quickly pointed out that Arthur's motivations were not genuine. Merlin believed that Arthur missed the convenience and comfort that he provided rather than missing him as a person.
And that's why he replied, "I'm sorry, Arthur, but you don't miss me. You miss someone cleaning up after you, organizing your life for you and serving everything on a silver platter. You just have to grab and shove it in your mouth or elsewhere. But I assure you that you don't miss me."
Merlin's words caused Arthur's heart to shatter into tiny pieces, and it felt like something had sucked the air out of his lungs. He couldn't believe how little Merlin thought of him and what they had shared. Arthur felt anger welling inside him, like blood from a deep wound. "You're wrong," he said. "You have to know..."
But Merlin's voice suddenly lost its confidence and became exhausted. "Go away, Arthur. I came here for peace, for escape. I'm done arguing with you, declaring myself to you. That's one of the many reasons I left."
Arthur wondered how long a man could stand upright in a hail of bullets without getting hurt. "Can we please talk about it?" he whispered.
Merlin shook his head. Arthur saw him clenching his teeth. Was it worse than he could have imagined in any nightmare? Could it go any deeper than mere dislike? Could it be...hate?
Arthur nodded slowly and plastered a grin on his face. He didn't care. Of course, none of this mattered.
Watch me, how I give a fuck to everything. I am the king of negligence. I'll be your clown; my life is a circus, and I'm selling out tonight.
Arthur raised his hand defensively, "Yeah, good. Okay. I got it. No problem. Enjoy your… trip." Arthur gave him a jaunty salute, like an absolute nut job and returned to his suite, where he would sit to stare at the same dirty red train.
A little later, the red train began to move. It took Arthur a while to notice it as, actually, their train was moving out of the station, not the other one.
He couldn't care less. For the rest of the trip, he would stay in his compartment and feel sorry for himself until they reached their destination in a few days. Then he would fly back home to London. To work in his father's real estate company, show his face at countless charity events, and come home to an empty house to spend endless lonely nights and gray, utterly Merlin-less days there.