Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.

Notes: This was the product of two texts to xxxayakaxxx, who keeps me inspired and also keeps me from my homework. :)

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Arthur is king and also a boy who's lost his father. He wears his crown with dignity and radiating calm, while doubt roils in his stomach. He fears: that even his resolve will not make him the king he wants to be; that he will fail and his kingdom will be burdened with a useless king, almost worse than a harsh one; that he can never live up to the faith he sees in his people's eyes, one pair of eyes in particular. Merlin has always expected great things of Arthur, and the fear of seeing disappointment burn on his face keeps Arthur up nights. But Merlin, with his uncanny knack for knowing Arthur like no other, sees his troubles and sets them to rest with a look that expresses his wonder that Arthur could imagine he could ever disappoint Merlin. He strips Arthur of his clothes and his walls and his strong defenses, leaving him with just his crown and a pleading look in his eyes. Merlin puts him before the window and holds him in loving arms, the view of his kingdom spread before him.

"This is what you rule, sire," Merlin whispers into his ear. "This is the kingdom you have and will love and protect." Arthur shakes, fingers digging into the windowsill. "They will speak of you as the greatest king to ever rule Camelot, Arthur. Of this I have no doubt." Merlin's words sear through Arthur, finding the dark places of doubt inside him and burning them away. They ground him as firmly as Merlin's hands on Arthur's body. Camelot is beautiful before his eyes, and Merlin is strong at his back. "Arthur," he murmurs, one hand spread across Arthur's heart. "Arthur, King Arthur. My king." Arthur feels his certainty and pride ring through his body, and he tips his head back against Merlin's shoulder and lets himself believe.

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