Mirror, Mirror

by JulieGee

There were a lot of reasons why Merlin loved Arthur, but one of them he had never shared with anyone and never would.

When the time came to leave the his home, he didn't have too many regrets. He knew he would miss his mother terribly, but in many ways he felt liberated. He no longer had to be around the people who caused him so much pain.

When he was twelve years old, he had been hiding in a haystack waiting to jump out and scare his friend Will. As he hid there, trying very hard not to sneeze from the straw tickling his nose, three of the village girls had stopped to rest, hiding from the intense afternoon sun in the shadow of the haystack.

They were chatting about boys in their village as girls will do, comparing the benefits and drawbacks of each one. Merlin hardly managed to control his laughter as they ran down the list. John was stupid but had a body to die for. Andrew was handsome but was already losing his hair. Then they got to Merlin.

Mary was the nicest girl in the village and he had always thought she liked him "in that way," even though he didn't feel the same about, well, any of the girls. "He's so sweet," she said. "Clumsy, but sweet."

Merlin rolled his eyes, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing. It was pretty hard to argue with that one.

Then Sarah spoke. "Could you actually see yourself married to someone with those ears? He's cute, but he looks like he could take flight at any time!"

Eva laughed so hard she nearly choked. "I'd never even consider him. Could you picture what your children would look like?" she stated with a tone of finality.

Mary paused and said, "You're right. I can't picture anyone wanting to look at those things for the rest of their life."

They all giggled as Sarah said, "You'd better lower your voices. He might hear you. How could he not with those ears?"

Having taken their break, they got up and went back into the fields to help with the planting. Merlin broke into tears. When Will came by later as expected, he remained silent. He didn't want his friend to see him crying. Actually, he didn't want anyone to see him ever again.

That evening, they had gathered around a bonfire to celebrate the end of the planting season. Merlin tried to enjoy the party with the rest of them, but he just couldn't. When he got up to get some ale, as young people were permitted at celebrations, he bumped into Mary. She paused and looked at him, her eyes narrowing. Then they they widened in shock. She knew he had heard. Somehow she always knew. She walked up to him and gave him a big hug.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't really mean it," she said as she tried to wipe away the tears appearing in his eyes, but the damage had been done.

As time passed, his shoulders broadened, his voice deepened, and his cheekbones grew more defined. His hair darkened to a stunning ebony, and beautiful flecks of gold appeared in his eyes. Gradually it became clear to him, to everybody, that the young women were competing for his attention constantly. It didn't help. Since that awful day he heard the girls talking about him, whenever he saw his reflection in a pond he saw someone ugly staring back.

When he started working in the palace, the most difficult thing for him to deal with, even more than the insufferable prince, was all the mirrors around him constantly. No one in his village could afford one so he didn't have to look at himself, but in the city large mirrors displayed an abundance of disposable income. They represented status, and so the castle had them everywhere. Now he had to look at himself every day.

One evening he found himself trying to save Arthur's life yet again. The prince had been very quiet lately, as if hiding some terrible secret. He couldn't keep Arthur alive if he didn't know what foolish thing the prince was planning to do next. He cast a concealment spell so he could hide in the prince's room, hoping to find out what was wrong. The spell was powerful. It even worked on the sorcerer casting it.

The prince's room was one of the most ostentatious in the castle. A large mirror hung on one side of the room. As Arthur entered, he slipped through the door cloaked in invisibility. He crept silently across the floor, carefully avoiding the prince as he sat down at his desk. Then he saw the mirror. For a few moments, he actually stood transfixed before it, looking at one of the most wonderful sights he had ever witnessed. The reflection showed the beautiful prince, but he was nowhere to be seen.

He shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. He crept up behind Arthur, trying to see what he was writing. He was certain it was something foolish. The prince was not known for his ability to avoid danger. In fact, he seemed to cultivate it.

Arthur was doing something surprising. He was writing a letter... to his manservant. The prince poured out his heart on paper, admitting his long time love for him. He signed it "Love, Arthur," and then stood and folded the letter carefully. He dripped some wax on it, and stamped it with the seal of the Crown Prince of Camelot.

The prince held the letter to his chest as he walked across the room. With a resigned look on his face, he tossed the letter into the fire, never intending it to be seen by anyone.

The next day as Merlin stood in front of the prince, helping him dress as usual, he paused, looking deep into the prince's eyes. He stepped closer to him and kissed him softly. After a moment of surprise, Arthur returned the kiss with passion. Nothing needed to be said.

A short time later as Arthur moved deep within him, he caressed Merlin's ears. Caught in the ecstasy of the moment, a moment when truth flows free, he whispered "those ears, those beautiful ears." Merlin gasped, not just from the feeling, but also because the thing that made him feel so ugly for so long was something Arthur cherished.

From then on, whenever he looked in a mirror, he no longer saw an ugly person looking back. He saw a man Arthur was deeply attracted to, not in spite of his ears, but because of them. In one breath, Arthur had taken his self-loathing and turned into something he admired about himself.

How could you not love a man who gave you a gift like that?