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Arthur took Merlin to his artifact room — a hidden space in the castle, carefully organized by him over the years. Inside were maps of lands he had never visited but studied with dedication; statues that had belonged to his mother; books from every corner of the world, and a multitude of seemingly worthless objects that Arthur found fascinating.
Merlin was enchanted by every detail, taking it all in with sparkling eyes. Soon, the two of them were lying on the floor, over a massive unfolded map, immersed in discoveries.
"And that one? What place is that?"
Arthur looked where Merlin was pointing on the map, and his eyes lit up.
"Those are the..." He cut himself off, concerned, glanced around as if afraid of being overheard, and then lowered his voice.
"Those are the Siren Mountains."
"Sirens? In mountains?" Merlin asked, confused.
Arthur nodded excitedly. "Yes, the sirens there are different — they're not half-fish, they're half-birds. Terrifying women with giant wings!"
"Wow. How did your father allow these books?" Merlin asked, a little tense, but when he looked at Arthur, he noticed his prince was tense as well.
"Wait, he doesn’t know about these books, does he?"
"My father doesn’t even know this room exists, actually..."
"What? But—"
"It was my mother’s. I found it a few years ago, it was locked, but I managed to get in."
Merlin fell silent, and Arthur took a deep breath before continuing.
"My mother had a lot of places around the castle, but after she died, my father shut them all down — the garden, the atelier, the room they slept in... He hid everything that belonged to her out of sight. I think he... he didn’t want me to feel guilty, or... or something like that."
They fell into silence. Arthur looked away, and Merlin watched him pick at the edge of the map with his nail.
"Why would you feel guilty?"
"Because I..."
"You didn’t kill your mother, Arthur." Merlin said firmly, holding his prince’s hand.
"It wasn’t your fault, do you hear me?"
Arthur didn’t respond, but he squeezed Merlin’s hand one last time before letting go and pretending nothing had happened.
"Anyway, my mother was an adventurer — she traveled a lot in her youth. These are her treasures. I added some of mine over the years — books I found while traveling to other kingdoms, ornaments I received from visiting nobles... They’re my treasure, just as they were hers." He finished with melancholy.
Merlin didn’t say anything, only watched him. Getting to know Arthur was fascinating, and seeing this side of him made Merlin believe even more in the golden age his prince would bring.
The night passed, and the two stayed there — Merlin asking endless questions, Arthur answering with enthusiasm. They laughed, debated, pointed at routes and symbols. When morning came, they woke up side by side, shy about their closeness, but neither pulled away.
Years later, and their fascination hadn’t faded — only grown.
"Arthur! Arthur Arthur Arthur Arthur!" Merlin burst into the Round Table meeting breathless, clearly late — but, as usual, unbothered by it.
"Merlin, where the hell were you—?"
Without a word, Merlin grinned wide and pulled from behind his back a feather nearly fifty centimeters long.
Arthur froze, eyes wide with wonder.
"Is that...?"
"Yup!" Merlin confirmed, practically vibrating with excitement.
The knights exchanged looks, completely lost.
"Wow!"
"I know!"
"Where did you find it?"
"Just now in the forest. I think the sirens have heard about me and are migrating closer. Maybe soon we’ll even be able to talk to them or make treaties!"
Immediately, the two of them started talking excitedly, completely ignoring the rest of the room. They left together, eager, in search of the right books and maps to identify which region of Greece the feather had come from.
"What just happened?" Percival was the first to speak after the king and his sorcerer left the room.
"They’ve always been like that," Leon replied without lifting his eyes from a report.
"Ever since Merlin arrived, the two of them have shared that same joy of learning."