While it’s not exactly secret how deeply I love Merlin, I’m certainly not shy about mocking it. Let’s face it, it’s objectively an absolutely ridiculous show, between the trolls and the goblins and the CGI monsters of dubious quality and the talking dragons and the farts and whatnot. But then there are weeks, like this week, where I forget I’m watching a ridiculous show and get so deeply invested I no longer care about gaping plot holes or the massive failures in regards to romantic plot line.
(In fact, I could pretty much write the entire column and then some just about how on and perfect Merlin and Arthur’s relationship was this week, about all the love between them, about how much better the show becomes when they stop fearing the gay and embrace it, blah blah blah, but that seems unfair when we hardly had any Arthur and Gwen interaction to compare it to besides the most awkward hug in the history of the world.)
But no. This week, there was plot. And when there’s plot, there’s Merlin being anguished and endearing and in desperate need of a hug. From Arthur, preferably, in place of Gwen. Don’t look at me like that, it’s not like they weren’t laying what could have been groundwork for it in the first ten minutes or so with all the old married couple conversations about trust, or Merlin crying over Arthur and holding him close and and telling him how much he needs him or … um. Right.