AN: I don't even know what U (as in AU) this is. It's medieval, but I guess there's been a magic reveal already. Gwen seems to be out of the picture. Really, read this how you will. Enjoy this for me.
Things My Father Doesn't Know
My father doesn't know what I had for breakfast this morning.
My father doesn't know about the coin I gave the beggar woman in the market.
My father doesn't know about the trifling things. But there are some very important things he doesn't know, as well.
For example, my father doesn't know about Merlin.
He doesn't know that Merlin has magic, but he also doesn't know how Merlin smiles when I slide into bed with him. My father doesn't know how Merlin only ever trips when he's irritated. My father doesn't know what Merlin looks like when he blushes, stains of pink spreading out from those astounding cheekbones, down to the hollows of his face and then out to those ridiculous ears. His flush that drifts across delicate features, like rose petals blowing over snow.
My father doesn't know the sound of Merlin's stammers and apologies the first time we danced together. That was in the twilight of my chambers, to a sweet lute solo from a traveling troupe playing just below my window. Uther Pendragon does not know how Merlin sighs when I kiss him. My father does not know the maddening moans Merlin makes when his head is thrown back, when his arms are tense yet tender, when I'm concentrating to elicit some more of that heaven from him.
My father doesn't know the feeling of running a hand through the sparse hairs on Merlin's chest. He cannot know how it is to have such an enigma envelop every atom of him, to have the world reduced to touch and feel and skin. My father could not know what it is to be reborn with the intensity of love.
He doesn't know, but I do, and so does Merlin.
Merlin cried in front of me once, after. After sex. It was not our first time, not our last, not unique in any way. But this is how he explained it.
"I don't want to hide it anymore. It's too important. I have to tell someone—our friends."
I tasted Merlin's tears on his lips.
We fell to touching and feeling and skin again.
When he left that night, I tried to stop him. I tried to tell him to tell our friends. I wasn't ashamed of anything.
Really. It was time.
But Merlin interrupted me, as he does. "It's okay, Arthur. I don't mind being your secret. As long as I'm yours."
He smiled a little sadly, a little mischievously, a little mysteriously. Then he turned, adjusted his neckerchief, and left.
I didn't get to tell him that I wanted out, too.
But as my love said so himself—I don't mind being his secret. I don't mind Merlin being my secret. He's like a stolen lolly in my mouth, sweet and precious and hard-earned. He's a flower I took from a bouquet meant for another. He's infinite and I know this in so many ways.
My father doesn't know about Merlin, but I swear to tell him soon. Candies melt quickly in the sun.
AN cont'd: Atoms were considered first in 460 BC. However, the idea was dismissed almost immediately. The next return to them was in the 1800s. Just a record of historical accuracy, when Arthur mentions atoms. This is AU (to a certain extent), after all.
Aghh the ending is all choppy, but thanks for reading. As always, please R&R!
-Lulu
