So, it was my friend's birthday and she really wanted a Merthur fic, and thus 'Be My Sunshine' was born! To you, BB-Poo!
"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, but his manservant was nowhere to be found. "Merlin!" Again, no reply. Arthur sighed, putting down the laws he had been reviewing. His manservant, while typically unreliable, could at least be trusted to show up at some point. But he was supposed to come a little while before Arthur woke up, meaning Merlin didn't typically get there until Arthur's stomach was digesting itself. But almost half a day had gone by, and he hadn't heard a peep from him.
He made his way to Gaius's, figuring if Merlin would be anywhere, he would be there. Perhaps Gaius just had him working, and had gotten caught up in his duties. Arthur snorted at the thought, but it was still a possibility.
"Gaius?" he asked, winding the corner.
"My lord, is something the matter?" Then, after he had deemed Arthur uninjured, asked, "Have you seen Merlin? He has deliveries to fulfill for me today," straightening up from leaning over his workspace. Arthur sighed, blowing his hair out of his face.
"I haven't see him all day; I had been hoping he was here." Arthur would never admit it, but when Merlin wasn't there, something always felt just a touch off. Merlin, while incompetent and rude and everything a manservant shouldn't be, was a part of his life. He was a constant fixture, one that he hadn't realized he had quite depended on so much.
Gaius shrugged, then brought his hands to his chin. "What's the date?"
"August eighteenth."
Gaius pursed his lips, nodding. "He's at the lake. I'd forgotten... Why today, of all the days to do so..." he murmured to himself, busying himself one more with his work.
"What lake? What happened? Is Merlin okay?" The questions sped out of Arthur's mouth. Gaius wouldn't meet his eyes. "Gaius?"
"Do you remember the Bastet?" he asked quietly. Arthur nodded, puzzled. "There's a lake not too far from Camelot, near the bordering mountains. That's where he'll be. Go alone, or perhaps don't go at all. Merlin won't appreciate seeing anyone today."
"Okay?" He said as he turned, shutting the door as he left, somehow more confused then before. He went to the stables, quickly saddling his horse to go riding.
What did that Bastet have to do with anything? That had been ages ago, almost… Hadn't it been almost exactly five years to the day? But why would Merlin be at a lake, and what did that have to do with the beast? Arthur tried to silence all of his questions, but they kept popping up. He was worried about Merlin- unadmittedly (but excessively) so. Arthur knew, deep down, that Merlin could somewhat manage on his own, but the idea was preposterous to him. The very thought of leaving Merlin alone tasted wrong to him.
He rode hard, not allowing himself nor the horse to rest. Arthur had to get to Merlin, and he wasn't quite sure why. There was a strange burning in his chest, a sort of determination but stronger to get to him, and he didn't understand why. Well, Arthur knew why- he just blatantly disregarded it.
His feelings towards Merlin had shown up a few years ago; maybe two or three. Arthur hadn't quite remembered developing any attachment to him, but Merlin was like that. He went from a pesky commoner to an unruly manservant to his best friend and then to the object of his heart too fast for Arthur to keep up with. It was rather annoying having the kid (Arthur knew he was a man, but calling Merlin 'kid' pissed him off to no end) become a priority in his life.
Arthur was extremely frustrated, to say the least. Gwen had been extremely understanding when he had explained what was going on with him, even swearing to remain his cover story. They were King and Queen, so they had to sustain some sort of facade. Gwen was even starting to romance a lesser noble, and Arthur was happy for her. She deserved love.
He hadn't ridden for very long when he found the lake. Arthur slowed his horse, bringing Ace to a slow gallop. He tied her to a tree, deciding to proceed on foot. Arthur started a brisk walk towards the edge of the lake, trying to find Merlin. The water was clear, nothing piercing its glassy surface. A feeling of deja vu came over him, and Arthur struggled to remember why it was so familiar to him.
And then he heard sobbing. It wasn't loud, and it wasn't a wail- it was so soft he had dismissed it as wind at first. It was high and breathy, fragmented and lonely. He couldn't remember ever hearing a sadder sound. He headed towards the sound, forgetting his original mission. Whoever was crying like that shouldn't be alone.
At first, Arthur didn't believe his eyes. The two pieces of information just weren't working together properly, and he froze.
There was Merlin- Merlin, of all people, hunched over a rock, his knees drawn to his chest. Arthur's chest fluttered like a butterfly's wings, all too fragile. Arthur couldn't see Merlin's face, as it was buried in between his knees, but he could almost picture the expression that would be on it. He was shaking, shaking- and Arthur couldn't move, didn't know what to do. Merlin's sobs weren't what Arthur had expected from him; rather, they were young, and Arthur remembered that his manservant was a few years younger than him.
Arthur was 28 now, much to his chagrin. Merlin had been 17 when he had come to Camelot, nearly seven years ago. He was 23 now, and Arthur forgot how young he was sometimes; despite his occasional childishness, he was more mature than anything, and oft Arthur was fooled into thinking he was older than he truly was. He cautiously approached, trying not to make any sounds lest he startle his manservant. Arthur walked up, unsure how to announce his presence.
"Merlin," he called softly, wincing when the younger man's head shot up- and only then did Arthur see what a mess Merlin truly was. His cheeks, normally holding little color, were bright red, as though he was freezing. Tears streamed down his face, dripping from his chin to create stains in his shirt. But the worst part were his eyes. His eyes, his gorgeous blue eyes, were bloodshot and cherry red. He didn't look as though he had slept at all last night.
"What are you doing here?" Almost instantly, Merlin's walls were up. His legs were released, and he was standing, albeit shakily. There was no emotion on his face, nothing Arthur could read. He wasn't angry; he was done. Merlin was done, and he just couldn't care anymore.
His lips opened and closed, as though trying to make words. "Did-did-did I forget to tell you I wouldn't be in?" He hastily wiped at his eyes, unable to meet Arthur's.
"Merlin," he began, only to sigh and stop himself. He didn't know how to handle this... how to help.
"Could you leave? Please?" Maybe Merlin meant it to be cruel, but it was too desperate, and so Arthur didn't hear it that way. He heard the small break in Merlin's voice, the small tremble. Arthur rubbed his jaw, unsure if he should come closer. He didn't want to upset Merlin, but Arthur couldn't leave him alone.
"I'm not gonna leave you like this, Merlin," Arthur huffed, taking a small step forward. Baby steps.
Merlin crossed his arms and still managed a wicked glare despite his emotional state- or maybe it was because of it. "I want to be alone right now, okay? That's it."
"But why?"
Merlin laughed and suddenly Arthur wasn't sure if it was his Merlin, because he'd never heard a laugh so bitter from his manservant. "It doesn't matter; just leave," he said forcefully, turning his back to Arthur. He stepped forward, reaching for Merlin's shoulder, but the other man shoved him away. "Please," he said hurriedly, a whine building in his throat, "don't touch me."
Arthur nodded even though Merlin couldn't see him.
"I can't leave you like this, Merlin," he said, reaching as if to jostle Merlin before remembering not to touch him. A small, nervous chuckle; the tick of his lips into a halfhearted smile. These little things seemed important to him, despite the fact Merlin wasn't looking at his face.
"Why did it have to be him," Merlin muttered to himself, kicking at the ground beneath his feet.
Arthur's brow furrowed. "Why did what have to be who, Merlin?"
"Whom, not who, you prat. Grammar matters."
"Not the point and no, it doesn't. Why did what have to be whom?" He pressed.
"It's nothing."
"You keep saying that and I know it's not nothing," Arthur said, his voice rising in pitch, "because you're upset and you're crying and you're Merlin; you might be a girl, but you've never cried." Arthur didn't say that he knew because Gaius had told him that he was worried about Merlin, how he was constantly numbing his pain. Arthur had always wondered exactly what pain he was numbing, but knew better than to ask. Gaius confiding in Arthur about Merlin was a big enough step, and he wouldn't press for more.
"Do you remember the Bastet, Arthur?" Merlin's voice was hard and small as he looked out over the lake. Arthur nodded, confused. Why did everyone keep bringing up that damn monster?
Realizing Merlin couldn't see his movement, Arthur said, "yeah, I do."
A deep, shuddering breath. "Did you know that when she wasn't a beast, she was just a druid girl?"
"Yes." His stomach began churning, but Arthur forced himself to remain calm.
"And do you remember how someone had been suspected in freeing her?"
"Yes." That was all he could say, basic answers. He knew what was coming, what Merlin was going to say- but he wasn't sure that it was possible.
"That someone was me, Arthur."
Dead silence that just screamed and screamed and screamed. Arthur heard hissing in the back of his mind, a sort of shrieking that pierced through every thought that had ever formed, every bond of trust that he and Merlin had established, everything he'd ever been told. Lies.
"Anything else I should know?" He heard himself ask, and couldn't even bring himself to care that his voice was cold.
"I hid her for three days. And I thought I had fallen in love with her...or something like that," Merlin admitted.
Arthur's knees trembled. "And that's why you're here."
He wouldn't make Merlin say it- mostly because he couldn't hear the words spoken aloud. He had killed someone Merlin had loved. He had killed someone Merlin had loved. He had killed someone-
"She died here, you know. She didn't die when you shot her. It was here." Numb. That's what Merlin sounded like. "She died here. Surrounded by the mountains and the wildflowers." The ghost of a smile flitted across Merlin's lips.
"What was her name?" Arthur asked, slowly moving towards Merlin once more. It didn't cross his mind that Merlin had fallen in love with a monster- only that Merlin had fallen in love, and it hadn't been- it hadn't been with him.
Merlin tensed, but the tension that had so suspended over the both of them was gone. "Her name was Freya. After she died, I didn't know- I didn't know what I was feeling. I just couldn't get mad at you, and I wanted to; I so, so wanted to be angry at you. But I just couldn't. And I eventually gave up trying to feel mad, and instead tried to make peace with it. You did what you thought was best, and she's at peace now. She was never...she hated herself, for what she was forced to become. And I can't blame you anymore. But she was a good person, and no one, not a single person, really bothered to know her. Just me."
Merlin didn't blame him...but Arthur blamed himself. If he hadn't killed that girl, maybe she and Merlin would be married with children, and living happily somewhere far away, far away from Camelot, from Arthur-
"I wish I had known," he said uselessly, tripping over his words. Merlin nodded, sitting back down on the rock, pulling Arthur with him. Arthur, while pleased with the sudden contact, found it surprising Merlin could even touch him without being repulsed.
Merlin hesitantly put his head in Arthur's lap, closing his eyes. He looked strangely calm, and Arthur had to fight to resist the urge to play with Merlin's hair. This was...this had never happened. They were never so forward. They were about secret glances and subtle touches. But they had always been surrounded by people then, surrounded and suffocated by society, by the conforms of servant and king, by the expectations of Camelot as an entity. Here, in the forest, they were nothing. They were just them, just pure, just each other. Just together, like they should be.
"It's okay," Merlin said after a few minutes of dewdrop silence. "She'd like you, if she had known you. I think you'd like her, too, once you managed to-" he stopped, and cleared his throat. "Maybe if you had a different way of seeing things, then." A pause. "She was very protective, you know. When I told her about you, she had instantly figured it out, even though I hadn't."
"Figured out… what, exactly?" Arthur asked, hesitantly running his fingers through Merlin's hair.
Merlin's bright eyes opened, and air became trapped in Arthur's lungs as they found his own. "That I wasn't actually in love with her. That I was pushing my feelings for someone else onto her. That she was like a sister to me, rather than a love. That I loved someone else." Arthur's chest tightened, and he swallowed.
"Who?"
Merlin was silent for a time. Then he asked quietly, "Arthur, do you think me a monster?"
"What?"
Merlin wet his lips. "A monster. For...for falling in love with someone...someone with magic. Someone- someone different."
Arthur contemplated the question a moment. He had, of course, thought he'd loved Guinevere- a peasant girl. His father had certainly expressed his negative opinions on the matter- but no matter how many times Uther commanded it, Arthur couldn't seem to stop loving her in the way he did. He supposed that you couldn't put limitations on love, just like you couldn't put limitations on nature. It simply was. You loved who you loved, and that was that.
"No," he answered at length. "I don't think you a monster, Merlin. I could never think you a monster for loving someone."
Because if there was one thing Arthur was sure of, it was that love, in any form, was pure. The purest thing in all of Albion. And if by some stroke of luck you managed to find it, you were meant to hang onto it with everything you had. Because it was something meant to be cherished. "I couldn't think you a monster for loving someone, Merlin. Ever."
Merlin took a deep, shuddering breath and sat up, looking at Arthur's face, his eyes meeting his friend's, a curious, serious sincerity to them that Arthur had never before seen. "I figured out...she helped me figure out who it was. That I loved, that is." A pause. A swallow. "I...it's you, Arthur. It's always been you."
"You… loved me?" He didn't dare believe; he didn't dare breathe.
"I love you; present tense, you prat. Grammar does matter, you know." Merlin's ears were turning red. Arthur noticed that the tears had stopped falling, and he gently brushed off the ones that remained on Merlin's cheeks.
He hated himself and yet simultaneously felt better about the words he forced from his throat. "You love me after all I've done?"
He had slain the girl who had been like a sister to Merlin, had treated him... pretty terribly throughout the time he'd known the younger man, and had even hit him with a boot time and again. But Merlin loved him.
Guilt tore up his insides.
Merlin laughed, still not quite normally. "I've done worse by you than you could ever do by me," he admitted, gently reached up clever fingers to twirl Arthur's hair. "It's easiest to just accept it. I don't, not really- but I should I guess. She wouldn't want me to be upset, and I owe her that much." He looked into Arthur's eyes, his own bloodshot but clear. His voice, when he next spoke, was thick. "It's okay if you don't- don't- feel the same. I can stop being your manservant, I- I can, I can leave, even. If you want me to lea-"
Arthur took Merlin's face in his hands and fused their lips together, the taste of tears lingering on Merlin's lips. Arthur hated the fact that Merlin had been so upset and so alone. Merlin kissed back, and Arthur could have sworn that he had taken flight and was soaring high above anything he'd ever seen, higher than the clouds and the sun and the moon, more spectacular than even the greatest kingdom.
Merlin leaned deeper into the kiss slightly before gently pulling away, biting his lip. "I guess you want me to stay, then?" He said softly, and refused to meet Arthur's eyes. Arthur gently tipped his chin up, dark seas colliding with clear skies.
"Forever." And Arthur meant it. He meant it with all his heart.
Merlin's eyes lost a bit of their sparkle, but as soon as it disappeared it had returned, positively glowing. He hesitated, the nerves evident along with the pure excitement. Merlin ducked his head, and something cold and empty crept into Arthur's heart. He gently grasped Merlin's chin and tilted his head up, forcing the younger man to meet his eyes. "Forever, Merlin," he repeated, trying to put everything he felt into words, words that could barely begin to express how truly he felt them. "I swear to you, forever." Then, softly cupping the back of Merlin's head, Arthur pressed his lips against Merlin's once more- tenderly, barely a brush of skin. Merlin bashfully pulled away once more, another wave of red coating his ears as his lips ticked up into that small, lopsided smile Arthur loved so much.
"Forever."
They pressed their foreheads together, just looking at one another. "You're still a prat, you know," Merlin said nonchalantly, and a smile broke out on Arthur's face. The king gently shoved his friend, accidentally almost toppling him.
"You're still a girl- but you're mine now." Merlin rolled his eyes, but his adorable pink blush painted his cheeks and Arthur decided it was worth it.
"Do you wanna head back?"
Merlin shook his head, curling himself into Arthur's chest. "Can we just stay here for a while?"
Arthur smiled and nodded. "Of course." He didn't make a big deal of making sure that he was holding Merlin's hand, or the gentle kiss he placed on Merlin's cheek.
"Arthur?" Merlin began hesitantly.
"Mh?"
"Are you angry?"
"For what?"
"For… me helping someone with magic." Arthur was silent a moment more. Believing Merlin a monster and aiding someone in treason were two very different matters.
"No," he decided. "If you loved her then she couldn't have been a bad person. And it wasn't her fault she had turned into that… thing." Arthur's brow furrowed. "Are a lot of other people like that? Cursed?" Arthur couldn't help but wonder how many victims they'd sentenced because of curses that were inflicted upon them, that they couldn't even hope to control, and suddenly he felt terribly sick.
"Not many, but a good few. Many magic users are simply harmless. Freya told me of some the kindest people she'd ever met, and many of them were sorcerers." Merlin's lips trembled. "She said… She said that magic wasn't good or bad, but a tool. Like fire. Fire can be used to provide warmth, or supplies. But it can also burn, and cause harm. It can be both good and bad; it just depends on how it's used."
Arthur made a note to himself to work with his council to get the magic rules revised. Heavily.
But now, he would just enjoy holding Merlin.
"We have to go back eventually, don't we?" Merlin asked, sighing quietly. Arthur nodded, pressing his lips to the skin at the base of Merlin's neck, his lips brushing against skin as he spoke.
"Yes. But eventually isn't now."
Seven Years Later...
"Stay with me, you dollop head- stay with me." Merlin's voice cut through the blackness and Arthur was brought back to the present. His vision was swimming and his stomach was burning, aching. He remember a battle, and a wound, but he didn't know where he was, or why everything was so hot.
He tried to open his eyes and briefly caught an image of water before his eyes forced themselves shut. His hands were wet, but not with the water; that was blood, wasn't it? His blood? His hands were shaking- and he was cold. Colder than ever he'd been. Merlin's face swam in his vision and he tried to reach out to touch him, but he couldn't move. Merlin sat beside him, something frantic and desperate etched into his beautiful features.
"Forever, remember?" Arthur choked out, a small, fleeting smile crossing his face. Something trickled from the corner of his mouth and he felt it running down the side of his chin. Slap. Arthur shook his head, eyes shooting open, trying to focus on something. Merlin's oceanic orbs were the first things that came into focus, and he latched onto them, trying to discover all of the uncharted, untraversed parts of them that he had only just realized were there, waiting to be explored. They were shiny- tears.
Glancing down, a bolt of panic- pure and painful- flashed through him. Merlin was covered in blood; so much blood. When he realized it was his own blood and not Merlin's, the closest emotion he could grab was relief.
"Stay with me; I'm-I'm not done with you yet," Merlin wobbled, and Arthur knew he was trying to be brave. He took a deep breath, holding Arthur's hands in his own, something vulnerable and frightened coming over his face. Then, taking a deep breath, he promised,"Arthur, I will see you again."
Oh. He was- he was dying. That's what this was.
Well, that was alright, then.
He'd died saving Merlin, after all.
"When your time comes, I'll be there waiting for you."
Merlin began to tremble, tears escaping his eyes to streak in little streams down his face. They fell onto Arthur's lips, and tasted salty. Merlin tried to manage a tight smile, but it failed before it had even stabilized enough to be called anything but a grimace.
"No- no. I mean I'm going to see you again. Living, breathing." Merlin's hands brushed away the tears Arthur hadn't been aware he had been shedding. "I have magic, Arthur. And we have a destiny, together, and there's no time now to explain, but I will see you again. I promise you, Arthur, this isn't our final parting, please, please, just hang on a little longer."
Arthur's heart stopped.
Merlin had magic. Merlin had magic. Merlin had...he... "You have… magic?" He choked out. It wasn't that big of a deal- not really, if he had more time to think about it. The problem was that he had no time. Camelot had made a lot of progress since that day seven years ago, including magic users no longer being persecuted. But Merlin, to have kept that secret from him for so long, to have not told him, killed. Quite literally. Arthur was half-convinced the shock would kill him instead of the wound.
"Yes," Merlin admitted, and it was clear his heart was breaking.
"Why didn't you tell me? Why can't you heal me?" He wheezed between hacking fits.
Merlin hesitated. "Because I love you, you idiot. And there's always been a fear, and there was never a right time. But you need to know, Arthur, that I do love you. And I would never hurt you. And we really will have forever together." He bit his lip, clearly trying to contain a storm. "I tried, Arthur, I tried and tried. Nothing is working. I think the blade was covered in poison, but I don't have Gaius's skill…"
Arthur's eyelids began to flutter closed again, but he forced them open. "Am I going to die right now? Or- or what?"
"You're going to die. I'm going to live, and I'm going to wait for your return," Merlin explained quietly.
And suddenly, that wasn't okay.
Merlin- Merlin hadn't left him, and he couldn't leave Merlin either. They- he couldn't do that, it just- no, it wasn't an option; Merlin needed him and he needed Merlin and they- they belonged together, destiny or no, and he couldn't just give up-
"I'm not leaving you," he said as firmly as he could. "I- I can't leave you, not all alone, for who knows how long… I can't."
Merlin gave him a watery smile that didn't reach his crystalline, fractured eyes. "I'll be fine. You're worth the wait."
Arthur's hand grasped Merlin's tighter.
It wasn't okay. It wasn't okay. It wasn't.
But Merlin would be.
"Please stay," Arthur whispered.
He didn't want to die- he had to be there in Camelot; there with Merlin. What would happen to everyone? But apparently he would return somehow, though Merlin had stopped making sense a while ago. He closed his eyes, finally too weak to keep them open.
He could feel Merlin's harsh, ugly sobs, and they were more heart wrenching than anything he had ever heard.
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine," Merlin sang shakily, his normally clear voice warbly and uneven, breath hitching in another sob. Arthur tried to stay focused on him, his voice, his eyes, on anything that would tether him to this world. But his anchor was slipping away, and with his anchor gone, so was Merlin.
"You make me happy when skies are grey. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away." Arthur could feel the life leaving him, but he couldn't- he couldn't.. He wouldn't leave before Merlin finished.
"The other night dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamt I held you in my arms. When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken. So I hung my head, and I cried." Another hitched breath. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine… you make me happy when skies are grey. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away." Merlin's hands were shaking and they were slippery with Arthur's own blood, but he couldn't care. He couldn't feel, couldn't see. But he could hear Merlin.
"I'll always love you and make you happy, if you will only say the same. But if you leave me to love another, you'll regret it all one day… You are my sunshine, my only sunshine; you make me happy when skies are grey. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away," Merlin sobbed, his chest breaking from the ferocity of his breaths. Arthur wanted to hold him, one more time, but his arms refused to move, and he was drifting, drifting...
"Please don't take my sunshine away."
A Thousand Years Later…
Merlin fumbled with the thermos, desperately trying to get to the coffee inside. It was early, early morning, and the weather wasn't doing him any favors. He had decided against whiskey this year, as last year Gwen had had to come collect him in the middle of a forest, where he had broken down and sobbed and gotten himself so lost he couldn't find his way back.
Everyone had come back- and he meant everyone. Well, almost. No one had found Arthur, or had any idea as to where he was. Merlin had tried not to get his hopes up, but a head of thick blonde hair still made his heart race, and a truly spectacular pair of blue eyes was enough to leave him light headed.
The coffee was strong and bitter and Merlin found himself yearning for tea. But the coffee woke him up, and sometimes he needed to be awake, needed to be aware of the pain. He continued on his hike, eager to reach the lake, the only thing...well.
It was weird to be back in his old body after so many years in his older persona. He had slowly reverted back as the others had reincarnated, and he supposed that it was nice. But this body was one that Arthur had touched, and kissed, and loved, and he felt the missing presence of Arthur even more in the body he had known him in.
"Hello there! I'm sorry, would you mind helping me? I'm at a bit of a loss as to where I am."
Merlin slowly turned, and in one fell breath all the air left his lungs.
It was Arthur.
Except... it wasn't. His hair was spikier than it used to be, he was slightly tanner, more fit that he'd been. Merlin let his eyes travel over his form, letting the sensation of being this close to Arthur sink in. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Arthur was right there, close enough to touch. Coming closer.
"Yeah, of course," he heard himself say, slowly moving towards Arthur, who grinned. Merlin's heart mended and shattered in perfect, precise unison.
"Thanks, mate. Someone told me about a lake around 'ere, do you know it? I'm Arthur, by the way," he exclaimed, holding out his hand. Arthur's eyes were kind and open, but Merlin felt too much like a stranger, like Arthur was a stranger. Granted, they practically were. He shook his hand, giving him a small smile.
"No worries. I'm Merlin, by the way. I'm actually headed to the very lake you're thinking of; I'll take you there."
Merlin's stomach rumbled. It was no way a coincidence that the very day they got together, the very day Arthur had died, was the day he appeared. But there they were, and Arthur didn't remember anything.
"Merlin, huh? Well, isn't that ironic?" Arthur mused to himself, following Merlin.
"Whaddaya mean?"
Arthur shrugged. "You know, those old legends and whatnot. About King Arthur and Merlin."
Merlin's breath caught. ."Yeah, I guess," he attempted nonchalantly. Giving Arthur a sly smile, he added, "I always thought Arthur was a bit of prat, to be honest."
Maybe he just needed to jump start his memory, give him reminders.
Arthur's brow furrowed and Merlin wanted to kiss him so badly it hurt. It had been a thousand years since they had held one another, and now Arthur was back, and they were strangers.
"Really?" Arthur said in near disbelief, something light and almost teasing in his tone. "Well, I always thought Merlin was a bit of a girl, but whatever."
Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Even with his memory missing, Arthur was still the same. He was still Merlin's. Another easy smile from Arthur prompted a small one from Merlin. "So why are you heading to the lake?"
Merlin shrugged. "I have memories there." Good and bad, he silently added, but Arthur seemed to get the gist and backed off. "What about you?"
Arthur shifted uncomfortably, a gentle heat rising to his cheeks. "Well, I'm actually not sure," he admitted. "Someone told me about it in passing and I just got this crazy-ass urge to go, you know? So here I am. If it wasn't for you, I probably would've wandered these woods for ages."
"Yeah, I can get that. But you weren't far from it when I found you; it's only over that hill that," Merlin said, pointing with his free hand. Arthur's eyes darted to the hill and determination uncovered itself on his face.
They hiked the rest of the way in silence. But when they got the first glimpse of the lake, Arthur sharply inhaled. Merlin sent him a concerned look. "You okay, mate?" He asked awkwardly, unsure how close he could get.
Arthur nodded, his eyes firmly fixated on the lake. "Fine," he muttered, moving quickly towards the shoreline, where water met sand. Merlin hurried after him.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Merlin prodded.
"It is," Arthur replied quietly. He turned back to Merlin, brow once more furrowed. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
Merlin forced a laugh. "I doubt it," he lied, nervously playing with his hands. "I mean, you'd remember a name like Merlin, wouldn't you?"
Arthur bit his lip. "I know, but you just look like someone I should know. Someone I knew.. or something like, like that- I don't know!" He growled, throwing his hands up in frustration. Merlin dug his foot into the ground, trying to look anywhere but Arthur. If he looked at him, he wouldn't be able to control himself. It had been so many years- too many years.
"I would remember if I had met you before, I promise," Merlin said softly.
Arthur stilled, and slowly drew closer. "I… I think I know you, I should know you, I just don't know-"
Merlin found his hands grabbing at Arthur's shirt collar, pulling the blonde close to him, so close he could taste his breath. His pink lips were right there, so close to Merlin's own..
And Merlin pressed his lips to Arthur's.
The reaction was instantaneous; they delved into one another, lips moving in perfect synchronization, never breaking for air, too preoccupied breathing each other's. Whirling around, Arthur pressed Merlin up against a tree for support, leaning against Merlin's chest; both their legs were shaking at the knees. Merlin himself was trembling so hard that he was afraid he would accidentally clip Arthur's lips with his teeth; it had been so long since he'd tasted those lips, felt them against his own, had this warmth pressed against him, had this body beside him. In that one perfect, pure moment, Merlin had never been more grateful to be alive.
"Merlin?" Arthur said in awe, pulling back to peer into Merlin's cerulean eyes, radiant with hope and adoration and love. "Merlin?" He repeated, and Merlin couldn't recall ever being happier at the stupid exaggeration of his name.
"Arthur," he breathed, unable to string together any other words because Arthur was here and his and back, and that was all that mattered. Arthur was all the mattered.
"I'm back," he said suddenly, grabbing Merlin by the waist and spinning him, a grin lighting up his features. "I'm back, and you're here, and we're together!" The pure amount of unadulterated joy in his eyes was beautiful, and Merlin still couldn't believe that he was right there, that this was real, that Arthur was here, that Arthur was here and they were together, and Arthur was right there.
"Forever, remember?"
"Forever," Arthur agreed, pulling Merlin close once again.
And Merlin decided that spending forever kissing Arthur would be a damn good way to spend an eternity.
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