The First Sight of Red

"Merlin..."

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"What?"

"I said..."

...merlin...

"I..."

...Merlin...

"love..."

...Merlin!

"...you."

MERLIN!

With a single swoop, Giaus emptied a pitcher of frigid water upon the face of the exhausted, young warlock. Merlin's limbs flailed in a terrified frenzy, attempting to save himself from the icy lake he had unexpectedly entered in his (previously lovely) dream. Whilst gasping for oxygen, he managed to smash the side of his confused head on his bedside table, finally waking him from his wondrous nap. He glanced up to find Giaus glaring disapprovingly at him. The sun was already high in the sky, announcing that the prince would awaken at any moment!

"You couldn't have thought of a more civilized way of waking me up!"

Giaus attempted to keep a stern expression upon his time-ridden features, but the humor of the situation swiftly took hold and he lightly smirked at the soggy manservant before him.

"You better get a move on, Merlin," Giaus tossed him a towel, "duty calls."

It took Merlin merely a minute or so to be out of the door, for he knew the punishment for being late to wake the prince... moving target practice. He shivered at the thought while he sprinted through the stone corridors. As his lean legs carried him throughout the magnificent palace, a sequestered phrase continually pestered his mind, "I love you... I love you..."

Making a quick stop at the palace kitchen, he fetched the prince's breakfast: five strawberries, two eggs, and a baked potato. His stomach rumbled at the sight of the small feast steaming with warmth and flavor, for he had been forced to skip breakfast this morning.

Upon bursting into the prince's quarters, he found Arthur (thankfully) still resting and snoring with such magnitude that it resonated throughout the entire room with a booming echo. It took all of Merlin's being not to burst out in a fit of laughter. Just as he was about to wake his master, Merlin stood there for a moment, tracing the nobleman's perfectly sculpted muscles with his captivated eyes. There were tiny slivers of light escaping from the closed curtains that highlighted them almost artistically. Merlin tilted his head slightly as he bit the topmost part of his bottom lip.

"Stop it Merlin! You're only hurting yourself by doing this!"

The sorcerer tried desperately to avert his eyes from the superbly exquisite scene, but he caught a sudden whiff of Arthur's intoxicating scent and was once again drawn to the sight of the prince. He could feel his blood swim faster through his veins, his heart nearly smashing against his ribcage with every beat. Merlin wanted to do more than just gaze upon this fascinatingly distracting man, he wanted to...feel him, taste his skin, breathe him in, grip his bloody perfect hair-

"MERLIN! Stop this! You've managed to keep your magic a secret for this long... why should your feelings be any different..."

He frantically shook his head, attempting to reclaim his thoughts and simultaneously rid himself of his suddenly rosy cheeks, "You're his servant, Merlin... nothing more..."

In a very respectful manner, he placed the platter of delicacies upon Arthur's table, sauntered to the window, and unveiled it while declaring in a fictitious sense of cheer, "Rise and shine, Sire! It's a beautiful day!"

Arthur, extremely irritated by the sudden beams of light pounding upon his eyelids, unwillingly rose from his comfy bed. His citrine hair was completely and utterly disheveled. He smiled brightly at the sight of his manservant. He could tell that Merlin had gotten up in a hurry, for his luminous (yet pitch-black) hair was quite bedraggled in the back. The prince let out a delicate giggle as he whispered under his breath, "Oh, Merlin...Well, I'm going to have to give him a hard time... how could I not?" His striking blue eyes glistened as he stretched his weary arms, yawned, and ferociously threw the nearest, finely patterned pillow at the back of Merlin's head.

"OW! What was that for!"

Sitting up in his bed, Arthur smugly grinned, "You really thought I wouldn't notice?"

A surge of complete and utter terror swept up Merlin's back, causing it to unnaturally straighten. His brilliant ultramarine eyes widened as he shifted his weight nervously. Stumbling over his every word, he attempted to form a comprehendible sentence, "I was just- I thought that you were sl- What are you talking about?" Merlin locked his jaw, "Great... just great..."

"You..." Arthur, with a sudden rush of energy upon seeing his breakfast, galloped out of bed,"... are late."

Merlin let out a sigh of relief as he rolled his eyes thankfully, "What are you talking about I'm right on time..." he nervously adjusted his blue scarf, still trembling slightly.

"Nope, you're late, by four minutes if my eyes serve me right," he pointed out the window, from his table, to where the sun was lethargically rising in the sky. It was (ever so barely) past the 7:00 mark. Arthur gazed at Merlin and with almost a menacing tone he said, "You know what that means."

The sorcerer passionately stared at the shirtless prince,"God I want you..."

Remembering his status and swiftly snapping back to reality, Merlin's eyes darted around the room as he hectically attempted to think of an explanation for his tardiness, "Come on, Arthur! I still have bruises from last time!"

"Not my problem."

"But-"

"Merlin!"

"...but-"

"MERLIN! It's either target practice or the stalks! Now get over here and pour me some water! I'm parched!"

"...yes, Sire," defeated, Merlin dragged himself over to the prince, water pitcher in hand.

"You really can be a prat, Arthur Pendragon..."

Just as he was about to feast upon his lovely breakfast, Arthur paused, "Merlin?"

"Yes?" fearful that Arthur had somehow heard his thoughts, Merlin nonchalantly filled the prince's goblet with the crystal clear liquid, managing not to spill a single drop.

"Why are there no strawberries on my plate?"

Merlin glanced down at his slightly less hollow stomach, "I-I believe they just ran out, Sire."

Arthur stood from his throne-like dining chair, a mischievous grin working its way upon his face, "Then would you care to explain why there's strawberry all over your bloody neck?"

Bloody indeed. Upon his blue scarf, lay the spewed remnants of a once perfectly succulent strawberry. Spurts of crimson could also be seen surrounding the corners of his perfectly rosy lips and just below his jaw where his skin seemed to be the most pale. Arthur drew a line down Merlin's fragile neck with his index finger, collecting what remained of the fiery juice. Merlin's eyes fastened upon Arthur's, unsure of what the hell he was doing. In an almost dream-like state, Arthur placed his entire hand around his servant's neck, possessively clutching the back of it. He caressed the livid skin with his thumb, seeming to forget everything he wasn't supposed to be, everything he wasn't allowed to crave. Merlin froze, losing the battle of wills going on within his head. His body grew suddenly limp and powerless as one of his hands began snaking up the prince's bare back. Arthur entrancingly leaned into Merlin, his lips now inches away from the warlock's slanted neck. Merlin's eyelashes wildly fluttered as he felt the prince's warm breath upon his skin. A hushed moan slipped from Merlin's lips, bringing the nobleman back to reality just as quickly as he had escaped it. His back suddenly went rigid with fear and embarrassment.

"Dear God... what am I doing?"

Acting as though he didn't almost just give into his inescapable urges, Arthur took a quick step backwards, picked up his index finger from the boy's pasty neck, and placed it upon his tongue, "Mmmmm! How I would have loved to devour those! Looks as though you will be graced with both target practice and the stalks today, Merlin! Bravo!" he clapped his hands sarcastically, "I believe you've reached a whole new level of improper servantry!"

He forcefully snatched the goblet from Merlin's frail hands and made his way for the door, holding his breath the entire way, "Did that just happen... did you just- Oh my God you did..."

His face had gone as red as a newly blossomed strawberry (ironic). Arthur was going to get as far away from Merlin as humanly possible, he obviously could no longer control himself around his servant... servant... Merlin was his bloody servant. If his father were to find out... that would never happen, for they would never happen... He purposely left his breakfast untouched because, though he would most likely never make eye contact with him again, he knew Merlin was on the brink of starvation. The sorcerer, utterly heartbroken and confused, stared longingly at the prince as he turned to enter the hallway. Acting as though he had not been dreaming of that moment for ages, he bowed timidly.

"Thank you, Sire."

Arthur stopped in the middle of his carved doorway, twirled around, stared for a moment at Merlin's impeccable lips, then unmercifully blared, "Don't forget to polish my armor, clean my room, wash my clothes, and make my bed. I expect to see you in two hours, Merlin! Don't even think about being late if you value being my servant," upon leaving, he glanced at Merlin's unfathomably gorgeous eyes. For some reason, there seemed to be a deep melancholia residing within them, a sadness and hunger that chilled Arthur to the very core. Realizing he was (once again) staring at his manservant, he took a short sip of water out of his silver, glittering goblet to hide the embarrassment that continued to creep over his chiseled features, and swiftly left his chambers, feeling as though he had left a beloved part of himself behind... no matter what was to happen... Arthur would always needMerlin if he was to be whole...

Merlin waited until he could no longer hear the prince's footsteps to inhale his breakfast and gather his jumbled thoughts, "I enjoy being your servant far more then you will ever know, Arthur."