Father
A three year-old Arthur Pendragon stared up at his father, the king. He smiled in a way that would melt most hearts. "Daddy, I love you!"
Uther glanced up. "That's nice, Arthur." He went back to his papers.
Arthur, however, did not think that was a sufficient answer. He toddled over to his father and pulled on his trouser leg.
"What Arthur?" You couldn't miss the steel in the king's voice.
"I said I love you!" the prince pouted up at him. Why didn't his father say he loved him back? He'd seen plenty of commoners' fathers say it to their children.
Uther sighed. "That's nice, Arthur. Now why don't you go play while I go find your nurse?"
The toddler backed away, eyes trained on the floor.
Mother
Ten-year old Arthur stared at the grave in front of him. It was his mother's.
"I'm sorry you died," he whispered. No one else was around, but he didn't feel comfortable speaking as loud as he wanted.
The wind rustled a bit, sending leaves flying every which way. He spent an hour more there, just trying to remember the mother he never had.
"I love you."
And he left.
Morgana
"Morgana, I love you." This was it. Sixteen-year old Arthur had finally gotten the courage to say what he had been feeling for the past few months.
The king's ward looked up in distaste. "Really?"
He gulped. "Yes."
She glared at him. "Don't mess with me, Arthur."
"W-what?"
"I know you don't like me, so don't pretend that you 'love' me, okay? Besides, even if you did, I don't like you." She stalked off down the corridor, swinging her hips with more a bit force than necessary.
Guinevere
"I love you, so much," the prince whispered during one of his secret moments with his one true love, Guinevere. She smiled in response.
"Oh, Arthur, I love you, too. I know we shouldn't be together, me being just a servant-" She was cut off.
"Guinevere," he said her name lovingly. "You are not just a servant. And I don't care what others would think. All I know is that I love you, and that's all that matters."
"Oh Arthur!" She leaned in and kissed him.
Three months after that, she left him for Lancelot.
Merlin
"Have you ever been in love?" Merlin asked one day, a dreamy look on his face. Arthur raised an eyebrow.
"Merlin, are you telling me you're in love?"
The manservant blushed. "N-no."
The prince smirked. "Who is it?"
"N-no one."
"You do know I can order you to tell me."
"You think I'd listen?"
Arthur rolled his eyes. Typical Merlin, always challenging him. The boy needed to learn some respect. Actually, no, Arthur wouldn't want that. A cheeky and sarcastic manservant was better than a bootlicker. He looked upon his friend's face for a moment. Then everything changed.
Merlin had basically said he loved someone. That hit Arthur like a physical blow. Merlin in love? It just didn't seem right. It was unnatural. It was just wrong.
Arthur suddenly realized the problem. It wasn't the fact that Merlin was in love, but the fact that he wasn't in love with Arthur. The prince always thought his manservant had a form of a crush on him, something that they never spoke of. But, the prospect of Merlin not being just a little besotted with him, just, well, hurt.
Not many people had ever shown an interest in the prince himself – only his titles and wealth – but Merlin was one of those who he had counted on to be there for him – to love him for who he was, not what he had. Merlin was overly loyal; something that flew well in Arthur's book. But the facts that he was overly loyal to Arthur and Arthur only, made it only seem more real. Why did it bother him that Merlin didn't love him? Was he – could he be – in love with the manservant himself?
"Who is it?" he asked again, throat suddenly dry. Did he even want to know the answer?
Merlin shook his head, and flushed again. "You know them. Very well, in fact."
Great, it was someone close to Arthur that stole his Merlin.
"They're brave. And strong. Pretty attractive, too. I really like him and-" Merlin ducked his head, seeming to choose his next words wisely. "He's a bit – a bit of a prat."
Those were the keys words. Arthur knew who Merlin was talking about. "A p-prat?" He had to know, just to confirm it.
"I said that out aloud?!" Merlin sucked in a horror filled breath. "I-I'm – I meant-"
"I'm the only person you call a prat."
Merlin looked away.
"I'm the only person you call a prat," Arthur said again, taking a step near his servant. The boy's breathing picked up.
"I'm the only person you call a prat," whispered the prince before he stepping forward, cupping Merlin's face. The servant looked up, waiting for rejection.
He did not get it. Instead, Merlin received something he had been wanting for a long time. A kiss from Arthur.
"W-wha – ?" he started when they pulled away.
Arthur actually blushed. "Am I right? Am I the person you love?"
Merlin, eyes on the floor, nodded once. That was enough for Arthur.
"Oh, Merlin, you should have said something sooner!" The servant looked up, confused. Arthur smiled wider. "I think – I think I love you too."
Merlin answered with a kiss.
A/N; Hellos everyone and sorry for this story. I wanted to do a "five times" thing and this popped in my head. Well, this really had no point, so bye!
;)