This is nice, Merlin decides as he lets himself fall down into the tall, wet grass, next to his prince. The air's slightly too chilly for his liking and the dew is soaking his pants and the sleeves of his shirt, the sky is so clouded you can not see even a single star, but is doesn't lessen the sensation of just sitting here.

It is rare for him after all, not having to save someone, to deliver something or fulfil one of Arthur's wishes.

It's rare for him just to breathe.

So he inhales deeply, concentrating on the silence surrounding them, since it's a rare good. Especially while being his prince's servant.

Most of their waking time together, they're bantering and insulting and fighting somehow (it's not as if he wouldn't enjoy it, he does. Probably even more than is good for him), so Merlin relishes the moments when they don't, storing every detail in his memory. Since that's the only time when there's nothing between them, no lies, no duty or destiny to fulfil.

He stops himself in mid-thought, smiling a little to himself, because as soon as he starts thinking about Arthur, he won't stop, and this night's too precious to spoil it with considering things that won't happen.

Leaning back a little, so he can see the starless sky better, he takes another breath.

'Merlin', his prince calls out softly, and his tone of voice sends shivers down the young sorcerers spine, for it sounds much more intimate than it normally does.

'Yes, sire?', he replies, trying to use the same intonation.

'…don't do that.'

'Do what?'

'The sire; there's no reason to use it, you're not on duty', suddenly Arthur's form stiffens, 'You do know that, right? If you wish, you can leave here right away. I won't stop you.'

Merlin laughs quietly, 'Of course I do. But why would I want to leave? This' he motions to their surroundings, 'Is nice, after all.'

'Good…', his prince answers after a moment, voice trailing off.

This is one of those moments, those where they actually talk and listen to each other. One of the meaningful moments, the young sorcerer is sure of it, and determined not to let it end, he asks something that has been on his mind for ages.

'I'm not just a servant to you, am I?'

Arthur shifts, and he can just assume that the other one's looking at him, since he doesn't dare to look back.

'…of course you are', he states, 'More than that, I mean. I thought, no, I was sure you knew that.'

'I…suspected it, yes. But then, when we were back in Ealdor, Will said something, and although I know, I shouldn't have listened…', Merlin chuckles softly, 'I just couldn't help it.'

His prince says nothing at all, and so they remain silent.

'I'm sorry', the sorcerer suddenly whispers.

'What for?'

'I didn't mean to hurt you with that.'

Arthur scoffs, but it doesn't come out right, not annoyed, but disappointed, 'You didn't.'

The other one doesn't believe a thing, so he just continues talking.

'You know I trust you, don't you? Because I do. Did for a long time, probably before I should have.'

'You do?' There is a surprised tone in the blonde's voice, that he doesn't like at all.

'I trust you with all of my heart, Arthur. And nothing is going to change that.'

Fortunately, it is too dark for his prince to see the light blush that spreads over his cheeks. Never, never he would have thought he'd tell this. Not to anyone, and especially not to Arthur.

But this really is one of the moments they sometimes share, because the other one isn't running, and somehow Merlin's grateful to have told at least one secret.

'Thank you', the answer comes in a different, relieved voice, 'And…', Arthur pauses, fighting with himself, for what he's about to say isn't princely at all, 'It did hurt. A little.'

It is more than the young warlock has ever asked for, and since words fail him, he reaches out and puts his hand on his prince's shoulder (for this is one of their special moments and he's not going to let it go to waste).

'What I wanted to ask you before…There's always something so…secretive about you. Like you are hiding something, and I just can't figure out what it is', the future king continues.

The hand that still hangs down his side starts shaking while his vision blurs just a little and his face goes from cold to warm and back again.

'And what's the question, exactly?', the brunet asks lightheaded, fearing the answer already.

'Not even you can be so dumb you can't figure it out', the other one grumbles and turns again to look at him.

Back in both their minds, there's a small voice calling that Arthur still has not shaken off Merlin's hand.

'I-I am sorry, sire, but I can't…can't tell you. It's-', his prince cuts him off.

'Don't you start with this again, you idiot. I told you you're not supposed to use titles in moments like this. And', the blonde sighs (Merlin holds his breath, because maybe, a moment like this means that the other one notices the special feeling of this night too), 'It wasn't an order to tell me, or anything. I'm just curious.'

'Thank you. I'll tell you…in time.'

Arthur nods.

'You know, sometimes I just don't understand you at all. First you hate me, then you risk your life to protect me. One moment you think I'm a prat, then you go and tell something about my life being more important than anything else. You willingly let my father put you in the stocks because of me, but refuse to go down to the kitchen to bring me another glass of wine. And no matter what I do, you just don't listen.'

'…isn't it better this way?'

'Yes…and no. I've got no idea', his prince replies, 'You're really confusing me. Because I trust you, and everything, but I don't even think I know you!'

Both fall silent, too stunned to think of anything to say. Arthur has just admitted he cares for him, something he never thought he'd do, and Merlin doesn't even think he comprehended the words right.

After a few minutes (and making sure that there was no way he could interpret this wrong), the sorcerer breaks the silence.

'You do know me.'

He feels his prince's head shake beside him, 'I don't even know what your favourite colour is. Or your favourite flower. I'm sure someone like you has a favourite flower. Or-'
'But does that matter, Arthur? Does it matter how I drink my tea in the morning, when we've been through so much together, and when you know how my hands start shaking when I'm really frightened, or how I'd do anything to talk to my father just once? Do all those trivial things matter when you know that I'd gladly give my life for you? Doesn't this count too?'

'Of course they do, but I want to know all the trivial stuff as well, how you drink your tea or what's your favourite book. Because it's all part of you.'

They stay like this a bit, his prince still breathing hard for he has almost shouted out the last part.

'I don't understand', Merlin finally speaks, more hope than curiosity in his voice.

The other one sighs, then answers, 'Neither do I, but somehow even the smallest bits of information seem incredibly important, as long as they are about you. You've got me so far I don't even know how I would manage without you. And to prevent that from happening, it's best to learn everything I can, so if you would decide to leave I could find you and drag you here again.'

And suddenly, the atmosphere has changed. All the frustration they were all but yelling out a moment ago is gone, leaving the mood content and mellow.

Maybe, they think, they have been enchanted, because it's scary how honest both of them are.

The brunet scoots closer, and deciding to take a risk, places his hand on his prince's shoulder again, only this time so, that his fingertips graze over the exposed skin of the other's neck.

'How could I end up like this?', Arthur mumbles, leaning into the touch, which feels so natural it is almost frightening.

'I don't know.'

'…must be your fault.'

'Mine?', Merlin raises an eyebrow, 'Why so?'

''T's not necessarily a bad thing though. After all, life was pretty boring before you came.'

'And it isn't anymore?'

His prince seems to think for a moment before answering, 'No, not really. Now there are monsters and witches and unicorns. It's almost as if you attract them.'

'Attract them?', the young sorcerer echoes his question nervously.

'Oh, don't worry. They just appear a bit more frequently now. You're not cursed or anything. And if you were…'

'Yes?'

Now it is Arthur's turn to be nervous. Biting his lip, he answers, 'If you were, it wouldn't matter. Because I'd protect you, no matter what.'

'Thank you', Merlin whispers a few seconds later, for he hasn't got a clue what else to say. Without him noticing it, he moved even closer and his fingers have curled around the blonde's collar; but as soon as he does, his hand jerks back.

'Sorry…'

'Don't be', his prince replies, the blush even noticeable in his voice, 'I-I like having you near me.'

Dumbfounded, the other one stares, before tentatively inching closer. 'So this is alright?'

He raises his hand again, but this time placing it upon Arthur's who automatically weaves their fingers together.

It feels wonderful.

Taking the silence as a yes, Merlin scoots even closer, until he's able to feel the warmth that radiates from his prince's body. Although he knows that there's no need to ask (for, if the other one didn't want this, he would have pushed him away already), he does.

'And this?'

He feels that Arthur nods as well as he sees it in the dim light, because there's breath ghosting up and down his face. He places his other hand on the blonde's shoulder as well, so that his fingertips are touching. When he concentrates he can even feel the pulse under his skin.

Only when the older man pulls him so he cannot do anything else but straddle him, he notices, really notices how close they are. His first reflex is to back away, but it is forgotten in a second, when Arthur leans in so that their noses are touching.

'You're not going to leave', his prince whispers, and although the young warlock isn't entirely sure if this was a question he shakes his head. There's no way he'd leave, not with this happening.

'…good. Because if you would, I'd really drag you back here. No matter if you'd like it or not.'

Merlin shivers because of the possessive tone in Arthur's voice as well as his hands that are currently working their way under his shirt.

'Never. Never going to leave', he replies a bit breathless, 'Couldn't bear it.'

There's a small pause, before Arthur replies, 'I couldn't either.'

All possessiveness has left his voice; instead it is soft and gentle and…loving. The young sorcerer's heartbeat quickens, and faintly wondering if his prince can feel it (since he can feel the other one's pulse, which is getting faster and faster by the minute) he leans in and touches his lips to his beloved ones.

It's barely a kiss, but it doesn't matter, because it is Arthur and it is him, and somehow this night has gone far beyond nice.

They separate after some time (if it's seconds or minutes, it doesn't matter), still staying so close to each other they have each other's breath their lips.

'Do-', his prince starts, Merlin interrupting him with an enthusiastic nod, for he knows exactly what he wants to ask.

'I want this', he mutter under his breath, 'A lot.'

'That's nice', Arthur replies in an equally low voice, 'Fantastic even. Because if you hadn't, if you'd left…'

'…you would've come and dragged me back me here', Merlin completes the sentence for him and snuggles up to his prince a little more, 'I know.