Thy Kingdom Come
For Arthur, his name had always been at the same time a deep irony and a strong burden. It was the stuff of legends, and yet, as he became familiar with them, they all felt somewhat odd. Arthur could never shake the feeling that it wasn't [i]quite right[/i].
Even wrong, they molded his character; the kind of man – of King – he wanted to be. it made him fight for a better world – not with a sword and a shield, but with words and actions. But something seemed to be missing, something vital.
When it all came to place, it was sudden – and irreversible. Those were his people, his place, and his speech wasn't empty words, but his true heart's desire – his own Pride too.
He was dancing when Arthur first saw him – well, if his ungraceful flailing of limbs could be called that. Every single moment, every single life came back to him at once as he watched the young dark-haired man move to the beat. As Merlin – it could only be Merlin – raised his head and their eyes locked, Arthur was sure that time itself had stopped for them; once again.
People seemed oblivious to it all, and for the first time in ages (maybe in his whole life), Arthur knew what was to push through a crowd. They stopped, staring at each other for just a second (an infinite one) before their lips crashed in a desperate, perfect kiss.
There were many couples around them, but none so passionate – or none who included the Prince of Wales – and they all made space for them, cheering and clapping, but Arthur couldn't hear it through the softness of Merlin's lips and the harshness of his fingers in his hair.
Now his kingdom would surely come.