Bredhyu

It was a tiny tent, a war camp, not the most comfortable place in the world. Arthur was King and used to a big bed and loads of pillows, it was no surprise for Merlin that he kept moving instead of sleeping. He wasn't picky about where he got to sleep, but he was worried about Arthur. He should rest; they needed him to be in his best shape tomorrow.

Although it was clear that Arthur was awake, Merlin was startled by the sound of his voice when he spoke.

"Do you remember when I told you I didn't get afraid?"

"My first day of work" said the warlock, his voice low and a smile coming through his face. "I'll never forget it."

For a few moments, Arthur said no more, and Merlin allowed his mind to race through those early days, when they disliked each other and knew not how to handle being around for so long. Now he could see the seeds of the great king Arthur had become in his behavior, but back them, he thought he was just a royal prat.

"I lied".

Merlin had been expecting for it, because, really, nothing else could have prompted Arthur to ask that, but he listened as the King went on.

"Well, I didn't. Back then, I was never afraid. I was the best, and it was fun, and I didn't have anything to be afraid of, anything to miss. But now…"

Arthur rolled over, staring the ceiling of the tent, and when he started talking again, it was like a flow he could not control.

"Now it's not just me I have to worry about. All these men… and you as well. Every time they are hit, it's like I'm the one being slashed. I'm responsible for you all. And I'm scared, Merlin, scared of being found wanting. I'm scared that I'm not good enough. I'm scared that I might die, or worse, that I might live while my friends perish in battle because I couldn't save them. I'm scared… You'll die and I'll be completely alone."

Merlin's throat was heavy with emotion, for he knew how much it cost Arthur to admit to such things.

"I won't die" he reassured, for he could not think what else he should say.

Arthur snorted.

"You don't know that. You might die in battle, or you might fall from your horse or… anything. That last time… They told me you had died, and I couldn't handle it. I made them keep searching for you even if there was little chance you'd be found. Knowing you, I'd say you could even die picking up flowers, even if it seems impossible."

Merlin took a deep breath, remembering Morgana and her orders, and how lucky he was that he had failed. Arthur knew nothing about it. He moved, pulling Arthur's hand upon his, and if he was swearing a fealty.

"I promise you, sire, that I will not leave you. I'll be with you every step of the way, doesn't matter what happens."

Arthur turned to him, holding his hand back, as if he accepted Merlin's oath while looking directly into Merlin's eyes. For a while they stayed like that – hands clasped, staring at each other, the air full of their words and needs. Arthur's jaw was set, hard and full of determination, and if a look could keep promises, his would.

It took Merlin a while to notice that his face getting more relaxed and soft, and just then he noticed that he had been caressing Arthur's hand as if calming him down for some minutes. He stopped, ashamed of himself, ashamed of his natural reaction, but Arthur didn't seem to notice his embarrassment, even when he looked away. Suddenly, he really thought about what his king had said, and even if he trusted him to hell and back, he felt it too – the fear of being alone. Arthur's fingers had being caressing the back of his hand, and as Merlin pulled away, he stopped.

"It is ok" said Arthur, "it is ok to be scared."

Merlin shook his head, trying to banish the thoughts of destruction and terror, and hide his mind from Arthur, but the other knew too well what was on his heart.

"Oh, come here you" he said, pulling the younger man towards him and crushing him between his arms. It was hardly a comfort, for it was strange and rude, but it meant well. "You're no soldier, and I should have left you home."

"I wouldn't have stayed" said Merlin, and Arthur chuckled.

"I know" said Arthur, softly, and he started caressing Merlin's head.

"You don't need to do this" said Merlin, gesturing to the awkward embrace.

"I know" said Arthur, and this time it was a whisper, near to the warlock's ear. Merlin turned to see that his king and friend had turned himself towards him, his eyes inches away. "But I don't want to be alone… and I don't think you want either."

There was something in his tone that made Merlin feel confused, but he didn't know what it was. Arthur's right hand was no longer caressing his hair, but his shoulder and neck, in a way that made Merlin shiver and feel his blood flow. Embarrassed, he tried to move to a way that Arthur wouldn't be able to notice it – surely it would go away soon – but Arthur's arms were tight around him. As he tried to move away, the king pulled him closer.

Too close for a friend.

Surely Arthur could feel it, now, and would stop? His eyes were staring at Merlin's lower face, his right hand on his shoulder as his left hand rested between Merlin's back and arm. He didn't know what to do; he just knew this was at the same time uncomfortable and made his blood feel cold as if he was ready to kiss a girl.

Arthur's left hand moved up to his nape and back to his hip before he pulled Merlin one last time, crushing the warlock's lips with his, forcing his body against Merlin's. It was a single kiss, not deep but fierce, full of emotions and power – desperation, loneliness and lust.

"Sire!" said Merlin, releasing himself in shock.

Arthur just looked at him, between confused and eager, and Merlin spoke again.

"Sire, I think you're doing something… We'll both regret later."

Arthur sighed for a moment, losing his grip on Merlin's slender body.

"I'm not stupid, Merlin" he said in his normal annoyed tone, as if Merlin had tried to explain what the doors are for, and not as if he had just kissed his manservant.

"I think you are lonely, sire" said the warlock, also shaky and scared. "And… If you want, I might fetch a camp follower for you, sire, I'm sure…"

Arthur pulled Merlin away in disgust.

"A wench" he said, his tone cold. "I have no use for a wench."

"It's okay, sire…"

"I have a wife" he chastised Merlin, his limbs rigid.

"I know, sire, but…" He didn't know what to say. He didn't want it to come between them. "We can pretend this never happened."

"If that's what you want" said Arthur, unmoving.

"I don't understand" said Merlin, frantic. "You… you were lonely, and then you kissed me, and now you're acting as if I had done something unforgivable when I suggested to find you company – or when I said we could forget this…"

"I have no need for a random woman" Arthur said, clearly at the edge of his temper. "I wanted a friend, someone that mattered near me."

"I am your friend!"

"Yes, you are" said Arthur, moving away. "I'm sorry."

He turned his back to the warlock, that felt completely numb. This wasn't good – this mood of Arthur wasn't what he wanted.

"I'm sorry too, sire, I didn't want to hurt you or shock you, or say anything unseeingly."

"Arthur"

"What?"

"You say you're my friend, but you call me sire."

Merlin looked at him, puzzled, for a second, before stretching his arm and touching the king's shoulder.

"I am your friend, Arthur."

It was a sudden movement, and Arthur had turned, pining Merlin's body to the tent's wall, pulling the warlock back towards him, pressing his full lips against Merlin's open shocked mouth, exploring and touching, for a few seconds before he let go again.

"It was no mistake" he said, looking into Merlin's eyes.

The boy trembled, unsure of what to do. He had never thought of men like that, but Arthur's touch had woken something in him, something deep and hungry that he couldn't face, so he closed his eyes, and kissed Arthur back instead.

Arthur tasted of salty soup and cheap beer. His body was firm and strong against Merlin's fragile and bony frame, but it fit perfectly. They kissed for a long time, Arthur arms around him, his hands running through Arthur's back, until they parted, panting.

Arthur's fingers touched his hip beneath his shirt, and Merlin trembled.

"Are you scared?" said the blond man, looking into his eyes.

"Isn't this… wrong?"

He couldn't forget the things he was taught, or the way the villagers looked when men lived with each other. Even if Arthur was single, it would be unforgivable – and he wasn't.

"It is true" said Arthur, slowly. "And it concerns no one, but us."

Merlin didn't moved, too scared to think about what could, what would happen.

Arthur reached for his dagger, and cut his own hand before doing the same with Merlin. He held the dagger between Merlin's fingers, as he looked inside the man's eyes.

"I pledge myself to you, Merlin, to be your companion and your friend, your beloved king, and no man, no woman and no higher law can come between us."

Tears dropped from Merlin's eyes, for this was an unbreakable pledge, sealed by their blood. He held Arthur's bloody hand in return, as he spoke.

"I pledge myself to you, Arthur, to be your friend and companion, your truthful servant, yours to command at all things, and no man, no woman, and no higher law can come between us."

They stayed like this for a long while, until Arthur broke their hands, put the dagger back into its scabbard and made Merlin kneel so he could tie it to Merlin's trousers. After their early moments, his body was way too aware of Arthur's presence, and the king looked at him as he sensed this response, his eyebrow raised in doubt, until Merlin kissed him.

He knew no more than that – his lips parted, welcoming Arthur, as his legs spread so he could move closer, his arms strongly around his master's body, his hand exploring every inch, his mind open in a way he had never imagined. He no longer knew if he was Merlin or Arthur, or what was happening, but it was a tangle of legs and arms, paths of warm kisses and raggedy breaths as they came together, every secret discovered, every truth shining bigger than words or acts, for they shared everything.

And they would never be truly parted, for they were two sides of the same coin.


Author's Note: One, the title – and the idea to the fic – came because I've been (re) reading some Darkover novels, and as I read a simple scene between Regis and Danilo, I knew I wanted to write something like that about Merlin and Arthur. It got cheesy and confusing, but that's the best I could do (I couldn't handle waiting and brewing the fic, I was too eager to have it finished! I'm like that). Hopefully, it isn't too dreadful!

(Also, I could not wait until The Time Meddler became ripe for some true Arthur/Merlin moment, so I just had to get it out of my system, so I could come back to it)