My dear loyal followers, I present to you a story for your enjoyment. If you do like it, please comment and let me know if I should keep writing Merlin fanfiction.
It was an unusually sunny day, surprisingly so for the wet spring season. When Merlin had awoken, rolling over on the bed with groaning joints, the dawn had come with flaming red clouds that heralded a vibrant and golden sun. Old withered hands had placed the modest kettle on the hob and Merlin's soft sighs seemed to draw out a blue sky as the hours wore on and the clock struck ten. The small cottage set at the edge of town was graced with the modern conveniences of electricity and running water, small appliances and insulation. However, the furniture was worn and wooden, edges soft from countless hands and years running across their edges. Children avoided the small white and thatched roof home of the man they'd created tales of. An old hermit, one would cry. He kidnaps naughty little children, another's mother would warn with a waggling finger. But in truth, as each day passed and Merlin walked along the waters edge, no one truly knew who the old man was.
And this day, like every other, Merlin took up his leather satchel, donned his weathered boots and headed down the muddy lane. Some days he'd walk in silence, the occasional magpie flitting ahead of him in a hurry and on other days he was spattered by the passing lorries and cars rumbling along the narrow lane. Today the sun glinted brightly off the puddles, warming his uncomfortable bones in a way that brought back memories. Merlin lifted a faded hand to his face, scrubbing at the wrinkles like he might chase the thoughts away. But today he let them stay, for the first time in many, and as he walked faces and names and voices floated through his mind as he let a soft breeze carry him to the waterside. And like every other day, he paused, arms limp at his side as he stared across the lake. The soft ripples reflected the sun like thin, golden rays across the azure surface.
Merlin closed his eyes and acknowledged the pain of his knees as he squat down, simply relishing the fact that he could feel something as his fingers wrapped around a cool stone. When he stood back up, and glanced across the water once more, he was struck by the quiet calm that had surrounded him. There were no children in the street today, no mothers at the garden boxes or the wash lines. It was simply Merlin and Avalon, the sun shining down, the breeze stirring the water and his arm extending back to pitch the stone towards the water. His old eyes watched the stone arc, glinting like metal against the morning light, and as it graced down towards the lake the blue in his eyes suddenly flashed as a strong arm broke the surface and caught the rock in a deft grasp.
The wind died, the birds quieted, and on stilted legs Merlin stumbled forward as Arthur emerged from the waters, cloak dragged forth from the depth and armour clanking. His blonde hair dripped past the strong jaw line, and as his eyes met Merlin's it felt as if the whole universe had come to pause in reverence. One step turned into two, and before he knew it Merlin's wellies had hit the water with a splash. He surged forward, pressing into the water as it washed past his boots, now worn, brown old leather. Arthur reached up, unclasping his cloak as it fell into the water and he reached to remove the metal pauldron. As the lake lapped against Merlin's waist, water splashed onto his arms which were no longer covered by the dull grey coat, but a soft brown jacket. A dry sob built in his lungs as his hat fell aside, and when Merlin grabbed for his chest as if to draw out his own breath, youthful fingers found a red neckerchief. Stumbling over the rocky lake bed Arthur shed his leather gloves and reached forward as he watched the sun hit Merlin's cheek bones, now soft and clean shaven, shadowed only by the black fringe splayed over his forehead.
And as suddenly as Merlin's world had shattered those many centuries before, it was born anew and whole. His fingers clutched at Arthur's heraldic gipon, finding purchase amongst the crimson fabric. Rough hands grasped both sides of Merlin's face and blue eyes met blue. Merlin's hand slid over Arthur chest, stumbling over the knots of the hauberk beneath, his heart nearly beating out of his chest as he felt Arthur's frantic breaths.
"Merlin, I..." Arthur started, his voice coarse as water dripped from his lips. Surging forward Merlin pressed against him, kissing the man as a soft whimper broke forth from his chest and a sob followed. Emotion wracked his body as he clutched Arthur, kissing him until his lungs burned for air and Arthur pulled away and wiped a thumb across his cheekbone. "Merlin, I..."
"Arthur, not now..." Merlin whispered, pressing his forehead to the blondes, chest heaving against his King's as every inch of his body seemed to melt against the man in front of him. The two of them fit together like two halves, creating a whole, breath and blood in harmony.
"Just hold me."