Only the sweetest words remain


About three things I was absolutely positive. First – I was the worst skier ever; second – I was not going to get wasted. Not tonight, not again. And third – I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with... no. I never, ever watched Twilight, if that was what you were worrying about.

Two strong hands grabbed me by the shoulders. ''Merlin,'' said the lips that were so close to my right ear in a whisper. I shivered from his cold breath, or maybe because of him, Arthur Pendragon, who I felt stood behind me, probably all gorgeous, snow god of Switzerland. And probably the only reason I said yes to this – skiing and après skiing and all the drinking that comes with it. Although I never went up the mountain with him after the first day. After seeing him slide down the ski slope and do tricks like it was no big deal, as if he was born with these perfect, flawless snowboard skills, I felt slightly humiliated. Because there I stood, with shaking legs on these two 'flexible' planks (that's what they'd told me at the shop). I saw Gwen looking at me, and we didn't need to exchange a single word about the fact that we would go skiing without the snow god the next time – we understood each other completely.

It was five PM, quite dark, and all the lifts were closed – I had already called it quits after two PM – but, being best mates with Arthur since my first year at Oxford University – I could say without doubt that he had taken the slope down to the valley, where the hotel was.

I turned on my regular stool by the après ski bar to see Arthur's face. By doing so, his lips touched my cheek lightly and I only thought don't blush Merlin. Do everything but blush. A thought no one could fulfil when one looked into those blue, bright eyes, of course.

''How do you do?'' Arthur asked. He pulled back from me to take of his Uvex ski goggles and silver helmet, and if I didn't find it necessary for him to ruffle and style his blond hair, then he sure did. Snow stuck to his locks in such a fairytale way it was simply breathtaking. Point three was definitely true, and I hated myself for crushing on him like a teenager.

''So?'' he asked, cocking an eyebrow at me.

Don't stare Merlin, answer the bloke! I raised my glühwein in response and said: ''Yup, doing just fine here, snowboard Queen.''

Arthur ignored the last part, reached for my glass and took a sip, while I just let it happen and took in the sight of Arthur's Adam's apple and changed the teenager in my last comment to obsessive teenager. Dear god, the boy with the looks of a prince would be the end of me someday.

The last named person let out a sigh and claimed that 'this was good, just what he needed', taking the free seat next to me. The après ski bar was now slowly crowding with people, and soon the volume button was changed to its loudest level. ''What did you all do today?'' I almost screamed to be audible.

Arthur simply leaned in to make himself clear – smooth, I thought, smooth – and answered: ''Um, two different valleys I went to, did a few black ones as well, just for fun'' – I already felt myself falling flat on the face... – ''and I ate your favourite: kaiserschmarrn with marmalade.''

''Oh.'' Arthur knew what my favourite was? Yes, hís actual favourite was apfelstrudel , but that was a logical thing to know. Because he was blond, handsome Arthur and I was Merlin, big-eared nerd with black hipster glasses and no real biceps at all.

And then Arthur's lips brushed against my ear again, and it tickled in the most pleasant way while he said: ''I would've liked to share with you, Merlin. Same plate, same fork... same glass.'' My eyes flashed to my glühwein, which he was still holding. Don't blush, don't blush. Arthur isn't flirting with you and he damn sure isn't in love with you. He made that clear after that silly, awkward kiss a few years ago. Even so, I wasn't one to ruin such a perfect moment as this – at least that was what I made myself think. I leaned in and told Arthur I was extremely jealous and that we were practically sharing since he was still holding mý glass. And that I'd like it back, thank yóú very much.

''You sarcastic twit with your ski-boots on the wrong way,'' he answered, but did give the glass back – after he'd emptied it. ''Here, enjoy.''

''Jezus, Arthur!'' I exclaimed. ''You gigantic prat! Oh man... I hate you so much right now, you do not want to know.''

Arthur flashed me a grin. ''You know you love it,'' he teased, giving my shoulder a little push with his fist in a friendly (?) kind of way.

I denied his words: ''Nope, I really, really think that was unnecessary,'' but his smile was so affective I couldn't help but show him one of mine.

''You liar,'' Arthur breathed in my black hair. ''Are you ever going to change, Merlin?''

''No,'' I simply said, trying to ignore the ache in my stomach to grab Arthur and just go for it, ''you'd get bored.''

He shook his head fondly and murmured something that sounded like 'bloody Irish, I'm telling ya.''

To re-create the Christmas vibe that had been yesterday, December 25th, I was once more victim of the famous flop of Mariah Carey. Bloody. Hell. ''Gah, I hate this song!'' I called out for everyone to know, frustrated how people got so excited every time it was on.

''Yeah, me too,'' Arthur agreed. ''Let's dance.'' He took my arm to direct me to the dance floor, but I struggled an awful lot. ''Come on! Don't –''

''-no!''

''-be such a girl!''

A few minutes later, I found myself screaming the lyrics (which I had never deliberately googled for, to be clear on that one), and pointing at him and he pointing at me at every 'youuuuuu'. Arthur had put his helmet on my head, goggles over my glasses. It probably looked – Í probably looked – fucking ridiculous, but best mates with each other – we didn't make a point of it.

You áre allowed to make points when your best mate suddenly takes your waist with both hands to close the distance between –

''Dang it!'' A loud woman's voice yelled over the music. ''You two were supposed to come to my room, remember?'' She came nearer, pulling faces because her Gucci heels got wet in the slush-puppy snow around the outside bar, then punched us both on the breast with her manicured, red glittery painted nails. ''Can't you ever listen?!''

''I knew,'' said I, ''but I tóld you, I'm not gonna get wasted tonight. Actually, think I'll retire to my –''

''Bleh, you're no fun, Merlin,'' Arthur cut me off. Arthur, who'd jumped when he'd heard Morgana's voice calling us in such an intimate ('cuz how could I label it?) moment.

''You think getting drunk is fun?'' I asked, raising my eyebrows.

Arthur only sighed. ''That's the wrong way to put it, Merrrrlin.''

''Wise words, brother.'' Morgana slung her arms around the both of us and leaded us straight to her room. ''Gwen and Leon are already waiting, FYI.''

''I don't –''

''Hush. I don't want to hear it.''

I had no choice. I was doomed with these we'll-get-you-drunk-even-if-our-lives-depend-on-it-friends.


It had been a normal, particularly sunny day at Oxford University. On campus, Arthur laid on the grass without his T-shirt on – the show-off –, but with a concentrated expression on the face while looking in his history books.

I approached him, shy as I was, the freshman physics, the gangly boy with the... well you know it. Glasses, ears, wide baggy jeans, boring scarf. That day I wore a blue one, that had turned slightly grey/light blue because of all the washing. I fumbled a bit with it, tried to get some fresh air since I was sweating quite a lot. Why the long pants again, I thought. Oh yes, the white, skinny, black-haired legs. Forgot about that one. Compared to Pendragon's... and yes, there we went again.

He saw me walking towards him in small steps, unsecure if he did mind to be interrupted in his revising, but he'd already put the books down. ''Heya!'' his white teeth showed, ''how's my roommate doing?''

I swallowed, faked a little smile instead to hide the awkward staring that would surely be going on if I didn't constantly remind myself to act normal around him. ''Uh, good. How's your learning coming along?''

Arthur let out a desperate sigh. ''Terrific. Father will be pleased with this bad grade.''

''Oh, damn your – ''

''Merrrrlin.''

''What?'' Oh, right. ''Sorry.'' No bad word about his father. Ever.

''S'okay. Now –'' He moved a bit and patted the grass next to him. ''If you'd care to help a frustrated friend out, be my guest.''

I was glad, felt happy because of his attention towards me and me alone, for there were no souls except for him and me on this part of the campus. I ended up asking Arthur dates and years, whereupon he had to name the events that had taken place then. ''I hate this,'' he kept repeating after every single one of my questions. ''I know it's somewhere inside of here...'' he ticked with his finger on his head and I replied with a teasing ''but...?''

''I don't know it. Just say the answer.'' That's how we continued for about an hour, after which we really needed to lie down and chill for a bit. ''Why can't we just talk about Arthur and the knights of the round table?'' he continued.

''Yes, you're good at that.'' I was considered a bookworm by many, but no one owned and had read as many books about king Arthur as Arthur himself. He was an expert.

He put his hands under his head, fantasizing while looking at the blue, cloudless sky. ''Imagine the battle at Camlann, Merlin, where you save the day with your magic powers and pretend like it's nothing? Do you remember that? And I stand there, completely in awe/shock – however you want to name it – not noticing Mordred creeps up from behind me and BAM! Stabs me! And –''

''Arthur.''

His head turned. ''Yeah?''

''You're doing it again. Making us the Arthur and Merlin from the legends.''

''Sorry. But seriously, what if it's destiny that you and I met? I mean, we got the names – maybe we're reincarnated!''

I loved his passion, but some things... nah. It would be unreal, honestly. ''I don't believe in that,'' I said back. ''Besides, I don't have magic powers, so forget it, not gonna happen.''

''But what if?!'' Arthur propped himself up on one elbow. ''I mean, you do study physics... making things explode or change colour. And the love potions, what about those?'' He stuck out his tongue and I gave him a slap on the shoulder, feeling personally offended or at least pretending to feel that way. ''Shut up! I don't –''

''I bet you made this apple poisoned too with your physics talents.'' Arthur took the red piece of fruit from my bag and took a bite without asking, played like he fell down, suffocating. He held his neck in pain and cried out: ''Poor me! Only a true lover's kiss can save me now!''

''Don't be ridiculous, you prat!'' said I when he closed his eyes and re-acted the tale of Snow White. ''Get up, you! Come on!''

Arthur peeked through his eyelids and whispered quietly: ''Ugh, I'm dead. Just like king Arthur,'' before closing his eyes completely. ''You killed me, Merlin.''

I sat there, not knowing what to do, so after quick consideration and looking around the area for unwanted 'visitors', I totally ruined everything by pressing my lips upon his, hasty, hurried, rushed. And very shortly, for his eyes widened and he spluttered: ''Merlin, what... what are you doing?!''

This and this alone was the reason I had to drink when Gwen exclaimed: ''I have never ever been slapped after kissing someone!'' It felt bloody awkward, being the only one to pick up the shot of vodka. Morgana, the smart one in this company, immediately called out: ''Arthur, you look as red as a lighthouse! Something you want to share with us...?'' She cast longing looks on the both of us, made me shift uncomfortable on the carpet that laid in her luxurious hotel room. Two others also looked expectantly at us, but Arthur, thank god, waved it away, muttering he hated this game and would rather have a Power Hour, in which everyone had to drink his expensive white beer every minute for an hour long. I already felt light in the head by just the thought of it.

Luckily, Gwen was with me on that one. She giggled, a light red across the cheeks: ''I will be completely knocked out for dáys if we do that!''

''There are more games,'' Morgana informed, ''what do you guys think of beer pong, flip, sip or strip'', never, I thought, ''tic tac toe, my special drinking dices or simply the drinking roulette?'' I only wanted to get out of the heavy smoke of Leon and Morgana's cigarettes. I excused myself (swore I wasn't secretly trying to escape from the room to calm them down) and went to search for a balcony. I opened the door and inhaled the fresh air through my nose. Now I was here, I let myself think about Arthur – about his red cheeks. It was clear he remembered it. But were it back then, those few years ago, anger and fear, those were replaced by shame this present day.

A click behind me. ''Hey,'' he murmured, ''mind if I join?''

''Did you tell Gwen about it?'' I snapped, and I wasn't sure where that irritated comment came from.

''What are you on about? No, of course not!''

I watched him carefully. ''Because if you did and she deliberately asked that question to humiliate me, then –''

''-really doesn't sound like the Gwen I know at all.'' Arthur sighed, pulled out a chair from under the plastic table to sit upon. ''Look, Merlin, that Gwen and I were in a relationship back then doesn't mean I told her every little thing that bothered me.''

Like I said, this reaction was totally due to the alcohol. I was good at keeping my mouth shut, but after a few drinks, things could get messy. We'd both agreed soon after the kiss that it was a mistake, but I needed to talk about it now, at this particular time and place because it felt like I couldn't breath if I didn't. So I said: ''It bothered you. Ah, I see. Thanks, Arthur.''

That person frowned. ''Yes!'' he said back, ''No! I mean, I was confused.'' He opened the bottle of whiskey he'd brought with him and took a large gulp. ''Good confused, I guess, because it made me make up my mind... but back then I was just shocked.''

''Well, you were a bit gagging for it, weren't you?'' I took my glasses off to study them, unable to look at Arthur himself. ''With your Snow White stuff.''

''It all sounds so ridiculous now... but I didn't think you would dare...''

''Dare?! Are you going to say Gwaine or one of your other 'knights', as you call them, gave you money for it?!''

''Shh! And NO! Merlin – calm yourself – now.''

All at once, I felt so tired I let myself fall in the chair beside him.

''You know,'' Arthur whispered, ''you could've said this before. You've walked around with it all this time... so I see now. I know we'd agreed not to talk about it, but you could talk about it... with me.'' He offered me the bottle of whiskey, oh, the helpful friend act, but I took it anyways. I looked into the darkness, head light and all of a sudden, empty. I played some more with the legs of my glasses. Meanwhile, I felt Arthur gazing at me, and the hairs on my arms raised – or was that the cold? Then, out of nowhere the apology I'd never gotten before: ''I'm sorry for hitting you. I really am. That wasn't right.''

''...''

''I hope you realise the reason I found out I prefer man – in other words, even though I dislike the word: I am gay – is you.''

I blinked, swallowed hard at this, and dared to turn towards him. ''What are you saying? But I thought... I thought... Sophia, Vivian, Elena... when?''

''Since that time you'd gotten so wasted and had fallen on the sofa because even the bed was too far away for you. And then you said my name in your sleep.''

My head was spinning. Sofa, sofa – the beginning of the new school year, from this year. Arthur had never... ''Why have you never told me this before? You could have told me – you should have told me, goddammit! Does also anyone know?!''

''That you talk in your sleep – no.'' He grinned.

''Not funny.''

Arthur closed his eyes, rubbed his temples with his hands. ''Only you. I'm fucked, aren't I?''

''Not even your father? Or Morgana?!''

''You know how my father is –''

''Damn your –''

Arthur shoved back his chair in anger. ''Merlin! Fuck, do you even know how weird this is for me?''

I pushed myself out of my own chair. ''Yes! I do know, actually! What Í would like to know, is when you were planning to tell!''

''I thought you'd figured it out already and that there was no need for telling!''

''NO!'' I yelled, ''otherwise I would've allowed myself to flirt with you – to maybe try and kiss you even though I would risk being slapped again!''

Arthur winced: ''I wouldn't slap you. Never again.'' It was a whisper, a few words, but more than the apology before. My stomach gave me, unwillingly, a shot of tingly feelings, that I tried to ignore by drinking more from the bottle, sipping quietly and trying to catch my breath. Arthur unexpectedly closed the distance between us. ''Sorry for being a prick yet again.''

''Sorry for screaming. I'm not usually very annoyed with anyone... except with Morgana when she wants me to be her gay best friend.''

He showed a crooked smile. ''Well, you had the right to scream.''

It was quiet again and I could hear muffled voices from inside and now that neither of us was talking (or screaming), we were touching. Arthur's thumb formed circles against my hand, slowly going up and down, making patterns on my skin – it tickled and made my hands go clammy, but it was not entirely unpleasant.

When we went inside, a sleeping Morgana and Gwen shared the gigantic bed and Leon was probably deep in sleep and snoring on his own bed a few rooms further. Curious thing, time.


''This orange juice makes me want to puke,'' Morgana complained, ''and the apple juice isn't much better.''

''Get coffee then,'' I suggested. We were having breakfast downstairs with Gwen. Leon and Arthur were going to snowboard together, so they'd established yesterday morning. Therefore it was a surprise to see Arthur downstairs so late in the morning. Arthur always liked to sleep until terribly late, but when it came to stunting in the snow, he'd get up as soon as the sun started to rise.

''Morrrning,'' he said, an innocent, secret wink only for Merlin to see and blush at, ''plans have changed.''

''Wow, do I see a ghost?'' Gwen joked, ''you sure can eat with us, but me and Merlin are like turtles on ski's so you'd better dump us after breakfast.''

''Ah,'' Arthur answered, ''turtles. My favourite animals.''

I rolled my eyes. ''Someone got an extra croissant? Make the fool shut up, will you?'' Arthur kicked me from under the table. I didn't draw any conclusions on purpose, but it was hard not to when he didn't move his foot back after.

''Where's Leon?'' Morgana asked after some laughter.

''He's a sleepy head,'' Arthur said. ''What did you give him last night? It looks like he's in a coma!''

Gwen confessed: ''We played tic tac toe shots and Morgana had found out about that strategy with which you always win you know... Leon was doomed.''

Arthur threw his head back, laughing: ''The poor fellow!''

I tried to ignore the tingly feelings his laugh gave me and ate my bread roll with marmalade. Dang it, marmalade. This wasn't helping at all.

Gwen nudged me on the way to the ski deposit. ''Do you know that guy, Merlin?'' She made a little gesture with her head to my left side. I noticed a black-haired young man with light eyes.

''No,'' I said, ''I've never seen him before.''

''He kept looking at us,'' she went further, ''it was freaking me out a little bit.''

I got hold of her hand and comforted her with a few simple words: ''Don't worry about it. You cannot avoid creepers – wherever you are.''

''You're probably right.'' She relaxed instantly and stopped looking suspiciously at the guy with the weirdest smile around the lips.

''Maybe he's just working up the nerve to ask you out?'' I proposed, which lead to a look that could've killed me mercilessly.

The way up to the glacier (Glacier 3000) in the ski cabin for six persons, was a nightmare. The weather was bad: heavy snowfall and rough winds lead to the worst sight in history and, no kidding, a warning had been given out. I'd have been happy to stay in the warm hotel with Leon, and the others if they wanted to, but that gave Arthur a feeling as if he was losing (because showing you were a die-hard and went on the slopes with this weather was enormously badass). ''It's not a competition,'' I protested, but for him it was.

Morgana sat beside me with her expensive Apex ski boots, looking into a small mirror to check upon her lipstick-red lips. ''Still good to go,'' she murmured pleased to herself.

''As if there's also just one living person on that mountain who you have to look good for,'' I grumbled. ''Let's go back as soon as we're at the station and celebrate the Third day of Christmas in the hot tub, okay?''

Arthur shook his head. ''You really are made of sugar cubes, Merlin,'' then announced with his most cheerful voice, ''we're there! Put on your happy faces, this is going to be fun!''

One by one we shuffled out of the cabin, while a green-looking Gwen added: ''And please stick to the blue ones, dear friends.''

Minutes of encouraging myself later, I simply gave up and accepted that there was no way I would be able to ski off this mountain in a relaxed kind of way. Slowly, I let my ski's take a ride with me. Do nothing, only when you turn, was my technique. I remembered Morgana's words when she'd learned me the basics: ''Keep the pressure on those ski's, keep that pressure. Lean towards the mountain, not the valley.'' Keep calm and carry on.

Arthur stayed close to me, even though I knew he could do much better – even though I knew he already could have gone off this slope a five times. So I tried my best for him, Arthur, my best – and apparently – gay friend. He was so stupid, but in a good way. What yesterday exactly was, I still hadn't figured out. Everything was becoming a bit of a blur, some kind of dream/nightmare... not something that was, in fact, real. I didn't want to think about it any longer or analyse sentences or words – because things like that could always be interpret in the wrong way, turning out to be something completely different than was meant originally.

Losing attention by this sudden train of thought, I forgot to hold my ski's parallel and lost my grip on the snow. I felt myself falling forwards, and it hurt, it hurt so incredibly much. I screamed, felt the knee ligaments of my left leg starting to tear. Something was wrong – why didn't my boots separate themselves from my ski's? Why? How could this be happening?

I closed my eyes because pain like this, which I had never experienced before and hoped to never experience again, was unbearable.

Arthur let out a yell when he saw me laying in the snow, lifeless, but it sounded to me like he was miles away. It still was painful to hear for it meant things were happening that were entirely wrong, but my mind decided to give up and make everything go as black as a starless night.


When I blinked, the stars were so bright, it felt as if I was turning blind. It was white around me, soft. Snow. I made an angel.


The second time I woke up, my eyes had adjusted to the whiteness of the... room?

''Where... am I?'' My throat was dry, and it hurt. Everything hurt all at once, felt strained.

A warm hand slipped into mine, carefully. It tried to avoid the wires that went in and out of my pale, cold skin. ''Merlin? Thank god. Thank god.'' The whisper contained a relieved tone. More than relieved, even.

Another voice. A soothing, woman's voice, that talked to me: ''Don't work yourself up, sweetheart. You're in the hospital.''

''My... knee?''

''Yes... Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry!'' She crossed the room, from her chair to my bed and from this distance I could make out her face, but without the usual added make-up, which meant something was very wrong with Morgana. With me. She looked like she hadn't taken a proper nap for days, but she was smiling comfortingly: ''How are you feeling?''

I closed my eyes – was this really happening? I'd never go skiing again, mum would kill me if I did, and this had only been the very first time. Maybe I'd never be able to ski again, let alone walk. ''Where's mum?''

The person who was holding my hand, stroked my palm with his thumb. ''On her way, don't you worry.''

''Stay with him, Arthur, I'll go and tell Gwen and Leon he's talking.'' Heels clicked away on stone. Click, click, click. My forehead thumped harder with every single click – until it gave up noticing the sound and I drifted away in a restless sleep.


I'd been sleeping for two hours, Arthur had said. Meanwhile, a lot had happened. My mother had arrived and given me kisses over my whole face, sweet and caring and a bit pitying. My ski's turned out to have been sabotaged by a boy named Mordred. ''The creepy guy from breakfast,'' Gwen informed me, and Arthur cried. Arthur never cried, so I asked why. ''Because he confessed he thought I skied and those were mine... It should have been me, Merlin, not you.'' He covered his face in his hands, and I reached out to touch him, but he shrugged my hand away. I let him be.

Morgana stormed in, just back from the interrogation that had found place at the police station in Montreux. She was furious. ''The little shit tried to make me the guilty one! Said I'd paid him to sabotage the ski's! I'm not stupid, I know well enough my brother snowboards, thanks a bloody lot!'' She stormed off to 'cool down' outside. I was tired – Gwen got everyone to leave the room. Just Arthur remained, told the others he wanted to say something to me. He wiped his tears away, was still red-eyed, but determined too to do his talk without tearing up again.

''What if it's true?'' I said it before I knew it, and the whole thought that came up in my head made it hard to breath. ''This reincarnated stuff... Mordred as your doom...?'' I asked.

Arthur's eyes flew around in its orbits and his face expression was alarmed, panicked. He bit his bottom lip hard.

''Do you know him?'' I asked. ''Mordred, I mean.''

Arthur took a deep breath, than began talking about his history with the boy: "He's been threatening me via e-mail for a few months, Merlin. Said I couldn't escape my fate and such. I thought 'this is some kind of psycho kid who blackmails every Arthur in the universe', but... but that he was so serious about it, so much that he booked the same trip as us – which I honestly didn't know, I swear Merlin, I didn't see him and you háve to believe me on this – it scares me.''

I took it all in, slowly, then put up a weak smile. ''He really didn't do his research that well after all, did he? Common fact you don't ski.''

''Don't joke about this, please.'' He looked at the ground. ''I get quite scared these days just thinking about the possibility of being reincarnated. That fall you made Merlin, the heavy blow you took to the head, your knee totally ruined – it would have been fatal for every other. Unless you're not just somebody.'' He shuffled with his feet. ''What can I say, Merlin? I think it's magical you're still here. And I couldn't... I couldn't bear to lose you, not now, not ever.''

I lay silently, let my ears fill with his honest words. Could it be true? Words laid on the tip of my tongue, but each time I opened my mouth, nothing came out.

Arthur saw me trying, but stopped me by laying his finger on my lips. ''You don't have to say anything, but I have a confession to make.''

My heart beated as fast as the wings of a hummingbird, inhumanly fast. Then, the words filled the room: ''You're my turning page, Merlin.''

I blinked a few times, confused. ''What do you mean?''

''I know you have the Breaking Dawn Soundtrack on your mobile.'' He both smirked and showed a genuine smile, and thereafter looked me in the eyes with his own blue ones, pressed a kiss upon my forehead, murmured: ''Take a good listen, aye? For me.''

I nodded.

His lips curled up at the small movement of my face. ''I'll be back tomorrow,'' he said. ''Take some sleep.'' I saw he didn't want to leave my hospital bed and cast a look on the wires that went in my skin, blaming himself again for my state, which was unfair. His hand lingered upon my cheek for a few long seconds before he got up to his feet, slung the backpack over his shoulder and left.

The first line already turned me into a gigantic pudding.

''I've waited a hundred years, but I'd wait a million more for you.''

The rest didn't exactly help either.

''If I had only felt the warmth within your touch, if I had only seen how you smile when you blush, or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough,

I would have known, what I was living for all along. What I've been living for.''

From that part on, I held my phone closer to my chest, clung to it as if my life depended on it.

''If I had only felt how it feels to be yours... Well, I would have known what I've been living for all along.''

At the end of the song, when the last sentence played and I heard the word 'kingdoms', tears were streaming down my face. My whole face was wet, and mum asked what was wrong but I asked her to leave and no I didn't want a cookie, I just wanted to cry some more. I cried myself asleep – even though you should know it were tears from happiness – and dreamt of red and gold and Arthur, shining in his armour, silver helmet on his golden locks.


It was too early in the morning for a panic attack. Still, I had one when I couldn't find my phone. I woke my mother in the process of searching when I shoved a teacup of the table beside my bed. ''Where is it?'' I muttered, ''where is it?''

She raced towards me. ''Relax, sweetheart, watch out for your leg.'' She felt my forehead. ''What's the matter?'' she asked me. ''Can I help you?''

''My mobile, mum? Where is it? I need it.''

''Oh,'' my mother said and opened a la near the bed. ''Here you go, my Merlin. You fell asleep with your earplugs in and the music was still playing, so I put it out.''

I smiled at her. ''Thanks, mum. And um, it means a lot you're here in Switzerland for me.''

She sat on the edge of my bed and stroked the hair on my sweaty forehead out of my eyes. ''You can always count on me. Now, listen, Merlin, I will be in Montreux this evening. But the nurses here are really nice so they will be able to help you with all your needs. They even speak English, my little bird.'' She smiled. ''If everything goes as well as it goes now, we'll get you to Ireland next week.''

I listened, nodded.

''I'll get you something to drink now. You look like you need it.'' She stood up, and as soon as she'd left the room, I dialled his number. He didn't sound surprised when he answered it. ''I swear this is telepathy,'' was the first thing he said. ''I've been wanting to call you for hours, but I didn't know whether you were still sleeping or not.''

I didn't know why I asked him this: ''Are you going to snowboard today?''

''I can't,'' Arthur answered, ''weather's too bad. We all haven't skied since the day of your 'accident'. Gwen's grown too afraid and well... it isn't the same without you.''

I blushed, and I think Arthur felt that through the phone.

''How's your leg doing? And your head?'' he asked rather innocent.

I swallowed when I tried to move it, suppressed a groan. ''Hurts bloody much,'' I concluded. ''Even so, the doctors say it's healing unusually fast. But of course I won't be able to walk for a pretty long time... you still there?''

''Yeah, yeah. Good news, though, right?''

''I guess so, yes.'' There was a peaceful silence.

''...it's new year's eve tonight.''

''...I listened to your song.'' We both said it at the same time.

''You first,'' he offered.

''The song, it's beautiful, thank you,'' was all I knew to say.

The simple answer that sounded through the phone was: ''It's how I feel about you.''

I stuttered a bit before I managed a ''I really wish you were here right now''.

''I'll come. I'll always come.''

''But it's no fun here, actually. So, on second thought, you should go out and eat apfelstrudel with 'Sahne' and watch the fireworks tonight.''

''Are you mental? I don't want all of that,'' Arthur replied, ''if you aren't there. I thought I'd made that clear by now.'' I let out a breath and he continued: ''The others are going to watch the Swiss' fireworks, but I'm not, OK? I hope your mum won't mind if I come round this afternoon?''

''She's not here then – she's got to go to the station for further interrogation.''

''Oh, in that case... I'll give you a kiss or two.''

''I'll give you a kiss or three.''

''I'll snog your face off.''

''And I'll hold you to that.'' I laughed and he joined me. It was the best laugh I'd had in days. ''So,'' I said, ''any new year's resolutions yet?'' and I got a 'yes' before I was even finished with my sentence.

''I'm going to tell father that he needs to bugger off and I can live my own life without constantly being judged by his mad eye. And further... starting to tell my friends I'm a gay reincarnated King that's in love with his best mate?''

I licked my lips. ''Sounds like a plan.''

''See you tonight, Merlin,'' it sounded.

''T'night, Arthur.'' A few minutes after I'd hung up, mum got back and handed me a new cup of tea (''Since you broke the other one''). I breathed air in it, thinking.

''What are you smiling about?'' she asked curiously, her eyes trying to see through me. She wouldn't have guessed what it was about even if she was allowed to guess a hundred times. So I only smiled wider, saw it both irritated and amused her, and answered: ''Nothing.''

But you and I both know better.


Thank you for reading! Sorry for my absence lately, things have been busy. I'm glad I got the inspiration to write about this little skitrip before New Year. Everyone, the best wishes, and a happy 2013! :)

xoxo, Nynke

Name of the song: Turning Page by Sleeping at Last. It's truly beautiful. :)