"What's this all about, Arthur?" Merlin asked, glancing around.
The prince had brought him off his path to the inner courtyard and pulled him aside, behind one of the tents in the training grounds. Merlin was worried; twilight was closing in, and he still had a host of chores to perform for Gaius.
"Just shut up and listen, Merlin." Arthur, too, scanned the area.
A few knights and their squires were making their way back in for a late supper. The young mage's stomach rumbled at the thought of food, even the meager dinner he shared with Gaius.
"Alright," Merlin replied hesitantly.
"I'd been thinking," Arthur began.
"That's dangerous," remarked his servant.
"I'm serious, Merlin," the prince snapped, " I can't keep listening to my father," he said.
"What do you mean?" Merlin asked quietly. He was taken aback at this sudden outburst, and he started feverishly recalling the past fortnight; searching his memory for some event or ordeal that might have spurred this on.
"Trying to be me and trying to be the man he wants me to be," the future king explained, " has not worked out for Camelot so far." He reached up and unconciously brushed some of his golden hair from his eyes.
Merlin looked at the ground and shuffled his feet. That Arthur could come to such a realization on his own marked great progress, at least as far as the dragon was concerned. He didn't feel it was his place to say so, however.
"Oh, don't baby me, Merlin," Arthur frowned. "How many times has Camelot been placed in jeopardy because of me? Or because of my ignorance?"
They both pictured the misery Camelot suffered after the slaying of a unicorn whilest on a hunt.
Still, the prince had proven true to his word, and Merlin remembered hearing of his leige lord's worry and self-sacrifice, after it appeared his own death had come to pass.
"Arthur," Merlin protested, seeking to comfort him, " you can't-"
"What I can't do is stand around, waiting for my father to be proud of me. I can't do as he asks, trying to please him. I will rule Camelot one day, and I can't afford to rely on him and his orders." Arthur looked away. "What kind of man would the people see?"
Merlin had no answer to this, either. Instead, he said, "Who do you want them to see?" His blue eyes flicked up to his lord's, humble yet keen beneath his heavy lashes.
Arthur seemed to regard this thoughtfully. "I just want them to approve of my choices." He sighed, his breath turning to a misty vapour in the chilled eveing air.
"Who says they have to approve? I mean, if you know, in your heart, that they're the right ones to make, then..." Merlin trailed off, meeting the prince's eyes.
When Arthur looked back at him, he was certain they weren't solely discussing the fate of Camelot. Something else, something hidden lay beneath this particular topic, and the young warlock was having trouble focusing on the moment; he was preocupied with trying to reason out Arthur's thinking.
"I suppose," was all he said. "Merlin, I may have need of you later. Sleep light."
Then he left. He strode across the grass as though nothing happened, flecks of dew sent scattering in his wake. The scene of a dignified figure, the moonlight playing off his hair, brought some semblance of truth to the image the dragon often conjured in his mind. A noble king, wise and fair, ruling the lands.
"Alright, then," Merlin mumbled, thoroughly confused. He followed behind a few minutes afterwards, so as not to draw attention to their meeting. As Arthur made his way up the main stairs, he ducked into the servants passage, grimmacing at the tasks Gaius would beset him. With any luck, there wouldn't be much, and he would get some hours sleep before his prescence was requested.
Merlin supressed a shiver as he wandered through the cold, dark halls of the castle. The stone was chilled beneath his fingertips as he felt his way along the passage. Twice he had to duck into an alcove to avoid a nightly patrol.
"I may have need of you later," he muttered in mockery of the prince's voice. "Couldn't it wait until the morning?" He peered around the corner, down the hallway. No one in sight.
'Why am I doing this again?' He wondered, only to recall the sharp lines of he blonde man's figure, as if sculpted in glass, his hair aglow beneath the vast scattering of stars across the inky sky.
His sharp jawline, set with determination as he journeyed forth into his future, determined to make his own destiny. Those blue eyes, kind and cruel, like the sea.
Merlin would give anything to know what was going on behind those eyes.
The more he pictured his prince- THE Prince, he reminded himself- the tighter the knot in his stomach became. It wasn't a natural love, and maybe it was only their combined fate that caused him to feel this way, but it was a part of his personal servant's burdens he was willing to bear.
He fell quiet as he reached the young prince's chambers, and knocked softly.
"Come in," a voice said in answer.
"Arthur, it's nearly dawn. Why d'you need me?" Merlin asked, closing the prince's chamber door behind him.
"I need to try something." Arthur sat in the middle of his four-posted bed, and the sheets had barely been disturbed.
"Have you slept yet?" Merlin asked, raising a brow. A knot of worry began to form in the pit of his stomach instead, and he took a tentative step forward.
"Whatever happens, you will not speak of this to anyone. At all. Is that understood, Merlin?" Arthur demanded, wide-eyed and serious.
"Alright," Merlin answered, nodding and approaching the prince carefully.
"I mean it, Merlin," he hissed, "Not a soul."
Merlin looked his lord in the eye. "You have my word, Arthur."
"Good." That seemed to placate him, and the blonde gestured for his servant to sit opposite him on his bed.
Merlin tried to remain unperturbed. Arthur seemed entirely too stressed, and the shadows beneath his eyes were a stark purple, standing out against his fair complexion.
"Merlin, just sit there. And close your eyes. Don't move. That's all. Just stay still, and close your eyes," Arthur commanded.
"Yes, sire," Merlin responded, leaving his hands in his lap. He let his eyelids slide shut, and took a deep breath.
And then, Merlin felt the soft, unsure pressure of Arthur's lips against his own. He could feel the blood rushing to his face, and instinct drove him to kiss back. He wasn't sure if Arthur had hoped for self restraint, but he couldn't have been dissappointed; the prince deepened the kiss, and a hand rose up to cup Merlin's jaw. Arthur's fingers quickly traveled into his hair, but they rested there, gently. Merlin, however, felt the need to rush onwards, blindly, and damn the consequences. He leaned into the kiss, and drew in a gasp of air. The blonde's tongue slipped into his mouth then, and he stifled a moan. After what seemed to be a moment too long to recount, Arthur pulled away. Merlin didn't dare open his eyes, and his knuckles whitened with the effort of curling his fingers tightly into themselves.
In the breath before Arthur spoke, Merlin could only be astonished as he realized how much he had wanted to embrace the prince, to wrap his arms around Arthur's frame and hold him close. Possibly even persue a course of action typically reserved for women, but then, the crushing ache of having to bear yet another secret under the King's nose hit him as well.
He would then be a sorcerer in a land that fears, hates and expels magic, harbouring a forbidden type of love for someone he could clearly and above all else never truly be with.
Why, then, was his heart so determined not to care?
"Merlin? Merlin!" Arthur hissed, and the warlock's eyes snapped open.
"Y-yes, sire?"
"That will be all," Arthur said stiffly, and began to tuck himself into bed.
"Of course, sire," Merlin responded automatically, earning him a grin from the prince. He made short work of the covers and ensured Arthur's comfort before making his way to the door.
"Merlin," Arthur called out once more.
"Yes?" He replied, turning.
"You know we can't tell anyone of this either," he said softly.
"I know," Merlin answered, his eyes not quite focusing on anything. "Goodnight, Arthur," he said finally, and left the room.
'Perhaps,' he thought, 'someday there won't be a need for secrets like this. We could all just be who we want to, in a world that doesn't care. Love will be true, absolute, and irrefutable.'
Until then, he could only close his eyes and imagine it instead. Along with a few other visions; he had the feeling Arthur would be requiring his services later in the evenings from now on.