Author's Note: Happy Valentine's Day! Here's a little something to celebrate the occasion with! Another title could I guess be "Language of Flowers" but I felt that the one I gave it was better. It's pretty self explanatory, so not much else to say up here except I hope you enjoy, and feel free to leave a fav or a review if you liked it!

:=/=:

It was one of Merlin's rare moments of severe, supreme, ridiculous sentimentality.

Or, perhaps more accurately, insanity.

Arthur had been looking down for the past couple days- Merlin didn't know why (nothing magical, he checked about 67 times) but what he did know is he had to do something about it.

So, he set off into the forest early one morning in order to get some flowers.

He had always loved the morning- the pale light shining through the mist, the grass wet beneath his toes (he hadn't bothered to put on shoes today). He knew of a grove of flowers where Gwen always went to freshen up Morgana's room, or just to relax. A shortcut led up a small ridge and around, which looked like easier terrain. Merlin decided to follow it.

Absorbed in the atmosphere, the warlock didn't pay attention when his arm swung into something which crunched under his elbow. He whipped around, curious, only to find that a buzzing, yellow mass of wasps had emerged from a now-obliterated paper nest.

"Ooh dear." he breathed before tearing off towards the clearing, the swarm buzzing behind him. Eventually, he reached it, but not wholly unscathed. Stings littered his arms and bits of his neck and sternum where his neckerchief had slipped off.

The clearing itself was beautiful- a grassy knoll on the top of a hill, encircled by trees and overlooking the kingdom. The flowers themselves sparkled in sunlight, and the trees cast flickering shadows onto everything. He didn't have time to wholly appreciate it, though, as he was on a time limit, wanting to reach Arthur before he woke up, and he needed to get those stings attended to.

His top half seething with pain, he only picked the bare minimum of flowers to be acceptable-but even that was hard in itself. They had to be perfect- no split leaves or withered stems, no petals falling away. Just perfect. His magic helped with that, of course, and he made sure that they would last quite a good deal longer than they would normally. Hissing with each step, he walked out of the clearing and took the long way around.

Remarkably, he was just in time to walk by the kitchens and grab the Prince's breakfast (thankfully a light one today- Merlin couldn't think he could handle the usual heft with his compromised arms) and snag a vase to put the flowers in. Not bothering to knock, he walked into the chambers and threw open the curtains.

"Come on then, let's have you, lazy daisy," Merlin said with a smile. Arthur turned over and groaned.

"Go 'way, 's too early..." Arthur at least had the courtesy of turning over to face Merlin as he was mumbling at him, but his eyes bulged when he saw the vase of daisies, pink, yellow and peach roses (to represent friendship and sympathy- Merlin didn't quite know how he remembered that tidbit), buttercups, lilies and violets resting on his bedside table. "What's all this?"

Merlin turned a light shade of pink and turned away, tugging at his handkerchief. He was at a loss for what to do-he decided to bluff.

"Um. Gwen b-brought them in, she was worri-"'

"And what the bloody hell happened to your arms? They're the size of logs!"

Merlin looked down guiltily.

"Erm, well, I-"

Arthur blinked, before his face twisted into a smile. An honest one, the first one in a while.

"You brought the flowers, didn't you?"

"A-ah..."

Arthur's smile grew wider.

"And you got yourself stung by a horde of angry wasps trying to get to them. You really are a sentimental imbecile, aren't you, Merlin?"

Merlin ducked his head.

"Probably." he muttered.

Arthur laughed.

"You absolute idiot." he said with a grin as he reached for them. "They smell lovely, even if they were picked by a completely idiotic manservant. Come on, let's get you to Gaius."

"What are we going to tell him?" Merlin asked, glad that their bantering relationship had returned.

"That you were being a twit like always." Arthur said with a smile. Merlin grinned.

"It's my job, being your twit manservant." he replied.

Arthur slung an arm over his shoulders.

"Yes, my twit." he said quietly, and smiled warmly at Merlin.

Merlin smiled back, even more pink twinkling over his cheeks.

(Arthur must have seen the single red rose- love.)