Warnings: Slash
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Arthur of The Most High
The heavens mourned as the Almighty sat within the Council of Gods. He wept, they all wept, as they watched one of their mortal children, destroy all he saw. Like a plague his forces swept the land, leaving nothing but death in its passing.
They sent the ruler visions, pleading him to stop the wars.
'King Arthur, of the house of Pendragon, the son of Uther, and the godson of the Almighty God Constantine,' they plead, 'Halt your sword! Loosen your fist before you destroy all that is man! Is it not enough that ruins now lie, where great cities once stood? Is it not enough that not a virgin had been spared your wrath and heartlessness?'
'I am indeed the son of Uther, of the House of Pendragon,' he would reply with a venomous sneer. 'But it is your fault, Constantine, El of the Gods, that I am, what I am!'
'I am a god, but the stench of mortality runs through my veins like poison, because you lay with a mortal woman! My father was half god, so he now, is dead. That is where I too will be, someday!'
'Do not cower away from your mistake,' he screamed at the divine, 'Great Constantine! Ea of the Most High! El of the Eloheim! It is my right to take what I need, while I am still alive!'
And the Council of the Gods wept.
All, except for the Lady Morgana, the Goddess of Life. She did not lie down and cry for the thousands, the monarch has slaughtered. Instead she descended from the heavens; falling in between the stars and onto the earth; sinking her hand into the dirt.
With one breath, she turned the dust into a mold. She breathed life into the nostrils of the boy now forming in her hands.
'You will be his companion,' she told the pale, naked boy. His all too bright eyes blinked several times, taking in the world like a newborn, for the first time. Power swirled within that gaze, a color that would burn brighter than a thousand suns, a sign of his creator and his origin fresh from the immortal's hands.
'You will show him kindness; you will show him how to live and love; how to accept death.' She held her hands on either side of his cheeks, kissing his forehead. 'I am creating you for him, and you will coerce him, so his hand will bring peace upon the land. Make him a better king! Arthur is for you to protect and love.'
He nodded not in understanding, his mind too freshly formed and soul too new to even grasp the divine plan.
But he agreed nonetheless, watching the goddess lift up into the sky before he stood on his legs. Shakily, he walked towards the great city that sat upon the horizon, a slight shiver running through his bare body as the wind brushed passed. Only the internal rope of destiny, did he follow; a sweet, sweet song that promised him purpose and companionship.
And, companionship he did make.
"How dare you talk to me like that, I am the King!" Arthur spat, brandishing his sword. He didn't know the strange naked youth, nor did he care.
The pale boy blinked in confusion, before dodging the swipe of the blade. With a flash of his eyes, he out moved the royal, his pale hands gently removing the weapon from the King's larger hands.
"You're a prat!" the boy Merlin laughed, before kissing the monarch's forehead in an imitation of the goddess's kiss.
And they fought, as they would occasionally. But, in the end they would always hug each other.
Kiss each other.
Under the moon and watchful eye of the heavens, they made love to one another.
And the ruler finally learned the pleasures of mortality and the wonders of lust and love. With his new found heart, the land flourished with life, green grass growing where only dead weeds once prospered.
And, when the feared time came, the end of the monarch's days...
Arthur and Merlin lay on the bed, side by side, holding each other's hands.
The ruler looked into Merlin's eyes one last time, before they both left this world...
together, hand in hand as they descended in each other's arms to the other side.
