A/N: For the purposes of this one, Arthur and Guinevere know about Merlin's magic, so that's why it's marked AU. I didn't like him deceiving them. This is meant to take place during season 4, but since It's AU, I've decided the mess with Shade!Lancelot doesn't happen.

This is getting ridiculous, Merlin thinks, watching Arthur and Guinevere in the courtyard, shyly flirting. I know she'll never say it without him saying it first, and he's too... skittish to say it.

"Merlin, what are you plotting over there?" Gaius' gravelly voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

"Hmm? Plotting? Who's plotting?" Merlin innocently replies.

Gaius simply raises a bushy eyebrow. "I know that look. Whenever you get that look, you're concocting some scheme, usually meddling into something about which you have no business."

"Me? Pssh. Never. I nev—" His protests stop in the face of his guardian's steely glare. "Arthur and Gwen," he simply says.

"Leave them be, Merlin. They will figure it out on their own. Love has a way of finding its way through, you know," Gaius advises.

"No, actually, I don't," Merlin snaps, a little more bitterly than he intended. "Sorry."

Gaius places a gentle hand on the young warlock's shoulder, understanding the young man's response. He softens his tone. "Don't get involved. Uther has only been gone a short time; you cannot expect Arthur to immediately marry a servant. He must first prove to his people he is a worthy leader and gain the full measure of their trust. Only then can he make such a bold move."

"I know that," Merlin says. "I'm just tired of watching them... dance around one another. He loves her. She loves him. They just need to say it..."

"Why is this any of your concern?" Gaius asks. "I realize you consider them both friends and want nothing more than for them to be happy, but—"

"That's exactly it, Gaius," Merlin says. "Arthur mopes around when he doesn't get to see her. Gwen watches him longingly when she cannot be near him. If that's happiness, I'm a cockatrice."

Gaius chuckles, shaking his head. "Leave them be, Merlin," he repeats. "And go fetch the delivery that just arrived for me," he adds, waving his hand.

xXx

Merlin gazes down into the jug of wine in his hands. Arthur is having a private dinner in his quarters with Gwen tonight. Merlin is to set everything up, then leave. He looks again at the wine and whispers a word, his eyes flashing gold. Then, he pours a measure into each of their goblets.

Arthur walks in, inspects the table, and nods. "Thank you, Merlin. You may go," he says.

"Yes, Sire," Merlin answers. He meets Guinevere in the doorway. "Enjoy your dinner," he says.

"Thank you, Merlin," she says, giving her friend a smile. She walks inside, and Merlin closes the door behind her.

He sits on a bench in the corridor, taking up his post to fend off anyone looking for Arthur. "Enchant the corridor if you need to, I don't care," the King had said with a dismissive wave. "You know I don't wish to be disturbed. Guinevere and I get so little time alone." Merlin had to stop himself from reminding Arthur that he could easily remedy that situation. It didn't go well last time he made such a comment.

Merlin keeps his ears on the conversation happening in the royal chambers, planning to stop listening after he's gotten confirmation his spell worked.

"Guinevere, you look lovely," Arthur says, holding his hand out to her. She places her hand in his and he lifts it to his lips.

"Thank you, Arthur," she answers with a demure smile.

"Please, sit." He guides her to her seat; pulling the chair out from the table and sliding it back in for her once she's seated.

The conversation starts out rather light and superficial, discussing events of the day, the weather, the quality of the meal. Merlin can hear the clink of cutlery on the plates and the light thunk of the goblets as they are set back onto the table. A pair of guards stroll past on patrol, and he nods at them.

"I do intend to marry you, Guinevere." The words take Arthur as much by surprise as Guinevere. His eyes widen, and he blinks a few times. He looks left, then right. "I don't know where that came from," he says, then hastily adds, "I mean, it's the truth, but I have no idea why I just said it."

"Um... thank you for telling me, Arthur... to be honest, I was beginning to wonder," she answers. She presses her lips together, embarrassed by letting her uncertainty show. "I'm sorry. I know you said things would be different... I shouldn't doubt you..."

"No, you're right. I mean, you're not right to doubt me," he quickly says, almost stumbling over his words in his haste to get them out correctly. "I meant those words. But if I were you, I'd be starting to wonder, too, because I haven't exactly been forthcoming on the matter." He quickly lifts his goblet to his lips, deciding to occupy his mouth with a drink of wine to keep it from talking.

"You're still trying to get settled at being king, and I guess it's natural that I might get pushed to the side. I understand," she says. "I can't say I enjoy it, but I understand." She gasps lightly, her cheeks coloring. "I'm sorry," she apologizes again, quickly reaching for a hunk of bread and popping it in her mouth.

"I'm afraid," Arthur suddenly says. "I'm afraid of... everything. I'm afraid I'm not doing a good job as king. I'm afraid the people will think I'm just like my father. I'm afraid... constantly afraid of doing the wrong thing, making the wrong decision..."

"Are you afraid that marrying me is the wrong decision, that the people... or the council will turn on you if you make such a bold move?" Guinevere asks. She shakes her head. "I should not ask such questions. You don't need to ans—"

"My feelings for you are the only things of which I am completely certain," Arthur says, interrupting her because she looks like she is getting upset. "I love you, Guinevere. Sometimes I think that's the only thing I know." He searches her face, waiting for her reaction.

"Oh, Arthur, I love you, too," she answers, her worried expression melting into one that is soft and sweet. "And I am willing to wait as long as it takes," she says. "As long as I have your promise that it will happen."

Arthur reaches for her hand, and she gives it immediately. "There's something I've always wanted to do," he says, gently tugging her hand until she understands his intent. She stands and comes towards him, settling onto his lap.

"You've always wanted to do this?" she asks, amused that his aspirations are so... adorable.

He wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer. "Yes," he says. "I've always wanted to hold you in my arms, on my lap," he reaches up and caresses her cheek, tilting her face nearer to his, "and..." He kisses her, deeply, boldly, and with much more passion than he has in the past.

Guinevere sighs into the kiss, making a small noise in the back of her throat, kissing him back, matching his enthusiasm with her own. Her hand strays into his hair and he groans.

"Mmm," he hums, leaving her lips to kiss down the column of her neck, wet, open-mouthed kisses that leave her skin tingling and her body weak.

"Oh, Arthur, I want you so much," the words fall from her mouth in a breathy whisper.

She immediately stiffens, and he lifts his head.

His eyes are dazed, pupils blown wide with desire as he stares up into her shocked face.

"I… um… oh dear…" she stammers, furrowing her brows. Her cheeks feel like they are on fire. A lady should not say something like that. "Arthur, I don't know why I just…"

Arthur blinks, pecks her lips once, and says, "I liked hearing it. I want you, too, Guinevere." A moment later he says, "That's not what I was planning to say. Again, it's true, but… I mean no disrespect… I certainly don't wish to compromise your honor in any way…" He trails off, thinking.

"Something is making us speak our innermost thoughts," Guinevere suggests. "We both have said things tonight we would not normally speak aloud…"

Arthur's eyes narrow, and he looks towards the door. "Merlin!"

Merlin, who stopped listening after Guinevere told Arthur she would wait as long as it took, jolts into alertness and, heart pounding, goes to the door.

"Yes, my lord?" he asks, speaking into the crack between the doors.

"Inside," Arthur's voice beckons. Guinevere makes to move from his lap, but he holds her there, not yet ready to let her go.

"Sire?" Merlin asks, attempting to appear innocent.

"Have some dinner," Arthur says, extending his hand in invitation. His tone is cordial, but his face is stony.

Guinevere points her face elsewhere, still somewhat embarrassed and not wishing to interfere.

"My lord, I…"

"Was it the food or the wine?" Arthur asks.

Merlin sighs. "The wine," he admits. "I was only—"

"Trying to help, yes." Arthur reaches over and pushes his goblet towards the servant. "Drink."

"Arthur, I…"

"Drink."