Title: Midsummer Dew

Disclaimer: Merlin is owned by the BBC and other associated parties. I do not make any profit from this story and the plot is purely fiction.

Summary: AU, pre-slash/slash, A/M, Part 3 of the Two Worlds Series. On Litha, the elves and fairies come out to play as magic flourishes.

Warnings: light slash, a little sub-angst (that even a word?)

Pairings: ArthurxMerlin

Author's Note: This idea came about after watching James Cameron's Avatar twice in one week…yeah, I really liked the movie, and I even have the soundtrack which rocks by the way. It's not based off the plot of Avatar, but it made me want to see civilization meeting the wild side of life Merlin style. So here's my version. Enjoy.

xXx

Arthur tapped his foot impatiently, but silently, hoping this meeting would end soon. Yes it was important that he attend since he would be king in the future, but it was Litha and he wanted to get out of here and head to the forest.

Arthur had decided that he must be fated to only meet Merlin on the major holidays. He'd looked for him every chance he could. When he went hunting, on patrol, but the man had disappeared into the shadows of the forest.

After so many futile searches, he'd decided to put his spare time to better use. A few inquiring questions to both Gaius and Geoffrey, the two most scholarly people in Camelot, had rewarded him with not only books, but guides. Although still rusty, he was learning to speak the language of the old religion.

He'd also learned about who Merlin might be. The books had spoken of the Druids. A wild race of humans who lived off the land and in the forests of not only Camelot, but many other forests throughout Albion. They were said to be a magically gifted race, hence their attachment to nature.

So in-between studying, training, council meetings, patrols and all other princely duties besides eating and sleeping, he spent his time planning. If he was fated to meet Merlin tonight, then he planned to have more time to talk with him, even if it killed him.

He gave a mental sigh of relief as the meeting wound down and those attending started to depart to prepare for tonight's festivities. A trope of performers had arrived only days before to entertain the masses of Camelot and the castles stores had been opened to feed the masses on this great holiday. With the mead and wine flowing freely, none would soon be sober enough to miss him for a while.

Bidding his mother and father good evening, he left the room and headed for his rooms where his plans were waiting for him to be collected. Shutting the doors behind him, he walked over to his bed and sat, waiting half an hour for any last minute stragglers to exit the castle.

Oh, there were servants still in the castle, there were shifts tonight to give all a chance to celebrate, but he didn't want to meet one of his knights or his family carrying what he was going to carry. They would ask questions he might not want to answer.

Seeing that it was suitably dark for his plans, he hefted the small, but weighted basket, flung his cloak about himself, and set off, feet quiet as he left the castle, and by shadow, the city. He soon reached his destination, the tree's shadows flowing over him with a welcome coolness.

Now to see if his theory was correct. He had a spot picked out already and he started walking in that direction. A small meadow in the forest, it would be open to the sky. A stream wound through it on its eastern side, and if he was correct, then either Merlin would already be there, or the druid would find him…or he could be wrong and never find the man at all tonight.

Walking steadily, he made good time and was soon walking into the meadow. It was bathed in moonlight, the moon just past full, and though it was breathtaking, there was no one there.

Sighing dejectedly a little, he set the basket down and spread his cloak out somewhere in the middle of the grassy, flower strewn meadow. Setting the basket to the side, he lay back, looking up the stars that were appearing one by one, soaking up the heat of the day that still clung to the ground. It was the middle of summer and the breeze smelled of ripening hay and was warm to the touch.

He didn't know how long he lay there, but he must have dozed off, because he jerked awake as a twig snapped nearby. He jumped into a seated position, looking around, and hand on the hilt of his sword he took with him everywhere.

He was met with smiling blue eyes set in a pale face that was coming closer. Merlin was dressed in nothing but loose breeches that hung low on his hips, his feet bare. He seemed to glow in the moonlight and Arthur couldn't take his eyes away. He was right. He was fated to meet Merlin on these days for some reason.

He didn't care though as the brunette came to a stop in front of him, looking down on the seated prince. "Arthur." He greeted, grinning down at him.

"Merlin. God æfen." He replied smoothly back, smirking at the surprised look that flashed over Merlin's face.

"But you…" He said, sitting down on the other side of the cloak.

"I've been studying up." He admitted. "There are many books in our library that teach the language of the old religion." He said smiling. "So did I say it right?" He questioned.

"Ah, yes…fine."

"Would you like something to eat; I brought some food with me?" He asked, gesturing towards the basket on his right.

"Ah…yes." Arthur nodded and pulled the basket closer. Opening it, he started to pull things out. "You seem to be knowing I come here.I not know you out here." He said, watching the prince move.

Arthur's hands stopped for a second before he continued where he had left off. "I had a theory." He said aloud, turning back with some bread, cheese, and cold ham on a small plate in his hands.

"Theory?" He asked, taking the platter from him.

"Yes, a theory. I've come to the conclusion that I'm fated to meet you out here on the major holidays." He looked up to take in Merlin's expression. He looked confused. "Ostara, Beltaine, and Litha today, seems to prove my point. Each time, I somehow run into you out here." He set his own plate down and took a bit of the cold ham.

"I see." He took a bite of his own ham, face thoughtful as he thought over this. "Maybe we are fated. Fæge."

The word seemed to ring through the warm air, sending a shiver down his spine. It sounded like destiny, ringing true in his hearing and his soul. Shrugging the feeling off, he took another bite of food.

For a while the conversation remained light, Merlin's speech seeming much improved from the last time they had met, though it still was patchy in places. Sometimes Arthur would offer a word to fill the gap in his sentence and Merlin would smile at him, eyes crinkling.

And as Arthur taught him better English, Merlin taught him more of the language of the old religion, pointing to things and saying their names, giving sentences for Arthur to decipher. The night drew on like this until the moon was at its zenith, shining from above and turning all to silver.

Merlin looked up and stopped speaking. "What‒" Merlin shushed him and he fell silent waiting for him to speak.

"Look." His voice seemed to float out of nowhere, a whisper on the wind. Arthur followed his gaze. He felt his eyes go round as he looked up. Lights danced above them, shining all shades of color.

"What are they?" His voice was soft, not wanting to frighten them away.

"Ylfe. Fey folk, elves, sidhe, they have many names. They come tonight because magic is strong now. Just tonight." Merlin scooted back a little, coming to sit next to him. "Watch." His hand reached up and rested easily on the nape of Arthur's neck. He turned slightly and saw his eyes flash golden in the dark.

The hand turned him back to the front as he felt magic tingle through his body. The lights started to slow down in their erratic movements and then he could make them out. Strange looking creatures with long, tapered ears, colored skin and sharp looking teeth, they looked like they would be nasty to cross.

They sat there in silence, watching the fey dance through the air. Only once did one divert from the dance. It came in low and stopped just before Merlin. It seemed to give a stiff formal bow and Merlin lowered his head in return before it sped away to join its brethren.

Arthur turned to look at the strange warlock he was seated next to. His eyes were aglow, though not with magic. A small smile curving his lips as he watched the creatures fly around them, the light they gave off casting his sharp cheekbones in shadow and light alternately.

He couldn't look away, taking in the image of his face. Merlin, as if sensing his gaze, turned to look back at him. Arthur watched a light flush of embarrassment washed over his high cheeks, looking self-conscious.

He was about to say something to the warlock when the man pushed him down onto his back. Something flew by overhead, large and very fast. "They like to joke." He muttered, glaring at the creature that disappeared into the forest shadows. "You okay?" He asked looking down from where he lay half sprawled on top of Arthur.

"Yeah, I'm good." He watched another blush ride up his cheeks as Merlin seemed to realize the position they were in. He went to pull away, but Arthur's hand on his arm stopped him, making him look down in question.

Arthur didn't think about it as he leaned up, bringing himself into Merlin's breathing space, faces inches apart. When Merlin didn't pull away, he pressed his luck, closing the distance between them to press his lips chastely to Merlin's.

He pulled back and watched him, waiting for his reaction. When Merlin just let out a sigh and leaned back down, he couldn't help the mental cheer that went up in his mind. It was soon cut off as the kiss deepened, Merlin forcing him to lie flat as pressed into it.

Arthur wasn't complaining though, running his hands up his arms to run his fingers through sable locks, Merlin own fingers way ahead of him as they threaded through Arthur's own hair in a desperate attempt to pull him closer.

Some minutes went by before they parted, seeking air and space to look at each other. For a moment there was so much to say between them and no words to put to it. So they opted for action instead, coming together again, mouths moving over each other with clicking teeth and seeking tongues.

Eventually though, they had to stop. Arthur's mouth was red and swollen and a little sore, and Merlin was most likely the same. Merlin himself was lying next to him, head on his shoulder as they stared up at the stars.

"It'll be dawn soon." Arthur said, finally breaking the silence that hung between them.

Merlin sat up, looking down at him. "I know." He looked torn, between wanting to stay and having to go.

"Since I know I won't find you later, will you meet me here on Lughnassadh?" He asked, lifting a hand up to trace along those sharp cheekbones.

"I…yes." He finally said after a few seconds hesitation. Arthur smiled up at him and Merlin reciprocated it, even if it was a little bittersweet. He leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips. They tingled slightly and the soreness of them eased. His eyes started to grow heavy, threatening to close any minute. Merlin leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I will come on Lughnassadh." He said softly, just before sleep dragged Arthur under.

The blonde woke the next morning wrapped in his cloak, sunlight just starting to stream into the meadow. He was alone and if he felt a little ache in his chest at Merlin's absence, he ignored it.

Getting up, he picked up the packed basket, it hadn't been that way last night, and trudged his way back to Camelot. They would be looking for him and he didn't want to have to explain his absence in too much detail. His lips still tingled slightly, the only reminder of what had happened last night.

Godæfen- good evening.

Fæge- fated.

Ylfe- elves.

End.