Chapter four:

A/N: Please, if you like this, take a second to tell me. I really like this chapter, and I have about 3/4ths of the next one written out. I've never had reviews come in so far and few between, perhaps fandom has changed in my absence or this story isn't up to my old par. Let me know what you think! I really appreciate the reviews I've gotten so far.

..XxXxX..

Gwen never smiled at Arthur as she used to. Her expression seemed as if she were weighing him now, and sometimes he would catch her staring at his profile, brow furrowed, as if she were trying to figure him out. After their time together, it felt odd to Arthur that he believed she really didn't know parts of him at all. And though it struck him as unusual, he was glad of it when she began to just speak to him again.

He had missed her. It was nice to see her in the friendly light he had been unable to during the time she had kept a distance or even those long months of guilt prior to that. Arthur was content to have her back in this facet.

Merlin always seemed to turn up when Arthur would walk the castle speaking with her as they used to, Arthur supposed Merlin had missed her too as she had kept away from Merlin at the same time as she had put distance between Arthur and herself. That was it, Merlin must miss his friend.

He did have a reason to pull Arthur away with him quite a lot after turning up out of nowhere, though, and normally not a very good one. Arthur was often glad to be removed from Gwen's presence before she could find whatever she was searching for in his face.

And if Arthur would not go with Merlin, they would end up being prattish toward each other to the point that Gwen would often roll her eyes with a worn smile and excuse herself from the "arguments of boys".

Arthur would apologize even as he continued to argue or bully, knowing Merlin brought out the worst in him.

..XxXxX..

Arthur knew now why he had stayed with Gwen for so long, beyond image and beyond doubt of his own feelings. Sometimes it had been good. And those good moments, those moments were he didn't remind himself he was hurting her and just enjoyed that space of time, made it easier to ignore the fracture between them.

Sometimes he felt he lived in little moments, all of the work of being King Arthur someone else entirely pulling his body this way and that like a puppet. His little moments now were just as enjoyable, spent mostly behaving like a prat when in the company of a man who could not complain loudly enough about it, or simply watching Merlin when he was pointedly ignoring him.

In the days that followed Arthur didn't speak of the night that he had finally gotten what he wanted from the dark haired man, and Merlin seemed set on doing the same. But Arthur felt the same need simmering, unsatisfied by the single event and drawing up half-remembered images, sounds, scents to drive him to distraction. It was more difficult for Arthur to deny himself when he had already given in.

Mere days passed until his logic had devolved into arguments with himself that once was not really different from twice. That giving in would be nothing new and therefore no additional shame.

His hands did not need reasons when they snuck beneath Merlin's shirt, surprising him and causing him to jolt away from the unusual touch.

Merlin looked at him quizzically, and Arthur tried his best to look confident. He would not be rejected. He had never been rejected. "Your hand is cold." Merlin said instead of addressing what had happened.

Arthur advanced, erasing all distance between them. "I'll warm soon enough." A fear Arthur had been trying to push from his mind evaporated with the heat of Merlin's next glance. It was easy to fall into this, these new moments were just that: moments between all it took to be a king. A way of relief. A means of release. Something to occupy his time.

..XxXxX..

No matter how many times Merlin chided Arthur for behaving like a spoilt child, he knew the King knew no better. He'd never truly had a childhood. Not the sort Merlin remembered, running and playing and splashing, climbing trees just to feel the joy of your own muscles pulling you up and up, calling names and fighting just to make up when the next game started. Perhaps this was why Arthur dueled so diligently, why he hunted for sport, why he sought companionship in the only person in the kingdom that dared to call him names.

Merlin would show him a childhood, and help him grow into the leader he was destined to become. Or at the very least, he would help him enjoy himself.

A ride that was meant to be between Gwen and Arthur (and therefore became Gwen, Arthur, and Merlin) just to get away from the court turned into an afternoon picking berries in the forest. Somewhere along the line after an argument with Merlin where he certainly did not have the better point, even if he had the last word, Arthur had begun throwing the berries he didn't want in Gwen's general vicinity. "Is that mold?" He asked before tossing it her way, the action solely playful.

"That's disgusting." She quickly reprimanded, her attitude dwindling farther from her usual kind happiness as the minutes passed. "Stop it this instant." This time he'd thrown one with some dead bug near her.

"Oh, fine." He turned the other way and threw a perfectly good one to hit Merlin in the ear.

Without no forethought or reluctance Merlin returned fire, the game rapidly becoming very competitive as they each found the most overripe berries. They laughed tightly, hands cut from thorns and stained from berry juices.

Neither noticed when Gwen announced she was leaving, they were now to the stage where they'd dodge behind anything they could before launching another volley of artillery at each other.

Arthur stood, out of breath from laughing and running and throwing and generally acting like the child he'd never been allowed to be, behind a large tree. Easily hearing Merlin nearing his hiding place, he snuck around the side and smashed a handful of berries in the Merlin's face, chuckling darkly as he turned to run. Merlin caught his wrist, tugging him back with surprising strength while wiping the fruit from his face. He stuffed it down the back of Arthur's shirt as Arthur tried his best to push him away. After the deed was done Arthur shoved him and Merlin raised his hands in surrender. "I yield!" He exclaimed, backing into the tree behind him.

"You can't yield, I've won." Arthur stated in a teasing tone. "You've got something on your face."

"Really?" He wiped a small spot next to his nose. "Have I got it?" He jested in return.

"If you have your face is much more unattractive than I remembered." Arthur moved closer and made quick work of the seeds coating the high cheek bones, faintly tinged pink—from more than simply the berry if the heat meant anything. The king realized what he'd done and stepped away, not breaking eye-contact for several long seconds. He cleared his throat and looked guilty. "I think it's time to go in."

Merlin followed him wordlessly. This was something that was never to leave Arthur's room, not even on a venture alone in the woods. They were unprotected here, and even if he knew what would likely come hours after supper, he felt something like a loss for what could not be elsewhere.

..XxXxX..

On freezing nights he sometimes let Merlin stay. It was cold, and he'd rather a night with a body-sized heating pan that never chilled. Until said heating pan inevitably drew to his warmth in the middle of the night.

"Merlin, shift it." Arthur grumbled, pushing the other man.

Merlin curled to his side. "Feet are cold."

"Off." Arthur shoved as hard as one could with muscles that were convinced he was still sleeping. Which was to say not very.

"Mm-mm."

"You are sweating on me. Sweating. Your sweat. On me."

"Sh-sh-sh." Fingers reached for Arthur's mouth, finding his cheek instead and resting there. Merlin seemed to immediately fall back asleep.

It had been freezing. His back was still very cold. And yet the area between Merlin and himself was warmer than bath water fresh off the fire. Arthur tugged the blanket half-heartedly off of Merlin, which only served to make the dark haired man latch to his side as if Arthur's body heat was the only thing saving him from hypothermia.

Finally, he gave up, throwing the blanket back over Merlin and pulling it off of his own leg and arm, doomed to pull it back on and then throw it off again in a cycle until he could fall asleep, half sweaty, half frozen. It just wasn't worth the effort to keep shoving him away. But he definitely didn't enjoy these moments, especially with the contented little smile tugging at Merlin's lips, even as he drifted through dreams.

..XxXxX..

There was a tension in the halls between them. When Merlin would walk side by side with his king, he'd feel his hand moving as if of its own accord, stretching further than necessary, attempting to graze knuckles against Arthur's as they walked.

He told himself it was ridiculous. It wasn't as if he wanted to hold hands with him, he wasn't a girl. And he didn't want the whole kingdom thinking something that wasn't true, he didn't want to make Arthur choose to push him away in order to protect his image as king.

He just couldn't help that his heart stuttered a quicker beat when skin brushed skin, lighting fire in a path up his forearm, starting a blush he tried to suppress on the peaks of his cheekbones. He didn't understand why he fought for this, why even this was worth risking so much, and he couldn't stop himself.

..XxXxX..

Merlin scared himself tonight. Arthur had fallen quickly to sleep, uncaring whether Merlin stayed the night through or too tired to argue, and for the first time Merlin found he could not keep his eyes closed. Something warm and deep huddled in his chest, Merlin was imagining it as a little dragon, puffing contentedly there.

This image didn't stop the feeling from keeping him awake. He rolled toward Arthur, looking at him, knowing how annoyed Arthur would be if he woke him and thinking about risking it anyway. He wasn't sure why, Merlin felt he had something to say.

He was less than horrified when he realized what it was. He wanted to tell Arthur the truth.

Merlin knew Arthur better than he'd ever known anyone, he knew most of his expressions and could now tell just what Arthur wanted by the varied sound of his moans. And Arthur believed he knew Merlin just as well.

Merlin felt certain Arthur could learn to accept his magic.

"Arthur." Merlin murmured. "I have magic. And I use it to save your life. And sometimes to shine your armor and such."

Arthur continued to breathe evenly, sleeping on.

"I couldn't ever hurt you, you clotpole. So you'd better not think that's why I've kept it hidden." Merlin looked up toward the hangings next to the bed, bidding them to fall securely around the bed, as if to make a world just for Arthur and himself inside of them. They did as directed after a flash of gold in his eyes, and Merlin looked guiltily to Arthur's sleeping form even as he felt a rush of excitement at performing magic when he knew he could be caught. "I just can't let you lose me. And I can't lose you either. We have to be together for Albion. And because if we're not…" Merlin looked away again, unable to speak even to an unconscious Arthur about this.

"Well, you know. Cabbagehead." Even the mocking word sounded nothing but fond, and Merlin did try to resist touching Arthur's cheek. Tried and failed.

"What did you call me?" Arthur's husky, just-woken voice shot something straight to his groin, and for a moment he wondered if Arthur had heard the whole thing. Dred and excitement pined for his attention as Arthur's hand reached up and cupped Merlin's to his cheek, eyes barely open.

"Cabbagehead?" Merlin whispered, daring to hope for so many things at once.

"Mm." Arthur answered, hand gliding down Merlin's arm to his side, his hip, his thigh, then back, coming to rest kneading his ass roughly. Merlin may have been hoping for something else, but he would take this instead.

Arthur shifted toward him, eyes still heavily lidded with sleep even as they followed the path his hand had taken, catching just below his navel before flitting up to his eyes.

The hand on Arthur's cheek snaked behind his neck, fingers grasping hair and tugging him forward into a kiss that was all teeth and tongues and need.

The dragon in his chest breathed hot fire into his veins, and Merlin was exhilarated and alive in this. He was insatiable, ignoring that the space that ached to be filled was nearer the nipple Arthur had caught in his mouth than where his fingers teased.

For now, this was enough. He would make this enough.

..XxXxX..

"Your heart's against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck

I'm falling for your eyes, but they don't know me yet

And with a feeling I'll forget

I'm in love now"

Kiss Me – Ed Sheeran

A/N: Please do review, this chapter is my favorite yet and I'd like to know what people would like next. I could end it in another chapter, and it might feel a bit cheap, or go on for two or more and fill it out?