Author's Note:

I meant to post this as soon as I finished it, but sadly FanFiction's been down (its been down a lot lately, hasn't it?) But nevertheless, I'm happy to see that FanFiction is up and working today so that I can post the chapter I promised. I think you'll all REALLY like this chapter! ;)

As always, sorry to those of you if I didn't reply to your review personally. And again, thanks to all who did review! :)

- VioletRose136


Chapter Seven

Arthur shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

To his left stood Morgana and to his right stood his Father, King Uther. King Uther was not paying any attention to either of his children; instead he focused on the priest in front of him. That fake, public smile was plastered across his face as he shook the other man's hand warmly. Arthur repressed a groan. He didn't blame the public for disliking his Father so… Arthur had never truly felt all that fond of his Father himself. It didn't help matters that Arthur blamed his Father entirely for his own Mother's death, twelve years before.

Arthur remembered the day well, despite the fact that he had only been seven years old. They had been at Buckingham Palace three weeks after returning from a state visit to America. Arthur and Morgana had spent the morning playing on the lawn with their Mother only to come in to find a very grumpy King. He grumbled to Igraine about how commonly she acted towards her children… it had been one of their louder, more dramatic arguments that had occurred between the King and Queen. Closing his eyes, Arthur could hear his parents angry voices echoed in his head.

"Why on earth do you insist on treating them so commonly?" Uther stood by the side door, watching his wife scornfully.

"I'll thank you to keep your tone with me." She snapped. "And you can hardly talk about common, you often insist on talking like a seaman, even in front of the children. What on earth is that meant to teach them?"

Uther's eyes flared. "I am merely trying to make the point that perhaps you are a little too common with them, treating them like they're common."

"How else am I supposed to treat them? They're children, playing outside is good for them."

"Playing outside… playing in mud is common. They are royalty and should not be let to do such nonsense." Uther looked at his daughter and son, who stood with their hands interlinked, looking up at him. Arthur remembered feeling uneasy at this point. His parents had fought before in front of them and he hated it.

"They are royal children." Igraine emphasized the last word. "And it is not as if we are teaching them bad manners. They have gone on public occasions with us many a time and charmed the public.

"They are ROYAL!" Uther thundered. "Like it or not one day the boy will be King!"

"Today they are at home so why should they not be allowed to rest and do as they please? We allow you to do as you wish often enough at home."

"What does that mean?" Uther snapped.

"Oh, like you don't know!" Igraine replied hotly. "You insist on sleeping until one in the morning and then you get up unwashed and plop down on the couch and call for the first servant you can see to bring you a beer. You can hardly talk about common when you act constantly like such a lazy slug!"

"I do not insist on playing with mud."

"Oh, of course… I'm sorry dear, you insist on playing with other women!"

Uther threw back his head and laughed. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Oh, people talk Uther."

"Oh, who's talking? Your dumb friends at the clubs? Now love, tell me – who was it who told you that I'm seeing anybody besides yourself? Lady Celia DeWitt? The Duchess of Buckingham? Or maybe, it was even Elizabeth Princess of Kent? Although, I find it hard to imagine that my own cousin would be such a stupid idiot."

Igraine's green eyes flared. "My friends are not dumb, Uther. They are intellectual and can carry on a conversation better then you ever could!"

The fight had escalated until Morgana and Arthur had chosen to simply leave their parents and retire to their room. However a young Arthur waited at the door of his room, listening for the sound of his Mother's footsteps on the marble steps leading to her own apartments. It was a secret well-kept from the public that King Uther and Queen Igraine had separate rooms something that had occurred a year ago, a desperate attempt to save their marriage from divorce. Uther believed divorce to be for lower class, stupider people. People who weren't nearly on his level and he had forced his wife – rather violently, Igraine admitted to her sister Henrietta behind closed doors – to remain married to him. By the end of her life, Igraine feared, hated and loathed her husband.

Anyway, this fight was worse than the others. And Arthur as he always did, waited with his ear pressed to the double door of his room, ignoring his Nanny's attempts to draw him into a game or a movie. This was a common occurrence in the palace. Even as a young child, Prince Arthur was incredibly attuned to other people's feelings and hated to see his beloved mother so upset and longed to do all he could to comfort her.

Arthur remembered the last time he had seen his mother clearly.

Finally, half an hour later scurrying heels clicked nosily against the marble floor right past his door. Arthur tore the door open and turned in the direction the heels had gone, only to catch sight of his mother turning up the flight of stairs which lead to her apartments. Stealing a look at the Nanny and Morgana who were curled up on the other side of the room with chocolate biscuits watching 'Snow White' Arthur opened the door a crack and slipped out of the room past the guards.

No one tried to stop the young Prince as he walked down the corridor and up the carpeted steps and down three more corridors. Arthur let himself into his mother's chambers. The entrance hall was still and empty, but Arthur didn't waste time searching the twenty or so rooms which made up the Queen's apartment but instead went to exactly where he knew she would be. Making his way through her bedroom, he stopped outside the closed bathroom door and listened. His mother was sobbing loudly. Arthur tried the door, but as expected the Queen had locked it. She was no stranger to Uther's temper and even when she was as upset as she was, she did not waste time in putting as many defenses between her and her husband as possible.

Arthur looked around the room and saw the tissues which sat in their porcelain box (which concealed the much cheaper cardboard box within) and went over and grabbed a few. He walked over and lay on the floor in front of the door to the bathroom. Flattening the tissues as much as he could, Arthur slid the first one under the door. After a moment, the sobbing subsided a little as Igraine realized that her son was once again in the place he always took when she was upset. A moment later the sobbing resumed and Arthur slid a few more of the tissues under the door. Arthur waited a moment and then the door opened and his Mother took him into her arms.

Arthur said nothing, but buried his head into her neck, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of her Amor Amor perfume. She hugged him tightly, pressing her cheek against his soft blond hair.

"Oh Arthur," She whispered, hugging him closer. "I'm so sorry you had to listen to that."

At this point, one might expect Arthur to start asking questions like, 'Why does Father lose his temper so much?' or 'Don't you love Father?' but he did nothing of the sort. The questions had been asked by both him and Morgana time and time again and were worn through. Instead Arthur only wrapped his arms around his Mother and held her tightly.

"It's okay, Mummy." Arthur murmured. "I love you."

"Oh, I love you too, baby." Igraine rocked him. "But it's not okay. Your Father… oh I can't put up with this anymore!"

Putting Arthur down softly, Igraine raced out of the room and into her bedroom. Once there, she found a small duffel bag and shoved all of her jewelry into it. She then raced over to her wardrobe and pulled out all of her less fancy clothes, trousers instead of skirts, flats instead of heels. Even a few pairs of jeans had found their way into her wardrobe. Arthur sat on her bed and looked confused as she packed with vigorous speed.

"Mummy, what're you doing?"

"I'm leaving, Arthur." She zipped up the bag and looked up at him seriously.

"Will you come back?"

"I don't know, baby. I don't know."

"Can I come with you then?"

Igraine smiled and shook her head. "No, I think I'd get in trouble if I abducted the heir to the throne."

"I don't want to be heir to the throne." Arthur told her. "I want to be a policeman."

Igraine laughed, it wasn't a proper laugh, halfway between a sob and a laugh. She kissed Arthur on the forehead. "You can be both."

"Really?"

"Yes… and if you ask me, you'll make the best royal policeman ever!"

"Policeman? Don't go feeding nonsense into his head, Igraine. The boy can't be a policeman; he's got to be King!"

Igraine straightened up. "Hello, Uther."

King Uther walked into the room, with his arms crossed. He surveyed the pile of discarded hangers and the bag on the bed and looked up at Igraine, his eyebrow raised.

"Going somewhere, sweet?"

"Don't call me that."

"You didn't answer my question."

She took a deep breath. "Yes. I'm leaving."

A horrible screaming fight in which both Arthur and Igraine were thrown against walls by Uther later, Igraine ran from her apartments, Arthur in one hand and the bag in the other. They rushed down the palace steps with Uther hot on their heels and out of the gates. In Igraine's haste to get away from Uther, she had not looked before she crossed the road across from Buckingham Fountain. Holding Arthur by the hand she had run out – straight into traffic.

Arthur remembered it well. Something slammed into him – something hard. He remembered flying through the air, as if he'd been suspended in space and then he remembered falling before crashing to the hard tarmac. He remembered the pain, the shadowy faces surrounding him and then blank, complete and entire darkness.

Arthur had been rushed to the hospital with a broken leg, broken wrist, broken collarbone and fractured skull. He had come to as soon as they'd gotten to the hospital. King Uther had shown up and Arthur remembered screaming the entire time. Screaming in pain, screaming in confusion – for his leg had been pulsing with blinding pain had suddenly gone numb and the child believed that they had cut it off – but most of all screaming for his mother. He remembered very little about the hospital visit and them actually setting his leg as he was rushed into surgery, but what he did remember was an intense, painful need for his mother.

After the accident, the people had waited anxiously for a few days while they waited to learn if they had only lost their Queen, or if they had lost their Queen and their heir. Arthur pulled through the surgery and came out of the medically induced coma three days after the accident. King Uther had been very apologetic and sworn to Arthur up and down that he would try to be a better father to him and Morgana both… yet, Arthur hadn't believed him. He believed that his Father was feeling guilty and thought that he'd change his actions, but Arthur knew that Uther was too set in his ways to ever change. Of course, King Uther had risen enough suspicion after it came out that Igraine had been running from the palace after an argument that of course he made sure to be nicer to his children, but the core of him remained the same… as cold as ice.

Shaking his head to rid himself of these thoughts, Arthur came back to the present and focused on his Father as Uther turned to him and Morgana. The King smiled and nodded towards the door.

"Shall we?" He made a grand gesture towards the door.

Arthur nodded. "We shall." He then focused his gaze on the priest. "And Happy Christmas to you, Father!"

The priest smiled and nodded. "And yourself, Your Royal Highnesses. Your Majesty."

He offered Morgana his arm. Morgana smiled and took it. Arthur had to admit that his sister looked very fetching that afternoon. She wore a deep green coat and a velvet green hat which matched her coat on her dark hair. On her feet she had black shoes and she carried a green silk clutch. Arthur very dearly loved his sister. After their Mother's death, they found that really the other was the only person who each could really trust. Their Nanny was paid by Uther and as a result believed it required that she take any of their concerns about their Father directly to the King. Both brother and sister were very close. Arthur trusted Morgana with his life. Yet somehow he could never work up the courage to tell her that he was gay. It was only in the past few months (since he had met Merlin, actually) that Arthur had even allowed himself to put a name to the way he felt about some men. He had become reasonably used to thinking, "I'm gay" to himself but he was nowhere near saying it out loud, let alone saying it to someone. The thought of confiding in her how he felt about Merlin was completely out of the question.

Uther, wearing his long wool coat and his top hat paused at the steps to the abbey as a cheer went up as Arthur and Morgana and their cousins who walked behind them appeared. A group of nearly three hundred had shown in the cold December wind to see the royals. Morgana looked over at Arthur and smiled.

"I love this," Her dark eyes twinkled. "I love how some families have made a tradition spreading across generations to come out and see us. Isn't it lovely?"

Arthur looked over at a little girl about four or five wearing a bright red coat being held by her Father and smiled.

"Yes, very lovely. Shall we?"

Morgana nodded and broke away from his arm, walking on her own towards the crowd. Arthur and Uther followed her happily. Arthur made his way directly over to the little girl. He noticed that beside her Father was a wheel chair. His heart reached out to the little girl he smiled, holding out his hand for her to shake.

"Hello," He smiled at her.

Her eyes went big. "Hello." She took his hand gingerly and shook it.

"I'm Prince Arthur," He said softly, smiling. "What's your name?"

"Lola," She paused for a moment. "I've never met a prince before!"

Arthur chuckled. "Well, now you have and I think you're very pretty and I like your coat."

Lola, who was clearly shy mumbled a thank you and buried her head into her Father's shoulder. Arthur glanced up and briefly met her Father's eyes and smiled.

"Merry Christmas to you!" He nodded.

"And yourself, Your Highness." He smiled and nodded and Arthur moved onto the next group of people, speaking to them briefly.

About five minutes later, Arthur came across a Mother standing with her new baby and daughter. Who he perceived to be her husband was crouched down by their daughter (who was also about four or five) pointing at Morgana and whispering something about how pretty the Princess looked. When Arthur approached them he rose immediately and shook Arthur's hand.

"Merry Christmas, Prince Arthur." He smiled.

"And you, sir." Arthur nodded.

"Your Highness, this is my daughter Caroline." He reached down and picked Caroline up. She grinned at Arthur. "Caroline, don't you have something you would like to give Prince Arthur?"

She shyly held out a piece of paper which Arthur took. Looking at it Arthur realized it was a dog wearing a crown.

"Oh goodness! I've always wanted a dog." He looked back up at Caroline and smiled. "Father believes that they would make far too much of a mess in the palace… but maybe one day when I'm King I'll have one. It's a lovely picture, thank you."

"The dog is probably nicer than my brother!"

Her Father flushed and scrambled for an explanation. "I'm very sorry, Your Highness. Caroline's brother just came home last week and she's had some trouble adjusting."

"It isn't to worry." He smiled at her Father reassuringly before focusing back on Caroline and smiling. "This is a lovely picture. When I return to Buckingham Palace I'll make sure to find a frame for it so it stays safe forever."

If he had not been standing before the Prince, Caroline's father would have called Arthur's words a bluff to make Caroline feel special on Christmas Day. But now, standing before the royal and looking at the earnest look in his eyes, Caroline's father couldn't help but feel that Arthur meant every word he said. A trickle of affection for the Prince ran through him. Perhaps the monarchy wasn't as doomed as he often complained it was.

"Thank you, sir." He nodded and smiled at Prince Arthur.

"Arrthuur." Drawled Uther from a few feet away, "We do need to return to Sandringham. I hear that they are cooking up a lovely roast for us all."

Arthur glanced at his Father over his shoulder momentarily before turning back to Caroline and her family. He reached out and shook her father's hand warmly. "I hope you and your family have a lovely Christmas."

"And you, Your Highness."

Arthur smiled and turned away, walking towards his sister and Father and continuing towards their car. He leaned back in the plush seat and closed his eyes as they pulled away, he thought of Merlin, waking up in Clarence House with his Mother and Gaius and all their servants and fine food and hoped he was having a nicer Christmas then he was in Norfolk.

oOo

After being woken up at the ungodly hour of seven, Merlin and his family made it down to Sandringham House at just about ten. They were shown by one of the footmen into the parlor where the royal family were enjoying morning coffee with their other guests before heading out to the hunt at eleven. Arthur looked up as they walked into the room and set his coffee cup down slightly too hard on the glass tabletop as he caught sight of Merlin.

"Merlin!" He squeaked and then looked around, ensuring that no one had noticed before standing up and going over and greeting his friend with a man-hug. He greeted Hunith and Gaius before turning back to Merlin. "Happy Boxing Day, Merlin! You had a good Christmas, living it up in Clarence House, I hope?" I missed you yesterday. He added silently. I wish you could have been there with me.

"Yes, the kitchen prepared a very nice Christmas Goose." Merlin smiled his impish smile. "Did you have a nice Christmas?"

Arthur gave Merlin a look which said, Dear God, don't even ASK how my Christmas was! But aloud he said. "Indeed, it was very lovely. Morgana presented me with a first edition of Jane Eyre."

Morgana laughed, coming to stand at Arthur's shoulder. "I can't imagine how you could simply even like that book… it's awfully sad. An entirely pointless buy, if you ask me. But my dear brother liked it well enough, so I suppose that it was not a total loss."

Merlin smiled. "Arthur likes all sorts of odd things. One night I came by his room to pull him out for a drink with a group of our friends and found him watching Say Yes to the Dress on his laptop!"

"American Reality TV is famous." Arthur argued. "I felt since it was such an important part of American culture that I should expose myself to it. Anyway, Merlin didn't you text me last night about a present?"

"What? That must have been an elf. Why on earth would I get you a present? You're horrible!" Merlin's eyes were alight with humor.

Arthur turned and walked over to the tree, reaching under it and withdrawing a small box. "Oh, well I suppose I'm just going to have donate your present to a charity shop then."

"You bought me a present?" Merlin's tone was slightly more surprised than Arthur would have anticipated. The prince laughed.

"Of course I got you a present. I'm slightly offended that you thought I wouldn't."

"No… it's just that you've already given me so much for Christmas. I mean, you've given my family a completely free and amazing trip to England. What else could I possibly ask from you?"

"Well, it's not that big of a present, but I think it's sufficient." Arthur held out Merlin's present to him. The other man took it, his hands brushing against Arthur's for the briefest of moments. Merlin resisted the urge to draw his hand back in shock when their hands brushed – it felt like electricity had just bolted up his entire arm – but instead took the small box carefully.

Merlin unwrapped it so slowly that Arthur thought he might die from suspense. Merlin's eyes lit up as he unrolled the box of cologne Arthur had gotten him. Turning it over, Merlin realized that it was the cologne. The same one which he and Arthur had seen in a fragrance shop in Georgetown a few weeks before: Euphoria by Calvin Klein which Merlin had smelled and admired, but simply hadn't had the funds to buy. Besides he was a broke college student – what on earth would he need cologne for? He looked up at Arthur, suddenly fighting the urge to cry.

"Wow, you remembered!" He smiled and Arthur felt his heart melt. "This is really lovely, Arthur. Thank you."

Arthur blushed. "You're welcome. I remembered how you'd been lusting after it. Now, what was this about a present for me?"

Merlin smiled and reached into his pocket. "It's not very big…"

Arthur's eyes flicked up and met Merlin's. "I'm sure it will be perfect."

Tenderly, he began to unwrap the present. His eyes widened when he uncovered a signature blue box from Tiffany's. He looked up at Merlin, who was watching him, a smile on his face. Words stumbled to his lips, he knew that Merlin was not one to have money to flash around easily and he knew what his friend must have given up to even be able to consider finding a gift at Tiffany's.

"Oh Merlin, you didn't have to…"

"I know I didn't have to, you prat." Merlin smiled. "I wanted to. It's not much… but I hope you'll like it."

Arthur slowly opened the box and smiled when he saw what was inside. Placed on the cotton lining were two emerald cufflinks set in white gold. Arthur looked up at Merlin and smiled.

"Oh Merlin, these are lovely. Thank you."

"I knew you probably had a few other pairs… being the prince and all," Merlin was blushing furiously. "…But I thought that another pair couldn't hurt."

Arthur closed the box and smiled. "Not emerald ones, though. And despite being a royal, I'm afraid I've never made it to Tiffany's for cufflinks. Two firsts in one present," He paused, trying to search for the words to tell Merlin how much he appreciated his gift. "They really are lovely, thank you Merlin."

Merlin smiled and continued to blush. "It isn't a worry. Seemed like it was fair enough that I should replace the ones I bent last month."

While staying overnight with Arthur (they had spent the evening having a House marathon and by the time season two wrapped up, it had already been four in the morning and Merlin hadn't seen a point in returning to his dorm room) Merlin had stepped on and bent a pair of Arthur's cufflinks which carelessly had been left on the floor. Arthur hadn't blamed Merlin, but that hadn't stopped his friend from still feeling guilty.

"I didn't know you felt this guilty." Arthur laughed. "I think I ought to have you break my cufflinks more often… I mean, if it gets me replacements from Tiffany's!"

Morgana laughed. Merlin turned to her and smiled. "You see? He's hopeless. He'll be breaking all of his other cufflinks before the end of the day. You just watch."

"And then will he have replacements?"

"Of course not." Merlin smiled. "He'll be an idiot with a lot of broken cufflinks."

oOo

"Arrgh!" Arthur stumbled over, falling in front of everyone. He crashed to the ground and for moment, Merlin's heart stood still. He knew very well what had happened to Arthur when his Mother had died and immediately felt worried that his bones would be weaker and he would be more subject to be hurt.

Morgana, who had her rifle pointed towards the heavens, trying to focus her aim on a certain bird which had been annoying her since they arrived at the hunt, she had just been about to fire when she had heard her brother fall behind her. Arthur lay flat out on his back, his head thrown back. For a moment she felt the same panic which mirrored Merlin's, but then Arthur groaned and raised his head. She knelt by him, handing her rifle to her boyfriend, Edward Cavendish who was in line to become the Duke of Devonshire. The show felt cold through her trousers but she ignored it.

"Arthur, are you all right?" Morgana questioned, Arthur rose up on his elbows.

"Yeah, just a piece of black ice… I think I'm fine."

Smirking to cover his complete relief that Arthur had not been injured Merlin reached his hand down to help Arthur up. But immediately as he tried to rise on his left leg, Arthur winced and let go of Merlin's hand, falling back down again.

"What's wrong?" This time, Merlin didn't bother to conceal the panic in his voice.

"My… ankle, I've twisted it or something." Arthur smiled at the group which had surrounded them since he had fallen. "It isn't a fatal injury. Although I think it might put an end to my hunting activities today."

"I see." Uther looked back to where the car had been parked. "Do you wish to return to Sandringham?"

"I suppose so. I can't really stand and I think that a glass of port and a nice fire would be better than sitting in cold snow."

"I'll go with you." Merlin offered. He had been enjoying the shoot so far, but leapt at any chance to be alone with Arthur. It seemed that save for perhaps five minutes here and there ever since they had arrived in England, Arthur had always had someone around. It would be nice, Merlin figured to be alone with Arthur for the afternoon.

"Are you sure you don't want to remain here?" Arthur did not want to act to eager to be alone with Merlin.

"Nah, I have a bad feeling that every moment I spend here is another moment the chance of me causing an accident becomes more likely. I'd best get out of here."

"Well, when you put it that way…"

Arthur reached his arms up as two of their security guards helped him to his feet, putting his weight on his right leg. They helped him limp to the car and after saying his goodbyes to the rest of the group, Merlin followed Arthur, sliding into the car after him and allowing the chuffer to close the door behind him.

Arthur leaned his head against the back of the seat, closing his eyes for a moment before he opened them and looked at Merlin.

"Shame this," He sighed. "I've been rid of my chance to finally shoot the biggest cock!"

Merlin snorted.

"I was talking about a male pheasant you undeniable dollop head!" Arthur's tone was exasperated, but he still smiled.

Merlin's eyes flashed playfully. "Hey, who're you calling a dollop head?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "I'm calling you a dollop head. I thought I'd made that clear."

"Do you even know what a dollop head is?" Merlin questioned, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"Do you?" Arthur shot back.

"Indeed."

"Explain it to me."

"In two words?"

"If you can manage it."

"Um…" Merlin looked thoughtful for a moment. "Oh, I know – Prince Arthur!"

If Arthur hadn't been concerned about accidentally hurting his ankle further, he would have tackled Merlin.

They arrived back at Sandringham House at about a quarter past two. Someone ran and got Arthur ice for his ankle as he and Merlin took off their wraps and got settled into Arthur's apartments on the top floor. Someone had lit a fire in the sitting room while they were out and a manservant would be in shortly with the port Arthur had ordered. Merlin looked around the room in amazement. How, he wondered, did Sandringham House manage to be so different from Clarence House yet still so elegant?

Sitting down on the couch next to Arthur, who was dismissing the servant who brought the port Merlin poured himself and Arthur a glass. Handing one glass to Arthur, Merlin leaned back against the couch. Arthur smiled at him.

"Tell me, was shooting really all that bad?" He said softly, cradling his cup.

Merlin shook his head. "Not exactly the kind of sport I'd ever thought I'd be into. I grew up in West Virginia, remember. What classed as hunting there was taking out your hounds and having them rip a fox apart… I've always found it to be rather gruesome. What I saw out there was completely different… still shooting, but more mundane, I suppose. I'd like to try it again."

"How about I force you to return with me in October?" Arthur suggested. "October's when the hunting season usually begins, when pheasants are thought to be most tender."

"Wait, will we be eating the pheasants you kill today?"

"I didn't get in any good shots today." Arthur replied. "But yes, if Morgana manages to bring down one of the birds, I'll expect that we'll see it for lunch tomorrow before we head back to London."

"Oh, I see."

They lapsed into comfortable silence. After a few glasses of port, Arthur was feeling very warm and sleepy and completely unable to make interesting conversation. So he suggested that they turn on the television to see if anything good was on. They found Mrs. Santa Clause on BBC 1 and leaning back happily settled in to watch it. They finished that film and moved onto Scrooged, during which Arthur fell asleep.

Arthur woke with a jerk, unsure of what had awoken him. A quick assessment told him that nothing was wrong and he let it go, assuming that it had been a worker outside or someone in the hallway. But just as he let his eyes fall shut, he realized that there was pressure against his chest. Confused, he opened his eyes further, making himself wake up and focus on the room around him. What he found made his heart stop and his breath catch.

Merlin was in his arms.

Still sleeping, Merlin rested his head against Arthur's chest. Arthur's arm was thrown carelessly around his shoulders. Arthur's heart burned with desire and he couldn't stop his hand reaching out and running his fingers through Merlin's raven hair. Upon feeling Arthur's touch, Merlin opened his eyes and smiled. He stretched his arm across Arthur chest and nuzzled his head further into Arthur's chest, inhaling the Prince's intoxicating scent. Arthur reached down and caught the hand that ran down his chest, interlinking their fingers and bringing Merlin's hand to his cheek, turning his head just slightly so that he could brush his lips against the back of Merlin's hand.

In that moment, Arthur knew. Arthur knew for certain that Merlin felt exactly the same way about him. Something about the intimacy of their position, how they had fallen into it subconsciously, something about how Merlin fit perfectly to his side… something about how Merlin looked now, sluggish from sleep, how the simplest of touches could extract such a powerful need from Arthur something about Merlin took control of Arthur. All of his inhabitations fell away, all of his worries.

Tilting his head slightly downward, Arthur kissed Merlin. Merlin was primarily surprised by the sudden kiss, but that surprise melted away quickly. He pushed himself up on his free elbow, deepening their kiss. That was all the encouragement Arthur needed. He sat up, pulling Merlin with him and kissed him again. Merlin pressed his tongue against Arthur's lips, begging entrance. Arthur allowed it, pushing his fingers through Merlin's hair. Merlin rose up, leaning diagonally across Arthur, one hand wrapped around his neck and the other pressing against the back of the couch. He kissed Arthur again. Arthur's hands dropped to Merlin's hips as Merlin straddled him.

"Arthur…" Merlin whispered against his lip, "Arthur, I love you."

Something in Merlin's words, however tender they might be brought Arthur back to his senses. Jerking away mid kiss, Arthur attempted to pull away from Merlin. After a moment of confusion, Merlin dropped his restraint and moved back. Arthur looked up at him, but it was not anger Merlin saw in the prince's eyes, it was desperation.

"Why the fuck did you do that?" Arthur's voice was low.

"Do what? You kissed me."

"I did no such thing!" Arthur snapped. He knew he was being unreasonable and there was no point in lying, because both of them knew exactly what had happened, but he tried it anyway. "What rubbish are you talking about?"

"Arthur, you kissed me."

"No, I didn't!" Arthur stood, ignoring the searing pain in his leg, limping over to the door, he flung it open. "Get out, Merlin."

Merlin stood, looking at Arthur with hurt and confusion. "Wha –"

"I said get out."

Something in Arthur's tone told Merlin that arguing with the Prince would not get him anywhere. His head ducked, he walked to the door, passing Arthur without a second glance. Arthur slammed the door after him and then sunk to the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees and bowing his head. He ran his hands through his hair in aggravation.

What the hell had just happened?