So here is the 'big chapter' you have been waiting for, though I do warn again: be careful what you wish for! ;) Also I saw a bit of fanart that I cannot for the life of me find anywhere again, and it inspired a scene in this chapter, so credit to that person whoever you are, if you think it seems familiar it's because you have a beautiful mind and amazing skills ;) Also I was listening mainly to 'Come Back To Me' by Les Friction whilst writing this and I'm sorry xxx

The others had all managed to get back to the campsite without losing anyone else and Elyan had set about cooking tea. Good. Arthur was starving! He apologised to them about being rude earlier and they all nodded. Kerry tugged him down onto a chair beside her and he smiled at her, grateful she didn't hold grudges.

"Did you have fun on your little adventure?" She said teasingly.

He rolled his eyes. "I forgot just how huge a place Albion is."

Kerry chuckled at that and patted his hand. "And you made up with Merlin?"

The King nodded. "Yeh we're okay now."

"He cares a lot about you, you know."

Arthur looked towards their tent, from which Merlin was just emerging. "I know. I think I'm beginning to realise just how much." A soft smile played at the corners of his mouth as Merlin caught his stare and pulled a face at him. Kerry could see the look in her ancestor's eye, and just wished he could get over whatever was stopping him from admitting his feelings. She sighed. One baby step at a time, she supposed.

After a delicious tea (Elyan was a pretty decent cook), they all sat around the campfire, with marshmallows on sticks. Gwaine particularly enjoyed this activity, because Percival was cleaning his boots from the walk, and thus had his hands full, and this meant that Gwaine had to feed the bigger man his toasted marshmallows.

The process was a tad difficult, as the heated marshmallows were prone to ooze down the stick and drip. Some dripped onto Percival's chin as Gwaine held the stick up to his mouth. Gwaine put it down and found a napkin.

"Here, honestly you." He smiled as Percival took the napkin and scrubbed at his chin.

"Hey it's not my fault! You're the one who let it drip."

Gwaine gave him a playful shove, to which Percival retaliated, and a flicking, pushing and nudging contest began.

"Get a room you guys!" Kerry called from across the fire, where she was still sat in her chair next to Arthur, and Mordred was now sat on the grass beside her, leaning against her legs, fast asleep, exhausted from the walk. She soothingly ran her fingers through his soft hair as she looked over at the two knights. Another two who needed to admit their feelings.

"It's okay, we've got a tent!" came Gwaine's cheeky reply and Kerry's eyes widened. Was he admitting something? But the shocked look in Percival's eyes told her that whatever Gwaine was implying, it was news to him too. Gwaine glanced at his friend and their eyes held for a long while before both looked quickly back to the fire. So he was testing the waters then, Kerry deduced. Well good for him. If anyone was going to make the first move, it was going to have to be Gwaine; Percival was far too shy and innocent.

Arthur looked at them, rubbing his chin, trying to work it out. Gods, he was slow. He glanced at Gwen who was rising to get herself something to drink. She dropped a kiss on Leon's curly mop of hair and he smiled, turning his head and reaching out to grasp her hand to kiss. Arthur then looked back at Percival and Gwaine, then back at Gwen and Leon, before turning back to Percival and Gwaine one last time. It seemed to suddenly click and his mouth opened ever so slightly in surprise. But he must have remembered the incident earlier in the day when he'd opened his big mouth and caused upset, so he promptly shut it again and looked at Kerry, as if for confirmation of what he was thinking.

She'd been watching Arthur as he'd come to this realisation, and she nodded slowly at him. He looked slightly lost for a moment before shaking his head to himself and putting a smile on. Kerry rolled her eyes. He was from a different time. This would take a little getting used to. Arthur glanced to his other side at Merlin, blushed and hastily looked away, back at the fire.

"Arthur..." Merlin spoke quietly.

The King looked flustered. "Ah- what? Huh? Yes?"

"Your marshmallow's on fire."

Arthur yelped and pulled it out, blowing on the blackened lump at the end of the stick. Merlin laughed and gave Arthur his stick with the melted-just-right marshmallow on the end. The King mumbled his thanks and stuffed the sweet into his mouth.

By eleven o'clock, everyone was slowly drifting to bed, tired out from the day's long walk. Arthur was asleep even before his head hit the pillow, and Merlin too was softly snoring shortly after.

Gwaine was clearing the bottles and plates and cutlery into the washing up bowl for the morning, whilst Percival had already headed into their tent. Gwaine paused and sighed. Percival just wasn't getting it was he. Hell, he'd dropped enough hints in the last week or so. Maybe he didn't feel that way about Gwaine. A twinge tugged away in his chest at the thought. But then Percival didn't act like that around anyone else but him, mind you they were best friends. Ugh, he shouldn't dwell on it. He should just go to bed and find some respite from his overworking mind.

Gwaine clambered into the outer section of his tent and kicked his shoes off. He glanced at the inner sleeping compartment and rubbed his hand down his face. He opened the zip and climbed in, closing it behind him. Percival was sat on his bed, pulling off his shirt, revealing those ginormous biceps of his. Gwaine smirked. They were probably about the size of his thigh! Percival looked up then and caught Gwaine's gaze. A little pink tinged his cheeks as he felt Gwaine's eye roaming over his upper body.

The smaller man seemed to snap out of it then, and he shuffled to his side of the tent and began undressing. Now it was Percival who couldn't tear his eyes away. Gwaine turned to his friend and looked as Percival swallowed hard.

A tentative hand reached out and brushed the cool metal of one of Gwaine's pendants which hung on the necklace he always wore. Mementos of his parents; his father's ring and a token from his mother's land - he never took it off.

"Perce-"

But he was cut off as Percival's lips suddenly crushed his. Hands mapped their way up his body and tangled in the wavy dark hair, as a billion and one emotions exploded in Gwaine's mind. He reached his own hands up to grasp the strong arms now winding round him and sighed into Percival's mouth.

They broke apart for air a few minutes later, both gasping and smiling. Gwaine pressed his forehead to Percival's and closed his eyes grinning idiotically.

"Never knew you cared!" he laughed breathlessly. Percival gave a chuckle and captured Gwaine's mouth in a short but exhilarating kiss.

"Don't be so stupid!" he murmured around Gwaine's lips. "I've always cared." He fell back on his bed, pulling Gwaine down with him, hands now exploring the dips and ridges of muscle of the man's back.

"As have I, big man. As have I." And Gwaine bent his head again to fuse their lips together once more.

The next morning Kerry was trudging round the tents, sleepy eyed, hair messy and stuffing some cereal into her mouth from her bowl. Gwaine, Percival and Mordred were also already up and about, getting breakfast.

Mordred was slouched in one of the camp chairs, feet propped up on the table munching on an apple sleepily, a cup of coffee balanced on his stomach, probably held there by magic. Percival was leaning down looking for a bowl when Gwaine walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on the man's back. Percival turned and straightened, two bowls and two spoons now found, and firmly planted a kiss on Gwaine's smiling mouth before moving away to fill the bowls with some cereal. Kerry dropped her bowl onto the floor; milk and cornflakes spilling everywhere, and Mordred stopped mid-crunch as they stared at the two.

"Finally!" Kerry eventually screeched, which was followed by several sleepy groans from the other tents of "what was that?", "shut the hell up!" and "was that a banshee?"

"It bloody took you two long enough! Oh my god I'm so happy for you guys! This is so cute, you suit each other perfectly! You were made for each other!" she babbled, wide awake now and bouncing around. Others now popped their heads out of the tents and the caravan. Gwen leaned out of the door, hair wild and curly, and smiled.

"Well this has been a long time coming!" she laughed, rubbing her eyes.

Mordred laughed and threw his apple core at the two men who were now blushing as they ate their breakfast.

"You sly dogs, I would never have guessed!" he said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he grinned.

"Well it had to happen eventually, this one is completely obsessed with me!" Gwaine winked towards Percival who rolled his eyes.

"You wish, little man."

Arthur emerged from his tent then, yawning. He tripped over the same guy rope he'd been falling over for the entire holiday thus far, gave the accompanying customary morning yelp of shock (although by now he should really see it coming) and sat (fell) into a camping chair.

"What was all that yelling about?" he rubbed his face drowsily with his hand, which was mostly covered by his long baggy top he'd adopted as part of his pyjama set.

"Percival and Gwaine-" Kerry began excitedly, but stopped herself. "No, you guys tell him."

Gwaine gulped, quietening suddenly; worried what his King might think of this whole thing.

"I…well, Percival and I er…we…"

Percival looked up from his breakfast bowl and fixed his eyes on Arthur's. "I'm with him. He's with me." He gave a short nod as if to finalise it and waited for Arthur to respond.

The blonde's mouth opened and shut several times, before he raised his arms in a shrugging, submissive gesture. "I don't have any problem with that, if that's what you're worrying about. It's er…it's been a long time coming. Congratulations." He matched Percival's stare and both men broke into a grin.

"That's what I said!" Gwen piped up, a relieved smile on her face.

Merlin then appeared, hopping around as he pulled on his boots over his baggy joggers, before looking at Gwaine and Percival. He grinned at them, he knew – he could just tell. He didn't say anything, but nodded at them and then went about making him and Arthur a cup of coffee.

"I think we ought to head back home tomorrow." Merlin said from the stove. Several groans of protest sounded from the table. "Well we've been here for a week already, and I only booked us for 6 nights or so. We'd have to pay for longer tomorrow if we stayed."

Kerry sighed and agreed and eventually the others mumbled their okay's.

Merlin looked away from the others, who were now talking about how they had to make the most of their last day, a soft smile appearing on his full lips. He didn't know that Arthur was watching him with a fond smile of his own.

They did anything they could think of that day. Visited the beach one more time, went traipsing round seaside towns, bought fish and chips, had an evening drink at a pub (not the same one they'd met Ryan in) before finishing up at the campsite, gathered round the fire that Morgana had just lit, in their own camping chair or sat on the grass.

"What does everyone want to do this evening?" Arthur said cheerfully. Shrugs and contented smiles came as the reply as several of them said "We've done everything," or "This." The King's mouth turned down at the corners slightly.

"So…no one wants to go to the beach?"

"Arthur we've already been there today!"

He looked down at his bottle of ale with a downcast expression. "Just asking…" he mumbled. Merlin looked at him through the flickering flames. He swallowed hard and wet his dry lips.

"I'll go with you if you want…?"

The King glanced up and caught the blue gaze. He very much did want, but he forced himself to ask around a little more, half-heartedly asking Leon, so he didn't seem overly eager. But thankfully everyone really was just happy to sit by the campfire chatting.

"Alright then, Merlin. Looks like it's just you and me." Arthur smiled rising to his feet, ignoring the little smile Kerry had now started to send him whenever he was in Merlin's company. The warlock set his bottle down and stood, smiling at Arthur. They set off out from the campsite and started down the little country road to the sea, Merlin couldn't be bothered to drive and it really wasn't that far.

They walked in companionable silence most of the way, until their usual banter and teasing kicked in. The sun was just setting when they reached the sandy beach, and Arthur again stood staring for a while, watching the glowing orange sun sink beneath the distant horizon. Merlin shivered in the cool breeze and sat on the sand.

The warlock cupped his hands. "Upastige dracaforbearnan." His eyes flashed that specific gold of his that Arthur secretly liked to watch out for, and a dragon made from embers that came from nowhere floated up from Merlin's cupped hands. It flew around once or twice, before diving back into Merlin's hands. A small fire emerged and flickered, hovering in the warlock's hands. He gently spread and moved his hands apart, allowing the fire to hover in mid-air. Arthur watched all this with genuine interest.

"That is quite…beautiful," he mused. Uther had always taught him all magic was dangerous and evil, yet each time Arthur had watched Merlin use his magic before he'd died, it had been for defence, and he'd only used it if he'd had to. And in this century, the darker-haired man used it for simple, practical tasks like cooking, or fetching certain objects or switching on the lights. He regretted what he'd said yesterday even more now; he'd no idea that it could be beautiful too. Uther had been so very wrong.

Slowly he sat opposite Merlin, the fire hovering to the side of them. He crossed his legs, like the warlock and looked at him, studying. Merlin rubbed his hands before letting them rest on his knees, and smiled at the fire he'd created, unaware of Arthur's gaze.

Gently Arthur reached out and placed a hand atop Merlin's. The warlock's blue eyes flickered down at their hands and then up to meet Arthur's gaze.

"Merlin…I-…I'm so sorry for everything my father said and did against magic…and for the things I said and did too…" he trailed off, a guilt-ridden look on his face. Merlin shook his head and moved a hand to place it over the King's in a reassuring manner.

"It's not your fault, you were just doing what you thought was right."

"All the same, it must have been difficult to serve such a family, and to have to endure everything we said."

Merlin squeezed Arthur's hand. "No, Arthur. I was happy to be your servant, and still am. Till the day I die." He joked, referring to his immortality. A smile twitched at the corners of the King's mouth. He looked down at their hands and then bashfully back up at Merlin.

"What's…um what's your…"

"Yes?"

Arthur shook his head. "Nah never mind, silly question."

"No, go on…" Merlin smiled encouragingly.

The King swallowed hard before peeking up at Merlin through his lashes. "What's your favourite spell?"

It was barely a whisper, but Merlin heard it. He nearly stopped breathing for a few moments. For years he'd wanted Arthur to be able to ask him this question, to grow enough to accept magic, and then to ask small, harmless questions about it…for him to be comfortable with the idea of his best friend wielding a power that could topple Albion.

Gently the warlock freed his hands, but lifted the King's up so that they were cupped in mid-air. Merlin placed his hands underneath Arthurs's, and looked up into his eyes briefly. The look he read was one of anticipation and bewilderment. With a little smile he closed his hands around Arthur's, but left a small space within.

"Gewyrc an lif" he murmured. Arthur watched the warlock's blue eyes flood with that golden light, before looking back down at his hands. He felt something tickling his palms from within the little enclosed space. Merlin pulled his hands open once more.

A perfect little butterfly sat there on Arthur's palms, opening and shutting its glowing blue wings. After a few moments, it fluttered upwards and began to fly off into the night sky, a luminous blue dot against the darkness.

Merlin's eyes followed it as it flew away, an incredulous smile on his beautiful face, as if even after all these years of using magic, it never failed to amaze him, as if this one little butterfly could transform even the darkest hour into a moment of clarity and beauty. Arthur wondered how many times this butterfly had been cast in all the years Merlin had been waiting, how many times it had given the ancient young man hope in those dark times, how many times it had caused that mesmerising smile to appear on that world-weary face.

He noticed now that he wasn't even watching the butterfly as his friend was doing, but was staring at Merlin once more. The high, well-defined cheekbones, the dark lashes above his striking blue eyes, his full lips and ridiculous ears, that inky-blue dark hair of his that could either stick up in all adorable directions, or fall about in such a manner that made Arthur shiver with something akin to desire.

Something was aching deep within Arthur's chest. The ache he always seemed to get whenever he stared at the warlock, but this time it felt all-consuming, over-powering…

The King's breathing sped up, and he felt his heart rate quicken. He leaned slowly forwards and Merlin turned to him, his lips parted ever so slightly. The doubts weren't even seeping in yet, there was no way he would be able to resist this anyway, not with Merlin's lips so close...

With a soft urgency he didn't know existed, Arthur's lips brushed against Merlin's, his hands slowly creeping up to gently cup his face. Gods, he'd wanted this for such a long time. Nights spent wondering what Merlin's lips tasted like, days spent daydreaming of feeling the warlock's flushed skin and soft hair under his more calloused hands.

His thumbs traced the high cheekbones and he moaned a little into Merlin's mouth. Too long had he resisted this.

As for Merlin, he'd been surprised when Arthur had sent him that longing look, and even more surprised when the man had leant forward and pressed his lips to his. Sparks and bolts of electricity were sent through Merlin's entire body, from Arthur's lips and hands.

One-thousand-and-a-half years he'd been waiting for this. Waiting for Arthur to love him, want him like Merlin did. He'd lived through all those years thinking he would never feel those lips - whilst Arthur had been wed to Gwen, Merlin had just had to grin and bear it. And centuries of longing only strengthened the feelings deep within the warlock. After all this time, there was no doubt that what Merlin felt was love.

And finally here he was in the 21st century, on a beach with his blue butterfly fluttering off into the night above them, and Arthur kissing him with a gentle earnest.

Merlin felt his own hands reaching up to cup the King's face, feeling the roughness of stubble and the hard line of his jaw. Their lips moved against each other and Merlin couldn't help a sigh escape.

"Arthur..." he murmured through parted lips. Arthur shivered and his hands fisted a little in Merlin's hair, arms pulling him as close as humanly possible. So many built up emotions between them. So many years of longing; Arthur finding himself staring after Merlin in Camelot's halls and not knowing why, Merlin crying out for his friend in the darkness of night in those long centuries.

He felt Merlin trembling a little, and tasted a slight saltiness, was Merlin crying? Arthur didn't want him crying.

"Stop it, stop." He murmured against Merlin's lips, moving round to kiss his cheek. But Merlin didn't want him kissing his cheek. The warlock twisted his head to recapture Arthur's lips, and slid his hands round that strong neck, pulling the King even closer. The kiss deepened then, into a more hunger-fuelled, intense passion.

But something began to niggle at the back of Arthur's mind. It wasn't going away. This was Merlin. Merlin was a man. Merlin was his friend. Merlin was his silly clotpole of a manservant. What in the name of the dragons was he doing kissing him? He shouldn't be doing this.

The King froze then, before abruptly pulling back. Merlin's head jerked forward and he opened his eyes. He saw Arthur staring at him, a look of complete confusion and inner conflict across his handsome face. No. No no no. Don't do this now, Arthur. Not now you've started something. Merlin thought desperately.

"Arthur?" he asked, a tentative tone to his voice. The King frowned and shook his head, looking down at his hands, which had been fisted in Merlin's hair not thirty seconds ago.

Arthur sat silently, as the doubts broke down the wall he'd managed to build up. What the hell was he doing? This was Merlin. A man. What was he thinking? How could he be kissing Merlin, his best friend?

He swallowed hard and looked back up at Merlin's just as surprised and confused face. What must he think of him?

"Arthur!" Merlin said his name again, an urgency to it.

"Forget this happened!" Arthur growled suddenly and stood to his feet, swaying slightly as his vision blurred with dizziness from his haste.

"What?!" Merlin choked out, scrambling to his own feet. Arthur staggered several steps back.

"You heard. Nothing happened."

"But-"

"Nothing. Happened!"

And with that, Arthur turned on his heel and jogged away, back up the beach at a pace he knew the other man couldn't keep up with. Merlin stood there staring after him, his heart shattering into a million and one pieces. Again.