A/N: Hi! I'm late! I know!

Ahh. I've got no excuse for being late, so sorry, y'all. I'm just... not feeling this story much, anymore. I don't know. It's all written, so I will post it all, but it's not a high priority to me. If anyone is interested, I am currently writing a Drarry (Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter) fic, which I will post, should I ever finish it. It's an "eighth year" fic, where the group goes back to Hogwarts for their last year after the war, and it deals with lots of heavy stuff, like PTSD and the like. So, my usual. There's no guarantee I'll finish it (I gave up on the other Merthur fic I mentioned ages ago, if anyone was curious about that), but I hope I will. Work stuff is getting confusing, though, so who knows. I was randomly told yesterday that I've been transferred to a different division, where I'll be teaching an online curriculum to children after school? But like, they have given me no info about it whatsoever, and school starts in a week? So, yeah. Confusing.

Anyway! This chapter. I honestly have no idea what is going on in this story anymore, as I've not been reading it before posting, because otherwise I'll never end up posting these chapters. I, apparently, wrote an author's note back when I wrote the chapter, so hopefully that explains things better than I am now. Also, the chapter title comes from an old country song I like, A Man Holding On (To A Woman Letting Go), by Ty Herndon. Who, I learned recently, is the rare gay country singer. Good for him, honestly. I don't think this chapter has anything to do with the song, I just liked the title.

Enjoy!

Let it never be said that there wasn't something incredibly intimate and sensual about waking up, arms full of the man you (not so) secretly were in love with.

Christ. It was incredible. So warm and beautiful and just… perfect.

Merlin was perfect, Arthur thought softly, eyes drinking in the soft sleeping face. The way his eye lashes fluttered on his pale cheeks. The way his breath puffed out, causing Arthur's borrowed shirt to shudder. He'd always known it, but Gwaine truly was the biggest idiot in Albion for throwing this away. To think the other man could have woken to this, held this, and still elected to break up with him. Barmy. Completely mad.

The only way it would have been more perfect was if he had been in the position to be able to do something about the warm length that was pressed firmly to his thigh, teasing him as its presence made itself known. As it was, he had to settled for sleepy fantasies, desires that would have him blushing and embarrassed, if he weren't so warm and sleepy and comfortable.

He wanted the moment to last forever. Despite his best efforts, he hadn't been able to forget the previous night, heart breaking as he remembered Merlin's rage. Merlin, for as emotional as he was, didn't often break down. Arthur hadn't seen it in a year; not since Gwaine had nearly died. It had been almost terrifying, seeing the wave of energy wash around him, pushing everything but him back. It was funny. He had expected to at least feel the usual warmth from the charm he wore, but it hadn't pinged even as the room was destroyed.

His heart had pounded though, as he felt the wave of anguish and pain that had pulsed around him. It had been agony to see and feel, his heart shattering as he saw Merlin break down.

He didn't care what Merlin said. He would not forgive Gwaine for adding yet another weight onto Merlin's thin shoulders. He had read the letter (he hadn't meant to, had just meant to pull it away, but his curiosity and concern had forced him to read the damned thing. All things considered, it had been a sweet letter, full of sorrow and regret, but Arthur didn't care. It had hurt Merlin. Gwaine had hurt Merlin, despite Arthur's threats, and so he would have to pay) and had felt his heart break for the man. After everything. After all that had happened. Now this? It was like the universe was purposely trying to shit on the man. It was ridiculous.

On top of all that, on the pain he'd witness the night before… he realized that he really had missed Merlin. Oh, he saw the man every single day, of course. But he never really got to speak with him. Was just forced to watch as Merlin was pulled thinner and thinner from the various responsibilities he had been thrust into. The rebellions had taken their toll mentally on his friend, but he had no idea how to make it better. No idea what he could possibly do to take some strain off the prince.

Holding him… whispering sweet words of devotion… laying his heart out, bear, for the man to see but not feeling afraid of rejection… it was so incredible. He hated himself for it, but part of him had danced with joy at the heartfelt look Merlin had given him, eyes full of pain but locked completely on his. He didn't know why he suggested a picnic, of all things, but the way Merlin had responded… his voice breathy and eyes bright… even the man's fear that they couldn't because of his duties didn't dampen the way Arthur's heart had soared. He'd move heaven and hell to make that picnic happen. He didn't care who he had to kill.

Okay... maybe not kill. Mildly wound? Maim? Threaten? That was likely better.

Arthur was pulled from his musings as Merlin shuffled, soft snuffling sounds coming from his throat. It was so utterly adorable that Arthur could only watch, heart aching and full. Then he had to stifle his groan, as Merlin pressed his groin more firmly to his thigh, nearly humping him lightly. Fucking hell.

The man was still asleep. He knew that. It was still agony, Merlin's breathing hitching as he pressed closer and then moved away, again and again, like the waves on the shore that he'd seen once and only once. He didn't want to wake the man, knowing he needed sleep, but he felt so discombobulated and warm inside that he was going to burst if the man didn't stop.

Thankfully, mercifully, he did. Merlin settled against his side a moment later, sighing happily as he pressed in as close as he could. Like he was trying to burrow into his very core. Arthur could feel a hand grasp his shirt so tightly, holding on for dear life.

If he were to die that moment, he knew that he would die a very happy man.

Arthur absently raised his hand and let his fingers run through Merlin's hair, petting the man like he'd always longed to do. It was so soft, he marveled, watching as the inky strands hid his pale white digits under their darkness. The moment was so incredibly intimate and private that Arthur never, ever wanted it to end.

Of course, it had to. Everything ended, eventually. But the moment that followed was almost just as good. Maybe even better.

He could feel Merlin start to stir against him, the sun starting to rise behind the blinds he had closed but still let some light through, which hopefully meant it had stopped raining. Merlin had told him once that he rose with the sun, the energy causing his magic to stir within him. His fingers were still rubbing softly through the prince's hair. He knew he should stop his ministrations, taking too much, much more than Merlin had gifted, but he found he couldn't. He could only watch and listen as Merlin snuffled softly, rubbing his face firmly against Arthur's broad chest, eyes still shut tight against the small amounts of light that were filling the room despite the heavy blinds.

He was so adorable. Like a puppy or kitten, mewling in sleep. Arthur didn't think his heart could take much more of this. But he was helpless to look away, helpless to detach himself. It was just so utterly perfect.

Arthur could tell the instant Merlin realized that something was different and wrong. Most people wouldn't have been able to tell, but he was pressed so tightly to the man, as well as knew him so very well, that he could feel the barely noticeable stiffening as Merlin realized he wasn't alone. Heart beginning to pound lightly, Arthur licked his lips and nosed at Merlin's head, eyes closing as his nose was invaded by the thick scent of flowers, nature, sweat, horse, and something he couldn't begin to describe. Something that he figured was just… Merlin. He knew it was creepy, going around smelling people, but god, he couldn't help it. There was just something so familiar and homely about the scent that he couldn't help but crave it.

"Good morning, my prince," he muttered a moment later, voice husky and thick with sleep. He felt Merlin stiffen further, having a moment to fear that he was about to get kicked out of bed and yelled at for taking liberties with a Royal, but his fears were assuaged when Merlin practically melted against him, soft moan on his breath.

Jesus Christ. This man would be the death of him.

"Arthur," Merlin breathed, breath hitching when Arthur tugged his hair gently in reply, not meaning to but finding he couldn't help it as his groin filled with blood at the intoxicating sounds Merlin was making. The breathy gasps. The tiny shudders of breath. Fuck.

"Are you feeling better?" He muttered against the head that was pressing against his chest, before it gently leaned up against his chin in response to his question. The man practically purred as Arthur petted his hair, languid and boneless. Oh, fuck.

"Mmmm," was all Merlin could say, nodding slowly against his chest. Arthur couldn't help the whine that he released, high pitched and yearning. Oh, he wanted so badly in that moment. Wanted to push Merlin onto his back and kiss his breath away. To kiss those lips and consume the tiny sounds that the man was making, driving him crazy, his head swimming with sensation. He wanted to put his hands on that lithe body, fingers running over the skin he'd felt yesterday but hadn't been allowed to truly touch. But god, did he want to touch. Every single inch. His mouth following, leaving little bruises of love in his wake, the man beneath him moaning so prettily, so beautifully. And then... his mouth heading south… lips pressed against the bulge he'd seen many times but was never allowed to look at. To touch.

He wondered what Merlin would taste like as he came.

Ooookay, time to disengage from this situation. He'd had his fun, but now he was truly taking too many liberties.

It wasn't that he thought Merlin would be opposed to the idea, he figured mildly, as he felt Merlin hold tight and whine when he tried to pull away. In fact, he had the feeling that Merlin would welcome the ministrations, would moan so prettily and lovely, voice screaming his name as he came. After all, he knew where the man's preferences lied, and Arthur was humble enough to recognize that he, himself, was a stunning man. He'd looked in the mirror, sometimes, admiring his own physique. Not that he'd ever admit that, mind.

So, Merlin likely wouldn't complain. Would probably even welcome it.

But it wasn't right.

And, he admitted privately, smile unbidden on his lips as he shushed the other man, pulling away as gently as he could, it wasn't how he wanted their first time to go. He was still so conflicted and confused about his feelings, and Merlin's feelings, but the one thing he knew was that it was bigger than anything else he had ever felt. He had thought he'd loved Gwen, once. And he was sure he had. Still did, to some extent. But it paled in comparison to the emotion he was feeling currently. The last time he'd been in Fayford, he'd seen Gwen kissing Lancelot, which at one point would have angered and hurt him. All he had felt, at the time, was happiness for his friend. Maybe a hint of sorrow as he thought of what could have been, but it wasn't anything major.

If he saw Merlin kiss another man, now… it had been agony before, when he hadn't even realized the scope of his feelings. He was pretty sure he'd kill anyone who dared kiss that which was his. Not that Merlin belonged to him, just, well… you get it.

Point was, it mattered. So much. So very, very much. He wasn't going to ruin or risk it by jumping into things. That's where Gwaine had gone wrong. He'd jumped into sex, thinking it was all he wanted from the man before him. Arthur was far more patient. Cunning. He knew that if he wanted Merlin… playing the long con was the way to go. He would court him, he decided, stretching as he sat. Not noticeably, he wouldn't give the game away. But he'd be bolder. Freer with his affections. He hadn't even realized how much he'd bottled up, keeping away out of respect for Gwaine and Merlin's pseudo relationship.

And yes, they had bigger fish to fry. Arthur still hadn't become the person he needed to, that his kingdom needed him to be. But he was so, so tired of restricting himself so terribly. Of holding back.

He wasn't ashamed to admit, in the dim light of Merlin's bedroom, staring down at the sleepy form of the man he so desperately loved, that he wanted the prince so frantically, so all encompassing. Merlin was just so… well. Merlin. Beautiful, kind, emotional, funny, silly, adorable, sweet, loving… like, the list went on and on.

And he had some bad traits. Arthur knew that. He was stubborn. Fickle. Indecisive. Overly emotional. Quick to rile. Could be callus and cruel, when he chose to be. More that he likely wasn't think of in the moment. But those weren't flaws, Arthur felt, smiling helplessly as sleepy eyes blinked up at him, adorable pout on his too pink lips. They were just… character traits. Things that made him more interesting. Exciting.

He had no idea where this would lead them. If it would crash and burn, or if it would save them all. The one thing he knew, as he quickly changed back into the previous day's clothes, light blush on his cheeks as he remembered his gall as he stripped slowly for the prince's eyes only, was that he was so very excited to see where this all would lead. He wouldn't burden Merlin with a new relationship. Not now, not when he had so much on his plate. When both of them had so much on their plate. But he could lighten the load, could give him something nice, something good to hold onto.

Like… friends plus. Not quite friends. Not quite lovers. Was there a word for that? Best friends didn't quite have the right ring to it. Platonic lovers? Hmm, definitely not. He supposed it didn't matter. Labels were meaningless when feelings were involved. To him, at least.

Regardless, he felt his heart race as Merlin sat up, sleep rumpled and adorable. He longed to cross the mere feet between them, to weave his hand into the silky locks and tug, watching with heavy eyes as Merlin gasped, pink lips falling open, wide and pretty and-

Okay. Point was, he wanted. So badly. But he couldn't. Not then. Not while they had so much to do. They couldn't afford to be distracted now.

But they could allow themselves to get closer. To lean on one another. To rely on one another. The Dragon had told him they were the same coin, after all. They were destined to be close forevermore. If that was something Merlin wanted, which Arthur hoped he did. Arthur was strong enough to prop Merlin up. To be his strength when he felt weak. To be there, a steady anchor, when the world crumbled around him.

Maybe this was what his destiny had always entailed, he mused, Merlin standing on unsteady feet, grimacing at the frigid stone floor. Supporting Merlin as he fought the rebels, being his bridge over stormy waters.

Ordinarily, Arthur would be beating himself for his sappy thoughts. For his poetic musings. But he couldn't help it and didn't want to help it. This morning was so removed from reality that he never wanted to go back to the real world if this fantasy one was so very nice. A fantasy where he could let the love that he held in his heart free, not fearing rejection or pain or heartbreak. He'd always been so careful with his heart, guarding it even against the ones he loved so fiercely. It was, he privately admitted, one of the reasons he and Gwen had never worked. He had always blamed Lancelot, but he knew the only reason Gwen turned to another was because he couldn't offer the girl the emotional support she truly needed. He tried, but he just… had a mental block.

He didn't, here. In this moment. In the moment as Merlin pouted at him, whining about something silly. About breakfast or something. He was glad that no one was coming with new news about the rebels, the morning strangely peaceful. He wanted it to last forever; though this, too, would fade. It might be hard to remember, even, in the coming days, how peaceful this moment had felt.

Despite himself, despite how he tried to fight it, Arthur couldn't help the way his body gravitated towards Merlin, arms wrapping around the man before he could tell himself to stop. If he even could have stopped if he tried. He felt Merlin freeze in his arms for a split second, before he melted, head slotting onto his shoulder, arms wrapped tight around his waist. He didn't know why he had felt the intense desire to hold Merlin close, but he couldn't help it. Though, maybe that was a bit of a lie. He'd always felt the desire to hold Merlin. He just wasn't able to deny it at the moment.

"This is nice," the prince mumbled against him, stiffening as soon as the words were released. Like he regretted them. Arthur just held him tighter and pressed his lips to the inky hair under his chin, humming in agreement. He knew that Merlin was the same height as him, so he logically knew it must be uncomfortable for the man to scrunch himself up in such a way. But the prince didn't seem to mind, melting like butter against him, a high-pitched keen released from his throat. And he certainly wasn't about to complain. It felt so nice to wrap his arms around the other man. Why had he denied both of them this sensation for over a year now? He was a fool. An utter fool.

Eventually he had to pull back as a knock sounded on the door, at last. Merlin stiffened but pulled back regardless. Arthur mourned the loss of his warmth, even as crossed the room to open the door to see who it was.

It was a guard, eyes blank as he informed Arthur that the king requested Merlin's presence. Of course he did, Arthur thought bitterly, but nodded. He watched as the guard left, before turning back to Merlin, who was already sighing and heading over to his wardrobe. Arthur made a note to have some food sent to the courtroom before the meeting began, since the prince hadn't had anything to eat yet.

"I suppose I better see what's happening now," Merlin stared listlessly, shrugging off his sleep shirt and trousers without a care. Arthur moved forward, like a magnet, and helped the man as he put on his court robes. Merlin didn't complain like he usually would have, just let Arthur do his thing, only a soft sigh showcasing his mild displeasure.

"It's a sunny day today," Arthur commented, looking out the window that Merlin had opened with a thought. A small breeze was blowing into the room, the chill pleasant in the toasty room. Merlin hummed. "Once court is over, we should head out. Have our picnic."

Merlin let out a noise of complaint, but Arthur just shook his head, soft smile on his lips.

"Hush. Your duties can wait an hour. It's not good to work yourself to death, Merlin."

Merlin rolled his eyes and stuck out his (tantalizing) tongue but said nothing in opposition. Silence reigned for several minutes until the man was finally dressed, shifting the crown on his head with a frown.

"I will likely have to make rounds of the lower town first. But… but after. During the afternoon. I would… well, I would be honored to join you on a picnic, by the lake. If you'd like that," Merlin muttered, cheeks bright red. It was terribly endearing. Arthur tried to stifle his laugh but knew he failed as Merlin glared at him.

"Well, I was the one to invite you, wasn't I?" He teased, grin wide on his face. Merlin scowled with exaggerated anger, though his eyes danced with mirth.

"Well, if you're going to be like that, now I don't want to go," Merlin declared, pouting adorably. Arthur felt his grin widen. He wrapped his arms around the prince (helpless to stop himself. Not that he wanted to, mind), and pouted exaggeratedly back.

"Oh, don't be like that, my prince. I'm sorry," he crooned, eyes wide and innocent. Merlin couldn't help but burst out laughing, which had been Arthur's intent. Smiling like the cat that got the canary, Arthur stepped back and smiled smugly.

"You are such a prat," Merlin exclaimed, though his eyes shone. So much better than the dim hopelessness that had filled them after the guard's appearance, he privately felt.

Oh, how he longed to kiss Merlin, who wore that soft, private smile on his face. A smile meant only for him. He wanted to kiss him until they both were breathless and panting, aching with want and desire, pleading for release.

One day, he promised himself. One day he'd know what that glorious mouth tasted like. One day he would claim that endless skin as his own. One day he would be able to call Merlin his, only his.

Until then, he promised, he would stand by the prince's side. He'd support him and build him up, silently if he had to. He'd be the steady pillar he needed as the foundation beneath his feet shifted and crumbled.

After all.

There was more to love than just kisses.

~XoxoxoxoxoxoX~

Court lasted a long time.

Arthur was starting to get nervous as the hours ticked away and the courtroom had yet to adjourn. It must be serious, today. Likely going over the death count. Arthur pushed the thought away, stomach churning.

Despite the words he had told to Merlin all those months ago, he honestly had no idea if his father was involved in everything or not. He'd been pestering Morgana so much about any other visions she might have seen that the girl had promised to castrate him in his sleep if he asked even one more time. Knowing not to take her threats lightly, he listened, though he was still uneasy.

Before all this, he had thought maybe the rebels weren't so bad. After all, he privately understood their point. As much as he loved and trusted Merlin, Balinor was another creature altogether. He probably trusted Balinor as far as he could throw him, and while Arthur was strong, Balinor seemed pretty sturdy to him. Back when all the rebels did was vandalize, it had almost seemed tame. Simple. He'd hated how it ate away at Merlin, how it tore Merlin away from him, but it hadn't seemed, you know. Serious.

This, however. This was.

He was not the biggest fan of magical people. Don't mistake him, now. He had suffered enough under magical hands to know he could never truly like or trust the vast majority of magical people. But to kill them? Outright, straight up, kill them?

No. He didn't approve of that. It wasn't… well, it wasn't right.

He did wonder how they managed to attack a magical town, though. After all, if it was the rebels, he doubted they would attack a non-magical town. Unless…

Well, unless Balinor was lying and the attack was fake, done to stir up anger towards the rebels.

It was possible. He'd honestly thought of it, when Balinor had informed Merlin of it the night before. However… the look in the king's eyes. The suppressed panic and rage. The hidden fear. If he had created the attack to trick people into hating the rebels, he was a damn good liar.

Regardless, Arthur was left waiting, restless, as the hours ticked away. He'd already sent for a picnic lunch to be curated for later, smiling handsomely at the cook as he enticed her to pack a nice meal into a picnic basket for the prince for later, after he'd requested she send him a small breakfast to the courtroom. The cook had given him a knowing look, but begrudgingly agreed. He'd smiled winsomely, thanking the cantankerous woman profusely. He could have sworn he saw her blush, even as she rolled her eyes and threatened him with her spoon if he didn't stop bothering her. Ha. Still had it.

He had then gone to Freya, having likely spent more time around the young woman than Merlin did those day.

Usually they spoke about Merlin. About how worried they both were about him, about how wane he looked. Occasionally Freya would grumble about something Morgana did that bothered her, causing Arthur to hum in sympathy. After all, who knew better than him Morgana's nasty streak? He knew that Freya loved his sister (god knew why,) and that Morgana loved her back. But even if you love someone with all your heart, the other person can still annoy you to no end. He'd learned that often over the past year and a half.

It honestly was very girly, like two gossiping housewives, but he didn't mind too much. Freya was good company.

That day, however, he had a request. He'd complained to the girl frequently how stressed Merlin was, the girl sharing in his worry. When he asked her, that day, if she would be able to convince the king to let Merlin have the afternoon off so they could go out together (leaving out the part about the picnic, not wanting the girl to read too much into things), her eyes had shined and she'd thrown her arms around him tightly.

"You are amazing for him, thank you," she's breathed. He was stunned even as he tentatively placed his arms around the girl. He… hadn't really done anything? Still, he had smiled bemusedly and thanked her. Luckily, she agreed and promised that Merlin would have more than enough time off.

Now it was a couple hours until lunch time, Merlin still wanting to do his rounds before they would be able to leave the citadel, and the man was still trapped in the meeting.

Just as he was about to start worrying, feeling his feet itching to pace back and forth, the doors opened and the members of Court spilled out, muttering darkly to one another. Gaius was one of the last to exit, the man not an official Court member, but often being requested to join to share his opinion about various diseases or health risks. Gaius looked highly concerned, eyes tight and distant. He still smiled, though, when he saw Arthur. It was tight, though. Troubled.

"Gaius. What's going on?" He questioned, voice low to stop anyone from overheating. Gaius sighed, looking around.

"I can't tell you here. Later," Gaius promised. Arthur growled, frustrated.

"Gaius," Arthur warned, eyes flashing. Gaius exhaled, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"It's a matter of security, Arthur. Besides, I'm sure Merlin will tell you all about it later. Now, do you care to explain to me why you never came home last night? Hmm? I was worried, you know."

Face blushing bright red, Arthur looked down, mumbling something incoherent. He didn't even know what, something about it not being the older man's business. Gaius hummed.

"That's what I thought. I should get going. The king has requested I make several potions and I seem to have lost my apprentice," Gaius chided, eyes staring at him with meaning. Arthur suddenly felt bad. With how busy Merlin had been, Arthur rarely had time to help the older man out as he followed the prince on his wild goose chases. He opened his mouth to apologize, promises on his tongue that he would try harder to find time, when Gaius tutted. "Oh, I don't mind. I understand your situation. Still, I should get going. And please, Arthur. Spare an old man his worry and at least have Merlin send a charm letting me know you're with him next time, will you?"

Before Arthur could splutter out a denial, Gaius waltzed away, humming innocently under his breath. Arthur scowled. Bastard. He'd headed back to his room earlier to change clothes, before coming to wait for Merlin, so at least the older man didn't see him wearing the same outfit he'd worn the day before. That would have been even more awkward.

It still took several more minutes before Merlin finally slunk out, eyes dark and worried. It made Arthur's heart clench to see. Sadly, he couldn't do anything while in public, guards all around. Couldn't go up to the boy and wrap him in a warm embrace like he longed to, holding tight until that dark look in his eyes faded. He settled on a soft smile, eyes full of the emotion he couldn't express. He liked to think Merlin noticed, as the boy looked up and smiled at Arthur slightly. It didn't erase the worry in his eyes, but he looked slightly happier, which he considered a win in his books.

"What shall we do now, sire," he questioned softly, as respectful as he could possibly be. Merlin hummed, shrugging.

"Father wants me to head into the lower town and begin to hand out supplies and gather news on how the townspeople are taking the news of the lockdown. From there, I'm to begin an investigation of the castle staff. I… I'm going to have to search your room. I have no doubt that you would never have illegal items, but in case you do… don't."

Arthur almost wanted to laugh, but reined it in, nodding solemnly instead.

"Perhaps..." he muttered, as quietly as he could, lips beside Merlin's ear as the pair began to walk out. He outwardly ignored the shudder Merlin gave, but inwardly was extremely pleased. "Perhaps we could head out before the investigation. I've requested Freya talk to the king, to allow you some time off. I understand if you say no, but-"

"No," Merlin stated, making Arthur's heart drop. The prince grimaced before shaking his head sharply. "I meant, yes, I think that would work. As long as I finish my duty in the lower town before noon, I should be able to sneak away for an hour. But only an hour, Arthur. No more," he warned, though a smile had made its way on his face. Arthur smiled softly back, before turning away, face expressionless as they passed some guards and wandering Nobles. The Nobles tried to get Merlin's attention, but he'd smiled tightly and claimed he was on important business from the king, sorry.

After that Arthur trailed after the prince, watching as he dealt with the townspeople, smiling sweetly at the little old ladies who were worried about family who lived outside the citadel, or humming sympathetically at the mothers who worried about the food they had left for their children to eat. No matter what anyone might say about Merlin and his qualities of being a good prince, he truly was amazing around his people. It was clear how much they all loved and trusted him, as he was even handed an infant child once, a woman so emotional with fear for her eldest son, who had gone off on a trip to a distant village to visit a friend and had not returned before the citadel was closed, that she had burst into tears and wasn't able to hold the child without fear of dropping it. Merlin looked strangely good, holding an infant, though his eyes were wide as he tried to keep the thing from fussing.

It thankfully hadn't taken long, though, the entire thing done before the sun had reached its zenith. Storm clouds were brewing on the horizon, promising rain later that evening, but for now it was bright sunshine. Hopefully the rain would hold out until after they had returned back to the castle so they wouldn't get drenched again that night.

Arthur then headed to the kitchen by himself to get the picnic basket Cook had packed for him, her eyes rolling when he thanked her sweetly, though her cheeks grew slightly ruddier. He honestly didn't know if he should be proud or freaked out, but he pushed it out of his mind as he rushed to the area Merlin had told him to meet at.

His heart began to race as he reached the location, a small tunnel beneath the castle. Merlin was waiting for him, smile on his face.

"I've spoken to father. He says it's fine for me to take the hour off for lunch. I think Freya spoke with him; he had that look on his face he always has when Freya begged him for something when we were kids. A slightly put upon but fond look," Merlin stated as Arthur rounded the corner, smile bright on his face. There was still some tension in his shoulders, but Arthur was determined to make that tension fade away before the hour was out.

Arthur followed Merlin as they slunk through the small tunnel, Merlin knowing the way to go expertly. They eventually reached a small gate, but Merlin just took out one of his magic keys and unlocked it, the thing opening without complaint. Benefits of being prince, Arthur thought, pleased.

The pair were careful as they slid through the forest, Merlin loosening more and more the further they walked from the castle. Finally, after about ten minutes, the pair ended up in front of the lake, Merlin looking more relaxed than he had in months. Brilliant. This had been a wonderful idea.

The ground was still slightly damp from the rain the previous night and early morning, but Merlin muttered some words and the ground dried. At least in the area Arthur spread the blanket out over. The air was cold, the late February day nippy, but Merlin muttered another spell and the air warmed significantly. Not too much to be toasty, but warm enough that he was no longer shivering lightly. God. Magic was a wonder sometimes.

Arthur carefully unpacked the food he'd requested from Cook, smiling lightly as he noticed she'd added a decadent chocolate cake as a dessert. And a bottle of wine, he noted, eyebrow raised. Okay. Perhaps he was a little too obvious in his affections for the prince. Oops

Merlin hummed happily as Arthur set out the spread, gasping when he saw the cake. Arthur grinned. Merlin had always loved the chocolate cake Cook made, enthusing over it whenever the older woman had treated him with its decadence. Arthur didn't blame him. The first time he'd tried the chocolate cake he'd almost orgasmed, it was so fucking good. So much sweeter than anything he'd ever eaten, yet also so bitter and rich. He'd never had chocolate before, so he had no way to expect how it would taste. Merlin had turned bright red at the indecent sound Arthur had let out, eyes hazy as his mouth had opened in shock. Just remembering the look on the prince's face was making Arthur feel indecent himself, so he cleared his throat and kept setting up the meal, pouring a healthy amount of wine in the glasses Cook had provided them, ignoring the questioning look Merlin gave him.

It was when he had finished setting up and sat down on one of the pillows he had packed that he began to feel nervous. It wasn't until that moment that he realized how much this, well… felt like a date. He'd never really gone on many dates, him and Gwen mostly just pussyfooting around one another, though he had manned up enough to take her out a few times. This, though… this felt so similar, and yet so different to those few times. Better, if he was being honest. Incredible.

Merlin had a soft blush on his face, though he was smiling brightly at Arthur, eyes shining in the noonday sun. It was intoxicating. He took a sip of his wine, savoring the bitter liquid as it took a little of the edge off his intense feelings. It was like a whole herd of butterflies had just burst from cocoons and were writhing in his chest. It was unbearably unpleasant, yet at the same time so utterly incredible.

"Come on. You, uh. Should eat something. I know you didn't have much for breakfast, after all," Arthur finally stated, wincing a little at the unromantic words. He wasn't trying to woo Merlin, per se, but still. Jeez, man.

Merlin just rolled his eyes, a teasing grin rising on his face.

"And whose fault is that, hmm? My lousy manservant forgot to get me my food this morning," Merlin sniffed, nose dramatically in the air, in a scarily accurate mimic of the haute Nobles. Arthur couldn't help but laugh, even as he took another sip of the rich wine. Merlin laughed too, cheeks rosy once again.

"Hey! I remembered to have Cook send you a little something before the meeting, at least. And sorry for my forgetfulness. I was a little distracted this morning," he leered, grin wide and sharp. Merlin rolled his eyes, even as he smiled and blushed in response.

After that Merlin accepted the food Arthur gave to him, rolling his eyes but smiling so wide it must hurt. He didn't drink much of his wine (likely a good thing, Arthur remembering how quickly the man became drunk the one and only time they'd drunk heavily together. He'd been more drunk than Arthur and Arthur had drunk at least ten shots of whisky in less than an hour. He was such a lightweight), but he devoured the cake, barely leaving any for Arthur. Arthur had shouted in faux anger, secure that no one would hear them with Merlin's silencing charm, but Merlin had just laughed. Then Arthur had smeared some of the cake on Merlin's nose and had to resist the temptation to lick it off. It had still been strangely erotic watching Merlin go cross eyed as he tried to lick it with his long, pink tongue. Hm. His mind went to a dark place as he mused all the things that tongue could do to him...

All in all, it was a nice afternoon. Once the food was gone the men just chatted, Merlin doing most of the talking as he enthused about this or that. He was usually a chatterbox, but alcohol loosened his tongue even more. Arthur didn't care. He was enjoying himself immensely, lounging against one of the pillows he had brought, smiling a besotted smile as the man ranted about bees, of all things.

"They're just so small! But cute! But deadly! I want to hold them and pet them, but if I do they sting me! How is that fair, Arthur? How?"

He was struggling so hard not to laugh, but his face was aching with the smile he wore.

This was perfect, to him. Yes, maybe part of him still longed to lean over and kiss Merlin, to ravish him and claim the man as his. But honestly? If he never got to kiss Merlin? If this was the best he ever got? If they never, not once, not even when this whole thing was over, did anything passed cuddling?

He wouldn't actually mind.

Maybe that was strange. And maybe he'd change his mind, over time. But maybe not. Because, well… he was sure sex was good and all, but he'd never had it. He was sure he could live without it (though his hand would get a lot of company…). Sure, it would be nice. Part of him ached for it, deep inside, if he was being honest. But this? Being with Merlin, no consequences, no worries, no fear? Loving him freely, openly, even if he had never said the words? And being shown, at the very least, affection and adoration in return?

It was worth more than any sexual act ever could.

Honestly. He firmly believed that, as he watched Merlin lean back and laugh, the tension and anxiety from earlier faded completely in light of their… well, their date. Knowing that he was cause of that happiness, that he had turned the man from a screaming pile of rage the previous night, back into his normal, happy-go-lucky self? It was better than any potion, any drug; any sensation he'd ever felt.

Could sex really be better than this feeling?

(Well. Maybe if he could have sex and this feeling, it would be even more perfect. But Arthur wasn't a greedy man. He'd learned long ago, after hours and hours of toiling work in the fields. After months of hunger and starvation. He had learned to appreciate the little things. The small miracles, as his mother called them. And this? Having Merlin, happy and healthy, in any form? It was more than a small miracle. So he wouldn't be greedy. He wouldn't dare ask for more. And if he somehow, one day, got more? Then he'd be thankful and grateful then. But he wouldn't let his happiness die just because he yearned for more. He'd spent enough years miserable to learn that.)

"You look so serious. Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?" Merlin mused, bringing Arthur's attention back on him. He opened his mouth to say that yes, Merlin, of course he had been listening, except, well. He realized he actually didn't have any idea what Merlin had been talking about. He remembered the bees, and the conversation switching to flowers, but he'd somehow tuned out at some point, the man's chatter washing over him completely. It wasn't really that he wasn't listening. It was that the words said didn't matter.

Wait, no! He didn't mean it like… ugh, he thought mentally, shaking his head. He meant that it hadn't been the words he was focusing on, but the meaning. The tone. The happy lilt, the flushed cheeks. The bell-like laugh, tinkling in the soft breeze that was pleasantly cool in Merlin's bubble, not frigid like he was sure it was outside this slice of heaven. He had been so focused on what truly mattered that he hadn't been listening to the words spoken. That wasn't what was important, to him. Maybe that was rude, but he honestly felt that.

God. He was such a besotted, enamored fool, wasn't he? Christ. There was a time he'd have clammed up at the thought and stormed out, insulting Merlin to regain his masculinity.

Yet…

Yet he couldn't forget the heartbroken look on the prince's face the previous night. The sorrow. The intense pain. He could see it so vividly, even as Merlin looked at him fondly, so tender it hurt. He couldn't lose that, he realized, eyes wide. He'd do anything to keep that look on the man's face. To keep him unburdened. Untethered.

Happy.

Loved.

God. Arthur felt a rush of panic flood him at that moment, shrugging at Merlin and flopping onto his back to look at the sky, stomach roiling.

He'd never loved someone so much. Not even his own mother. He'd always kept himself distant, keeping a barrier between him and the ones he loved. It had hurt Gwen, he knew. Hurt Gwaine. It had even hurt himself, at times, though he had no idea how to stop it. He was just so tired of hurting others. Of hurting himself. Of being hurt.

This could hurt him. God, it could hurt him. The way he felt, for Merlin… it made him ache inside. Made him yearn. Even the thought of Merlin's pain hurt him inside. He'd do anything. Anything. To spare the man that pain. Even tear out his own heart.

Was that love? Was he in love? Or was he cursed? Oh, God... what if he was cursed? Ensorcelled? What if Merlin-

But no. No. Merlin wouldn't do that to him. Merlin was good, and kind, and loving.

Though, a voice whispered inside him. Wouldn't that be what he'd want you to believe? If he was enchanting you?

Arthur hesitated, looking up at the clouds that went by. He could feel Merlin settle beside him, silent for the first time that afternoon. Part of him hated it. Wanted to make the man smile and laugh again. To hear those words wash over him.

But what if it was a trick? A lie? Did people normally feel like this? Was it love? Or was it magic?

He wished he could ask. Part of him wanted to, even opening his mouth absently, before closing it. Shit. He couldn't ask Merlin. What good would that even do? Idiot.

But if not Merlin, who? Morgana was strictly out of the question. Hell. No. He'd rather be tortured a thousand years than ask his sister any sort of romantic advice. Freya maybe, but she loved Merlin too much to really be objective. Maybe his mother, but this wasn't the sort of thing one asked in a letter. Plus, she didn't know Merlin enough to give a fully unbiased answer, either.

And the minute he asked that damned Dragon about anything relating love was the minute he handed over his balls and became a woman. Basically, when hell froze over. (Don't get him wrong, he loved women. Respected many of them. But he had no desire to be one himself, thanks. He liked being a man.)

Well… there was one person to ask. One person he trusted more than anything, save maybe Merlin himself. One person he viewed like family, though their blood was not shared.

Gaius. Of course, Gaius. The older man wouldn't judge him. Yes, he knew Merlin and loved Merlin, so maybe he wouldn't be completely unbiased, but he trusted the man enough to not lie to or coddle him. Much. He'd be truthful and maybe help him as he tried to figure out how he felt. And he knew both men well enough to understand both sides. He'd know how to help.

But as for that moment… Arthur looked over at Merlin, who was looking at the sky with a small frown on his face. Arthur's heart clenched at the expression. Knowing he was the cause of it. Him and his insecurities. It wasn't even that he didn't trust Merlin. He did! He really did. It was just, well. Just that he didn't trust his emotions. He'd never felt like this before. He was confused and scared. Could he trust these feelings? He didn't know.

But he wasn't going to let that ruin their day together. He pushed aside the fear, the part of him that screamed he was being a fool and turned to face Merlin, soft smile on his face. Merlin turned absently to face him, a strained smile on his lips, even as his eyebrows furrowed. Arthur longed for reach out and smooth the wrinkled brow. To erase the worry and fear.

So, he did.

Merlin instantly relaxed under his hand, sighing happily as Arthur's hand moved from his forehead to his cheek, palming the warm skin with a smile on his lips. Merlin hummed happily as his eyes closed, his face pressed firmly against Arthur's palm. It was so unbelievably sweet and perfect that Arthur ached. It terrified him. He had come to terms with his love before, but this… this was different. This was so Much. So powerful and strong and raw. To think that he could have this… to have and hold... to be given the privilege of being held in high enough regard to see the prince off his pedestal and from behind his wall, seeing the raw and tender person beneath?

It was impossible. What had he done to earn this? While the world fell apart, as it crumbled. What had he done to earn such happiness?

After all, Gwaine had been right, all those moons ago. To be loved by Merlin was a priceless gift.

Maybe that's why he didn't trust it. Things this good didn't happen to people like him. To farm boys who were too prideful for their own good. It couldn't be real.

Or, even if it was real… he'd find a way to mess it up. He'd squander it. Ruin it. Defile it.

He didn't want to ruin Merlin. He couldn't.

Arthur held tighter to the man before him and leaned in. He could hear Merlin's breath hitch, which made his stomach churn. He pressed his forehead to Merlin's and closed his eyes, allowing himself to just exist. Merlin didn't rush him. Just sat and hummed softly, the sound so soothing Arthur almost wanted to fall asleep.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he mumbled. He hadn't even realized he'd said it aloud until Merlin hummed thoughtfully, moving closer to his warm body.

"I don't know if anyone does. I think we're all just, I don't know. Fumbling around in the dark. Trying to figure out what pleases us. What doesn't. All we can do, I guess, is… well, try. To be happy. Things are bad outside. Father… he said that five people died in the attack, twenty others injured, some children. I'll have to deal with that, soon. But for now… all we can hope for is to find some happiness, any happiness, wherever we can. And you… you make me happy, Arthur. You truly do."

Well, just trample all over the remains of Arthur's girly heart, why don't you?

"You know Merlin, sometimes you surprise me. There are times when you seem almost… but no. Decidedly not," Arthur mused lightly, even as his heart stuttered and his mind blanked. He wanted to make light of the situation, even as everything in him screamed to be serious for once. It was too much, though. He needed some relief. Or else he'd straight up kiss that wonderful man. Merlin smiled back.

"Seem like what?" Merlin breathed, teasing smile on his face as he shifted impossibly closer. Arthur struggled to keep his face neutral, even as he longed to hold the other man and never let go.

"Seem almost, well… wise. Ridiculous, I know. You, wise? Ha!"

Merlin burst out laughing, eyes filled with joy and his smile so warm and happy it burned him.

"Oh yeah, decidedly not. Me, wise? Where'd you ever get an idea like that? Barmy," Merlin muttered, shaking his head in faux disappointment.

The silence that followed was a good one, for once. Easy. Pleasant.

Eventually, though, the bubble burst. Merlin sighed and sat up, stretching his sore muscles. It was then that he remembered Merlin had only promised him an hour and the hour was almost done. It made him ache deep inside, but maybe it was for the better. Any longer and he'd do something very stupid, like kiss the prince.

"I wish we could stay here forever. I really, really do. But I've got my duties to attend to. Father will be pissed if I don't. He'd also probably send a search party after me, and that would be no fun. But maybe..." Merlin paused, face uncertain. Arthur hummed softly in encouragement, causing the other man to smile. "Well. I was just thinking maybe we could do this again sometime. Maybe not any time soon, since we're going to be so busy over the next several weeks. But if we have the chance again. I really, well. Enjoyed it. Being here. With you. I mean, I-"

"I'd love to," Arthur interjected, before Merlin could ramble any longer and get more and more flustered. Merlin laughed, smiling happily. Arthur smiled back, stomach twisting and turning. Fuck, this was so much. He had to leave or else he'd fall headfirst into these emotions and never be free. If he even wanted to.

But he had to talk to Gaius first. The man had been married, once, he recalled. She had died years ago, killed by an evil manticore. His heart had broken when Gaius had told him that, after Arthur had curiously asked once if he'd ever been in love, the older man's eyes filling with sorrow as he told about his love. He'd tried to apologize, feeling callus and cruel, but the man had just smiled sadly and had said it had been a long time ago. It was best to not dwell on the past.

He would understand what it was like to be in love, though. He just hoped that it wouldn't hurt the other man too much, to be reminded of his lost loved. Arthur couldn't even bear the thought of leaving Merlin's side. He couldn't even think about the man dying. It killed him to even entertain it.

So, he took a step back, smiling softly as he picked up their supplies, returning the clearing to its previous state, Merlin's smile as radiant as the sun. Blinding and so goddamn beautiful he wanted to cry.

"Soon, I promise. Say the word and we'll be back here so fast. I swear it."

And he meant it. He truly did. Merlin just nodded, his face a mess of happy emotions. He then held out his arm with a flourish, an haute look appearing on his face.

"May I?" He questioned, eyes bright with humor. Arthur couldn't help the laugh, though he shook his head and held out his arm instead, meaning obvious. Like hell would he be the girl in their relationship. Merlin just sniffed, like the Royal prat he was, before daintily placing his hand on Arthur's forearm, so light he barely felt it. Arthur grinned and turned his hand, so he was able to interlock their fingers, heart pounding at the shocked (but so very happy) look on his friend's face.

After that, the pair headed back to Camelot. And if their hands were clasped tight, all the way until they reached the end of the tunnel and back into the citadel proper, well.

It was their little secret.

AN: Okay! Before I go into my actual end author note, can someone tell me what lake is the Lake of Avalon? Because I had thought it was the lake outside Camelot, where Merlin saw the Sidhe. But then, in Excalibur, the Great Dragon yelled that Merlin should bring the sword as far away as he could, where no one could find it, and so he threw the sword in the lake. Is that the same lake? If so, how is that as far away from the castle as he possibly could find? It's literally right outside! You can walk there! Merlin often did! Also, didn't he need Kilgra- whatever I don't want to look up his name's help when getting it at the end of season three? Because it was so far away? I'm confused. So, I'm not naming the lake they go to, though I'm pretty sure it is the Lake of Avalon. Unless the lake isn't close to Camelot? Who the hell knows; geography was never my strong suit.

If it's not, then they're at a different lake. One near the castle. I'll just invent a lake for my story. Why not. Hell, have a whole mountain or two. Towns and streams. For the hell of it. Little did y'all know that Camelot was built on the back of a giant turtle named George, who is slow but steady, and will give you mind powers if you tickle his hidden third nostril. Because why the hecks not? It was just never mentioned in Merlin because it wasn't important to the story.

Now. Onto the real author's note. I made Gaius a widower since I just saw the episode with Alice and realized he'd have married her, had Uther not had his ban. But I'd not written that he was married and couldn't really retcon it. So, she tragically died when Merlin was ten, the manticore killing her when she refused to do its evil bidding. They never had children, for whatever reason. Sorry Alice.

Also, I fear I'm making Arthur too soft. In the show he was very forward, willing to kiss and court Gwen, damn the consequences. I like to think this version of Arthur is far humbler, though, and knows that some things take time. And that rushing into the fray is not always the best option. Since he was on equal standing with the Knights, and Morgana, and Gwen, it was easier to listen to them when they called him an idiot or foolish. So, he was able to grow more. Plus, I'm a hopeless romantic, despite my possibly aromantic status.

Final thing. Merlin and Arthur are in a kind of relationship now. Neither of them will really call it that, nor will they fully accept that the other loves them as fiercely as they love the other, but they are in love and are courting, in a sense. But don't discount this relationship they've fallen into just because it has no name. It is important, to both of them. I'll show Merlin's perspective of this whole thing next chapter, so you can see his thoughts on the matter. But, as the psychologist in me wants to point out, there are more kinds of love than just romantic ones. Some are even more powerful than various kinds of romantic love. It just depends.

So, while they're not in a romantic relationship (yet), they are in an intense one with real feelings. And don't mistake me; it's not a romantic relationship, not at the moment. So... yeah. The boys are still hopelessly pining. But they're happy.

For now. :-)