IX.
Is it impossible?
After the expectedly disastrous lunch that they had when Merlin detailed his use of magic in Camelot it takes five and a half weeks before Arthur calls Merlin back into his service. Merlin remained hopeful despite the poor turn the conversation had taken. Arthur had smashed a sword repeatedly against a shield of magic around him (erected at Arthur's request so as to not hurt him) until the blade broke in half then had continued until there was only hilt left and had thrown the hilt at him the minute his shield had been lowered. It was hard not to keep the faith though, especially when Arthur kissed him fiercely before tossing him out of the room. Even with chores for Gaius, Merlin found himself once more with a lot of free time on his hands. He was baffled beyond reason when he found out that Arthur had banned him from the library temporarily but tried to occupy his time studying magic and medicine versus exploring like he had previously. He and Arthur did not have an invisible wall between them like before but it did take a while for things to normalize a bit. For the first week, Arthur only smiled at him in passing or greeted him briefly. By the third week, they had met several times on the battlements to further talk about some of the things that Merlin had revealed. Arthur had a lot of questions that he'd forgotten in his sword-swinging rage. After the first few times he'd been asked to draw out the magic he'd left with Arthur for the prince to look at it, any notions that he had imagined what gave him cause for hope were dispelled. After the fourth request to see it, Merlin had changed the weave of the spell to respond to Arthur's call. It was the first instance where he could see the prince softening toward him. The energy between them had grown warmer and more familiar as they discussed his magic from that point onward so when he was called to return to the prince's service, it wasn't a big emotional production for him.
He takes the stairs two at a time though there's no real need to rush, a small tray of meat pies balanced in one hand and a jug of warm spiced wine clutched in the next. It wouldn't hurt to treat Arthur, sweeten him up a little bit. He tried his best to look sharp, dressed in a newer navy tunic that hadn't faded yet and a red neckerchief that wasn't as frayed. His hair was a bit of a lost cause as he hasn't gotten around to cutting it but maybe Arthur would find it as endearing as the chambermaids. He's even managed to gather some flowers for the prince's table - not that Arthur would do more than rib him for it - and tried his best to remember that they were tucked into his belt at his back. Managing a balancing act that requires but a wink of magic, he opened the doors to Arthur's chambers. However, he damned near dropped everything when he entered.
"Haven't you heard of knocking, Merlin?"
He's heard of having the breath knocked out of him. He's in the middle of one such episode, right now. The bloody prince is sprawled on a chair that's been moved to the centre of the room. He's wearing the same get-up that he had been at the markets, the outfit. If his thighs had been closely clad in those pants before, it's only by the gods' grace that they haven't split from the way Arthur's thighs bulge in them. Thick...cut...thighs… His mouth is suddenly dry. Of course, Arthur is smirking at him, his thumb playing with the ring on his finger and his finger playing at his lower lip. The God forsaken white tunic's neckline sits haphazardly on his shoulders, bearing the firm slope at the base of his neck. The light sprinkle of chest hair peeking from the deep V is a secret language that he wishes to dedicate his life to studying. His hair is damp and sort of pushed back, sort of falling over his face. There's a flushed, dewy sheen to the prince's skin that causes the tunic to stick to him in some places, making it even sheerer. It hangs as it had in the markets, no belt to stop it from falling neatly against the contours of his hips and groin. His sprawl obviously means that his legs are thrown wide and there's no doubt that this is an invitation. Arthur is the carved statue of an angel breathed to life.
His wicked mouth is slicked quickly by his tongue before lips part and he calls as he leans forward, "Merlin."
"Arthur," he says in a whoosh, breathless but unwilling to own it, "You called for me."
The prince stands, shoving back most of the hair that had fallen into his face. He approaches in an unhurried way, his hand sweeping through his hair then down his neck to rest gracefully on his chest. Despite all of the heat and fantasy swirling around him, his eyes are youthful, clear and bright. "Yes, I thought it was time for us to move forward properly." With a regal flourish of his hand - it is exaggerated for the sake of a joke, "I thought we could have dinner." The tray of pies and jug of wine seem cheap in front of the meal piled on top of Arthur's table. "And I hoped you'd stay with me after. We could talk and spend some time together, given how much of it we had apart recently. I had them prepare a bath for you and the servants' chambers have been cleaned and readied."
"Are you trying to seduce me?" His voice is a bit on the weaker side but how could it not?
Arthur flushes all the way down to his neck like he wasn't just licking his lips sultrily and looks down shyly. "I was trying to be clear about my intentions."
"And what are those?" Merlin prompts, stepping up to the table and resting his bounty down. He picks leisurely at some vegetables on a plate. He finds it easier to tease when he isn't distracted by the sight of Arthur.
The prince is at his side, tangling their fingers together and leaning in with a look earnest enough to make a priest faint. "I want you by my side," he says unashamedly, despite the flush all over his face, "At all times, I want you near. I want to know every piece of you as well as I know myself and even better. I intend to know you so intimately and to let you know me just as. One day, we won't have to hide and I want you to feel comfortable walking into that light with me. Meaning...comfortable with who you are walking into that light with." Arthur, for the very first time, leans in to take Merlin's lips in a cautious but sweet kiss. He sighs softly against the prince's lips, allowing Arthur the room to lead this moment. As he withdraws, their lips pulling apart slowly with the tackiness of their skin, "We are part of the same destiny but I never want you to feel as though that destiny is a burden you carry alone. For so long, you have and I've been a silent pawn in the game but now that I know...you will never be alone." Hands go up to the back of his neck and loosen his neckerchief. "Why don't you get into the bath and I'll feed you some dinner?" They're both grinning at this, Arthur's arms loosely around his neck, his hands swinging free. "Like a shy servant out of a chambermaid's midnight fantasy, maybe whose only desire is to please his master."
His whole face wrinkling up as he snickers, "You can scarcely keep a straight face!"
Tightening thick corded arms surely around his neck, Arthur came in as close as he dared. Merlin could openly admit that he loved the ease with which the prince slid into his space and more than loved the comfort on his face and in his posture. Taking his second kiss, Arthur says, "Because you're utterly ridiculous, Merlin. Now hop in before I change my mind. I'll get the food."
He looks at the screen set up for his privacy and smells the gentle fragrance of lavender wafting out of the warm water. There are fresh suds sitting on the top of the water, more than likely to preserve his modesty and - of all things - rose petals. His face breaks into a stupid grin. He could hear the roll of Arthur's eyes.
"What are you on about now?"
The stupidity of his happiness complicating itself further on his face, he reaches behind him and produces the small bouquet for Arthur's inspection. Arthur scoffs lightly, freeing an arm to take it. Lowly, "Edelweiss, for the courage that we have shown and must show going forward, strengthened by Chamomile for energy in adversity." With his free hands, he plucks a few out and breaks the stems to rest them artfully in his prince's hair. "Rosemary, for remembrance, so that you may never forget what you mean to me." He put a sprig behind each of Arthur's ears. Arthur who was watching him with eyes so loving it could end him. "Yarrow for love." Beaming with pride, he observes the wobbly arch of white and green over Arthur's hair. "A fitting crown for a beautiful prince."
"You're such a girl." But the way Arthur's voice breaks all over the words, his face pink, his hands making no move to disturb the wonky crown and his eyes wet with emotion let Merlin know that there's absolutely no fire behind it.
So, he takes a chance and crowds Arthur, his hand going up to knot firmly in short, blond hair. The dominance of the gesture is baldfaced. The sheer magnificence of his prince so open and soft like this emboldens him. Nearly lip to lip, cheeky but low and firm, "I'm ready for that bath. Are you ready to serve me?"
When Arthur steps back he thinks that maybe he's pushed a little too far but his hand is still where it is, maybe loosely now. The adoration is clear on Arthur's face and there's something else. There's something, something defiant but in a way he's never seen it on the prince's face. Arthur isn't going to fight him, no that's not it. Lightning cracks purposefully in his eyes and thunder booms as the Crowned Prince of Camelot falls softly to his knees before his manservant.
How blessed he feels in this moment to have this angel fallen before him. Caught between the sunshine of golden hair and the storms of blue eyes, Merlin's magic thrums to his fingertips. The magic he's left In Arthur rises to meet it and there are sparks firing and flowers blooming. Fingers twist in the hem of his jacket and there really isn't anything else to be said.