Chapter 6
An hour later Merlin and Arthur were stumbling through a forest clearing singing loud, atonal music,
"And oh ye barmaid
With the fair unicorn,
Give us another pint
So that we sleep till next morn."
Both were obviously very drunk. Yet the impending revelation of Merlin's feelings for Arthur combined with the frenzied state of his nerves had significantly lowered his tolerance to the point where he could barely keep his flask straight.
Arthur had burst out laughing, "Now this is what I call a celebration! Wandering aimlessly in the woods with half a working mind, practically propping up my poor excuse of a manservant with absolutely no working mind!"
"I'll admit the liqueur was meant merely to help calm me down a bit. Guess it overdid the job." Merlin managed to slur, giving Arthur a lopsided grin.
"Calm you down for what, idiot? You planning on killing me?" Arthur joked.
"Nope. Was planning on confessing my love for you, actually," stated Merlin, his tone light though his eyes held an intense expression.
Then several things happened at once. Arthur, who had been plodding through thickets with Merlin under his arm, came to an abrupt halt. Yet in doing so he lost his footing (unaided by the alcohol affecting his brain) and tripped over a protruding tree root.
He dropped Merlin involuntarily, who landed on a rosebush with a yelp. Both became suddenly more aware of their surroundings, though they had by no means become sober.
"Shit!" Merlin swore, "You could've done that GENTLY!" he attempted to lighten up the situation.
Arthur said nothing in response, but was staring at Merlin with an unreadable expression on his face. Merlin sighed and got up, absently rubbing the back of his neck where a particularly sharp thorn had poked him.
"This was a bad idea," he muttered, not meeting Arthur's eyes, "Look let's just head back to the castle, put me in the stocks if you wish, then I can just pack up and – "
Merlin's rambling was cut off when he realized that Arthur's lips were suddenly on his. The next thing he knew he was being pushed roughly by Arthur against a giant oak tree and was kissing him back with every ounce of passion in his body. For Arthur, it was a moment of clarity. The pieces began to fit together – his indifference to Avilia, the sudden brightening at the coronation when Merlin had smiled at him, his recent discontent. It all came down to Merlin.