Did you know that frogs don't move out of the way when you're coming at them on a skateboard? I didn't, but I sure do now. Good thing ballet and tree-climbing taught me enough balance not to crash from the grossed-outness. Yeek.
Anyway, thanks for all the prayers and advice regarding my SAT; it wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it was going to be. That doesn't necessarily mean I knew what I was doing, though, I guess. (Hehe) Hoping my reading/writing skills make up for pitiful lack of math skills.
This is a shorter chapter, set just after The Death Song of Uther Pendragon. Despite its shortness, I really liked writing it. Arthur is just so adorable (or as my sisters/friends and I say, "so fluffy I'm gonna die!").
Four.
The fourth time, he was still a little shaky, though it had been hours since he had seen one of his worst fears come true. Even should he live a thousand centuries, he would never forget the look of savage hatred in Uther Pendragon's cold, dead eyes, and he was sure he would have a nightmare of it that very night.
For now, however, all thoughts of his one great secret's finally being revealed to the tyrant king were pushed to the back of his mind. It didn't matter now. Uther's spirit was gone. His reign was over, and finally, Arthur's could really begin. Finally, the Once and Future King could break away from that shadow his father had spread over their past and find his own rule.
That did not mean it was easy to let go.
Merlin entered with no warning; he did not knock or come inside slowly or noisily to announce himself, as he often did. He slid through the heavy gate and approached the solemn figure quickly and softly, without consideration or pause. He knew what to do, and where he once would have hesitated, he never would now.
Arthur only noticed his presence when he stopped beside him. The young king turned his head away from the stone sarcophagus, with that hard, unforgiving expression designed into the carved face there, and looked into the gentle, real face of his friend.
Merlin studied his king's eyes for a few heartbeats, and was both glad and slightly surprised to find only a little pain and grief there—like a sad but willing farewell.
Arthur took a step to the side, so that his back was turned to the carved stone that held his father's earthly remains. He sighed quietly, and then all the pain and grief was gone entirely. A familiar smile, peaceful and reassuring, reached the king's deep blue eyes as he nodded to Merlin's silent questions. The sight of it flooded Merlin's heart with relief and, somehow, hope.
He was not sure which of them moved first, but when he looked over Arthur's shoulder to the replica of Uther on the stone coffin, he closed his eyes away from it and pressed his face into his friend's hair, tightening his arms around him. Arthur answered by patting his shoulder a bit too heavily with one hand and gripping the back of Merlin's jacket with the other.
On that day, Merlin knew, if they'd never really acknowledged it before, they both did now. They were brothers, simply and completely. Nothing would ever take that away, and nothing could ever pull them apart.