With the heat of battle filling his mind, Arthur felt his pulse increase. His eyes were on the quiet forest that surrounded him, taking in all of the - well, the lack of birds, insects, and the lack of life in general, and it made him feel increasingly uneasy. Merlin was quietly following behind, being very careful not to trip over his own feet and give away their location.

Arthur could feel the rumbling of the crowd of bandits resonating with the metal of his boots.

They'd picked up his trail.

He quickly grabbed Merlin's hand and rushed him into the wilderness, looking for a place to hide.

They ran and ran for almost three miles before finding a small niche under a rock to hide under. They waited silently.

The roar of rumbling continued but the bandits, at least forty or fifty of them, ran over and straight past them. Arthur looked over to Merlin, who was looking back at him.

"Well, that was close, sire, but I do believe we'd have had an easier time if you hadn't slowed us down," Merlin said casually.

"Me?" Arthur exclaimed. "You were the one who kept tripping over each branch and leaf we walked over!" he scoffed.

Merlin smiled at Arthur, and Arthur lifted his head to meet Merlin's eyes. He loved those beautiful eyes. Arthur grabbed the loose cloth at the front of Merlin's shirt and pulled him in for a –

beepbeepbeep

Arthur woke to the same annoying sounds droning from his alarm clock, as he always did. The sunlight gleaming through his window was blinding, forcing him to roll over. He was too tired to care about the beeping or the fact that, yet again, he had dreamt about a medieval magical world where him and Merlin were partners or boyfriends or something strange like that.

Two weeks had passed since his accident, and he felt like it was time to get up and start working towards getting back on track. It was time to get his mind off of the useless things he had been thinking about lately - and by useless, he meant Merlin.

Merlin's day, however, was probably one of the best days of his life. Today, he was set to vacation to America to see his Uncle Gaius and hopefully get some sun in while seeing all there was to see about the States. Merlin had packed his bag three times over the previous night, doing his best to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything that he needed. The last time he'd been on a trip he hadn't forgotten anything other than his cell phone, wallet, computer, and tooth brush, which made it even more obnoxious when his mother had had to drive him back to the house andhe missed his flight. But not this time. This time, Merlin was prepared for anything.

" - and that is why Arthur will be going with you," Richard finished. Merlin's mouth dropped open as he felt his heart sink into his chest. Why the fuck would his stupid sodding step-father do something so insanely stupid? He had to spend two weeks in Chicago with an extraordinary attractive yet grossly misguided man who wanted nothing more than to have Merlin fall off a cliff and preferably into a vat of hot seething oil and be eating and chopped up by a troll king.

Arthur rolled his eyes in disgust. He wanted to protest, he really did, but he was the one who had gone to Richard; he was the one who'd wanted to get more work in and not feel useless, and like the saying goes: "No good deed goes unpunished."

Arthur retreated back into his room and packed his things, prepared with his iPod and a box of ibuprofen, and then he was ready to handle whatever the insufferable brat could throw at him.

Getting through security was easy enough.. Merlin and Arthur were able to quickly board the international plane with ease. In a direction towards Arthur's distaste, the seats were right next to each other, in first class, almost completely isolated from everyone which made it extremely hard for Arthur to find a legitimate reason to ignore Merlin.

Arthur was finding that hard to do lately. Merlin would walk around the house in a pair of only skin tight boxers, leaving almost nothing to the imagination, and the light black hair that radiated from his ankles to his thighs. His beautiful chest that, while not buff, sported two deliciously symmetrical and slightly toned pecs. And that stomach! Arthur would think to himself: flat and smooth with just a little hair creeping up from the only place Arthur wanted his mouth to be.

Merlin, too, was trying his hardest to not look at Arthur, but when he was no less than three feet away and not another stranger in sight, well - that made things extremely awkward. Merlin had tried his best over the past two weeks to get Arthur's attention. He really, really wanted them to be friends, or be able to at least tolerate each other, but now it seemed like all Arthur was going to do was make Merlin's life hell. Merlin couldn't help but obsess over him though. Arthur liked to work shirtless, outside in the heat, and the way his body directed the drops of sweat, the way his chest was layered with a thin layer of hair, the way Arthur's back and chest would mold and twist as he stretched and lifted and - Merlin pulled his iPod from his bag.

He needed to get his mind off Arthur.

"Oh no!" Merlin yelled irritably. He threw his iPod back into his bag and crossed his hands over his chest, pouting like a small child. Arthur couldn't help notice him in his distress and, against his better judgment, he leaned over to ask what was going on.

"My idiot self decided to not charge my iPod last night and now I'm stuck on this plane on a twelve hour fucking flight with absolutely nothing to do." Merlin sighed and sank back into his seat.

Arthur felt a little guilty. He really wanted to laugh at Merlin and tell him it was good that he would have nothing to do and that maybe that would teach him that his father couldn't be such a prick, but that quickly dissipated from his mind as he realized how immature and irrational that thought was. He was starting to come to his senses about the fact that Merlin was definitely not his step-father, but that didn't mean that Arthur didn't still hold a grudge.

Arthur pulled an earbud from his ear and handed it to Merlin. "Here," he said.

Merlin's eyes went from the earbud to Arthur and to the earbud. He had an unintelligible look on his face. This, of course, made Arthur extremely irritated. For the first time in almost a month he was trying to be niceto the guy and he was acting like he'd just handed him poison.

"Fine," Arthur said coldly after the long pause. "Forget I said anything." He placed the earbud back into his ear and looked out the window, lucky enough to have the window seat.

Merlin sank deeper into his chair. He hadn't meant to be so rude, but he was just so shocked that Arthur was being – well – nice. It was refreshing, but it left as quickly as it came. Merlin couldn't help but stare at Arthur, trying to figure him out.

Arthur tossed and turned into the cold plastic of the aircraft wall. Merlin had been lucky enough to get the last pillow from the stewardess and was now, of course, sleeping like a baby while a small fan from the over head blew a gentle breeze on his face, gingerly picking up locks of his hair and letting them drop back onto his forehead. Arthur couldn't help but stare; something was just too perfect about the scene that laid in front of him. Those precious cheeks, that forehead, the contrast of his black hair against his milky skin. It was times like this where Arthur couldn't help but lose himself, couldn't help but forget all of the horrible things Richard has done to his family - to him - and he couldn't help himself but remember the dreams where he and Merlin were together, couldn't help but remember how much he lov-

Merlin opened his eyes to find Arthur a little too close and a little too real. He almost shrank back in surprise when he saw Arthur staring at him. His mind raced, why was he staring? What did he want?

He noticed that Arthur didn't have a pillow. Maybe... "Do you w-want my pillow?" he stammered.

Arthur looked at him oddly. Why would he want his pillow? "What?"

"You were staring at my pillow... weren't you?" Merlin asked.

Arthur's look of bewilderment slowly became a shade of irritation as he realized how transparent he was being. His mind darted left and right for an excuse as to why his eyes were locked onto Merlin's skin for just a second too long, but he came up with nothing.

Luckily, a quick burst of turbulence shook the plane, giving Arthur a few more seconds of precious time to come up with a lie.

"I... did... want your pillow," Arthur said slowly after a good twenty seconds of awkward silence. Really, Arthur, really, that's all you could come up with? You're about as smooth as gravel.

Merlin's puzzled expressions faded into pity and he sat up a little bit and handed Arthur his pillow. Merlin was tired of fighting, tired of always being on edge when he was around Arthur, even if it meant him having no music and no pillow - anything was better than being ostracized and alone.

Arthur took Merlin's pillow and placed it behind him and then he handed Merlin his iPod. "I think that's a fair trade," Arthur said insistently; he wanted to make sure Merlin couldn't deny the gesture he made. He was tired of always feeling antagonistic, and this plane ride was far too long to begin pushing buttons.

Right?

Arthur couldn't help but bury his face in the pillow. The scent of Merlin was buried deep into the fabric, as if the material was woven of Merlin's own flesh and blood itself. It was a hint of wintergreen and a splash of vanilla with Merlin's own scent, and though Arthur swore this was the first time he had ever really smelled Merlin, he couldn't help but remember it.

Merlin didn't show it, and he was careful that he didn't, but he was overly joyous about the fact that he had Arthur's iPod. Music was everything to Merlin, and he had hoped that by listening to Arthur's top played songs he could find a connection, or somehow establish a bridge between them and really get to know Arthur through the songs that he used for joy and the songs that he used to cope. He smiled and reclined into his seat, letting sleep and Arthur's music take him away.

Arthur had never felt better. He reclined into his throne, revelling in the cool summer day. His subjects were in the hall with him, some standing guard, others talking over plans for a new town. Arthur slowly stood up. His legs and back didn't keep up with him like they used to. He walked down to the table, and smiled down at his advisers. They, too, had grown old with time.

Arthur turned around to face his throne. He looked at his seat, then to Merlin's. It had been almost three years since death had stolen Merlin from Arthur, three years since the attack on the castle, three years since the blow Merlin had taken in his sleep from the witch Morgana, but that was okay, the kingdom was safe, and Arthur – well – he would be soon to follow.

Arthur took out a small piece of glass and walked off quickly to a different room in the castle, where he was alone. He lifted the back of his shirt and tilted the glass behind him. It was hard, but he managed to find what he was looking for. A small symbol Ѳ rested on the small of his back, barely visible to anyone who wasn't looking. Merlin had tattooed it there, many years ago, and he'd told his king, "If either of us dies, this will carry our souls together through time, and we will always find each other, no matter what, just so long as you don't give up on love – or on me."

A few tears splattered against the floor as Arthur remembered his raven-haired prince. He slumped into the corner, and sobbed into is hands.

The remainder of the flight consisted of Merlin feeling very elated about how similar their music tastes were, and Arthur gently snoring into his pillow.

The lights blinked on the plane, signifying for them to fasten their seat belts, and a very tired Arthur was woken by a very annoyed stewardess for the third time that he had to "return his seat to a locked and upright position."

Merlin hated this part. He hated landing in a plane. Something about the feeling of descending with the shaking of the cabin and the deceleration of the engines made his hands sweat.

The plane began its decline and Merlin's knuckles went white from how tightly he was gripping the arm rest. Arthur looked over at Merlin, who had broken out in a thin cold sweat.

"Are you okay, Merlin?"

"Uhm – yeah sure," Merlin responded quickly, trying to get his mind off of the fact that the plane was hurling down towards the ground faster than his own body's terminal velocity, and the fact that if even one wheel decided not to work they would be hurled into a fiery oblivion that would be rivaled only by a school massacre or a hospital being burned down.

The back wheels of the plane made contact with the ground and Merlin's hand quickly leapt over and grabbed Arthur's. Arthur had more than one thought to let go, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to. It was weird and his hand was cold and clammy but he needed to comfort him, even if it was something as simple as coming to a stop on a plane.

The plane came to a slow drive and Merlin's hand began to unclench. Arthur's hand was red from the pressure and he shook it a little, trying to return blood flow.

Merlin quickly pulled his hand back as soon as he'd realised what he had done. Arthur, however, seemed to try to keep it there for as long as he could. Confused and getting over the anxiety of the landing, Merlin felt the overwhelming need to apologize.

"I'm sorry... about your hand, I didn't meant to - well I mean, just... sorry," he said apologetically. He seemed more embarrassed than sorry.

"It's fine," Arthur replied soothingly. Merlin took notice of how soft his face was, like he was intentionally trying to comfort him. "It was just landing, right?" he half asked half stated. "You weren't more scared while we were in the air?"

Merlin handed Arthur back his iPod. People were beginning to exit the plane, and being first class, they got to exit first. "Well," Merlin began while collecting his things, "if you knew anything about the engineering of this tube of metal, you'd know that you're much more likely to die on landing than at any other time. Being in the air, that's simple, least stressful part of flying, but landing, if a pilot comes in a little too sharp, BOOM!" Merlin expanded his hands, mimicking an explosion. "We're all dead."

Arthur gazed at Merlin with interest and amazement. Not only was he apparently educated in the structural engineering of the plane but that he was also being completely serious. Arthur tried to contain his laughter but with how seriously Merlin was looking at him and how tired he was, he couldn't help but burst out.

Merlin, of course, took this the wrong way and shifted his eyes down at his shoes as a familiar tingling of heat filled his cheeks. He felt awkward and embarrassed and very much like a fool. He quietly took his bag from the overhead and did his best to not look Arthur in the face, who was still laughing like a madman.

Arthur noticed Merlin sulk away. "Merlin! Merlin!" Arthur yelled. "Wait for me!" Arthur quickly threw his bag over his back and scurried after him.

Merlin half turned his head. "Why?" he asked, a hint of pain in his voice. "So you can laugh at me again? I know how you must see me..." He turned his head back around and continued walking.

Arthur placed his hand on his shoulder and spun him around. "Look," Arthur started, "I didn't mean it like that."

His eyes locked with Merlin's. Arthur could feel heat and energy flow from Merlin, into himself. He felt like doing nothing more than just talking to Merlin, like taking Merlin into his arms and kissing him, telling him that he didn't think that Merlin was an idiot or something like that, that Merlin was really someone that he wanted to talk to, someone that he really wanted to spend his time with, someone he really just waned to be around. "I was laughing because you're so weirdand nothing like I was expecting you to be," Arthur continued as they continued walking towards the plane's exit.

Merlin turned his head over his shoulder. "So – is that a compliment or...?"

They took their first steps off the plane and into the hallway going up to the terminal, and Arthur chuckled. He couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't resist - he needed Merlin, needed him like air, like water. This was his chance, and he wasn't going to let it slide.

After spending a few seconds pretending to think about it, he said, "It's definitely a compliment," and he chuckled again. He lifted his hand and have Merlin a few friendly pats on the back as they approached the bright light of the entrance to the terminal.

Merlin looked outward onto large building he was stepping inside. The sun was shining through the skylights, and hundreds of people were walking left and right. He could feel the energy of the crowd, feel it fill him with excitement, and he looked back to Arthur and smiled, and Arthur couldn't help but smile back.