Happy Winter Holidays!
The setting sun painted the expansive sky in brilliant reds and oranges and yellows. Merlin leaned his hands back on the log and marveled at the beautiful scene. Morgana was gone. There was no impending battle or prophecy. Destiny could wait. Arthur was alive. Arthur was alive. He breathed deep, not able to recall the last time he could just sit and be and do something simple like watch a sunset. Colors shifted from day to night, yellows giving way to pinks, to purples, before fading into dark blue. Stars came out of hiding in twinkling waves across the darkening sky until night was fully upon them. It was the darkness that hinted to Merlin the fire was going out. Weariness from the past two weeks weighed his body down such that it took effort to place more wood on the low flames. Picking up a long stick, he fell back down to the log and started prodding the embers.
Arthur was still hunched over his knees, the bowl cradled, now empty, in his hands. The tightness in his chest loosened as he watched the captivating flames die down. Merlin's presence next to him seemed far away but for subtle gestures that attracted his awareness now and again. A sigh. A shift on the hard log. The outstretching of a foot. It was all so…simple. In this moment, there were no armies to command, no battles to prepare for, no tournaments, diplomats, council meetings…it was just him and Merlin. Sitting on a log. Day transitioning steadily to night like it always did.
When Merlin started rekindling the campfire, Arthur's eyes followed his movements. A limber hand gripped pieces of various sizes of branch, one after another, and tossed them onto the embers, sending sparks into the air. Then he grabbed a long stick and sat back down, leaning forward to poke at the weak flames. Arthur looked between Merlin and the glowing ashes that refused to catch on the new wood.
The words slipped softly from Arthur's lips before he knew if they were true, "You can use magic, you know."
Merlin turned to him, noticed that Arthur had been watching him.
"I wasn't sure you'd be comfortable with that."
Arthur searched Merlin's eyes, relearning what truth looked like on Merlin's face. Then he gave an approving nod and watched the campfire expectantly. When the flames jumped to life, he glanced discreetly out of the corner of his eye to glimpse the gold before it faded back to familiar blue.
"You'll be well enough to travel by morning," Merlin started. "We can probably make it back to Camelot within the week."
Camelot. He should want to go back. He should. Arthur had known no other home, no other life but the one of princely expectations and then kingly duties. People that depended on him. Knights that looked to him for commands. A castle with stiff walls and strict protocols. Even the thought of returning to Gwen, which should fill him with joy, now burdened him with guilt.
"Merlin," Arthur found Merlin's eyes again, "why do you want to go back? You're a sorcerer. You know the laws."
But Merlin just smiled. "Never stopped me before."
A small smile curved his lips when he muttered 'idiot' and faced forward again. He felt Merlin unabashedly staring at him and he had to put effort into not turning toward the heated gaze.
"Arthur, Camelot is a great kingdom and has been a great home, but –"
Arthur's breath caught. His stomach flipped with a faint notion of how he wanted Merlin to finish that sentence. "But what?"
Without hesitation, Merlin completed his thought, a whispered confession, "I only stayed there for you. Only for you. I'll always be by your side."
Arthur's heart sped up and he could no longer resist meeting Merlin's intense eyes. Those eyes that time and again conveyed a depth of devotion that Arthur had never understood. When had Merlin moved closer? His lips suddenly felt dry and when he wet them with his tongue he caught Merlin's eyes flick down for the briefest of seconds.
He cleared his throat and they both turned away. The thought of returning to Camelot, his faith in its laws now shaken, the expectations forcing him to be a false king…he shouldn't feel this way, but he did damn it. And he couldn't return and pretend like everything was the same as it was before. He needed to get away, just for a while, figure things out.
"Does anyone know I'm alive?" he asked.
"No," Merlin shook his head, "not yet. Just me. Why?"
He let his thoughts work themselves aloud. "Morgana is no longer a threat; the kingdom is at peace; Gwen will fill the crown beautifully –"
"No one will fill the crown like you, Arthur."
"Maybe," he sighed, "but Camelot doesn't need me anymore."
"Arthur…" Merlin grew apprehensive, "what are you saying?"
That's when Arthur turned to Merlin with the same conviction that usually meant the arse was about to do something incredibly stupid and dangerous.
"I'm not going back."
Merlin's eyebrows shot up, "What? Arthur, but you –"
"I'm not going back, Merlin," and the way his voice deflated and the look on his face when he turned back to the fire, almost broken, told Merlin there was no changing his mind. "I can't."
Merlin drew in a deep lungful of air, letting it linger in his chest before releasing the gut reaction to debate out with his breath.
"Alright, Arthur. I'll think of someplace for us to go," Merlin watched Arthur give a curt nod. He leaned back again, looking up at the stars. "We'll leave at first light."
Arthur didn't argue.