Fic: The Magic Box
Title: The Magic Box
Author: a8c_sock
Rating: G
Wordcount: 3003
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: They don't belong me but to Shine, the BBC etc. I borrow them purely for fun.
Beta: shutupeccles
Summary: When Merlin was little he had a magic box and if he was very good he could wish for things.
Author's Notes (A/N): Written for merlinxarthur's fanfic challenge #2. Using this picture:
The Magic Box
When Merlin was little he had a magic box. It was a very special box make of wood and very old. His mother told him, as soon as he was old enough to understand, that it had belonged to his father and that he had to be careful with it. Merlin didn't know his father; the man had left before Merlin was born. All he had to remember him by was a grainy old photograph and the magic box.
Merlin loved tracing the carving on the lid, imagining the ribbons of wood as snakes, twining around each other, or what they would look like as a stained glass window. He would touch the metal hinges and take the key in and out of the lock. It was magical enough to Merlin without the fact it could conjure things if he wished hard enough.
To make his wish all he had to do was turn the key in the lock until it clicked. Then with his hand on the lid he would squeeze his eyes tightly shut and wish. He would never say the words out loud, his mother had told him that spoken wishes were never granted, but say them in his head, over and over. Then his hand would grow hot and he would know his wish was granted.
He would remove his hand and then turn the key in the lock back the other way. Then, being very careful, he'd lift the lid of the box and peek inside. He would only open the box when he was sure there was something inside it. After lifting out his wished for item he would close the box again but would not lock it.
Of course the box had limits; whatever he wished for had to fit in the box. Merlin had tried wishing for a car once but all that appeared in the box had been a toy; a model. His mother had told him a real car wouldn’t fit.
Merlin also couldn't wish for a living thing like an animal. Although he could wish for flowers they appeared freshly picked and withered as quickly as ones picked from the garden. He tried wishing for a kitten once but it didn't work. He was very sad and had been sure a kitten would have fitted in the box but his mother explained that even magic boxes had limits.
His mother also told him he must be careful how he used his wishes, that if he was too selfish the box would stop working. Of course Merlin, with a child’s curiosity and a child's perception, tried it out by wishing for chocolate cake after chocolate cake. On his tenth wish he smelled something strange from inside the box and discovered green goo that stuck to his hand and took days to wash off. He was very careful after that.
As Merlin grew he began to realise the box wasn't the only thing with magic. He found that he didn't always need the box to conjure an apple or fresh flowers for his mother. He found he could do many things the box couldn't; make his bed, stop a mug of tea from spilling, and mop the floor without picking up the mop.
The box gradually became used less and less but Merlin remained very attached to it. He would still stroke the wood, as smooth as it had always been, and run a finger along the hinge. He wondered if his father had had magic, or if he had just had the magic box. His mother never said anything about it and Merlin never asked.
When Merlin was eighteen he went off to university and took the box with him. It was a familiar reminder of home, a comfort. He didn’t show it off though, but kept it hidden under his bed. That was until his room mate - Arthur, found it when he went rummaging for a pen he'd dropped on the floor.
The first thing Arthur actually pulled out were a few embarrassing pictures of Merlin. He took one look at the top one and laughed.
“What are you laughing at?” Merlin asked, as he stopped looking for Arthur's pen under his desk.
“This,” Arthur replied, turning the photograph around to show Merlin. “I think this is the most hideous Christmas jumper I've ever seen.
Merlin still didn't know why his mother had knitted a scene of Father Christmas and his reindeer flying over a tinsel covered Stone Henge but he quite liked it. “My mother knitted that!” Merlin said.
Arthur was still smiling. “Well, at least her cooking is better than her knitting.”
“Maybe next time she sends a fruitcake I can get her to knit you a jumper,” Merlin said, smiling sweetly.
“Merlin!”
“You'd look good in one of Avebury surrounded by balloons and pink ribbons.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “No-one should be allowed to knit ancient monuments in apocryphal situations,” he said.
“Says the history geek who thought my picture of Caernarfon castle being attacked by a dragon was cool.”
Arthur mumbled something about artistic licence and went back to rummaging under Merlin's bed.
“What's this?” he asked, pulling the magic box out.
“Ummm...it's my magic box,” Merlin replied.
“Magic box?” Arthur looked disbelieving.
“It was my father's,” Merlin said, quietly, coming to sit on the bed. “It's all I have of his.”
“Oh,” Arthur said. There was a pause. “There's still no such thing as a magic box.”
“No, there is,” Merlin insisted. “You put your hand on the box, wish for something and it appears in the box.”
“Let's try in then,” Arthur said, getting up and placing the box on the bed between them. “What do we do?”
Merlin had never actually shown anyone the magic box before, except Will, but that was after Will had known about the rest of Merlin's magic. He would never shown it to Arthur had he not found it. At least he didn't think so. Despite this Arthur was willing to be proven wrong and in the few months of living with him Merlin knew this was a rare thing. “If it works...”
“If it works I'll do your laundry,” Arthur offered his hand out.
“All right,” Merlin agreed, shaking Arthur's hand.
“So, how does it work?” Arthur asked.
“First you turn the key,” Merlin said, waiting for it to make the familiar clicking sounds. “Then you just put your hand on it and wish,” Merlin replied.
“How do I know this isn't a trick?” Arthur asked. “You might have a hidden compartment.”
“Then, wish for something I wouldn’t know about,” Merlin replied.
“Okay.” Arthur placed his hand over the box.
“Close your eyes,” Merlin said, softly.
Arthur did so.
“Now make your wish.”
After a few minutes nothing seemed to have happened. Arthur opened his eyes and lifted his hand off. “Was that it?”
“We can check,” Merlin said.
Arthur opened the box and then gave Merlin a look that seemed to be saying 'I told you so'. The box was empty. “Nothing,” Arthur said.
“I don't understand,” Merlin said, staring at the empty box.
“I told you there's no such thing as magic boxes,” Arthur said, knowingly.
“Maybe you didn't believe enough,” Merlin said. He reached out and grabbed Arthur's hand. It was warm and not as soft as Merlin expected it to be. Arthur squirmed.
“Merlin!”
“Maybe we both need to try it,” he said, putting Arthur's still struggling hand on the top of the box and placing his hand half on and half Arthur’s to pin it down.
“All right then,” Arthur said, and closed his eyes again. “The same wish?”
“Yes.” Merlin closed his eyes too and felt the combination of Arthur's hand and the wood under his hand. It was a stranger feeling. Arthur’s hand was warm and such a different texture to the box. He cleared his mind, letting his magic bubble up as he concentrated on wishing the box to grant Arthur's wish.
This time Merlin could tell what was going on and he could feel the warmth of the box and he could feel Arthur's hand moving, obviously he could feel it too. Merlin held Arthur’s hand firmly. Slowly the warmth faded away and Merlin opened his eyes. “That's it,” he said.
Arthur opened his eyes and lifted his hand off the box and away from Merlin's. He rubbed it. “That didn't happen before,” he murmured.
“Open the box,” Merlin said.
This time Arthur was a little more cautious, opening the lid of the box slowly. Merlin didn't look inside but watched Arthur's expression as it changed from puzzled to shocked. “I don't...this can't be,” Arthur said, and, holding the lid open with one hand, he reached in and took out the object that had appeared.
It was an old photograph, black and white and grainy, very like the picture Merlin had of his father. In fact Merlin would have thought the picture had found its way into the box but this photograph was of a woman, a woman who looked like Arthur.
“What did you wish for?” he asked.
“A picture of my mother,” Arthur replied. “I never knew her and my father doesn't even have her photograph where anyone can see it.”
“Is that your mother?” Merlin asked, indicating the woman in the picture.
Arthur nodded. “I've only seen one, but yes, this is her.”
“She was very beautiful,” Merlin said. “You look like her.” He realised he might just have said Arthur was beautiful, but then he was.
Arthur offered a smile. “Thank you, Merlin.”
“It was the box,” Merlin replied.
“It only worked when you put your hand on it too,” Arthur pointed out.
Merlin blushed. “Yeah, well, magic's weird like that.”
“Magic,” Arthur murmured. “Can you wish for anything?”
“As long as it fits in the box,” Merlin replied. “I tried wishing for a car once.”
“Did it work?”
“I got a model one,”
“How old were you?”
“Six I think.”
“You couldn't have driven a real one anyway.”
Merlin smiled. “That's true.”
“Can we try it again?” Arthur asked.
It was nice, being able to share his magic box with someone, to know someone else knew about magic. “Yeah,” Merlin agreed. “Tomorrow? After we've finished our lectures.”
Arthur nodded. “Sounds good,” he said, getting up off the bed. “Now we need to find that pen.”
Merlin joined him. They both squeezed under the bed and it didn’t feel at all odd to be sharing such a small space together. They eventually found it under the wardrobe after they had discovered several socks, an old mouldy piece of toast and a packet of crisps.
The next day they sat on Merlin's bed together, ready to 'experiment' with the magic box. Merlin had to admit he was interested in seeing what it could do. They started off by seeing if Arthur could wish for anything on his own but after five attempts they decided it wasn't going to happen. Then they tried it with just Merlin's hand on it.
“A daisy, Merlin? That was your wish?” Arthur asked as they observed a flower in the box.
“It's a good wish,” Merlin defended. “Have you got anything to put it in?”
They looked about and in the end Arthur used a mug as a makeshift vase. “You're such a girl, Merlin,” he said.
“It's on your desk.”
“Well,” Arthur huffed. “It's my mug.”
So they established that Merlin could use the box. They discovered that the box still granted wishes with both their hands on it. They experimented with how much each of their hands was on it, Merlin's hand on top of Arthur's, Arthur's on Merlin's and their fingers tangled together. Merlin began to know the feel of Arthur's hand as well as his own.
As they wished and wished the bed filled with the objects they had requested; a pencil with a dog on it that Arthur had wanted as a child, a pebble from a beach Merlin visited as a child, candles and bits of cutlery, a wind-up fish (Merlin explained the no living things rule) and packets of crisps and sweets.
“I think we should stop now,” Merlin said after the eighth packet of polo mints.
“Why?” Arthur asked.
“If you use selfish wishes too much it gets...annoyed,” Merlin said not sure how else to explain it.
“Oh, come on, Merlin.”
“ I'm serious.”
Arthur didn't believe him until he tried wishing for yet more sweets and the box produced the odd green, foul smelling goo.
“I told you,” Merlin said.
“Maybe you had a point,” Arthur replied, rushing off to the bathroom and scrubbing his hand.
That was an end of their experiments for that day. Once Arthur had washed his hands (ten times with water so hot he had nearly scalded himself) they sat on Merlin’s bed together eating polo mints.
“I wonder why it only works when your hand is on it,” Arthur said, brushing his hands against Merlin's as they both reached for another mint.
Merlin fumbled with the packet and offered one to Arthur before taking the next one for himself. “Could be my magic,” he said, quietly.
“You have magic?”
Merlin nodded. He held the polo mint packet balanced on his open palm and concentrated. Carefully it rose up off his hand and stayed suspended in mid-air.
“That's impossible,” Arthur said waving his hand over it as if he was trying to detect the trick.
“No - it's magic,” Merlin said, smiling.
“That's how managed to clean up before your mother came to visit.” Arthur said.
Merlin nodded.
Arthur smiled. “You're a wizard, Merlin!”
“Please, Arthur, don't quote Harry Potter at me.”
“Where's your wand?”
Merlin blushed. “Arthur!”
“Thank you, Merlin,” Arthur said, grabbing another mint.
“For what?”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “You know...this.”
Merlin still wasn't sure what this was, but he was glad Arthur was being calm and pretty good about the whole magic thing. “You too,” he replied.
A few weeks later Arthur was sighing as he sat staring at his laptop screen. “Are you sure I can't wish for a completed paper on the social function of knights in the feudal system?”
Merlin, bust reading looked up from his book. “It didn't help with your last assignment,” he pointed out. “You got an essay on ketchup.”
Arthur shut the lid of the laptop and lay on his bed, sighing even more dramatically. “I can't do this,” he said.
“We could always wish for something to make you feel better,” Merlin offered, going to get the box out.
“I'd still prefer an essay,” Arthur said.
He did cheer up though when they were munching on cream cakes watching a DVD of Monty Python. Merlin made a mental note that the magic box was pretty good with abstract concepts. He was going to mention this to Arthur but he got distracted by the way Arthur carefully wiped a stray bit of cream off his cheek.
Arthur did manage his paper, and got a first for it. Merlin celebrated by wishing Arthur a rosette. Arthur made some comment about it being silly and then promptly stuck it in pride of place on their makeshift noticeboard.
When Merlin came back to their room upset about his favourite book being ruined after falling in a rain puddle Arthur was the one cheering him up by suggesting they wish for a new one. The one the box conjured up seemed absolutely identical. Merlin only found the little note in the front that read 'To Merlin. Enjoy. Arthur' once Arthur had gone to bed.
Sometimes Merlin would take the box out and simply stroke as he had when he was a child. On one such occasion Arthur's hand joined his as he traced the carvings. Merlin smiled at him and entwined their fingers as he touched the lid. Suddenly he felt the box go warm under his hand.
He and Arthur pulled their hands back slowly. “Did you wish for anything?” he asked.
“I don't think I did,” Arthur replied looking as puzzled as Merlin was.
When they opened the box inside was a red paper heart, folded in half. With great care Merlin opened it out. On each side was fancy writing, much neater than either his or Arthur's. On the left side was the message: 'Merlin, my heart belongs to you. Love Arthur' and on the right 'Arthur, my heart belongs to you. Love Merlin.'.
It was clear Arthur was reading it. “Did you wish for...?” he asked, his head near Merlin's shoulder.
Merlin might have fallen a little bit in love with Arthur over the past few months, and late at night he might have wished for a way to tell Arthur this, but he had never thought anything would come of it. “Well, I wasn't wishing it just now,” Merlin said.
“But you would?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah. I would.” Merlin replied.
“I would have too,” Arthur said, moving forward and kissing Merlin.
Merlin awkwardly placed the box out of the way, without lifting his lips from Arthur's. With the box on the floor Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur and began helping him make more wishes come true, the paper heart fluttering to the floor. This was real magic.
Author: a8c_sock
Rating: G
Wordcount: 3003
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: They don't belong me but to Shine, the BBC etc. I borrow them purely for fun.
Beta: shutupeccles
Summary: When Merlin was little he had a magic box and if he was very good he could wish for things.
Author's Notes (A/N): Written for merlinxarthur's fanfic challenge #2. Using this picture:
The Magic Box
When Merlin was little he had a magic box. It was a very special box make of wood and very old. His mother told him, as soon as he was old enough to understand, that it had belonged to his father and that he had to be careful with it. Merlin didn't know his father; the man had left before Merlin was born. All he had to remember him by was a grainy old photograph and the magic box.
Merlin loved tracing the carving on the lid, imagining the ribbons of wood as snakes, twining around each other, or what they would look like as a stained glass window. He would touch the metal hinges and take the key in and out of the lock. It was magical enough to Merlin without the fact it could conjure things if he wished hard enough.
To make his wish all he had to do was turn the key in the lock until it clicked. Then with his hand on the lid he would squeeze his eyes tightly shut and wish. He would never say the words out loud, his mother had told him that spoken wishes were never granted, but say them in his head, over and over. Then his hand would grow hot and he would know his wish was granted.
He would remove his hand and then turn the key in the lock back the other way. Then, being very careful, he'd lift the lid of the box and peek inside. He would only open the box when he was sure there was something inside it. After lifting out his wished for item he would close the box again but would not lock it.
Of course the box had limits; whatever he wished for had to fit in the box. Merlin had tried wishing for a car once but all that appeared in the box had been a toy; a model. His mother had told him a real car wouldn’t fit.
Merlin also couldn't wish for a living thing like an animal. Although he could wish for flowers they appeared freshly picked and withered as quickly as ones picked from the garden. He tried wishing for a kitten once but it didn't work. He was very sad and had been sure a kitten would have fitted in the box but his mother explained that even magic boxes had limits.
His mother also told him he must be careful how he used his wishes, that if he was too selfish the box would stop working. Of course Merlin, with a child’s curiosity and a child's perception, tried it out by wishing for chocolate cake after chocolate cake. On his tenth wish he smelled something strange from inside the box and discovered green goo that stuck to his hand and took days to wash off. He was very careful after that.
As Merlin grew he began to realise the box wasn't the only thing with magic. He found that he didn't always need the box to conjure an apple or fresh flowers for his mother. He found he could do many things the box couldn't; make his bed, stop a mug of tea from spilling, and mop the floor without picking up the mop.
The box gradually became used less and less but Merlin remained very attached to it. He would still stroke the wood, as smooth as it had always been, and run a finger along the hinge. He wondered if his father had had magic, or if he had just had the magic box. His mother never said anything about it and Merlin never asked.
When Merlin was eighteen he went off to university and took the box with him. It was a familiar reminder of home, a comfort. He didn’t show it off though, but kept it hidden under his bed. That was until his room mate - Arthur, found it when he went rummaging for a pen he'd dropped on the floor.
The first thing Arthur actually pulled out were a few embarrassing pictures of Merlin. He took one look at the top one and laughed.
“What are you laughing at?” Merlin asked, as he stopped looking for Arthur's pen under his desk.
“This,” Arthur replied, turning the photograph around to show Merlin. “I think this is the most hideous Christmas jumper I've ever seen.
Merlin still didn't know why his mother had knitted a scene of Father Christmas and his reindeer flying over a tinsel covered Stone Henge but he quite liked it. “My mother knitted that!” Merlin said.
Arthur was still smiling. “Well, at least her cooking is better than her knitting.”
“Maybe next time she sends a fruitcake I can get her to knit you a jumper,” Merlin said, smiling sweetly.
“Merlin!”
“You'd look good in one of Avebury surrounded by balloons and pink ribbons.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “No-one should be allowed to knit ancient monuments in apocryphal situations,” he said.
“Says the history geek who thought my picture of Caernarfon castle being attacked by a dragon was cool.”
Arthur mumbled something about artistic licence and went back to rummaging under Merlin's bed.
“What's this?” he asked, pulling the magic box out.
“Ummm...it's my magic box,” Merlin replied.
“Magic box?” Arthur looked disbelieving.
“It was my father's,” Merlin said, quietly, coming to sit on the bed. “It's all I have of his.”
“Oh,” Arthur said. There was a pause. “There's still no such thing as a magic box.”
“No, there is,” Merlin insisted. “You put your hand on the box, wish for something and it appears in the box.”
“Let's try in then,” Arthur said, getting up and placing the box on the bed between them. “What do we do?”
Merlin had never actually shown anyone the magic box before, except Will, but that was after Will had known about the rest of Merlin's magic. He would never shown it to Arthur had he not found it. At least he didn't think so. Despite this Arthur was willing to be proven wrong and in the few months of living with him Merlin knew this was a rare thing. “If it works...”
“If it works I'll do your laundry,” Arthur offered his hand out.
“All right,” Merlin agreed, shaking Arthur's hand.
“So, how does it work?” Arthur asked.
“First you turn the key,” Merlin said, waiting for it to make the familiar clicking sounds. “Then you just put your hand on it and wish,” Merlin replied.
“How do I know this isn't a trick?” Arthur asked. “You might have a hidden compartment.”
“Then, wish for something I wouldn’t know about,” Merlin replied.
“Okay.” Arthur placed his hand over the box.
“Close your eyes,” Merlin said, softly.
Arthur did so.
“Now make your wish.”
After a few minutes nothing seemed to have happened. Arthur opened his eyes and lifted his hand off. “Was that it?”
“We can check,” Merlin said.
Arthur opened the box and then gave Merlin a look that seemed to be saying 'I told you so'. The box was empty. “Nothing,” Arthur said.
“I don't understand,” Merlin said, staring at the empty box.
“I told you there's no such thing as magic boxes,” Arthur said, knowingly.
“Maybe you didn't believe enough,” Merlin said. He reached out and grabbed Arthur's hand. It was warm and not as soft as Merlin expected it to be. Arthur squirmed.
“Merlin!”
“Maybe we both need to try it,” he said, putting Arthur's still struggling hand on the top of the box and placing his hand half on and half Arthur’s to pin it down.
“All right then,” Arthur said, and closed his eyes again. “The same wish?”
“Yes.” Merlin closed his eyes too and felt the combination of Arthur's hand and the wood under his hand. It was a stranger feeling. Arthur’s hand was warm and such a different texture to the box. He cleared his mind, letting his magic bubble up as he concentrated on wishing the box to grant Arthur's wish.
This time Merlin could tell what was going on and he could feel the warmth of the box and he could feel Arthur's hand moving, obviously he could feel it too. Merlin held Arthur’s hand firmly. Slowly the warmth faded away and Merlin opened his eyes. “That's it,” he said.
Arthur opened his eyes and lifted his hand off the box and away from Merlin's. He rubbed it. “That didn't happen before,” he murmured.
“Open the box,” Merlin said.
This time Arthur was a little more cautious, opening the lid of the box slowly. Merlin didn't look inside but watched Arthur's expression as it changed from puzzled to shocked. “I don't...this can't be,” Arthur said, and, holding the lid open with one hand, he reached in and took out the object that had appeared.
It was an old photograph, black and white and grainy, very like the picture Merlin had of his father. In fact Merlin would have thought the picture had found its way into the box but this photograph was of a woman, a woman who looked like Arthur.
“What did you wish for?” he asked.
“A picture of my mother,” Arthur replied. “I never knew her and my father doesn't even have her photograph where anyone can see it.”
“Is that your mother?” Merlin asked, indicating the woman in the picture.
Arthur nodded. “I've only seen one, but yes, this is her.”
“She was very beautiful,” Merlin said. “You look like her.” He realised he might just have said Arthur was beautiful, but then he was.
Arthur offered a smile. “Thank you, Merlin.”
“It was the box,” Merlin replied.
“It only worked when you put your hand on it too,” Arthur pointed out.
Merlin blushed. “Yeah, well, magic's weird like that.”
“Magic,” Arthur murmured. “Can you wish for anything?”
“As long as it fits in the box,” Merlin replied. “I tried wishing for a car once.”
“Did it work?”
“I got a model one,”
“How old were you?”
“Six I think.”
“You couldn't have driven a real one anyway.”
Merlin smiled. “That's true.”
“Can we try it again?” Arthur asked.
It was nice, being able to share his magic box with someone, to know someone else knew about magic. “Yeah,” Merlin agreed. “Tomorrow? After we've finished our lectures.”
Arthur nodded. “Sounds good,” he said, getting up off the bed. “Now we need to find that pen.”
Merlin joined him. They both squeezed under the bed and it didn’t feel at all odd to be sharing such a small space together. They eventually found it under the wardrobe after they had discovered several socks, an old mouldy piece of toast and a packet of crisps.
The next day they sat on Merlin's bed together, ready to 'experiment' with the magic box. Merlin had to admit he was interested in seeing what it could do. They started off by seeing if Arthur could wish for anything on his own but after five attempts they decided it wasn't going to happen. Then they tried it with just Merlin's hand on it.
“A daisy, Merlin? That was your wish?” Arthur asked as they observed a flower in the box.
“It's a good wish,” Merlin defended. “Have you got anything to put it in?”
They looked about and in the end Arthur used a mug as a makeshift vase. “You're such a girl, Merlin,” he said.
“It's on your desk.”
“Well,” Arthur huffed. “It's my mug.”
So they established that Merlin could use the box. They discovered that the box still granted wishes with both their hands on it. They experimented with how much each of their hands was on it, Merlin's hand on top of Arthur's, Arthur's on Merlin's and their fingers tangled together. Merlin began to know the feel of Arthur's hand as well as his own.
As they wished and wished the bed filled with the objects they had requested; a pencil with a dog on it that Arthur had wanted as a child, a pebble from a beach Merlin visited as a child, candles and bits of cutlery, a wind-up fish (Merlin explained the no living things rule) and packets of crisps and sweets.
“I think we should stop now,” Merlin said after the eighth packet of polo mints.
“Why?” Arthur asked.
“If you use selfish wishes too much it gets...annoyed,” Merlin said not sure how else to explain it.
“Oh, come on, Merlin.”
“ I'm serious.”
Arthur didn't believe him until he tried wishing for yet more sweets and the box produced the odd green, foul smelling goo.
“I told you,” Merlin said.
“Maybe you had a point,” Arthur replied, rushing off to the bathroom and scrubbing his hand.
That was an end of their experiments for that day. Once Arthur had washed his hands (ten times with water so hot he had nearly scalded himself) they sat on Merlin’s bed together eating polo mints.
“I wonder why it only works when your hand is on it,” Arthur said, brushing his hands against Merlin's as they both reached for another mint.
Merlin fumbled with the packet and offered one to Arthur before taking the next one for himself. “Could be my magic,” he said, quietly.
“You have magic?”
Merlin nodded. He held the polo mint packet balanced on his open palm and concentrated. Carefully it rose up off his hand and stayed suspended in mid-air.
“That's impossible,” Arthur said waving his hand over it as if he was trying to detect the trick.
“No - it's magic,” Merlin said, smiling.
“That's how managed to clean up before your mother came to visit.” Arthur said.
Merlin nodded.
Arthur smiled. “You're a wizard, Merlin!”
“Please, Arthur, don't quote Harry Potter at me.”
“Where's your wand?”
Merlin blushed. “Arthur!”
“Thank you, Merlin,” Arthur said, grabbing another mint.
“For what?”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “You know...this.”
Merlin still wasn't sure what this was, but he was glad Arthur was being calm and pretty good about the whole magic thing. “You too,” he replied.
A few weeks later Arthur was sighing as he sat staring at his laptop screen. “Are you sure I can't wish for a completed paper on the social function of knights in the feudal system?”
Merlin, bust reading looked up from his book. “It didn't help with your last assignment,” he pointed out. “You got an essay on ketchup.”
Arthur shut the lid of the laptop and lay on his bed, sighing even more dramatically. “I can't do this,” he said.
“We could always wish for something to make you feel better,” Merlin offered, going to get the box out.
“I'd still prefer an essay,” Arthur said.
He did cheer up though when they were munching on cream cakes watching a DVD of Monty Python. Merlin made a mental note that the magic box was pretty good with abstract concepts. He was going to mention this to Arthur but he got distracted by the way Arthur carefully wiped a stray bit of cream off his cheek.
Arthur did manage his paper, and got a first for it. Merlin celebrated by wishing Arthur a rosette. Arthur made some comment about it being silly and then promptly stuck it in pride of place on their makeshift noticeboard.
When Merlin came back to their room upset about his favourite book being ruined after falling in a rain puddle Arthur was the one cheering him up by suggesting they wish for a new one. The one the box conjured up seemed absolutely identical. Merlin only found the little note in the front that read 'To Merlin. Enjoy. Arthur' once Arthur had gone to bed.
Sometimes Merlin would take the box out and simply stroke as he had when he was a child. On one such occasion Arthur's hand joined his as he traced the carvings. Merlin smiled at him and entwined their fingers as he touched the lid. Suddenly he felt the box go warm under his hand.
He and Arthur pulled their hands back slowly. “Did you wish for anything?” he asked.
“I don't think I did,” Arthur replied looking as puzzled as Merlin was.
When they opened the box inside was a red paper heart, folded in half. With great care Merlin opened it out. On each side was fancy writing, much neater than either his or Arthur's. On the left side was the message: 'Merlin, my heart belongs to you. Love Arthur' and on the right 'Arthur, my heart belongs to you. Love Merlin.'.
It was clear Arthur was reading it. “Did you wish for...?” he asked, his head near Merlin's shoulder.
Merlin might have fallen a little bit in love with Arthur over the past few months, and late at night he might have wished for a way to tell Arthur this, but he had never thought anything would come of it. “Well, I wasn't wishing it just now,” Merlin said.
“But you would?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah. I would.” Merlin replied.
“I would have too,” Arthur said, moving forward and kissing Merlin.
Merlin awkwardly placed the box out of the way, without lifting his lips from Arthur's. With the box on the floor Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur and began helping him make more wishes come true, the paper heart fluttering to the floor. This was real magic.