It's a Kinda Magic *Snap Snap*
Who: Arthur and Merlin
What: Frolicking about in the park. Oh, and some flying.
Where: The park/playground
When: BACKDATED; Afternoon the day Uther is seventeen
Rating: PG, for excessive fluffing
Status: Slightly incomplete
"We're going out." Arthur turned on his heel to face Merlin who was, God's sake, what was he doing? "Merlin?"
The sudden declaration startled him, and Merlin jumped in his seat, sending the books surrounding him off their piles, and the one in his hand onto the floor. "Arthur!" he exclaimed, then sighed and went about fixing the mess. "I was trying to learn a new spell, and a very complicated one at that, before I was rudely interrupted."
"Fetch my boots." Arthur considered the mess before him and sighed. "Can't you just...magic that away?" Arthur flicked his wrist uncomfortably and glanced away. He'd been confined for too long. Once again, the urge to get outside was becoming unbearable. Only, this time, the only thing stopping them was Merlin's incompetence.
Rolling his eyes, Merlin muttered a few words and sent Arthur's boots sailing into Arthur's hands. Another quick mumbling and the books were clean. It was just habit, he supposed, to do things the non-magical way around Arthur. "Right. Now em... where exactly are we going?"
"Out." Arthur rolled his eyes and grabbed Merlin's hand, tugging him toward the door like an impatient child. In many ways he was. "I can walk, and you need the exercise."
Merlin raised his eyebrows. "Oh, do I? You don't suppose I get enough of that running around trying to save your arse every day?" He glanced at their joined hands then looked away, determined not to think too hard into that today. "Anyway, what does that even mean? I'm perfectly healthy!"
"It means I have no bloody clue what we're going to do, Merlin, so please, be quiet about it." Arthur led them down the stairs to the entry way and paused, already feeling the cold seeping under the door.
Which only made Merlin roll his eyes again as they made it to the door and stepped outside. It was freezing outside, and a little bit windy. But... his hand was warm, at least. "Are you sure you're completely alright now?" He ask, and added before Arthur could get a word in, "Don't snipe and me and don't lie to me. It is too cold to drag your royal hide all about town if you inform me halfway down the line that you can't walk."
"I'm fine." Arthur bristled. He'd said it before. This time he meant it. He felt physically better than he had in three weeks, and it was time to make it beyond the park. There was also the reasonable assurance that if he slipped and fell that Merlin wouldn't let him get him by another 'car'. That had to count for something. "You can stay here if you'd rather not come."
"I'd like to come," Merlin affirmed, satisfied with Arthur's answer. As far as Merlin could tell... and he was pretty sure he was getting good at being able to tell... Arthur was telling the truth. He grinned. "So no idea where we're heading then, Sire?"
Shrugging, Arthur loosened his tight grip on Merlin's hand, lacing their fingers together. People were different here, but this was likely the most comfortable Arthur would ever be.
"No."
Merlin's heart did a little jump for joy and he glanced at Arthur from the corner of his eye with a grin. Then he looked away, not wanting to make Arthur feel uncomfortable. He did, however, move a bit closer to his side. "How have things been with the king?" he asked as they walked. Uther had been aging day by day, and while Merlin had tended to him as a servant, he wasn't sure of how he and Arthur had been interacting with each other.
"He has a crush on Morgana. How do you think it's going?"
Merlin choked on his own breathing then, blue eyes going wide. "What?" he sputtered after recovering. "Arthur, don't be ridiculous."
"We discussed her." Arthur shook his head at Merlin's ridiculous display. "At length."
That got Merlin to turn his gaze quickly to Arthur. "Wait... really? And he actually... said that?"
"At length," Arthur repeated with a frustrated edge in his tone. "There were a number of things I would rather have done, like eaten my foot for example."
Merlin snorted. He had to admit, he understood Arthur's distaste for this revelation. After all, Morgana was practically his sister and until now, Merlin had assumed Uther thought of her as a daughter. Clearly, he'd been wrong. But really, Merlin didn't have much right to disapprove of anyone's romantic inclinations anyway. And Morgana had been so kind and understanding when she'd found out how he felt about Arthur. Startling as it was, it wouldn't be right not to give her and the king the same courtesy... if she even felt the same. "Well... honestly, it's... not incredibly hard to believe. He is seventeen now, and Morgana is a beautiful girl."
"I know." Arthur bit out the words and promptly dropped Merlin's hand. Conversation over. He'd won. He stepped forward a few paces and then stopped, turned, grabbed up Merlin's hand once again and tugged him forward. "We're never speaking of this," he warned, no, threatened, a split second before kissing the corner of Merlin's mouth. "Never," he repeated.
All thoughts of Morgana and Uther flew quickly away, and Merlin felt his face heating scarlet. Biting his lip against the grin that threatened to split his face in two, he squeezed Arthur's hand and nodded. "Right. Never," he agreed, though it was exceedingly difficult to remember what it was that he was agreeing to.
Arthur appeared insufferably smug. "You know, Merlin, it's not quite that cold outside today."
"W-what?" Merlin lifted his eyes again to Arthur's smirking face. What did that mean?
Releasing Merlin's hand, Arthur draped his freed arm around Merlin's shoulders and pulled him close. "Quite nice in fact," he continued blithely. He guided them onto the meandering path that led from one end of the park to the other.
To say Merlin was confused by Arthur's sudden change in mood and topic would be an understatement, not to mention that he thought it was in fact rather chilly today. But in any case, Merlin found himself secured against Arthur's side and he wasn't about to question that. He grinned up at his prince and leaned into him as they walked. "Em... I suppose? Very... nice."
"Idiot." Arthur shook his head. The problem with being here was, 1) it was too bloody cold, always, 2) his father had been seriously considering Morgana in ways Arthur did not like thinking about and 3) despite how hard he tried on a daily basis, he could not, for the life of him, spend more than twenty minutes without thinking about Merlin. Luckily, not all these times were odd. He did spend most of the day larking about with the other boy. That didn't mean he should fall asleep /thinking/ about him. Now that his father was an elf, and there was no convincing Arthur otherwise, the problem of Merlin seemed somewhat less.
And out here, they were about as alone as they could be. Arthur steered them toward the playground. He wasn't ready to leave the park.
And because the answer was somewhat automatic at this point, Merlin retorted, "Prat," and nudged Arthur's side. He looked ahead at the brightly colored structures they were headed toward- the playground. Merlin had seen children playing here many times since they'd arrived in this land, and he had to admit, it looked like fun. Which was why he reached up to grab Arthur's hand again and hurried off in the direction of the slide. "Come on!"
"What?" Arthur gasped, staggering after Merlin, refusing to give up that hand for anything. They stopped before the slide. Arthur stared at it in confusion, morphed the expression into derision and turned to face Merlin. He doubted he fooled him. "You expect me to climb up there and come back down?"
Merlin shot a grin at Arthur over his shoulder and managed to make himself let go of Arthur's hand. "Is it below your princely station to have fun, Sire?" He winked, then hurried up the yellow plastic ladder. Once up to the top, he gave Arthur another grin and an enthusiastic wave before laughing and pushing himself down the slide.
Arthur bristled at the implied challenge and rolled his shoulders while marching over to the ladder. He scurried up it after Merlin, waiting long enough for the sodding idiot to move, before sliding down and falling face first into the snow.
"Merlin?"
"Yes, Sire?" Merlin asked from his seat in the snow beside Arthur.
Arthur crooked his finger to beckon Merlin closer, not pulling his face from the snow.
Brow furrowed slightly but still in high spirits, Merlin moved cautiously to Arthur's side.
Arthur lunged. Grabbing up a fist full of snow, he yanked Merlin closer by the shirt and stuffed the cold white substance inside and bounced to his feet in a few short seconds. He smirked. "Well, Merlin, are you going to play or not?"
With a yelp as the freezing cold snow numbed his entire back, Merlin jumped up as well. But not before grabbing up his own ball of white powder and packing it tightly in his hands. "You'll pay for that, you prat!" he laughed, chasing after Arthur and hurling the snow at the back of his head. Most of it reached its target.
Arthur felt and looked a bit like a snow creature when he finally stopped running long enough to get a few shots in of his own. He'd suspect sorcery, only Merlin's aim was mostly poor, and there was no reason to be suspicious of it in the first place. He collapsed back into the snow, grasping his heart and reaching out a hand, before vanishing into the drift.
Merlin would save him. Or bury him. He didn't know which sounded more appealing.
Lifting his eyebrows as he approached the fallen figure, Merlin laughed at how pathetic the mighty Prince Arthur looked at that moment. Pathetic, and happy, and entirely too endearing. He reached out to grasp Arthur's outstretched hand, but instead of helping him up, he knelt down in the snow beside him. "And you call me an idiot?" he ask with a smile that could only be called affectionate. "You'll freeze to death if you keep that up."
"Can't you magic us warm?" Arthur chose to not wait for an answer. He tugged gently on Merlin's hand, shifting their fingers until they were entwined, and then he tugged again a bit sharp. Lay down.
Whether Arthur waited for the answer or not, the answer was yes, so Merlin muttered a few words and surrounded them both in an invisible bubble of warmth. Then he went silent and registered the meaning of Arthur's tug, lying down in the snow alongside him. If Arthur was planning on shoving his face into the snow or dumping any on him again, that would be alright. It was still a nice moment.
It was a strange sensation, being warm and surrounded by snow, but it seemed utterly fitting with the bizarre events of the week. His head bent low toward Merlin's as a sigh passed his lips. If it wouldn't be impractical, he'd stay there for quite a long period of time. Truth or lie, he still got tired easier when walking around for too long.
Merlin heard the sigh and glanced up at Arthur's face, seeing the signs of weariness there. For a moment he wanted to ask if he was alright, but it seemed wrong to disrupt the quiet peace. So instead, he pushed himself so that he was positioned almost completely over Arthur, and reached out a hand to brush some melting snow from his face. Even after the snow was gone, he kept his hand there, and his gaze for that matter. Both seemed unwilling to move from Arthur's face.
Merlin was extraordinarily goofy looking, Arthur decided. His ears were too big, his grin too wide, eyes too bright. He was lanky, embarrassingly so to Arthur, who had tried and failed to get Merlin some weight on his body. His hands were too soft for a servant and his hair...Arthur raised a hand to Merlin's hair, pushing some of it back with his hand. He didn't know what he was doing any more know than he did months ago. It would have been the same with anyone, but with Merlin, it made him even more confused.
The touch to his hair made him shiver, and his spell made it impossible to blame it on the cold. Arthur was looking at him like he was some sort of intricate puzzle to be solved, or a mystery to be unraveled. And Merlin found that he didn't mind at all. Arthur might be confused about all this, and that was alright, but Merlin on the other hand had never felt so certain about anything. He leaned down and kissed Arthur lightly, wondering if it could begin to answer Arthur's questions in a way that words couldn't.
"Why?" Arthur murmured, curling his fingers into the fine strands of Merlin's hair. It was nicer when washed. He'd force Merlin to bathe more often. He nudged Merlin forward with his hand, drawing his lips along his cheek.
Arthur's one-word question could have meant anything, really. Lowering himself to settle completely against him, Merlin quietly asked into Arthur's ear, "Why what?"
"Do you want me?" The closest Arthur ever came to admitting his uncertainty over his own worth had been when he was twelve and one of the knights thought it was funny to pick on his scrawny form. Never again had he let himself even entertain a thought that was less than flattering about his own person. Certainly, he'd wondered if his actions caused something, but never if there was something intrinsically wrong with his person.
Of all the meanings Arthur's question might have had, Merlin hadn't really been expecting that one. He lifted his head again to meet Arthur's eyes, searching for any hint that he was anything but completely sincere in his uncertainty. As if the hesitancy in his voice hadn't been indication enough. Merlin didn't know why he was surprised by it, really... though Arthur acted like an arrogant dolt so often, he knew better than anyone how much of that was really an act. But to question why someone should love him as Merlin did? It was... very nearly heartbreaking.
And yet, Merlin found he couldn't readily answer. It wasn't a matter he'd ever sat down and analyzed piece by piece, after all. Realizing that he loved Arthur was momentous in itself; questioning the why and how just seemed unnecessary. But now, it seemed, Arthur wasn't satisfied with just a 'because.' So he bit his lip and let his thumb move along Arthur's cheek as he tried to answer. "Because... you're a prat?" he laughed quietly. "You are the bravest, most caring, most selfless, most wonderful prat I have ever met." He paused, then added as an afterthought which he believed explained it better than anything else he could have said, "Because you're Arthur, and I'm Merlin."
For a moment, Arthur simply stared, blank-faced, at Merlin. Every ounce of him suspended in the few brief seconds that Merlin took him seriously and answered him. Like that. He wet his lips uncertainly, hand drifting to Merlin's neck to hold him still. No one had ever called him those things. Brave, all right, he'd been called brave many a time, along with skilled and noble, but never caring or selfless. Everyone acted as if he had no idea what those two words could mean. Guinevere had said as much to him, had placed her faith directly in him, her words to a dying man, but that was the problem. She had told him those things when he was within a breath of dying. She denied ever saying anything when he had awoken.
Merlin was....Merlin was Merlin. He had never made sense before, never conformed to what was expected of him, why should Arthur think he would start now?
"Is that all?" The taunt came out waveringly and not at all close to the teasing tone he had hoped for.
Had the words sounded like the tease Arthur intended, Merlin might have shot back something like 'Don't push it, Sire.' But it didn't take being two sides of the same coin to know that Arthur was still unsure. But... what else could he tell him? Would it be any more convincing for Arthur if Merlin listed each of his virtues one by one? He could do that, were he pressed. But while those qualities... strength, and morality, and compassion, and on and on... were why Merlin admired the prince, and why he knew he'd be a great king... they weren't why he loved him. He didn't love Arthur for what kind of monarch he was. He loved him because he was Arthur. He only wished there was a way to make Arthur see that, and believe that it was good enough. That stripped of the crown and the title and the riches, being Arthur was good enough. "Why do you question it?" he finally asked.
"I'm hardly nice to you, Merlin." The need to point that out was non-existent. Merlin knew as well as Arthur that even when being completely incorrigible, he never meant half of what he said. "Does it really shock you that I'd wonder?"
Merlin shrugged with a small, crooked smile. "Seems I should be the one wondering. Why should the great Prince Arthur care for a lowly servant? A horrible servant, at that," he winked. Shrugging again, he went on with the point he'd been trying to make. "But I don't wonder. Even before I knew if you felt..." he paused and glanced at his hand on Arthur's cheek, indicating what he meant, "...felt like this, I knew you at least cared. I just... had faith in it. And I could feel it. I mean... can't you?"
Fingers tracing over Merlin's collarbone, Arthur merely hummed in response. So many things were distracting his mind, it was easier to focus on one at a time. He never quite knew the words Merlin needed to hear, and by this point, he'd given up on trying to get that right. There were plenty of other ways to get a thought across to a person. Even a person as idiotic as Merlin.
He nuzzled the warm skin of Merlin's cheek, blowing hot air against it, following it close with a kiss. This he could give. This parody of expressive words that got caught in his mouth when he even thought about feelings especially his own.
Despite the several times he and Arthur had done this, Merlin couldn't pretend to be the best at kissing in the world. After all, before Arthur, he hadn't ever experienced it. Not really. Sometimes, Gwen would look at him in that way that made him wonder if he was supposed to be doing something, and maybe that something was to kiss her? Then he would start to think about that, about whether or not he should or wanted to, and what he was supposed to do once he did. It wasn't as if there was some sort of informative book about these things, like his magic book.
Only, with Arthur, it was like... none of that mattered. All those thoughts and uncertainties and utter bafflement just disappeared in a puff of smoke. Like magic. With Arthur, it just felt right. This time was no different. He was smiling as it ended, and he moved off Arthur with a sigh and settled against his side.
"I'm about to say something that I never want to hear repeated from Morgana's mouth." Arthur tilted his head to see Merlin's face. The implied 'or you will no longer have a mouth to speak from' was left lingering above the snow. He fell silent for a moment. Pink stained the top of his cheekbones.
"I was wrong."
Merlin furrowed his brow and met Arthur's eyes. "Wrong? About what?"
"You idiot." Arthur sat up reluctantly, shivering at the sudden burst of cold air. "If you're going to be that thick, I'm not even going to bother."
Having lost Arthur as his pillow, Merlin found himself suddenly cheek-down in the snow. He sat up slowly and felt the chill as well, but wondered if it was due to the weather or the sudden change in mood. "Er... alright," he said, raising his eyebrows. "I'll be sure to work on my comprehension of completely unprecidented statements which do not relate to anything else that was being discussed. Sire."
Arthur picked up a handful of snow and artlessly tossed it at Merlin's mocking face.
With a snort and a small smile (partly forced,) Merlin rubbed the flakes away from his face and moved forward to shove at Arthur's shoulder. He let the warmth-spell fade, as it seemed like they weren't putting it much to use now anyway, and turned his attention back to the prince. The prince who seemed extremely determined not to say anything more revealing than what he already had. Which had been, basically, nothing. "Come on, don't be a prat. What were you going to say?"
"Are you really going to make me spell it out for you, Merlin?" Because if he was, they would both be sitting in that snow until their balls turned blue-ish black and needed to be chiseled off. Arthur struck his fingers through his hair, dislodging chunks of melting snow. He wiped his hand on Merlin's shirt.
"Us, you moron." Arthur could not think of a better way to put it even if he sat there all day thinking about it.
Merlin grabbed the cold hand dampening his shirt, with every intention of simply dropping it back down to Arthur's side. But on a second thought, he held onto it instead. "Us. You were wrong... about us?" He lifted his eyebrows again, questioning. Arthur could call him a moron as much as he wanted, but it didn't change the fact that he was being about as vague and cryptic as the Great Dragon below his castle. A bit nicer to look at, perhaps, but just as baffling.
Arthur glared. "For God's sake, Merlin. Yes, 'us'!"
He jumped to his feet, unsteady for a second as he gained proper footing in the shin deep snow. He didn't want to explain it better than that, and if Merlin couldn't understand what he was admitting, perhaps it wasn't worth the effort.
For a moment, Merlin sat startled, mind reeling. Wrong... what could Arthur have been wrong about that was causing him so much frustration to say? Or, well, not say, as the case may be. The thing of it was, Arthur was always reluctant to say anything substantial that concerned the two of them... as an "us." He'd protested at first, insisting that it was a mistake... and yet they continued to act like it wasn't, despite his resistance.
So to Merlin, 'I was wrong about us' really could have meant any number of things. However... Arthur's refusal to expand any more on the matter spoke volumes, now that he thought about it. After all, Arthur never had a problem telling anyone what he thought, least of all Merlin... provided that what he thought was an insult or an observation that wouldn't leave him in any way... vulnerable. Which meant that whatever he was trying to tell Merlin... was something he felt he'd be somehow weakened by saying.
Which could only mean... "Arthur, are you saying... you were wrong in thinking this was a mistake? Are you saying that..." he reached for Arthur's hand again, "that this is right?"
Arthur rolled his eyes. Without fair warning, he pulled Merlin out of the snow like a girl would her doll and braced his hands on the young sorcerer's hips. "Yes."
Merlin's breath caught in his chest as he was yanked from his seat in the snow. "Ah," he replied as his arms found their way around Arthur. One bloody word, and Merlin's grin was practically splitting his face in two. "That's-- good! That's good."
Humming lightly, Arthur leaned forward until their noses brushed against one another. It shocked him how glad he was for that stupid smile of Merlin's to have finally appeared. That it hadn't appeared in his presence for so long was a mark of his own idiocy. Merlin was like a puppy, a large, gangly puppy, and Arthur had berated it one time too many.
He was sick of caring what people would think of him for lowering himself to take Merlin on as more than a quick shag. His father would have a few words about it. Luckily, Arthur wouldn't be hearing them for quite some time yet.
Merlin bit his lip, completely unable and unwilling to repress how happy he felt in this moment. It was practically bursting through him, and if he didn't do something other than grin soon, he was sure the magic coursing through his veins would cause the entire park to turn to rainbow fairy dust. Or overrun the town with unicorns. Or something. So he did the one thing he deemed appropriate for the situation at hand; he leaned in the small bit of distance Arthur had not, and kissed him fully, still smiling.
"Thank you. For... for telling me," Merlin sighed quietly, now blushing a bit. He realized now that it had been difficult for Arthur to confess what he had, even with Merlin's prodding. "It's all I wanted to hear."
The full weight of Arthur's gaze could not possibly convey the sheer level of 'you're a complete girl' he felt toward Merlin in that moment. Thank you for telling me? He even blushed!
Arthur wondered what it said about him when he choose to run his thumb along the curve of Merlin's cheek and cocked his head to graze Merlin's neck with his lips.
Merlin shut his eyes in contentment as he tilted his head to let Arthur continue. He lifted a hand to card his fingers through Arthur's hair, holding him close as he could. "Em... that spell I was working on before we left? Do you... do you mind if I try it?" he asked suddenly. Because it dawned on him, that his magic could work better in the warm, exhilarating giddiness of this moment than it could at any other. And if he could make it work, there was no one else he'd rather share it with.
There was a strange feeling of familiarity in the way Merlin's fingers tangled in his hair. One Arthur couldn't shake, nor wanted to. It was old and lingering from back before they arrived here. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what Merlin was doing near his head that he did not know about.
"Is it dangerous?" Arthur asked, not condemning but curious. He wanted to see whatever it was Merlin was eager to show, but if there was potential for imminent disaster, he'd rather dispel the threat before it came to fruition.
Merlin laughed shortly, fingers moving of their own accord from Arthur's hair to stroke along the back of his neck. "Since when has a little danger ever stopped you, Sire?" The truth was, yes, this could potentially cause an injury of some sort. But one thing was certain- Merlin would not let it be Arthur who got hurt. "Just hold on tightly," he instructed, wrapping his own arms around Arthur's shoulders and back. Then he squeezed his eyes shut, and focused on the magic. "Lætaþ
flíehen," he muttered.
Nothing happened.
Both of Arthur's lifted in amusement. "We're sure you're a sorcerer, right?"
"Shut up," Merlin retorted, smiling in spite of it. "It's not as easy as you'd think. It takes a lot of practice and concentration." True to his statement, he tried to concentrate harder on the spell and what it was meant to do. He focused on his power, and on the way everything felt brighter and sharper when he could be with Arthur like this. He took a deep breath and tried the words again. And felt the slightest jolt, quick, but there nonetheless.
Sure enough, when he opened his eyes again and glanced downward, he found that they were hoovering a good three or four inches from the snow-covered ground. "Wow," Merlin breathed with a slow grin. "I did it!"
"You--" Arthur followed Merlin's gaze downward and-- "What did you do?"
"What does it look like I did?" Merlin rolled his eyes, grinning harder when he saw that they hadn't come down yet. He couldn't believe he'd actually made it work! Sure to keep his hold on the spell, he answered Arthur's question despite the obviousness it. "We're flying!"
Arthur shook his head, fingers curling into Merlin's waist. If they fell, they'd land easy. It didn't make him less easy. "This...is not flying. We're floating."
The protest couldn't drag Merlin down, literally or figuratively. His spirits were soaring, even if he wasn't. Yet. "Good point," he observed. Then he leaned out of his embrace just far enough to look Arthur in the eyes before letting a burst of magic shoot through him, sending them whooshing higher than the nearby lampposts in a matter of seconds. A gleeful laugh escaped his throat, partly out of gladness for getting the spell right, partly out of how much fun the action was, and partly (mostly) because of the brilliance of this entire day.
Arthur absolutely did not panic. Or look down. Swallowing back a startled yelp, he dug his fingers into Merlin's back, waiting for them to stop moving. The fact that Merlin was laughing like a deranged lunatic did not make Arthur's lurching stomach calm. He never should have goaded Merlin.
It took a forceful effort to remind himself that while Merlin was an idiot, he wasn't an idiot who had a death wish for Arthur.
Once Merlin felt he had a good, solid grip on the spell and could divide his attention a bit, he realized that Arthur's fingers were fairly buried into his shoulder blades. It was verging on painful, really. He looked carefully at Arthur's face, which he couldn't help but notice was more than a little tense and a good ten shades paler than usual. He had no choice but to let out an amused bark of laughter and slow down their movements. "You're not afraid, are you, Sire?"
What: Frolicking about in the park. Oh, and some flying.
Where: The park/playground
When: BACKDATED; Afternoon the day Uther is seventeen
Rating: PG, for excessive fluffing
Status: Slightly incomplete
"We're going out." Arthur turned on his heel to face Merlin who was, God's sake, what was he doing? "Merlin?"
The sudden declaration startled him, and Merlin jumped in his seat, sending the books surrounding him off their piles, and the one in his hand onto the floor. "Arthur!" he exclaimed, then sighed and went about fixing the mess. "I was trying to learn a new spell, and a very complicated one at that, before I was rudely interrupted."
"Fetch my boots." Arthur considered the mess before him and sighed. "Can't you just...magic that away?" Arthur flicked his wrist uncomfortably and glanced away. He'd been confined for too long. Once again, the urge to get outside was becoming unbearable. Only, this time, the only thing stopping them was Merlin's incompetence.
Rolling his eyes, Merlin muttered a few words and sent Arthur's boots sailing into Arthur's hands. Another quick mumbling and the books were clean. It was just habit, he supposed, to do things the non-magical way around Arthur. "Right. Now em... where exactly are we going?"
"Out." Arthur rolled his eyes and grabbed Merlin's hand, tugging him toward the door like an impatient child. In many ways he was. "I can walk, and you need the exercise."
Merlin raised his eyebrows. "Oh, do I? You don't suppose I get enough of that running around trying to save your arse every day?" He glanced at their joined hands then looked away, determined not to think too hard into that today. "Anyway, what does that even mean? I'm perfectly healthy!"
"It means I have no bloody clue what we're going to do, Merlin, so please, be quiet about it." Arthur led them down the stairs to the entry way and paused, already feeling the cold seeping under the door.
Which only made Merlin roll his eyes again as they made it to the door and stepped outside. It was freezing outside, and a little bit windy. But... his hand was warm, at least. "Are you sure you're completely alright now?" He ask, and added before Arthur could get a word in, "Don't snipe and me and don't lie to me. It is too cold to drag your royal hide all about town if you inform me halfway down the line that you can't walk."
"I'm fine." Arthur bristled. He'd said it before. This time he meant it. He felt physically better than he had in three weeks, and it was time to make it beyond the park. There was also the reasonable assurance that if he slipped and fell that Merlin wouldn't let him get him by another 'car'. That had to count for something. "You can stay here if you'd rather not come."
"I'd like to come," Merlin affirmed, satisfied with Arthur's answer. As far as Merlin could tell... and he was pretty sure he was getting good at being able to tell... Arthur was telling the truth. He grinned. "So no idea where we're heading then, Sire?"
Shrugging, Arthur loosened his tight grip on Merlin's hand, lacing their fingers together. People were different here, but this was likely the most comfortable Arthur would ever be.
"No."
Merlin's heart did a little jump for joy and he glanced at Arthur from the corner of his eye with a grin. Then he looked away, not wanting to make Arthur feel uncomfortable. He did, however, move a bit closer to his side. "How have things been with the king?" he asked as they walked. Uther had been aging day by day, and while Merlin had tended to him as a servant, he wasn't sure of how he and Arthur had been interacting with each other.
"He has a crush on Morgana. How do you think it's going?"
Merlin choked on his own breathing then, blue eyes going wide. "What?" he sputtered after recovering. "Arthur, don't be ridiculous."
"We discussed her." Arthur shook his head at Merlin's ridiculous display. "At length."
That got Merlin to turn his gaze quickly to Arthur. "Wait... really? And he actually... said that?"
"At length," Arthur repeated with a frustrated edge in his tone. "There were a number of things I would rather have done, like eaten my foot for example."
Merlin snorted. He had to admit, he understood Arthur's distaste for this revelation. After all, Morgana was practically his sister and until now, Merlin had assumed Uther thought of her as a daughter. Clearly, he'd been wrong. But really, Merlin didn't have much right to disapprove of anyone's romantic inclinations anyway. And Morgana had been so kind and understanding when she'd found out how he felt about Arthur. Startling as it was, it wouldn't be right not to give her and the king the same courtesy... if she even felt the same. "Well... honestly, it's... not incredibly hard to believe. He is seventeen now, and Morgana is a beautiful girl."
"I know." Arthur bit out the words and promptly dropped Merlin's hand. Conversation over. He'd won. He stepped forward a few paces and then stopped, turned, grabbed up Merlin's hand once again and tugged him forward. "We're never speaking of this," he warned, no, threatened, a split second before kissing the corner of Merlin's mouth. "Never," he repeated.
All thoughts of Morgana and Uther flew quickly away, and Merlin felt his face heating scarlet. Biting his lip against the grin that threatened to split his face in two, he squeezed Arthur's hand and nodded. "Right. Never," he agreed, though it was exceedingly difficult to remember what it was that he was agreeing to.
Arthur appeared insufferably smug. "You know, Merlin, it's not quite that cold outside today."
"W-what?" Merlin lifted his eyes again to Arthur's smirking face. What did that mean?
Releasing Merlin's hand, Arthur draped his freed arm around Merlin's shoulders and pulled him close. "Quite nice in fact," he continued blithely. He guided them onto the meandering path that led from one end of the park to the other.
To say Merlin was confused by Arthur's sudden change in mood and topic would be an understatement, not to mention that he thought it was in fact rather chilly today. But in any case, Merlin found himself secured against Arthur's side and he wasn't about to question that. He grinned up at his prince and leaned into him as they walked. "Em... I suppose? Very... nice."
"Idiot." Arthur shook his head. The problem with being here was, 1) it was too bloody cold, always, 2) his father had been seriously considering Morgana in ways Arthur did not like thinking about and 3) despite how hard he tried on a daily basis, he could not, for the life of him, spend more than twenty minutes without thinking about Merlin. Luckily, not all these times were odd. He did spend most of the day larking about with the other boy. That didn't mean he should fall asleep /thinking/ about him. Now that his father was an elf, and there was no convincing Arthur otherwise, the problem of Merlin seemed somewhat less.
And out here, they were about as alone as they could be. Arthur steered them toward the playground. He wasn't ready to leave the park.
And because the answer was somewhat automatic at this point, Merlin retorted, "Prat," and nudged Arthur's side. He looked ahead at the brightly colored structures they were headed toward- the playground. Merlin had seen children playing here many times since they'd arrived in this land, and he had to admit, it looked like fun. Which was why he reached up to grab Arthur's hand again and hurried off in the direction of the slide. "Come on!"
"What?" Arthur gasped, staggering after Merlin, refusing to give up that hand for anything. They stopped before the slide. Arthur stared at it in confusion, morphed the expression into derision and turned to face Merlin. He doubted he fooled him. "You expect me to climb up there and come back down?"
Merlin shot a grin at Arthur over his shoulder and managed to make himself let go of Arthur's hand. "Is it below your princely station to have fun, Sire?" He winked, then hurried up the yellow plastic ladder. Once up to the top, he gave Arthur another grin and an enthusiastic wave before laughing and pushing himself down the slide.
Arthur bristled at the implied challenge and rolled his shoulders while marching over to the ladder. He scurried up it after Merlin, waiting long enough for the sodding idiot to move, before sliding down and falling face first into the snow.
"Merlin?"
"Yes, Sire?" Merlin asked from his seat in the snow beside Arthur.
Arthur crooked his finger to beckon Merlin closer, not pulling his face from the snow.
Brow furrowed slightly but still in high spirits, Merlin moved cautiously to Arthur's side.
Arthur lunged. Grabbing up a fist full of snow, he yanked Merlin closer by the shirt and stuffed the cold white substance inside and bounced to his feet in a few short seconds. He smirked. "Well, Merlin, are you going to play or not?"
With a yelp as the freezing cold snow numbed his entire back, Merlin jumped up as well. But not before grabbing up his own ball of white powder and packing it tightly in his hands. "You'll pay for that, you prat!" he laughed, chasing after Arthur and hurling the snow at the back of his head. Most of it reached its target.
Arthur felt and looked a bit like a snow creature when he finally stopped running long enough to get a few shots in of his own. He'd suspect sorcery, only Merlin's aim was mostly poor, and there was no reason to be suspicious of it in the first place. He collapsed back into the snow, grasping his heart and reaching out a hand, before vanishing into the drift.
Merlin would save him. Or bury him. He didn't know which sounded more appealing.
Lifting his eyebrows as he approached the fallen figure, Merlin laughed at how pathetic the mighty Prince Arthur looked at that moment. Pathetic, and happy, and entirely too endearing. He reached out to grasp Arthur's outstretched hand, but instead of helping him up, he knelt down in the snow beside him. "And you call me an idiot?" he ask with a smile that could only be called affectionate. "You'll freeze to death if you keep that up."
"Can't you magic us warm?" Arthur chose to not wait for an answer. He tugged gently on Merlin's hand, shifting their fingers until they were entwined, and then he tugged again a bit sharp. Lay down.
Whether Arthur waited for the answer or not, the answer was yes, so Merlin muttered a few words and surrounded them both in an invisible bubble of warmth. Then he went silent and registered the meaning of Arthur's tug, lying down in the snow alongside him. If Arthur was planning on shoving his face into the snow or dumping any on him again, that would be alright. It was still a nice moment.
It was a strange sensation, being warm and surrounded by snow, but it seemed utterly fitting with the bizarre events of the week. His head bent low toward Merlin's as a sigh passed his lips. If it wouldn't be impractical, he'd stay there for quite a long period of time. Truth or lie, he still got tired easier when walking around for too long.
Merlin heard the sigh and glanced up at Arthur's face, seeing the signs of weariness there. For a moment he wanted to ask if he was alright, but it seemed wrong to disrupt the quiet peace. So instead, he pushed himself so that he was positioned almost completely over Arthur, and reached out a hand to brush some melting snow from his face. Even after the snow was gone, he kept his hand there, and his gaze for that matter. Both seemed unwilling to move from Arthur's face.
Merlin was extraordinarily goofy looking, Arthur decided. His ears were too big, his grin too wide, eyes too bright. He was lanky, embarrassingly so to Arthur, who had tried and failed to get Merlin some weight on his body. His hands were too soft for a servant and his hair...Arthur raised a hand to Merlin's hair, pushing some of it back with his hand. He didn't know what he was doing any more know than he did months ago. It would have been the same with anyone, but with Merlin, it made him even more confused.
The touch to his hair made him shiver, and his spell made it impossible to blame it on the cold. Arthur was looking at him like he was some sort of intricate puzzle to be solved, or a mystery to be unraveled. And Merlin found that he didn't mind at all. Arthur might be confused about all this, and that was alright, but Merlin on the other hand had never felt so certain about anything. He leaned down and kissed Arthur lightly, wondering if it could begin to answer Arthur's questions in a way that words couldn't.
"Why?" Arthur murmured, curling his fingers into the fine strands of Merlin's hair. It was nicer when washed. He'd force Merlin to bathe more often. He nudged Merlin forward with his hand, drawing his lips along his cheek.
Arthur's one-word question could have meant anything, really. Lowering himself to settle completely against him, Merlin quietly asked into Arthur's ear, "Why what?"
"Do you want me?" The closest Arthur ever came to admitting his uncertainty over his own worth had been when he was twelve and one of the knights thought it was funny to pick on his scrawny form. Never again had he let himself even entertain a thought that was less than flattering about his own person. Certainly, he'd wondered if his actions caused something, but never if there was something intrinsically wrong with his person.
Of all the meanings Arthur's question might have had, Merlin hadn't really been expecting that one. He lifted his head again to meet Arthur's eyes, searching for any hint that he was anything but completely sincere in his uncertainty. As if the hesitancy in his voice hadn't been indication enough. Merlin didn't know why he was surprised by it, really... though Arthur acted like an arrogant dolt so often, he knew better than anyone how much of that was really an act. But to question why someone should love him as Merlin did? It was... very nearly heartbreaking.
And yet, Merlin found he couldn't readily answer. It wasn't a matter he'd ever sat down and analyzed piece by piece, after all. Realizing that he loved Arthur was momentous in itself; questioning the why and how just seemed unnecessary. But now, it seemed, Arthur wasn't satisfied with just a 'because.' So he bit his lip and let his thumb move along Arthur's cheek as he tried to answer. "Because... you're a prat?" he laughed quietly. "You are the bravest, most caring, most selfless, most wonderful prat I have ever met." He paused, then added as an afterthought which he believed explained it better than anything else he could have said, "Because you're Arthur, and I'm Merlin."
For a moment, Arthur simply stared, blank-faced, at Merlin. Every ounce of him suspended in the few brief seconds that Merlin took him seriously and answered him. Like that. He wet his lips uncertainly, hand drifting to Merlin's neck to hold him still. No one had ever called him those things. Brave, all right, he'd been called brave many a time, along with skilled and noble, but never caring or selfless. Everyone acted as if he had no idea what those two words could mean. Guinevere had said as much to him, had placed her faith directly in him, her words to a dying man, but that was the problem. She had told him those things when he was within a breath of dying. She denied ever saying anything when he had awoken.
Merlin was....Merlin was Merlin. He had never made sense before, never conformed to what was expected of him, why should Arthur think he would start now?
"Is that all?" The taunt came out waveringly and not at all close to the teasing tone he had hoped for.
Had the words sounded like the tease Arthur intended, Merlin might have shot back something like 'Don't push it, Sire.' But it didn't take being two sides of the same coin to know that Arthur was still unsure. But... what else could he tell him? Would it be any more convincing for Arthur if Merlin listed each of his virtues one by one? He could do that, were he pressed. But while those qualities... strength, and morality, and compassion, and on and on... were why Merlin admired the prince, and why he knew he'd be a great king... they weren't why he loved him. He didn't love Arthur for what kind of monarch he was. He loved him because he was Arthur. He only wished there was a way to make Arthur see that, and believe that it was good enough. That stripped of the crown and the title and the riches, being Arthur was good enough. "Why do you question it?" he finally asked.
"I'm hardly nice to you, Merlin." The need to point that out was non-existent. Merlin knew as well as Arthur that even when being completely incorrigible, he never meant half of what he said. "Does it really shock you that I'd wonder?"
Merlin shrugged with a small, crooked smile. "Seems I should be the one wondering. Why should the great Prince Arthur care for a lowly servant? A horrible servant, at that," he winked. Shrugging again, he went on with the point he'd been trying to make. "But I don't wonder. Even before I knew if you felt..." he paused and glanced at his hand on Arthur's cheek, indicating what he meant, "...felt like this, I knew you at least cared. I just... had faith in it. And I could feel it. I mean... can't you?"
Fingers tracing over Merlin's collarbone, Arthur merely hummed in response. So many things were distracting his mind, it was easier to focus on one at a time. He never quite knew the words Merlin needed to hear, and by this point, he'd given up on trying to get that right. There were plenty of other ways to get a thought across to a person. Even a person as idiotic as Merlin.
He nuzzled the warm skin of Merlin's cheek, blowing hot air against it, following it close with a kiss. This he could give. This parody of expressive words that got caught in his mouth when he even thought about feelings especially his own.
Despite the several times he and Arthur had done this, Merlin couldn't pretend to be the best at kissing in the world. After all, before Arthur, he hadn't ever experienced it. Not really. Sometimes, Gwen would look at him in that way that made him wonder if he was supposed to be doing something, and maybe that something was to kiss her? Then he would start to think about that, about whether or not he should or wanted to, and what he was supposed to do once he did. It wasn't as if there was some sort of informative book about these things, like his magic book.
Only, with Arthur, it was like... none of that mattered. All those thoughts and uncertainties and utter bafflement just disappeared in a puff of smoke. Like magic. With Arthur, it just felt right. This time was no different. He was smiling as it ended, and he moved off Arthur with a sigh and settled against his side.
"I'm about to say something that I never want to hear repeated from Morgana's mouth." Arthur tilted his head to see Merlin's face. The implied 'or you will no longer have a mouth to speak from' was left lingering above the snow. He fell silent for a moment. Pink stained the top of his cheekbones.
"I was wrong."
Merlin furrowed his brow and met Arthur's eyes. "Wrong? About what?"
"You idiot." Arthur sat up reluctantly, shivering at the sudden burst of cold air. "If you're going to be that thick, I'm not even going to bother."
Having lost Arthur as his pillow, Merlin found himself suddenly cheek-down in the snow. He sat up slowly and felt the chill as well, but wondered if it was due to the weather or the sudden change in mood. "Er... alright," he said, raising his eyebrows. "I'll be sure to work on my comprehension of completely unprecidented statements which do not relate to anything else that was being discussed. Sire."
Arthur picked up a handful of snow and artlessly tossed it at Merlin's mocking face.
With a snort and a small smile (partly forced,) Merlin rubbed the flakes away from his face and moved forward to shove at Arthur's shoulder. He let the warmth-spell fade, as it seemed like they weren't putting it much to use now anyway, and turned his attention back to the prince. The prince who seemed extremely determined not to say anything more revealing than what he already had. Which had been, basically, nothing. "Come on, don't be a prat. What were you going to say?"
"Are you really going to make me spell it out for you, Merlin?" Because if he was, they would both be sitting in that snow until their balls turned blue-ish black and needed to be chiseled off. Arthur struck his fingers through his hair, dislodging chunks of melting snow. He wiped his hand on Merlin's shirt.
"Us, you moron." Arthur could not think of a better way to put it even if he sat there all day thinking about it.
Merlin grabbed the cold hand dampening his shirt, with every intention of simply dropping it back down to Arthur's side. But on a second thought, he held onto it instead. "Us. You were wrong... about us?" He lifted his eyebrows again, questioning. Arthur could call him a moron as much as he wanted, but it didn't change the fact that he was being about as vague and cryptic as the Great Dragon below his castle. A bit nicer to look at, perhaps, but just as baffling.
Arthur glared. "For God's sake, Merlin. Yes, 'us'!"
He jumped to his feet, unsteady for a second as he gained proper footing in the shin deep snow. He didn't want to explain it better than that, and if Merlin couldn't understand what he was admitting, perhaps it wasn't worth the effort.
For a moment, Merlin sat startled, mind reeling. Wrong... what could Arthur have been wrong about that was causing him so much frustration to say? Or, well, not say, as the case may be. The thing of it was, Arthur was always reluctant to say anything substantial that concerned the two of them... as an "us." He'd protested at first, insisting that it was a mistake... and yet they continued to act like it wasn't, despite his resistance.
So to Merlin, 'I was wrong about us' really could have meant any number of things. However... Arthur's refusal to expand any more on the matter spoke volumes, now that he thought about it. After all, Arthur never had a problem telling anyone what he thought, least of all Merlin... provided that what he thought was an insult or an observation that wouldn't leave him in any way... vulnerable. Which meant that whatever he was trying to tell Merlin... was something he felt he'd be somehow weakened by saying.
Which could only mean... "Arthur, are you saying... you were wrong in thinking this was a mistake? Are you saying that..." he reached for Arthur's hand again, "that this is right?"
Arthur rolled his eyes. Without fair warning, he pulled Merlin out of the snow like a girl would her doll and braced his hands on the young sorcerer's hips. "Yes."
Merlin's breath caught in his chest as he was yanked from his seat in the snow. "Ah," he replied as his arms found their way around Arthur. One bloody word, and Merlin's grin was practically splitting his face in two. "That's-- good! That's good."
Humming lightly, Arthur leaned forward until their noses brushed against one another. It shocked him how glad he was for that stupid smile of Merlin's to have finally appeared. That it hadn't appeared in his presence for so long was a mark of his own idiocy. Merlin was like a puppy, a large, gangly puppy, and Arthur had berated it one time too many.
He was sick of caring what people would think of him for lowering himself to take Merlin on as more than a quick shag. His father would have a few words about it. Luckily, Arthur wouldn't be hearing them for quite some time yet.
Merlin bit his lip, completely unable and unwilling to repress how happy he felt in this moment. It was practically bursting through him, and if he didn't do something other than grin soon, he was sure the magic coursing through his veins would cause the entire park to turn to rainbow fairy dust. Or overrun the town with unicorns. Or something. So he did the one thing he deemed appropriate for the situation at hand; he leaned in the small bit of distance Arthur had not, and kissed him fully, still smiling.
"Thank you. For... for telling me," Merlin sighed quietly, now blushing a bit. He realized now that it had been difficult for Arthur to confess what he had, even with Merlin's prodding. "It's all I wanted to hear."
The full weight of Arthur's gaze could not possibly convey the sheer level of 'you're a complete girl' he felt toward Merlin in that moment. Thank you for telling me? He even blushed!
Arthur wondered what it said about him when he choose to run his thumb along the curve of Merlin's cheek and cocked his head to graze Merlin's neck with his lips.
Merlin shut his eyes in contentment as he tilted his head to let Arthur continue. He lifted a hand to card his fingers through Arthur's hair, holding him close as he could. "Em... that spell I was working on before we left? Do you... do you mind if I try it?" he asked suddenly. Because it dawned on him, that his magic could work better in the warm, exhilarating giddiness of this moment than it could at any other. And if he could make it work, there was no one else he'd rather share it with.
There was a strange feeling of familiarity in the way Merlin's fingers tangled in his hair. One Arthur couldn't shake, nor wanted to. It was old and lingering from back before they arrived here. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what Merlin was doing near his head that he did not know about.
"Is it dangerous?" Arthur asked, not condemning but curious. He wanted to see whatever it was Merlin was eager to show, but if there was potential for imminent disaster, he'd rather dispel the threat before it came to fruition.
Merlin laughed shortly, fingers moving of their own accord from Arthur's hair to stroke along the back of his neck. "Since when has a little danger ever stopped you, Sire?" The truth was, yes, this could potentially cause an injury of some sort. But one thing was certain- Merlin would not let it be Arthur who got hurt. "Just hold on tightly," he instructed, wrapping his own arms around Arthur's shoulders and back. Then he squeezed his eyes shut, and focused on the magic. "Lætaþ
flíehen," he muttered.
Nothing happened.
Both of Arthur's lifted in amusement. "We're sure you're a sorcerer, right?"
"Shut up," Merlin retorted, smiling in spite of it. "It's not as easy as you'd think. It takes a lot of practice and concentration." True to his statement, he tried to concentrate harder on the spell and what it was meant to do. He focused on his power, and on the way everything felt brighter and sharper when he could be with Arthur like this. He took a deep breath and tried the words again. And felt the slightest jolt, quick, but there nonetheless.
Sure enough, when he opened his eyes again and glanced downward, he found that they were hoovering a good three or four inches from the snow-covered ground. "Wow," Merlin breathed with a slow grin. "I did it!"
"You--" Arthur followed Merlin's gaze downward and-- "What did you do?"
"What does it look like I did?" Merlin rolled his eyes, grinning harder when he saw that they hadn't come down yet. He couldn't believe he'd actually made it work! Sure to keep his hold on the spell, he answered Arthur's question despite the obviousness it. "We're flying!"
Arthur shook his head, fingers curling into Merlin's waist. If they fell, they'd land easy. It didn't make him less easy. "This...is not flying. We're floating."
The protest couldn't drag Merlin down, literally or figuratively. His spirits were soaring, even if he wasn't. Yet. "Good point," he observed. Then he leaned out of his embrace just far enough to look Arthur in the eyes before letting a burst of magic shoot through him, sending them whooshing higher than the nearby lampposts in a matter of seconds. A gleeful laugh escaped his throat, partly out of gladness for getting the spell right, partly out of how much fun the action was, and partly (mostly) because of the brilliance of this entire day.
Arthur absolutely did not panic. Or look down. Swallowing back a startled yelp, he dug his fingers into Merlin's back, waiting for them to stop moving. The fact that Merlin was laughing like a deranged lunatic did not make Arthur's lurching stomach calm. He never should have goaded Merlin.
It took a forceful effort to remind himself that while Merlin was an idiot, he wasn't an idiot who had a death wish for Arthur.
Once Merlin felt he had a good, solid grip on the spell and could divide his attention a bit, he realized that Arthur's fingers were fairly buried into his shoulder blades. It was verging on painful, really. He looked carefully at Arthur's face, which he couldn't help but notice was more than a little tense and a good ten shades paler than usual. He had no choice but to let out an amused bark of laughter and slow down their movements. "You're not afraid, are you, Sire?"