Winter Advent 2011 - Day 21
adventchallenge Day: 21
Title: Truly
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rated: PG-13 Words: 2552
Warning: brief appearances of Gwen (for those who dislike her), yet another variation of the reveal
Summary: Merlin cannot understand how Arthur could have forgiven Gwen, until his magic manifests itself and Arthur forgives him too
Prompts supplied by mahmfic Magical induced white Christmas, and Christmas waltz
Following Merlin’s thoughts was like chasing snowflakes through an ever-changing wind.
Normally, Yule was his favourite time of year. Even as a child when all he received was a smile, hug and affectionate words from his mother. He sent Hunith a personal gift this year rather than something practical and assured her in writing that a letter from her would be all he needed to fill his heart. That was when the wedding between Arthur and Gwen was a non-event. This afternoon they pledged their vows in front of the court and invited guests. The combined Yule and wedding feast began in the evening.
Lancelot may have been a shade controlled by another, but Gwen wasn’t. What was her excuse for what occurred between them? ‘I suddenly couldn’t control myself’ didn’t cut it for Merlin. How could Arthur marry her, knowing of her indecisive heart? How could Merlin know Arthur so well yet not know his own heart until the bridal dance?
Merlin left the Great Hall and went upstairs to ensure the King’s room was ready to receive its fickle Queen. Snow began to fall in opposition to his ascent.
There were no clouds.
*~~~*
Gwen and Arthur watched their friend’s sadness increase as the celebration wore on. Other servants had joined the dancing at their King’s invitation. This was a time for all to rejoice, not merely the nobility, and the servants had worked hard to make the occasion spectacular.
Gwaine tried urging Merlin to dance with the head cook, much to everyone’s amusement. “You’re as thin as she is fat,” he leered drunkenly. Merlin pushed him away with a grimace. Gwen was on Merlin’s side, but she wished he would dance. He even declined her earlier invitation.
“He must be terribly lonely,” Gwen said with sincere sympathy as she danced again with her husband.
Arthur’s eyes followed Merlin’s slumped figure out of the hall. “I’ll see to him before the night is over,” he assured Gwen.
“Be gentle. He doesn’t understand as we do.”
“You’re convinced he’ll never forgive you?”
“I’m more concerned that he can’t forgive your forgiveness of me.”
“No more wine for you, you’re starting to sound like Gwaine.” Arthur took his wife’s hand and pressed it to his lips with a teasing smile, which Gwen returned. The crowd cheered to see their King and Queen display such affection in public. They did not hear his lowered voice continue as they whirled in time with the music. “If we included Merlin in certain discussions, as I desired…”
“Do I say ‘I told you so’ when I’m right?” Gwen murmured against his cheek. They exchanged friendly smiles as they twirled apart and then back together as the dance demanded. The nature of their love for each other may have changed, but it still ran deep. “Don’t leave it too long, Arthur. You need him.”
*~~~*
Merlin glowered as he plumped pillows, placed filled vases by the bedside, and tossed fallen petals into the fire. He muttered about trust, betrayal, loyalty, love, and misguided compassion. Arthur had always been easily misled by a pretty face. Sophia, Nimueh, Morgana, Morgause, Gwen-Catrina and Vivien had been the only exceptions. What rankled most was the need to loiter here in case the happy couple required anything when they eventually came upstairs. He could be downstairs enjoying the party like the other plebeians, dancing and socialising for a fantasy hour or two before resuming their usual duties. Then again, he’d only narrowly escaped Gwaine’s horrendous attempts at matchmaking.
He snorted back a chortle and from the corner of his eye noticed a hiccup in the flurry of snow. That was odd. He stepped closer to the window.
“Everything seems in order here. You may join the frivolities if you wish.”
Arthur’s voice startled him and a cold sheet of snow slapped against the window as Merlin replied with a clenched jaw.
“I’ll just leave you two alone then.” He turned to find Arthur alone. “Where’s Queen Guinevere?” Merlin asked in surprise.
There was another hiccup in the snow.
“Gwen’s downstairs dancing with anyone who can still stand. She and Elena were wooing the crowd with their rendition of a popular reel.” Arthur’s amusement was muted by Merlin’s melancholy evening. “We noticed you didn’t dance. I noticed,” he amended. His finger ran along the top of the table as he walked through the room. His eyes watched it keenly as he carefully weighed his words. “I haven’t said this before and never will again, but I am sorry for telling you Morgana was beyond your reach.”
Merlin was genuinely confused. Arthur looked over Merlin’s shoulder and saw snow spiralling outside the window.
“Beg pardon?” Merlin asked to distract Arthur from whatever drew puzzlement across his features.
“The two of you were becoming quite close before Morgause corrupted her with sorcery and schemes. Morgana counted you as a dear friend, as dearly as I regard Gwen.” Arthur paused, not wanting to take the conversation in that direction yet. “They both would have fought for the opportunity to take the floor with you, in happier days.” He looked up with a smile and was disappointed to see Merlin’s sullen expression hadn’t changed. “Elena and Gwaine seem quite smitten…”
“Perhaps the Queen will be more willing to come to bed once she knows the room is prepared and my services are no longer required,” Merlin interrupted coldly. A ghastly, hollow sounding wind lashed the window with snow and hail. He unclenched his fists and feigned a smile a moment too late. Arthur had noticed the magnitude of his pique.
“Your services will always be required,” Arthur said firmly.
“As my advice will always be disregarded,” Merlin bit back on his words, again too late. Frozen precipitation pummelled the castle.
“As your friendship will always be cherished,” Arthur countered.
“Ha!” A single hailstone cracked against the windowpane.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Arthur asked with concern. He deliberately avoided glancing toward the window.
“Ask that question of yourself!”
Arthur startled Merlin by reaching for his arm, leading him by the elbow to the window, and pointing outside with his free hand. “This storm, Merlin, you’re causing it. Aren’t you aware…?”
Merlin roughly removed his arm from Arthur’s grip. “Aware of what I can do? I was born with this.” His eyes and stance were defiant. The snow outside was in tumult. He couldn’t read Arthur’s thoughts but Merlin had an idea of what his reaction might be.
“Are you in control of this?” Arthur’s eyes went to the window but the question went deeper than that.
“Usually.”
Arthur needed answers and a far less agitated Merlin. He kept his voice and gestures mild. “Is this how you know the old man? And why Hunith placed you in Gaius’ care?”
Merlin didn’t expect Arthur to react with gentle interest, as though he genuinely cared for Merlin’s plight more than years of deceit. The squall stuttered and whirled within itself as Merlin’s thoughts and emotions jumbled and tripped together. “Roughly, yes.”
“Is he your grandfather?”
“Gaius? No.”
“The old man.” Arthur was careful not to say ‘sorcerer’ but his phrasing still caused offence.
“You don’t remember his name do you?” Merlin accused.
Arthur found that rather unfair. He’d only heard it once. “I remember his voice, attitude, and eyes. His eyes were immediately familiar to me because they’re so much like yours.”
The affection in Arthur’s expression took Merlin’s breath and hid it. The storm paused until he found it again. The wind and hail were gone, but the snow continued its sporadic fall.
“You can’t help it, can you? Holding it in, pretending it isn’t there, suffering every day.” Arthur’s voice changed from sympathetic curiosity to softly spoken awe. He could have been talking about Merlin’s magic or… His hand found Merlin’s waist and they almost danced as Arthur moved to enforce eye contact. “You truly love me, don’t you?” he concluded in a hush. Why else would Merlin stay in a kingdom where his life was forfeit? Why would he convince that crotchety old man to protect Arthur’s heart, not once but twice, knowing they would both likely die for their efforts?
Merlin could not reply. Arthur’s eyes held them together as intimately as his arms did. The snow became a gentle, caressing fall-the kind that made bards wax lyrical. Arthur had his answer. He touched his lips to Merlin’s. Merlin pulled back in alarm.
“The Queen…”
“Is the same Gwen she was yesterday, or a year ago.”
“But…” Merlin was already melting against the warmth of Arthur’s heart. This gentle dance without music was somehow more binding than the bridal waltz witnessed earlier.
“Gwen knows I love you, Merlin. Even if you don’t,” Arthur admitted quietly. “She wouldn’t interrupt in any case. There are reasons why royal couples maintain separate rooms.”
“So they can commit adultery with servants?” Merlin asked mockingly.
Arthur laughed shortly. “Because Kings fart in bed and Queens snore-sometimes vice versa. Either way, it’s easier to be married when you have time apart.”
Without discussing it, they had fallen into the rhythm of the traditional Yule dance where partners take turns to lead. Their movements weren’t as boisterous as they would be in a hall or field. Arthur chose not to further question Merlin’s kinship to the sorcerer. Once his anger, pain, and fear subsided, Arthur clearly recalled the sorrow in those ancient blue eyes as they realised Uther had died. Striking blue eyes and magical talent were clearly not all Merlin inherited from …what’s his name. It was Merlin’s heart Arthur came to soothe this night, and hopefully cherish for a long time to come, so that’s what he focussed on. They talked about nothing important or nothing at all as their motion became less dance, more embrace.
“Nothing untoward can happen between us, even if you sleep here tonight.” Arthur said it against Merlin’s ear and hoped the miraculous snow wouldn’t turn to hail.
“Is that a tone of regret?” Merlin asked softly. Truth be told, the invitation to stay in this room was enticing enough.
“Might be,” Arthur admitted.
“After telling me you were prepared to face many horrors in this world apart from sharing this bed with me?”
“You’re right. What was I thinking? Goodnight.” Arthur let go, stepped away, and sat on the edge of his bed. Then he smiled and leaned forward to hold Merlin’s hips.
Merlin touched the back of Arthur’s neck with both hands and looked solemnly into his eyes. “This is your wedding night, your Majesty. You have a duty to perform.”
“That particular duty will have to wait. Her Majesty has...feminine…issues.” Their matching grimaces of disgust made them laugh.
Arthur’s comfortable smile calmed Merlin’s troubled heart. He wasn’t feared or hated for being born with magic. He bowed his head so their foreheads touched. Their first kiss carried years of accumulated admiration.
Merlin placed his knees either side of Arthur to sit on his lap.
“Mm,” Arthur said appreciatively as he fitted his hands to the curve of Merlin’s bottom. They kissed deeply then, with open mouths and hastening heartbeats.
“Are you sure this isn’t becoming ‘untoward’?” Merlin asked.
Arthur thought about that for the time it took to blink. “No. There’s nothing untoward about two friends who love each other kissing in private.”
So they kissed again in the same manner. “Is this still acceptable?” Merlin asked while leaning forward until Arthur’s back met the bed.
“This may be pushing it.”
Merlin knew Arthur was serious and lay beside him instead of on top. Lust was improper. Love was not. If passionate kissing was as far as Arthur felt they should go, then Merlin would rather have that than Arthur’s disapproval. They kept their underclothes and shirts on to get under the covers. Merlin had to wait for Arthur to perform his usual ‘which pillow feels most comfortable?’ routine before settling down beside him.
“Lucky Gwen has her own room so she doesn’t have to put up with that every night.”
Arthur calmly placed a rejected pillow over Merlin’s gloating face. The idiot was still smiling when he took it away. Arthur had no choice but to smile back. Then it was time to talk seriously again. “Do you understand why I forgave Gwen?” he asked.
Merlin put an arm across Arthur’s chest and cupped the far shoulder in the palm of his hand. Arthur’s hand reached up to caress Merlin’s forearm as they looked into each other’s eyes.
“For the same reason you forgive me,” Merlin stated softly. Arthur nodded. “I didn’t want to keep it from you for so long, my magic.” He’d never actually hidden his love for Arthur before, more sort of muffled it. There was much to say.
“Go on,” Arthur encouraged him gently.
“The old sorcerer is actually just me, eighty years old.”
“You can travel through time?” Arthur almost sat up. That was a far more frightening prospect than uncontrolled emotional snow.
Merlin was quick to put him at ease. “No.” He explained about Emrys and Morgana. Arthur paid close attention, asking pertinent questions and watching emotions change Merlin’s face. The weather outside returned to normal.
“Father’s decree has not worked at all. How could Camelot regard sorcery as beneficial when the law forces benign practitioners into hiding and brings those favouring dark arts to our doorstep?”
Merlin linked their fingers together and Arthur gave a quick squeeze of gratitude. “Your passion for justice and love for your people will make Camelot greater than your father ever imagined,” Merlin assured him.
“As long as I have people I can trust to advise me,” Arthur stipulated.
Neither words nor physical contact could communicate what existed between them as effectively as an extended moment of facing each other from separate pillows in the same bed.
That is how they slept.
*~~~*
Gwen was concerned when Arthur didn’t meet her for breakfast as arranged. Perhaps they truly had lost Merlin’s friendship. That would be a tragedy, for them all. Arthur may be the flame that brought light and warmth to the kingdom, but Merlin was the spark that lit the flame. She knocked on her husband’s door.
“Enter.” Arthur’s solemn reply proved something weighed on his mind.
“Is everything alright?” Gwen asked as she found him standing by the window.
“Not sure, I hoped so, but the snow’s gone.”
Gwen’s suggested Arthur may have lost a marble or two and now would be a good time to look for them.
“Merlin made it snow, yet he mustn’t have because there’s none on the cobbles, which means I drank too much and imagined the entire affair.”
“Affair?” Gwen teased.
“Don’t be saucy,” Arthur retorted.
Gwen stood beside him with an arm around his waist and looked out the window. There was no sign of snow, or indeed rain. “What’s this?” she asked, noticing a scratched area in the corner of a windowpane.
Arthur was closer. As his fingertip touched the marks they joined to etch a small word into the glass in elegant script.
Truly
Gwen pretended to look at a bird flying by as Arthur’s thumb caressed the pattern left by Merlin’s magic. The friends she loved most knew each other’s secrets at last.
Title: Truly
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rated: PG-13 Words: 2552
Warning: brief appearances of Gwen (for those who dislike her), yet another variation of the reveal
Summary: Merlin cannot understand how Arthur could have forgiven Gwen, until his magic manifests itself and Arthur forgives him too
Prompts supplied by mahmfic Magical induced white Christmas, and Christmas waltz
Following Merlin’s thoughts was like chasing snowflakes through an ever-changing wind.
Normally, Yule was his favourite time of year. Even as a child when all he received was a smile, hug and affectionate words from his mother. He sent Hunith a personal gift this year rather than something practical and assured her in writing that a letter from her would be all he needed to fill his heart. That was when the wedding between Arthur and Gwen was a non-event. This afternoon they pledged their vows in front of the court and invited guests. The combined Yule and wedding feast began in the evening.
Lancelot may have been a shade controlled by another, but Gwen wasn’t. What was her excuse for what occurred between them? ‘I suddenly couldn’t control myself’ didn’t cut it for Merlin. How could Arthur marry her, knowing of her indecisive heart? How could Merlin know Arthur so well yet not know his own heart until the bridal dance?
Merlin left the Great Hall and went upstairs to ensure the King’s room was ready to receive its fickle Queen. Snow began to fall in opposition to his ascent.
There were no clouds.
*~~~*
Gwen and Arthur watched their friend’s sadness increase as the celebration wore on. Other servants had joined the dancing at their King’s invitation. This was a time for all to rejoice, not merely the nobility, and the servants had worked hard to make the occasion spectacular.
Gwaine tried urging Merlin to dance with the head cook, much to everyone’s amusement. “You’re as thin as she is fat,” he leered drunkenly. Merlin pushed him away with a grimace. Gwen was on Merlin’s side, but she wished he would dance. He even declined her earlier invitation.
“He must be terribly lonely,” Gwen said with sincere sympathy as she danced again with her husband.
Arthur’s eyes followed Merlin’s slumped figure out of the hall. “I’ll see to him before the night is over,” he assured Gwen.
“Be gentle. He doesn’t understand as we do.”
“You’re convinced he’ll never forgive you?”
“I’m more concerned that he can’t forgive your forgiveness of me.”
“No more wine for you, you’re starting to sound like Gwaine.” Arthur took his wife’s hand and pressed it to his lips with a teasing smile, which Gwen returned. The crowd cheered to see their King and Queen display such affection in public. They did not hear his lowered voice continue as they whirled in time with the music. “If we included Merlin in certain discussions, as I desired…”
“Do I say ‘I told you so’ when I’m right?” Gwen murmured against his cheek. They exchanged friendly smiles as they twirled apart and then back together as the dance demanded. The nature of their love for each other may have changed, but it still ran deep. “Don’t leave it too long, Arthur. You need him.”
*~~~*
Merlin glowered as he plumped pillows, placed filled vases by the bedside, and tossed fallen petals into the fire. He muttered about trust, betrayal, loyalty, love, and misguided compassion. Arthur had always been easily misled by a pretty face. Sophia, Nimueh, Morgana, Morgause, Gwen-Catrina and Vivien had been the only exceptions. What rankled most was the need to loiter here in case the happy couple required anything when they eventually came upstairs. He could be downstairs enjoying the party like the other plebeians, dancing and socialising for a fantasy hour or two before resuming their usual duties. Then again, he’d only narrowly escaped Gwaine’s horrendous attempts at matchmaking.
He snorted back a chortle and from the corner of his eye noticed a hiccup in the flurry of snow. That was odd. He stepped closer to the window.
“Everything seems in order here. You may join the frivolities if you wish.”
Arthur’s voice startled him and a cold sheet of snow slapped against the window as Merlin replied with a clenched jaw.
“I’ll just leave you two alone then.” He turned to find Arthur alone. “Where’s Queen Guinevere?” Merlin asked in surprise.
There was another hiccup in the snow.
“Gwen’s downstairs dancing with anyone who can still stand. She and Elena were wooing the crowd with their rendition of a popular reel.” Arthur’s amusement was muted by Merlin’s melancholy evening. “We noticed you didn’t dance. I noticed,” he amended. His finger ran along the top of the table as he walked through the room. His eyes watched it keenly as he carefully weighed his words. “I haven’t said this before and never will again, but I am sorry for telling you Morgana was beyond your reach.”
Merlin was genuinely confused. Arthur looked over Merlin’s shoulder and saw snow spiralling outside the window.
“Beg pardon?” Merlin asked to distract Arthur from whatever drew puzzlement across his features.
“The two of you were becoming quite close before Morgause corrupted her with sorcery and schemes. Morgana counted you as a dear friend, as dearly as I regard Gwen.” Arthur paused, not wanting to take the conversation in that direction yet. “They both would have fought for the opportunity to take the floor with you, in happier days.” He looked up with a smile and was disappointed to see Merlin’s sullen expression hadn’t changed. “Elena and Gwaine seem quite smitten…”
“Perhaps the Queen will be more willing to come to bed once she knows the room is prepared and my services are no longer required,” Merlin interrupted coldly. A ghastly, hollow sounding wind lashed the window with snow and hail. He unclenched his fists and feigned a smile a moment too late. Arthur had noticed the magnitude of his pique.
“Your services will always be required,” Arthur said firmly.
“As my advice will always be disregarded,” Merlin bit back on his words, again too late. Frozen precipitation pummelled the castle.
“As your friendship will always be cherished,” Arthur countered.
“Ha!” A single hailstone cracked against the windowpane.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Arthur asked with concern. He deliberately avoided glancing toward the window.
“Ask that question of yourself!”
Arthur startled Merlin by reaching for his arm, leading him by the elbow to the window, and pointing outside with his free hand. “This storm, Merlin, you’re causing it. Aren’t you aware…?”
Merlin roughly removed his arm from Arthur’s grip. “Aware of what I can do? I was born with this.” His eyes and stance were defiant. The snow outside was in tumult. He couldn’t read Arthur’s thoughts but Merlin had an idea of what his reaction might be.
“Are you in control of this?” Arthur’s eyes went to the window but the question went deeper than that.
“Usually.”
Arthur needed answers and a far less agitated Merlin. He kept his voice and gestures mild. “Is this how you know the old man? And why Hunith placed you in Gaius’ care?”
Merlin didn’t expect Arthur to react with gentle interest, as though he genuinely cared for Merlin’s plight more than years of deceit. The squall stuttered and whirled within itself as Merlin’s thoughts and emotions jumbled and tripped together. “Roughly, yes.”
“Is he your grandfather?”
“Gaius? No.”
“The old man.” Arthur was careful not to say ‘sorcerer’ but his phrasing still caused offence.
“You don’t remember his name do you?” Merlin accused.
Arthur found that rather unfair. He’d only heard it once. “I remember his voice, attitude, and eyes. His eyes were immediately familiar to me because they’re so much like yours.”
The affection in Arthur’s expression took Merlin’s breath and hid it. The storm paused until he found it again. The wind and hail were gone, but the snow continued its sporadic fall.
“You can’t help it, can you? Holding it in, pretending it isn’t there, suffering every day.” Arthur’s voice changed from sympathetic curiosity to softly spoken awe. He could have been talking about Merlin’s magic or… His hand found Merlin’s waist and they almost danced as Arthur moved to enforce eye contact. “You truly love me, don’t you?” he concluded in a hush. Why else would Merlin stay in a kingdom where his life was forfeit? Why would he convince that crotchety old man to protect Arthur’s heart, not once but twice, knowing they would both likely die for their efforts?
Merlin could not reply. Arthur’s eyes held them together as intimately as his arms did. The snow became a gentle, caressing fall-the kind that made bards wax lyrical. Arthur had his answer. He touched his lips to Merlin’s. Merlin pulled back in alarm.
“The Queen…”
“Is the same Gwen she was yesterday, or a year ago.”
“But…” Merlin was already melting against the warmth of Arthur’s heart. This gentle dance without music was somehow more binding than the bridal waltz witnessed earlier.
“Gwen knows I love you, Merlin. Even if you don’t,” Arthur admitted quietly. “She wouldn’t interrupt in any case. There are reasons why royal couples maintain separate rooms.”
“So they can commit adultery with servants?” Merlin asked mockingly.
Arthur laughed shortly. “Because Kings fart in bed and Queens snore-sometimes vice versa. Either way, it’s easier to be married when you have time apart.”
Without discussing it, they had fallen into the rhythm of the traditional Yule dance where partners take turns to lead. Their movements weren’t as boisterous as they would be in a hall or field. Arthur chose not to further question Merlin’s kinship to the sorcerer. Once his anger, pain, and fear subsided, Arthur clearly recalled the sorrow in those ancient blue eyes as they realised Uther had died. Striking blue eyes and magical talent were clearly not all Merlin inherited from …what’s his name. It was Merlin’s heart Arthur came to soothe this night, and hopefully cherish for a long time to come, so that’s what he focussed on. They talked about nothing important or nothing at all as their motion became less dance, more embrace.
“Nothing untoward can happen between us, even if you sleep here tonight.” Arthur said it against Merlin’s ear and hoped the miraculous snow wouldn’t turn to hail.
“Is that a tone of regret?” Merlin asked softly. Truth be told, the invitation to stay in this room was enticing enough.
“Might be,” Arthur admitted.
“After telling me you were prepared to face many horrors in this world apart from sharing this bed with me?”
“You’re right. What was I thinking? Goodnight.” Arthur let go, stepped away, and sat on the edge of his bed. Then he smiled and leaned forward to hold Merlin’s hips.
Merlin touched the back of Arthur’s neck with both hands and looked solemnly into his eyes. “This is your wedding night, your Majesty. You have a duty to perform.”
“That particular duty will have to wait. Her Majesty has...feminine…issues.” Their matching grimaces of disgust made them laugh.
Arthur’s comfortable smile calmed Merlin’s troubled heart. He wasn’t feared or hated for being born with magic. He bowed his head so their foreheads touched. Their first kiss carried years of accumulated admiration.
Merlin placed his knees either side of Arthur to sit on his lap.
“Mm,” Arthur said appreciatively as he fitted his hands to the curve of Merlin’s bottom. They kissed deeply then, with open mouths and hastening heartbeats.
“Are you sure this isn’t becoming ‘untoward’?” Merlin asked.
Arthur thought about that for the time it took to blink. “No. There’s nothing untoward about two friends who love each other kissing in private.”
So they kissed again in the same manner. “Is this still acceptable?” Merlin asked while leaning forward until Arthur’s back met the bed.
“This may be pushing it.”
Merlin knew Arthur was serious and lay beside him instead of on top. Lust was improper. Love was not. If passionate kissing was as far as Arthur felt they should go, then Merlin would rather have that than Arthur’s disapproval. They kept their underclothes and shirts on to get under the covers. Merlin had to wait for Arthur to perform his usual ‘which pillow feels most comfortable?’ routine before settling down beside him.
“Lucky Gwen has her own room so she doesn’t have to put up with that every night.”
Arthur calmly placed a rejected pillow over Merlin’s gloating face. The idiot was still smiling when he took it away. Arthur had no choice but to smile back. Then it was time to talk seriously again. “Do you understand why I forgave Gwen?” he asked.
Merlin put an arm across Arthur’s chest and cupped the far shoulder in the palm of his hand. Arthur’s hand reached up to caress Merlin’s forearm as they looked into each other’s eyes.
“For the same reason you forgive me,” Merlin stated softly. Arthur nodded. “I didn’t want to keep it from you for so long, my magic.” He’d never actually hidden his love for Arthur before, more sort of muffled it. There was much to say.
“Go on,” Arthur encouraged him gently.
“The old sorcerer is actually just me, eighty years old.”
“You can travel through time?” Arthur almost sat up. That was a far more frightening prospect than uncontrolled emotional snow.
Merlin was quick to put him at ease. “No.” He explained about Emrys and Morgana. Arthur paid close attention, asking pertinent questions and watching emotions change Merlin’s face. The weather outside returned to normal.
“Father’s decree has not worked at all. How could Camelot regard sorcery as beneficial when the law forces benign practitioners into hiding and brings those favouring dark arts to our doorstep?”
Merlin linked their fingers together and Arthur gave a quick squeeze of gratitude. “Your passion for justice and love for your people will make Camelot greater than your father ever imagined,” Merlin assured him.
“As long as I have people I can trust to advise me,” Arthur stipulated.
Neither words nor physical contact could communicate what existed between them as effectively as an extended moment of facing each other from separate pillows in the same bed.
That is how they slept.
*~~~*
Gwen was concerned when Arthur didn’t meet her for breakfast as arranged. Perhaps they truly had lost Merlin’s friendship. That would be a tragedy, for them all. Arthur may be the flame that brought light and warmth to the kingdom, but Merlin was the spark that lit the flame. She knocked on her husband’s door.
“Enter.” Arthur’s solemn reply proved something weighed on his mind.
“Is everything alright?” Gwen asked as she found him standing by the window.
“Not sure, I hoped so, but the snow’s gone.”
Gwen’s suggested Arthur may have lost a marble or two and now would be a good time to look for them.
“Merlin made it snow, yet he mustn’t have because there’s none on the cobbles, which means I drank too much and imagined the entire affair.”
“Affair?” Gwen teased.
“Don’t be saucy,” Arthur retorted.
Gwen stood beside him with an arm around his waist and looked out the window. There was no sign of snow, or indeed rain. “What’s this?” she asked, noticing a scratched area in the corner of a windowpane.
Arthur was closer. As his fingertip touched the marks they joined to etch a small word into the glass in elegant script.
Truly
Gwen pretended to look at a bird flying by as Arthur’s thumb caressed the pattern left by Merlin’s magic. The friends she loved most knew each other’s secrets at last.