FOR AUTUMN Fic: Love like a Sunset (Merlin/Arthur, PG)
Title: Love like a Sunset
Author: mrsvc
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash. Fairy Tale.
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Summary: Merlin didn't pine. Pining was beneath him. He may not be a Prince but he still had his dignity.
Word Count: 2,865
Disclaimer: Does not own. Will never own.
AN: Thanks to oso_intricate for looking this over for me! All mistakes are mine.
Today is my dearest friend and love of my life akitron 's birthday and she requested "Merlin/Arthur, Sleeping Beauty shenanigans, either one of them being cursed." Well, my dear, this is a little more Snow White than Sleeping Beauty but I think you'll like it.
Since I didn't get to surprise you with fic, Autumn, I threw together a little mixtape to go along with the fic. I know you love fanmixes as much as I love you, so SURPRISE! HAPPY 20TH BIRTHDAY, LOVE!
Love like a Sunset fanmix
Love like a Sunset
"You're not going."
Merlin looked up from where he was packing Arthur's saddlebag and stared at Arthur. "Wait, what?"
"You're not going. You," Arthur said, poking Merlin in the chest, "are going to go help clean out the west wing for the southern lords coming in next week. And, you are going to enslave yourself to whichever lord is the fattest and laziest and you are going to like it."
"I thought I already did that," Merlin murmured back. "Except for the liking it part." Arthur shoved at Merlin's shoulder, which made Merlin frown more. "Can't you find something-" he flapped his hands around uselessly, "for me to do? I could wave the stick around in the brush a bit?"
"This is not a pleasure hunt, Merlin." Arthur grabbed his sword and buckled it around his waist. "We're going to my mother's home to aid them against the drought."
"Your mother's-" Merlin started. Arthur had turned his back to him, leaving Merlin floundering to know what Arthur thought of this.
"Tintagal. It belonged to my mother's family. My father inherited it upon my mother's death."
"Arthur, you shouldn't-"
"Don't think you can slack off here while I'm gone, Merlin," Arthur butted in quickly. "I'll still expect my rooms to be up to par."
Merlin nodded and hefted Arthur's bag up to carry down to his mount. "Of course, Sire. When should I expect you back?"
"Shouldn't take more than a week, ten days at most." Merlin could hear the trace of humor in Arthur's voice and he saw the barest hint of a smile when Arthur glanced over his shoulder. "Try not to pine for me over much."
-----
Merlin didn't pine. Pining was beneath him. He may not be a Prince but he still had his dignity.
Instead, Merlin sorted Gaius' potions shelf for him, did his own wash, helped Gwen mend a wall in her house, learned four new spells, started in on a magical lore book Gauis had dug up from the bottom of some pile, almost broke his own nose and one of Uther's pageboys at the same time, and managed to not get himself enslaved to the fattest, laziest southern lord (just the most arrogant but he supposed better him than Gwen.) All in all, it was the most productive and boring week in Merlin's life.
And Merlin most assuredly did not count down the days until Arthur's return. Because that would just be pathetic.
-----
"Arthur's been gone for more than two weeks," Merlin said to Gauis on the dawn of the fifteenth day.
"Perhaps Tintagal needed more help than they had planned for."
Merlin didn't say a word about how he hates that Arthur left him behind and finally got around to learning the spell for darning socks.
-----
On the eighteenth day, Merlin started to get antsy. Arthur is a man of his word and Merlin couldn't understand how no one else was worried about this.
"If something was the matter, we would have gotten word of it, Merlin," Gauis tried to reassure him.
"Yeah, after it's too late." Gaius sighed and thumped Merlin's shoulder before taking away their empty supper plates.
-----
"Are you that worried, Merlin?" Gwen said, twisting her fingers in the hem of her apron.
"Yes. I know Arthur, you know Arthur. He wouldn't be gone this long without sending someone back to reassure his father. Have you seen Leon? Or Owain?"
"Well, no," Gwen conceded. "But Arthur is also his own man, Merlin. Maybe he just needs some time in the place where his mother lived."
Merlin nodded, sucking on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "I should be with him."
Gwen grabbed his hand suddenly and nodded. "You should." Merlin pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles (just like he thinks she deserves, to have men kneel before her and kiss her hand for all the rest of her days) and ran off to the archives to find a map to Tinatgal.
-----
When the sun set on the twentieth day, Merlin was camped on the edge of the forest surrounding the castle Tintagal. The one thing that struck him as odd was the way that all of the houses in the villages were empty and in an advanced state of disrepair. Merlin was suspicious that there had never been any drought-ridden people for Arthur to help from the start.
Merlin couldn't sleep so he spent most of that night watching the flick of his fire in the night and wonder what he was going to see once he entered the castle. The specter of Arthur's pale, bloated body laying on the cold stones floated around his head, leaving his stomach clenched and the taste of bile in his throat.
There are a lot of things that Merlin doesn't think about: what Gaius puts in the stew they eat for supper, consequences, why the Dragon is so cavalier with people's lives, what girls say when they press their heads together and giggle behind their hands, and the things he feels for Arthur.
The Dragon threw words around like destiny and making each other whole, his mother said they belong, but when he's sitting alone in the cold with the bleak possibility he's been living in a world without Arthur for days already, he doesn't think those words are enough. Belonging doesn't explain why Merlin thinks of Camelot as his home when it's the most dangerous place in all of Albion for him. Destiny doesn't sound big enough to hold everything that coursed through his blood when his heart skipped a beat because of Arthur.
Not that Merlin ever thought about it.
-----
As soon as the sun was high enough in the sky for Merlin to make his way down the slope of the hill towards Tintagal safely, he threw dirt on fire and left his makeshift camp. He tied his horse up to a tree and took a deep breath. "He's not dead," Merlin murmured, more to himself than the horse. "I'd know if he was dead." The mare huffed and nosed against his hand reassuringly and Merlin stroked her fondly. "I'm glad you believe me."
Merlin was a little surprised to find nothing blocking his way once he passed the main gates of the citadel. Tintagal was no where near as fortified as Camelot but he had at least expected gates long rusted locked and crumbled walls making him take the long way around the city. Instead, he followed the courtyard right into the main entrance to the castle.
The small throne room was on the opposite side of the hall than in Camelot but Merlin found it with ease. He followed the hall and ascended a set of stairs that he hoped would take him to the guest quarters. He turned each corner cautiously, peering around it first, waiting for the inevitable attack. He circled each floor of the castle, muscles taut and on alert but never finding the threat or Arthur. He turned the last corner of the highest floor and is met with more nothing. He backed against the cold stone wall and started to count through his options (Dungeons, servant's quarters, kidnapped to another location, in that order) when the door at the end of the hall creaked open.
"Hello?" Merlin called. "Arthur?" He crept forward slowly, making sure to watch behind him to see if this was all a distraction, until he was close enough to push the door the rest of the way open.
Behind it was a spiral staircase, leading up to one of Tintagal's tall towers. He knew that if he followed those stairs up, it would lead to a single room at the tallest part of the castle. If the kidnappers were up there with Arthur, he would have no escape but back down these stairs or out the window. If the attackers were there, there would be no way to hide his magic in that small room and he would have no choice but to kill all of Arthur's captors as quickly as possible and damn the consequences. Worst of all, he would find the bodies and have no where to run away from the horror of it all.
Merlin took a breath to steel himself, swallowing back the brunt of his fear with an audible click in his throat, and took the first step up the tower's staircase.
-----
At the top of the staircase was another door. Merlin stood outside of it, breath so ragged and labored with exertion and anxiety he was sure whoever was on the other side could already hear him.
"Enter, Emyrs." A sorceress, then. Merlin hissed a curse to himself and stormed through the door. Inside, he was met with the knights of Camelot standing vigil around the bed where their Prince laid. Merlin's eyes roamed around the semi-circular room, taking in all he could before he attacked the magician. The knights were standing against the wall, swords held before them at attention. Upon closer inspection, Merlin saw they were each asleep, almost as if they were made of stone; a silent guard over their Prince. Merlin almost reached out to touch Leon when the voice spoke again. "I wouldn't, Emrys. I've got them set to kill. That is, until they waste away from hunger."
"Who are you? Show yourself!" Merlin was not looking at the bed. He wasn't going to let himself look at Arthur and see him dead. He needed to focus on his rage right then, the anger he feels whenever someone uses magic against Arthur.
"Testy, aren't we?" He felt the shift, the metallic zing like lightning on his tongue he tastes whenever magic saturates the air around him. The sorceress melted out of the atmosphere and materialized in all her splendor before Merlin, who would have been far more impressed on any other day. "To answer your question, who I am is unimportant. And yes, your Prince is still alive. If I wanted him dead, he would be." Merlin felt his fist clench at the certainty of her words. She was beautiful and terrifying and nothing like the other witches and Druids he'd ever met. She carried herself like royalty and she filled the room with her very essence. "Go on, Immortal. See for yourself." She motioned Merlin towards the bed and he inched closer, keeping his eyes locked on her. It was only after she sat on the edge of the bed that he followed suit and settled on Arthur's other side.
Merlin's heart stuttered when he first glanced over Arthur's prone form. She had him laid out in his armor, sword laying down his body like he was prepared for a royal burial. Merlin couldn't help but touch him, make sure that he could feel the slow, steady drumming of Arthur's pulse against his fingers. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when he felt warm, living skin under his hands and he let his thumb trail across Arthur's jaw.
"Beautiful, isn't he?" the sorceress murmured, her own slender fingers skimming across Arthur's wrist. "All the good things of his mother and all the faults of his father."
"Why?" Merlin whispered.
"She grew up here," she said, not looking at Merlin. "She laughed here and loved here and I took care of her. Magic flourished in this land and she was alive. Then she married Uther," she spat out his name like soured milk, "and he traded her for heir."
"But why Arthur?" Merlin pleaded.
"I want Arthur to wake up to a land that doesn't remember his father's name. I want him to wake up and see all the evil his father perpetrated in the name of peace and where it left him. I want everyone he loves to have died and I want Arthur to die in the knowledge that he never should have lived."
Both sorcerers stood from the bed and backed across the room from each other quickly. "You know I'm going to have to kill you," Merlin stated.
"It won't break my spell, Emrys. No amount of magic is enough to break my enchantment," she countered calmly. "The Pendragon dynasty will pay for what they did to Igraine."
"Arthur does not deserve to die for Uther's mistakes." Merlin held out his hand and poured his power into his words and prayed for the best. She threw up the counter-spell and the clash of magic made Merlin's nose tingle.
"It's sweet, Emyrs," she purred, "that you think so highly of the son when you know he is but the product of his father's greed." Merlin deflected another curse thrown his way.
"You said it yourself, he has good in him," Merlin shouted back. "I believe in those things." Merlin's eyes burned gold. "I believe in the good things his mother gave him." He called on the magic he'd used before to kill Nimueh and the Sidhe and watched as the sorceress bent over in pain.
"I may be gone, Emrys," she panted, and Merlin saw that the magic was ripping her apart from the inside out, "but so is your Prince. He'll sleep for one hundred years and die alone and you will be no help to him in those times." She screamed as her skin cracked and Merlin knew the magic was breaking through her. "I. Still. Win."
Merlin had to shield his eyes when she shattered, the flash of pure magic too bright to bear, and the smell of burning flesh strong on the air.
"Arthur," was the first word Merlin said when he could catch his breath again. He quickly went back to Arthur's side but his useless hopes were dashed when Arthur was unchanged. He laid his fingers gently on Arthur's pulse, forcing his own to slow down. The knights were still standing against the wall at attention but Merlin could see it now, how pale and gaunt they looked compared to Arthur. She was preserving Arthur for one hundred years, to awaken to nothing and no one. The depth of her hatred for Uther must have been vast or her love Igraine even more so.
Merlin looked at Arthur's still face and thought about his book of magical lore. A spell born of love can only be broken by love, it said. Merlin thought about all the scary things he usually hid away, the way he covets Arthur's smiles more than he ever could gold or jewels, and how he doesn't mind being the butt of Arthur's jokes so long as Arthur throws his arm around his shoulder afterward and tells him not to be a baby about it, and how different was it? What he just did for Arthur from what the sorceress had done for Igraine?
He looked down at Arthur and thought about all the times he'd given so much for Arthur and for nothing in return. He thought about how he'd keep doing it forever and never ask for anything in return. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over Arthur's cheek and made his decision. He palmed Arthur's face and knew that if this didn't work, he'd sit here for one hundred years and wait for Arthur.
He just laid his lips gently over Arthur's, not pressing, but catching the dry skin between his own and breathing in Arthur, afraid to move away, afraid it's not enough. He stayed there until he felt Arthur suck in a breath and the flicker of skin moving. Merlin pressed his forehead to Arthur's for just a second, being selfish for the first time since he'd met Arthur, before he pulled away and smiled. Arthur blinked his eyes open and Merlin could hear the knights all moan and fall limply against the castle walls, the scrap of their armor loud as they slid down to sit on the cool stone.
"Merlin?" Arthur whispered, voice hoarse and barely audible but there. He raised his arm and reached blindly for Merlin, finally latching onto Merlin's forearm. Merlin let his hand fall down to rest against Arthur's neck.
"You are never allowed to leave me behind again."
Arthur's answer was a weak, wheezing laughter and Merlin reached up with his free hand to wipe tears he hadn't known had fallen from his cheeks.
If Arthur knew what Merlin had done, how he'd broken the spell, he didn't do anything about it. That was okay, though. Merlin was willing to wait for Arthur to be ready. He would always wait for Arthur.
END.
Author: mrsvc
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash. Fairy Tale.
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Summary: Merlin didn't pine. Pining was beneath him. He may not be a Prince but he still had his dignity.
Word Count: 2,865
Disclaimer: Does not own. Will never own.
AN: Thanks to oso_intricate for looking this over for me! All mistakes are mine.
Today is my dearest friend and love of my life akitron 's birthday and she requested "Merlin/Arthur, Sleeping Beauty shenanigans, either one of them being cursed." Well, my dear, this is a little more Snow White than Sleeping Beauty but I think you'll like it.
Since I didn't get to surprise you with fic, Autumn, I threw together a little mixtape to go along with the fic. I know you love fanmixes as much as I love you, so SURPRISE! HAPPY 20TH BIRTHDAY, LOVE!
Love like a Sunset fanmix
Love like a Sunset
"You're not going."
Merlin looked up from where he was packing Arthur's saddlebag and stared at Arthur. "Wait, what?"
"You're not going. You," Arthur said, poking Merlin in the chest, "are going to go help clean out the west wing for the southern lords coming in next week. And, you are going to enslave yourself to whichever lord is the fattest and laziest and you are going to like it."
"I thought I already did that," Merlin murmured back. "Except for the liking it part." Arthur shoved at Merlin's shoulder, which made Merlin frown more. "Can't you find something-" he flapped his hands around uselessly, "for me to do? I could wave the stick around in the brush a bit?"
"This is not a pleasure hunt, Merlin." Arthur grabbed his sword and buckled it around his waist. "We're going to my mother's home to aid them against the drought."
"Your mother's-" Merlin started. Arthur had turned his back to him, leaving Merlin floundering to know what Arthur thought of this.
"Tintagal. It belonged to my mother's family. My father inherited it upon my mother's death."
"Arthur, you shouldn't-"
"Don't think you can slack off here while I'm gone, Merlin," Arthur butted in quickly. "I'll still expect my rooms to be up to par."
Merlin nodded and hefted Arthur's bag up to carry down to his mount. "Of course, Sire. When should I expect you back?"
"Shouldn't take more than a week, ten days at most." Merlin could hear the trace of humor in Arthur's voice and he saw the barest hint of a smile when Arthur glanced over his shoulder. "Try not to pine for me over much."
-----
Merlin didn't pine. Pining was beneath him. He may not be a Prince but he still had his dignity.
Instead, Merlin sorted Gaius' potions shelf for him, did his own wash, helped Gwen mend a wall in her house, learned four new spells, started in on a magical lore book Gauis had dug up from the bottom of some pile, almost broke his own nose and one of Uther's pageboys at the same time, and managed to not get himself enslaved to the fattest, laziest southern lord (just the most arrogant but he supposed better him than Gwen.) All in all, it was the most productive and boring week in Merlin's life.
And Merlin most assuredly did not count down the days until Arthur's return. Because that would just be pathetic.
-----
"Arthur's been gone for more than two weeks," Merlin said to Gauis on the dawn of the fifteenth day.
"Perhaps Tintagal needed more help than they had planned for."
Merlin didn't say a word about how he hates that Arthur left him behind and finally got around to learning the spell for darning socks.
-----
On the eighteenth day, Merlin started to get antsy. Arthur is a man of his word and Merlin couldn't understand how no one else was worried about this.
"If something was the matter, we would have gotten word of it, Merlin," Gauis tried to reassure him.
"Yeah, after it's too late." Gaius sighed and thumped Merlin's shoulder before taking away their empty supper plates.
-----
"Are you that worried, Merlin?" Gwen said, twisting her fingers in the hem of her apron.
"Yes. I know Arthur, you know Arthur. He wouldn't be gone this long without sending someone back to reassure his father. Have you seen Leon? Or Owain?"
"Well, no," Gwen conceded. "But Arthur is also his own man, Merlin. Maybe he just needs some time in the place where his mother lived."
Merlin nodded, sucking on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "I should be with him."
Gwen grabbed his hand suddenly and nodded. "You should." Merlin pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles (just like he thinks she deserves, to have men kneel before her and kiss her hand for all the rest of her days) and ran off to the archives to find a map to Tinatgal.
-----
When the sun set on the twentieth day, Merlin was camped on the edge of the forest surrounding the castle Tintagal. The one thing that struck him as odd was the way that all of the houses in the villages were empty and in an advanced state of disrepair. Merlin was suspicious that there had never been any drought-ridden people for Arthur to help from the start.
Merlin couldn't sleep so he spent most of that night watching the flick of his fire in the night and wonder what he was going to see once he entered the castle. The specter of Arthur's pale, bloated body laying on the cold stones floated around his head, leaving his stomach clenched and the taste of bile in his throat.
There are a lot of things that Merlin doesn't think about: what Gaius puts in the stew they eat for supper, consequences, why the Dragon is so cavalier with people's lives, what girls say when they press their heads together and giggle behind their hands, and the things he feels for Arthur.
The Dragon threw words around like destiny and making each other whole, his mother said they belong, but when he's sitting alone in the cold with the bleak possibility he's been living in a world without Arthur for days already, he doesn't think those words are enough. Belonging doesn't explain why Merlin thinks of Camelot as his home when it's the most dangerous place in all of Albion for him. Destiny doesn't sound big enough to hold everything that coursed through his blood when his heart skipped a beat because of Arthur.
Not that Merlin ever thought about it.
-----
As soon as the sun was high enough in the sky for Merlin to make his way down the slope of the hill towards Tintagal safely, he threw dirt on fire and left his makeshift camp. He tied his horse up to a tree and took a deep breath. "He's not dead," Merlin murmured, more to himself than the horse. "I'd know if he was dead." The mare huffed and nosed against his hand reassuringly and Merlin stroked her fondly. "I'm glad you believe me."
Merlin was a little surprised to find nothing blocking his way once he passed the main gates of the citadel. Tintagal was no where near as fortified as Camelot but he had at least expected gates long rusted locked and crumbled walls making him take the long way around the city. Instead, he followed the courtyard right into the main entrance to the castle.
The small throne room was on the opposite side of the hall than in Camelot but Merlin found it with ease. He followed the hall and ascended a set of stairs that he hoped would take him to the guest quarters. He turned each corner cautiously, peering around it first, waiting for the inevitable attack. He circled each floor of the castle, muscles taut and on alert but never finding the threat or Arthur. He turned the last corner of the highest floor and is met with more nothing. He backed against the cold stone wall and started to count through his options (Dungeons, servant's quarters, kidnapped to another location, in that order) when the door at the end of the hall creaked open.
"Hello?" Merlin called. "Arthur?" He crept forward slowly, making sure to watch behind him to see if this was all a distraction, until he was close enough to push the door the rest of the way open.
Behind it was a spiral staircase, leading up to one of Tintagal's tall towers. He knew that if he followed those stairs up, it would lead to a single room at the tallest part of the castle. If the kidnappers were up there with Arthur, he would have no escape but back down these stairs or out the window. If the attackers were there, there would be no way to hide his magic in that small room and he would have no choice but to kill all of Arthur's captors as quickly as possible and damn the consequences. Worst of all, he would find the bodies and have no where to run away from the horror of it all.
Merlin took a breath to steel himself, swallowing back the brunt of his fear with an audible click in his throat, and took the first step up the tower's staircase.
-----
At the top of the staircase was another door. Merlin stood outside of it, breath so ragged and labored with exertion and anxiety he was sure whoever was on the other side could already hear him.
"Enter, Emyrs." A sorceress, then. Merlin hissed a curse to himself and stormed through the door. Inside, he was met with the knights of Camelot standing vigil around the bed where their Prince laid. Merlin's eyes roamed around the semi-circular room, taking in all he could before he attacked the magician. The knights were standing against the wall, swords held before them at attention. Upon closer inspection, Merlin saw they were each asleep, almost as if they were made of stone; a silent guard over their Prince. Merlin almost reached out to touch Leon when the voice spoke again. "I wouldn't, Emrys. I've got them set to kill. That is, until they waste away from hunger."
"Who are you? Show yourself!" Merlin was not looking at the bed. He wasn't going to let himself look at Arthur and see him dead. He needed to focus on his rage right then, the anger he feels whenever someone uses magic against Arthur.
"Testy, aren't we?" He felt the shift, the metallic zing like lightning on his tongue he tastes whenever magic saturates the air around him. The sorceress melted out of the atmosphere and materialized in all her splendor before Merlin, who would have been far more impressed on any other day. "To answer your question, who I am is unimportant. And yes, your Prince is still alive. If I wanted him dead, he would be." Merlin felt his fist clench at the certainty of her words. She was beautiful and terrifying and nothing like the other witches and Druids he'd ever met. She carried herself like royalty and she filled the room with her very essence. "Go on, Immortal. See for yourself." She motioned Merlin towards the bed and he inched closer, keeping his eyes locked on her. It was only after she sat on the edge of the bed that he followed suit and settled on Arthur's other side.
Merlin's heart stuttered when he first glanced over Arthur's prone form. She had him laid out in his armor, sword laying down his body like he was prepared for a royal burial. Merlin couldn't help but touch him, make sure that he could feel the slow, steady drumming of Arthur's pulse against his fingers. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when he felt warm, living skin under his hands and he let his thumb trail across Arthur's jaw.
"Beautiful, isn't he?" the sorceress murmured, her own slender fingers skimming across Arthur's wrist. "All the good things of his mother and all the faults of his father."
"Why?" Merlin whispered.
"She grew up here," she said, not looking at Merlin. "She laughed here and loved here and I took care of her. Magic flourished in this land and she was alive. Then she married Uther," she spat out his name like soured milk, "and he traded her for heir."
"But why Arthur?" Merlin pleaded.
"I want Arthur to wake up to a land that doesn't remember his father's name. I want him to wake up and see all the evil his father perpetrated in the name of peace and where it left him. I want everyone he loves to have died and I want Arthur to die in the knowledge that he never should have lived."
Both sorcerers stood from the bed and backed across the room from each other quickly. "You know I'm going to have to kill you," Merlin stated.
"It won't break my spell, Emrys. No amount of magic is enough to break my enchantment," she countered calmly. "The Pendragon dynasty will pay for what they did to Igraine."
"Arthur does not deserve to die for Uther's mistakes." Merlin held out his hand and poured his power into his words and prayed for the best. She threw up the counter-spell and the clash of magic made Merlin's nose tingle.
"It's sweet, Emyrs," she purred, "that you think so highly of the son when you know he is but the product of his father's greed." Merlin deflected another curse thrown his way.
"You said it yourself, he has good in him," Merlin shouted back. "I believe in those things." Merlin's eyes burned gold. "I believe in the good things his mother gave him." He called on the magic he'd used before to kill Nimueh and the Sidhe and watched as the sorceress bent over in pain.
"I may be gone, Emrys," she panted, and Merlin saw that the magic was ripping her apart from the inside out, "but so is your Prince. He'll sleep for one hundred years and die alone and you will be no help to him in those times." She screamed as her skin cracked and Merlin knew the magic was breaking through her. "I. Still. Win."
Merlin had to shield his eyes when she shattered, the flash of pure magic too bright to bear, and the smell of burning flesh strong on the air.
"Arthur," was the first word Merlin said when he could catch his breath again. He quickly went back to Arthur's side but his useless hopes were dashed when Arthur was unchanged. He laid his fingers gently on Arthur's pulse, forcing his own to slow down. The knights were still standing against the wall at attention but Merlin could see it now, how pale and gaunt they looked compared to Arthur. She was preserving Arthur for one hundred years, to awaken to nothing and no one. The depth of her hatred for Uther must have been vast or her love Igraine even more so.
Merlin looked at Arthur's still face and thought about his book of magical lore. A spell born of love can only be broken by love, it said. Merlin thought about all the scary things he usually hid away, the way he covets Arthur's smiles more than he ever could gold or jewels, and how he doesn't mind being the butt of Arthur's jokes so long as Arthur throws his arm around his shoulder afterward and tells him not to be a baby about it, and how different was it? What he just did for Arthur from what the sorceress had done for Igraine?
He looked down at Arthur and thought about all the times he'd given so much for Arthur and for nothing in return. He thought about how he'd keep doing it forever and never ask for anything in return. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over Arthur's cheek and made his decision. He palmed Arthur's face and knew that if this didn't work, he'd sit here for one hundred years and wait for Arthur.
He just laid his lips gently over Arthur's, not pressing, but catching the dry skin between his own and breathing in Arthur, afraid to move away, afraid it's not enough. He stayed there until he felt Arthur suck in a breath and the flicker of skin moving. Merlin pressed his forehead to Arthur's for just a second, being selfish for the first time since he'd met Arthur, before he pulled away and smiled. Arthur blinked his eyes open and Merlin could hear the knights all moan and fall limply against the castle walls, the scrap of their armor loud as they slid down to sit on the cool stone.
"Merlin?" Arthur whispered, voice hoarse and barely audible but there. He raised his arm and reached blindly for Merlin, finally latching onto Merlin's forearm. Merlin let his hand fall down to rest against Arthur's neck.
"You are never allowed to leave me behind again."
Arthur's answer was a weak, wheezing laughter and Merlin reached up with his free hand to wipe tears he hadn't known had fallen from his cheeks.
If Arthur knew what Merlin had done, how he'd broken the spell, he didn't do anything about it. That was okay, though. Merlin was willing to wait for Arthur to be ready. He would always wait for Arthur.
END.