Chapter Text
“Wait,” Arthur gasps, pulling away from the man. “I think it’s almost dawn. Look.”
The man turns his face up to the sky, and Arthur once again admires the curve of his neck, as well as the reddening marks he’d left there. It’s now considerably lighter than it had been just minutes ago. Or has it been hours? How long has he been here, pinned between this stranger’s body and the stone pillar at his back? Arthur doesn’t know.
“Oh wow,” the man whispers, “I love this shade of blue. I’m up before dawn most days, but,” he looks back down at Arthur, smiling a little, “I’ve never enjoyed it like this before.”
At some point in the minutes or hours before, Arthur had indeed been rendered senseless, coaxed open and then left breathless, reeling. His mind had been blissfully empty, with nothing to think about but the sensation of lips on his, noses brushing together, hands roaming his body. The man had certainly delivered on his promises.
They’d talked more, too, sometime before Arthur’s capacity for conscious thought had left him. He’d learned that the man’s favorite color was blue, that he had no siblings but several friends he thought of as brothers and sisters, that he believed in fate and destiny and true love. Arthur admitted that he did too, something he’d never told another soul before. But, drunk on a thousand kisses under the moonlight, things were definitely starting to feel like destiny to him.
Now, with daylight fast approaching, everything Arthur had forgotten and let go of in the enchanted night comes rushing back to his mind.
“I have to go inside,” he says, and the man’s face falls slightly.
Arthur catches it in his hands. “This night has been... wonderful. You’re wonderful. I’m sorry it has to end. I have...” he chooses his words carefully, still keeping his identity safe despite the roaring part of him that wants to fling both their masks away, “responsibilities, duties and such, when the sun comes up. But I’m grateful I met you,” he says, just to see that small smile return to the man’s face.
“As am I. And I’m sorry, too, that it has to end.” The man turns to leave.
“Wait.” Arthur surprises himself, leaps forward and takes the man’s hand. “Find me,” he says, and the man’s eyes widen behind his mask. “When this is all over, find me. I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Okay.” The man’s smile turns into that dazzling grin of his. “I will.”
They walk back into the ballroom together, then the man splits off to join the other servants, leaving one last kiss on Arthur’s cheek before disappearing into the crowd. Arthur makes for the dais at the other end of the room. He steps up to survey the crowd just as the first rays of morning sunlight shine through the east windows.
Arthur doesn’t feel anything different. There’s no lightning strike, no sudden bolt of clarity. He looks around the room and sees people he knows, some people he knows very well. The idea that they’d ever been anonymous to him is quickly fading from his mind, becoming absurd. Murmurs break out amongst the crowd, laughter and exclamations of shock and delight. Golden masks glint in the morning light as their owners begin to pull them off.
There’s Morgana and Gwen in a corner, laughing, he thinks, about having found each other even with the enchanted masks on. There’s Sir Gwaine and Sir Percival, removing their masks to look at each other properly, stunned. Then Gwaine barks out a laugh and Percival catches him in his arms.
Fucking finally, Arthur thinks, grinning.
There’s... oh, Arthur winces. The Princess of Mercia hand in hand with King Alined’s daughter. Their parents are bitter rivals. Awkward. But they seem happy, and looking at them, Arthur lets himself feel a little hopeful that this night will mark a new beginning for their two kingdoms.
He reaches up to remove his own mask, letting it slip through his fingers and fall to the floor.
“Honored guests!” he calls, and they turn to him, going quiet for a moment. But before he can say anything else, there’s a loud “WHOOP!” from Gwaine, and then the crowd breaks into cheers and applause.
Arthur lets himself enjoy it for a moment before holding up his hands to quiet his audience. “Thank you all for a splendid night,” he continues. “I hope it was at least fun, and at most... enlightening. I hope that this new day marks new and renewed friendships between our kingdoms and houses, that this dawn marks the dawn of an era of peace and prosperity in Camelot and all the land of Albion.”
The crowd cheers again, and Arthur hopes they sincerely agree. He knows that as the day wears on and the magic of the night wears off, as burdens and responsibilities and thousands of years of history return to people’s minds, they might forget the joy and the friendship they feel now. The union and peace of Albion will be a long, uphill battle to win. But now, he hopes, he has a solid foundation on which to build anew.
“Oi!” Comes a voice from the crowd. It’s Morgana, laughing at him from her corner. “Did you find yourself a suitor? Or did you forget the most important point of this whole thing?”
The crowd laughs with her. Arthur looks down, clears his throat. “I told you to find me,” he announces, and the crowd falls silent, eyes going wide. “And... I hope you do.”
With that, he steps down, and the crowd cheers again, surging forward to shake his hand, clap him on the back, smack the back of his head (Gwaine), lift him into a hug (Percival), and generally express their thanks, congratulations, well-wishes, joy. It’s overwhelming.
And in all that, the person Arthur most wants to see doesn’t appear.
Eventually, the crowd drifts apart, guests going back to their rooms, servants beginning to clean up the discarded food and drink and masks scattered around the room. Arthur stays back, waiting, but none of the servants even throws him a glance.
“Arthur,” says a voice behind him.
His heart leaps, he spins around - but it’s only Merlin, standing there with a dazed look on his face.
“Oh, hello Merlin. Did you have a nice night?”
Merlin says nothing.
Arthur takes in his red lips, his disheveled hair, the flush coloring his cheeks, the light in his eyes. “You certainly look like you had a nice night.”
Merlin still says nothing. Just stands there, staring at Arthur, that dazed look on his face.
“I also had a nice night, thanks for asking,” Arthur says drily. He vaguely remembers that he’d missed Merlin earlier that night, but now that he’s stuck talking to him when there’s someone else out there he’d much rather be talking to, he only feels frustrated, and a little put out.
“I met a nice man,” he continues.
“Did you now?” Merlin asks faintly.
“I did. But I haven’t seen him.”
“Ah. That’s a shame,” Merlin raises an eyebrow.
“What? What is it?”
“Oh, nothing. I met a nice man, too. He turned out to be a colossal idiot when the sun came up,” Merlin shrugs, “but what can you do?”
“Right. Well,” Arthur hesitates, trying to think of something encouraging to say. “I hope he... stops being such a colossal idiot soon. But if not, he doesn’t deserve you.”
“Oh, I agree. Absolutely. Wholeheartedly,” Merlin nods, looking inexplicably like he’s about to burst out laughing.
“Well... good morning, Merlin.” Arthur shakes his head and turns to go.
Lightning strikes.
He turns back slowly, carefully, to see Merlin, doing his best to suppress his laughter. He catches Arthur’s gaze and his face goes suddenly serious, hesitant.
“Oh,” Arthur whispers. He’s never known a truer thing. “It’s you.”