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Arthur races the length of the garden behind the castle, his present for Merlin tucked safely inside the pocket in his breeches. He runs until he arrives where he knows he will find Merlin seeking herbs for Gaius, like he does every day at this hour. Once Arthur catches sight of Merlin he slows the rhythm of his steps to a jog and stops to take a deep breath, patting his hair down and arranging his shirt neatly so Merlin doesn’t see him looking disheveled. It wouldn’t do, Merlin’s the messy one and Arthur’s the prince— always tidied up and well dressed.
He approaches casually as he watches Merlin gently place the flowers he’s gathering into a small sack tied to his belt and stops in front of him, a smile on his face.
“Arthur.” A grin slowly spreads across Merlin's face. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you have sword training?”
“I finished earlier than expected and thought about you,” he replies, and upon realising what he’s said he feels his neck warm up, so he glances away swiftly, frowning at himself. "About coming to see you, not about you," he attempts to mend, but Merlin appears to be beaming fondly when Arthur shoots him a glance a second later, so Arthur lets his shoulders sag in relief. “Anyway,” he continues, couching down on the grass in front of Merlin so they are eye level. “I got you a little something.”
“You what?” Merlin sounds shocked and amused all at once. He's the only person capable of making Arthur so flustered and self-conscious. Friends bring each other presents once in awhile just because they want to, don’t they? And ‘a bit more than friends’ do so too, right?
He fishes for the gift inside the pocket and keeps it locked inside his closed fist for a few seconds before opening his palm to reveal his sister Morgana's engagement ring. It’s quite simple, only a plain band of white gold.
Merlin saw it some days back as Morgana went on about the wedding preparations, and Arthur didn't miss the longing in his gaze nor the honesty in his words when he told Morgana how lovely it was.
“Arthur.” Merlin’s eyes widen to the size of plates now, and Arthur’s little smile blooms wide at Merlin’s reaction. “If Morgana finds out, she’ll kill us.”
Arthur pushes Merlin down to the grass with a soft shove to his shoulders. Merlin falls down on his arse and a protest escapes from his lips as he glowers at Arthur half-heartedly, but Arthur ignores him in lieu of sitting beside him, knees brushing together warmly.
Arthur told Merlin the other night as they sneaked to their secret hideaway on the roof of the castle that he doesn’t want any princess to be his wife and queen, thinking about Morgana’s upcoming wedding and after Merlin asked who would he like to marry when the time comes. And then, because he had had a bit of his father’s wine during dinner, Arthur blurted out that he would very much rather marry him. Merlin awkwardly laughed it off at first, but then Arthur had to go and bluntly kiss him to prove his point.
"Is this about the other night? Because you know servants can't marry princes," Merlin tells him quietly, a crease between his eyebrows.
Arthur scowls, at Merlin’s words and the sad tilt to his lips. His reasoning isn't wrong, but Arthur doesn’t care about today's laws. One day he’ll be king so he’ll make it possible. For them. "But princes can marry whoever they want. And I want it to be you." Arthur sees it as simple as that, really.
Merlin seems dubious for a beat, but then a slow proud smile blooms on his face and he gently steals Arthur’s ring from his hands and slips it on. It's slightly big for his spindly fingers, so it falls off and drops to the grass with a muted clang. Arthur is quick to grab the ring, dusting it off before offering it back to Merlin.
“You've got to hide it somewhere,” he tells Merlin.
“Why me?” Merlin doesn’t look too pleased about that.
Arthur lifts both eyebrows imperiously. “Because it’s for you, obviously. And you’ve got it easier, you can magic it away, you know.”
“Arthur,” Merlin hisses, shoving his hand to Arthur’s mouth to shut him up. “You know that’s only for emergencies.”
“Well, this is one,” Arthur deadpans, voice muffled by Merlin’s hand. Merlin moves it away so that Arthur can speak properly. It smells of herbs, like the rest of him, of herbs and nature. “Morgana will cut my head off if she finds out, you said so yourself. And she sleeps next door, it'd be so easy for her to get rid of me, you wouldn't see me ever again. You'd wake up one morning and. . .” Arthur makes a face.
Merlin rolls his eyes. “Then you shouldn’t have stolen it, you prat. She’s going to need it for when she gets married next week.”
“I stole it for you, idiot, you should be radiant with happiness.” Arthur leans his back against the tree trunk behind him.
Merlin sends him a look from beneath his lashes, then flashes him a smile smile. “So, if I marry you,” he starts, eyes glinting playfully. “Do I get a throne for myself beside yours?”
Arthur holds Merlin's gaze with a smile of his own. “Yes, and a crown, too,” he teases, playing along with Merlin’s fantasies.
“That too,” Merlin says excitedly, and Arthur huffs an amused chuckle at Merlin’s antics. He can be so silly sometimes, but Arthur likes him that way the most. He’s not serious or boring like the knights or Morgana; he’s clumsy and funny, and thinks he protects Arthur with his magic when it is Arthur who’s the one really keeping Merlin safe most of the time. But still, Arthur appreciates that Merlin worries, because Arthur worries more about him than anyone else in the world.
“So that’s why you’re friends with me, isn’t it? Because I’m a prince and I can give you nice things for free?” Arthur ask, attempting to look mock-hurt.
Merlin chuckles as he regards him with shiny blue eyes before knocking their shoulders together. “You know that’s not it.”
After they exchange a look that feels far too honest and heated, Arthur rushes to peer down to his lap as his heart skips a beat. “I know,” he replies, because he does. He tilts his head to the side, and smiles. “And even if we don’t ever marry I’ll still give you a crown when I’m king.”
“I actually prefer a throne,” Merlin retorts. "So that I can be at your side at all times, especially when you need me most." He says it with such determination it feels like a promise, as if he is certain he will always be there for Arthur, throne or not.
But maybe one day he will get one. Maybe Arthur will give him one.
Merlin reads his thoughts or perhaps he's just become too good at reading him, because his smile softens just so and he inches nearer, so near he ends up closing his eyes and touching their lips together. Arthur gasps, because this is the first time Merlin's kissed him and not the other way around, and then forces his hand to move, to come up to clutch at the fabric of Merlin’s shirt for leverage because his mind is going wild and his chest is bursting with fondness.
Quicker than Arthur would have liked Merlin’s drawing back, lips still smiling, always smiling.
He mutters some words in that odd language he uses for incanting spells, the ring Arthur’s given him tightly clasped inside his fist. His eyes burn gold for an instant and Arthur stares, taken.
The next time Merlin opens his hand lie in his palm three rings instead of one. Two of them are a copy of Morgana’s original ring, but they look smaller, probably just the right size for them. Even though Arthur would never admit it out loud, Merlin’s quite good at finding solutions, and his magic is always so beautiful to witness and useful Arthur doesn’t understand how his father can say it’s something evil. When Arthur is king, Merlin and him will show the world magic shouldn't be feared but cherished.
“Here,” Merlin whispers, shaking Arthur from his reverie. “Give this back to Morgana so she won’t suspect anything.”
Arthur doesn’t know what to say, and he can't find a better way to thank Merlin than with another kiss. And while it's true he’s giving Merlin much too many of these lately, he simply can't help himself, can't get enough.
Merlin’s smiley lips force the kiss to be a short one this time around, but it’s alright. Tonight, when they meet upstairs at the roof, they will be able to kiss as much as they want, and Arthur will slip the ring between Merlin’s finger and this time it will fit. Then Arthur will promise Merlin to do this again one day when they are older, for real, for the world to see.
Merlin will say yes, and Arthur will kiss him some more. Arthur knows Merlin will grin that grin of his afterwards, happy and careless, and Arthur will feel happy and careless at his side too.
~fin.