Work Text:
Sunlight filtered down the leaves of the trees, offering shade to the guests. A good swathe of them spilled into the clearing, sitting on the soft grass or on fallen tree trunks, which had been brought over for that purpose by the Druids. A lot of people had come to see the royal wedding, and now that it was celebrated in the open air, there was a place for more than just members of the court. Arthur let his eyes drift over the people, his people. Soon, very soon, their people.
He shot a look towards Merlin, who was standing with him in the middle of the clearing. The druids had worked together with Camelot’s servants to create archways of flowers and twinkling lights floating in the air, giving the whole scene an air of magic and romance. Yet all these preparations were nothing compared to the sheer beauty of the man before him. Merlin was dressed in flowing silver robes that glistened in the afternoon sun, embroidered with enchanting patterns in dark thread. Still, Merlin’s earth-shattering smile outshone all the craft and beauty surrounding them. Arthur felt heedy with excitement and love, a happy humming settling in his chest for what he hoped would be a very long time indeed.
Arthur had often imagined what his wedding would be like. An advantageous union with a woman he barely knew. The sound of Geoffrey droning through their official obligations as a married couple. His father, in the back, proud but also, always, disappointed.
The thought of his father made Arthur swallow. The memory of Uther’s vengeance was still fresh in his mind. His father had killed even after death, had tried to punish Arthur for following his heart and doing what he believed was right. Arthur had tried to make peace with that betrayal, but as his eyes ran over the wedding guests, finding the space next to Hunith empty, he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his chest.
Merlin must have noticed, for he squeezed Arthur’s hand softly. Arthur braved a smile.
He might not have a family of blood anymore, but he still had a family of choice. He could hear his knights talking excitedly, no doubt making bets about who could stomach the most ale during this evening’s feast. Gwen was leaning against her brother, smiling widely but with a handkerchief at the ready. Gaius was already crying and not even bothering to hide.
When Arthur met Hunith’s gaze, he was reminded of the way she had hugged him when he’d presented her with her new house. She hadn’t said it, but he had understood all the same: he was part of her family, too.
And then there were the others. Hundreds of people that Arthur barely knew, but who had come to see his and Merlin’s wedding all the same. Druids and knights, nobles and commoners stood together under the twinkling lights, each face wearing a precious smile. Children played in the woods, some using magic for their games. Their laughter bounced along the trees.
If Uther wouldn’t understand, that was his loss. This was the kingdom Arthur wanted to build. With Merlin by his side.
Returning his eyes to his betrothed, Arthur squeezed his hand back. He thought his own smile might match Merlin's in brilliance.
Iseldir cleared this throat and made his way to the middle of the field. Parents called their children back, and a hush of anticipation fell over the crowd as Iseldir started the ceremony.
The old druid spoke in the ancient tongue, blessings and prayers and predictions. If he were honest, Arthur hardly followed a word that was said. He was far too busy trying to calm down his raging heartbeat. Losing himself in Merlin’s eyes, in the eyes of the man foretold to be his husband, Arthur simply couldn’t believe his luck. It was taking all of his self-control not to kiss Merlin right now, marriage rites be damned. Perhaps Merlin could use his magic again…
Arthur was torn from his dreaming by a loud crash. A gasp rippled through the crowd, the whole atmosphere turning from peaceful to frantic as a figure crawled out from between the trees.
In one swift motion, Arthur had manoeuvred Merlin behind him and unsheathed the ceremonial sword hanging on his hip. He was vaguely aware that Merlin’s magic would probably serve as a much more useful weapon than his blunted blade, but he hoped it would never get that far.
Motioning for his knights to back down, Arthur approached Morgana. Her hair was a tangled mess, and the dark rags covering her body were a far cry from the elegant dresses she used to wear. Still, the sight of his half-sister filled him with relief.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, trying to make his voice void from both fear and longing.
Morgana cocked her head, regarding him for a moment. He might have been imagining it, but he thought he saw a twinkle in her eye that hadn’t been there when he last saw her, all bitter and enraged.
“I heard congratulations were in order,” Morgana simply said, tone bordering on mocking. But then her face softened into something sweet, a painfully familiar smile trembling on her lips.
Dropping his sword to the ground, Arthur rushed over to his sister and wrapped her in his arms. It took Morgana a moment to reciprocate. When she did, she clutched him tightly, as if she never wanted to let him go.
“Thank you,” she whispered, face buried in his neck. Arthur didn’t know what she was thanking him for. The hug, his trust, his motions to legalise magic. It didn’t matter. He would do it all a hundred times over for her.
He didn’t know how long they stood there, siblings reunited, until they both seemed to realise where they were and disentangled themselves. Arthur loudly cleared his throat and pretended not to see the way Morgana wiped her sleeve across her face.
“Anyways,” she said, voice still a bit wobbly with emotion, “I have a present for you. For the both of you.” She turned towards Merlin. Something seemed to pass between them, a silent understanding, and then she approached him, guiding Arthur back with her.
As they stood in front of each other again, Morgana took a satchel hanging from her belt and carefully emptied it into her hand.
Two golden rings glittered in the sunlight. Each band had a jewel embedded in it, and it only took Arthur a moment to recognize that it was made from the same stone that had started their adventure with the frobana.
“I had a strange dream the other night, and when I woke up these were beneath my pillow,” Morgana explained. “There was a very adamant voice telling me to deliver these to Emrys and the Once and Future King, and who am I to refuse a goddess?”
If anyone could refuse the Triple Goddess, it would be Morgana, Arthur thought with pride swelling in his heart. Or Merlin.
God, the two of them together were going to drive him insane.
He couldn’t imagine a happier life.
Once everyone had settled down again, Iseldir continued his rites. After their hands had been fastened together, Arthur used his free hand to put one of the rings on Merlin’s finger. As he brushed over the stone, it turned a deep red. When Merlin returned the gesture, the ring on Arthur’s finger carried a golden stone.
Drawing in a deep breath, Arthur couldn’t stop his eyes from overflowing with happiness. He pressed his lips against Merlin’s, Iseldir’s words reverberating through their kiss: “I announce you husband and husband!”
All around them, cheers erupted while the two men lost themselves in each other, bound hands clutched tightly together, the metal of their rings clinking.
When they finally tore apart, Arthur was delirious with joy. Together, the king and the greatest sorcerer walked back to Camelot. Their guests trailed behind them, weaving through the citadel’s streets in one delighted parade. The streets were lined with more people, forming a guard of honour for the newlyweds, showering them with flower petals and cheers.
They passed the farm Arthur had bought for Hunith, and he noted with happiness how some of her crops were starting to grow already. Then past the marketplace, where he had met Merlin on that fateful day so very long ago. Climbing the stairs of the castle, they reached the ballroom where Arthur had met his worst fear. The room was a far cry from how it had been that night when the frobana had taken a hold of Merlin. It was light now, and filled with tables laden with food. Still, it was hard to fully dispel the memory of Merlin’s blood on the marble floor.
Arthur made a silent promise to himself to never let that happen again, to protect Merlin and let Merlin protect him until only old age still formed a threat to their bliss. Turning to his manser-, frie-, husband , he pressed a kiss against Merlin’s temple, revelling in the warm life of him.
“Don’t go turning maudlin on me tonight,” Merlin chided him softly, as though he had read his mind. And it turned out that it was quite easy to fulfill that request.
Seated around the table, eating and drinking to his heart’s content, Arthur accepted every person’s congratulations, whether they were a slimy noble or a young druid girl who seemed quite smitten with Merlin, too. Over the course of the night, he spoke extensively with Morgana, learning about her travels and magic. On his right side, Merlin was pretending to be annoyed when yet another Druid spoke to him telepathically, but it wasn’t very convincing with the huge grin he was sporting.
When the heavy beat of wings sounded over the castle’s roof, far too close already, it took Arthur’s tipsy, sated, elated mind a bit long to recognise the threat. By the time he’d jumped to his feet, Merlin was already pushing him down again, an apologetic look on his face.
“I promise I can explain!” he swore, just as a booming voice made the glass quiver in the windowsills.
“CONGRATULATIONS, YOUNG WARLOCK!”
After a brief moment of shock, Arthur threw his head back into his neck and laughed, deep ecstatic bellows.
Life with Merlin would never be predictable, he already knew. Wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes, he watched his husband chide a giant dragon, and let the immense fondness wash over him.
He couldn’t wait for this next adventure to start.
THE END