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The night is quiet, apart from the crackling of the fire and every so often stirring of an animal nearby.
Even Merlin is quiet, where he sits next to Arthur. His movements are slow and careful as he runs the cloth over Arthur’s sword. The firelight casts an orange glow across his otherwise pale skin, and Arthur finds himself transfixed by the sight.
He's beautiful.
It's not a word Arthur often lets himself think when it comes to Merlin, but he knows it's true. Sure, it's not as obvious beauty. It's quieter. Understated. From his pale skin to dark hair and blue eyes to the almost shy smile he sends Arthur’s way when he looks up and catches Arthur staring.
Any other time Arthur would clear his throat and look away. Rattle off another task for Merlin to do. But he can't tear his eyes away. He's transfixed. His eyes are drawn to Merlin’s, whose own eyes seem to glow. It could be a trick of the light. It most likely is. At least in this moment. Because he's a lot of things, but he's not stupid, despite how often Arthur might tell him so.
And oh. Oh. I'm in love with him.
The thought doesn't scare him. It doesn't send him running off into the trees. He stays there, looking at Merlin. Only now, it's with new eyes. The eyes of a man that knows he's in love. Merlin looks the same as always. There’s nothing profoundly different about him.
Merlin, for his part, seems oblivious to Arthur’s revelation. He sits there quietly, polishing Arthur’s sword with careful, agile fingers. Arthur is hit with the desire to take the sword away and replace it with his own hand. It’s not as if he has to wonder what Merlin’s hands would feel like on his skin. He knows. Merlin’s been his servant for so long now, so of course, Arthur knows. Perhaps it’s the fact that he knows that makes it harder, that makes his desire all the deeper because he wants to know how they feel in a different way. A way that should be terrifying.
“Something on your mind, sire?” Merlin asks, his voice quiet as his eyes glance Arthur’s way.
This would typically be the moment Arthur would scoff and make a joke, but he doesn’t. He’s still transfixed by Merlin. Even more so now that those blue eyes are looking at him. He feels seen. Seen in a way that only Merlin can manage.
“You.”
The word leaves Arthur’s mouth before he can stop it. Merlin raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching up into a smile. “Oh? Have I done something to displease you, Arthur?”
“No.” Arthur shakes his head. “It’s nothing bad, Merlin.”
“Rare for you to think of me and not find something you're unhappy with,” Merlin says. His tone is light, teasing, but Arthur doesn’t miss the shadow that passes over his face, dimming the brightness in his eyes. That won’t do.
“That’s not true,” Arthur says.
“Of course it is.”
“It’s not ,” Arthur argues. “You don’t know everything that goes on inside my head, Merlin.”
“No?” Merlin raises his hand and gently taps against Arthur’s head.
Arthur’s hand moves fast, grasping Merlin’s wrist. It’s not a hard grip, just enough to keep Merlin from moving away. “We all have our secrets, Merlin. You should know that.”
Merlin gasps and tries to pull his wrist back. Arthur lets him. The last thing he wants is for Merlin to feel trapped or cornered. He puts on a smile, but it’s fake, forced. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, sire. I’m an open book.”
Arthur sighs and runs a hand down his face. He could let Merlin keep up this charade. But he’s tired. “I know.”
“You know?”
“I know,” Arthur says. What he doesn’t say is, ‘and I love you ’ despite the words being there waiting on his tongue. Now isn’t the moment. Arthur can see that. Merlin is tense next to him, his mouth parted and eyes wide. He’s afraid. Arthur hates that he’s put that fear there, or that at least he’s partially responsible. “I know, and you don’t have to be afraid, Merlin.”
Merlin laughs dryly and rolls his eyes, but the tension still doesn’t leave his shoulders. “Of you?”
Again, Arthur is at a crossroads. He could easily follow Merlin’s lead and fall into the easy banter. Or, he could take a different path. “Never of me.”
Merlin studies his face for a while, his gaze assessing. “You’re behaving rather oddly tonight, Arthur.”
Arthur smiles. “As I said, we all have our secrets, Merlin.”
Merlin frowns, “You…” He takes a breath and swallows. “You know you can trust me, sire.”
“I know.” After a moment of hesitation, Arthur nods and finally reaches out and covers Merlin’s hand with his own. “And you can trust me.”
Merlin bites his bottom lip, and Arthur knows he must be trying to decide how much he wants to reveal. A feeling Arthur knows all too well tonight. After a moment, he turns his hand over and squeezes Arthur’s hand. Softly, he says, “I know.”
There’s still so much unsaid between them. So much they need to discuss. One day, when they’re both ready, Arthur prays they will. For now, he’s content to sit next to Merlin, a burning fire in front of them. The revelations of the night are still there on Arthur’s mind, as they will be for the rest of time. Arthur knows the feelings won’t merely go away, nor does he want them to. They’re a part of him now, just as Merlin is and always will be.