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When Arthur was a young boy, merely ten winters old, he fell in love for the first time. It was with a daughter of one of the servants. Merida was his age, with dark hair cascading around her face in ringlets, and sparkling brown eyes that reminded him of honey.
They were sitting in the garden, talking about flowers, and on instinct, Arthur placed his hand over hers. She had blushed, red coating her dark cheeks, and Arthur’s face resembled a tomato of sorts. Her hand was soft and smooth, despite her being a servant, and Arthur desperately prayed his hands weren’t sweaty. She kissed his cheek when she left, and Arthur spent the day mooning over her.
His father pulled him aside that night and explained to him in the kindest voice Arthur had ever heard from him. He had said, “Arthur, you’re going to be a Prince someday. While Merida may be a delightful young girl, you’ll have to marry Camelot. You cannot marry a servant. When you’re older, you’ll understand. I let you have today because I understand how the heart works.”
The next day, Merida saw him and ran away, and Arthur never saw her again. It broke his heart and he poured out his sorrows in Morgana’s lap while she stroked his hair softly. She pulled him into a hug. As she wiped his tears with a steady hand than most, she said, “When you’ll be King, things will be different.”
His eyes closed and he slept in the arms of his sister that night, for even if she wasn’t his sister by blood, she was his sister by choice, and often, that’s a stronger bond than blood.
He didn’t allow himself to fall for anyone after that. Not even the stable hand, whose green eyes twinkled under the sun and Arthur’s hand itched to trace the freckles on his nose, and the boy’s sister, whose red hair seemed to be flaming whenever she passed him by with a small smile on her face.
When Arthur was crowned prince one and ten winters later, Uther decided it was time for him to marry.
“Father, I cannot marry a person I don’t know!” Arthur cried, trying to reason with his father. But he knew that once he had set his mind on something, nothing could change it. Morgana was proof of that.
“My decision is final, Arthur. I’ve already sent out the message to all our neighboring Kingdoms,” Uther said, not looking up from his lunch. “We’ll have a ball sometime in the next month when all the suitors will arrive.”
“But father-”
The King slammed his hands on the table and finally looked at Arthur. “I said, my decision is final.”
Arthur chewed the inside of his cheek, fury rising inside him. He bowed stiffly and fled the room. He went straight to Morgana’s chambers and banged the door open. Morgana was sitting in her bed and braiding Guinevere’s hair, who was on the ground. Arthur did not question the position or the relationship between Morgana and her maid. Just because he couldn’t love freely, didn’t mean he would rat out Morgana’s love. He wasn’t cruel.
The women looked up at his burning face taut with rage and shuffled to make room for him. Arthur closed the door behind him and sat down next to Morgana, dropping his head on her shoulder. He did not mind Gwen’s presence, as she had grown to be a close friend of his.
“What did Uther do now?” Morgana asked as she looped a bunch of hair over another on Gwen’s head.
“I’m to marry soon. For the Kingdom.”
Her hands stilled and Gwen looked up with concern on her face. Morgana shifted so her arm could easily go around Arthur’s back, pulling him into a one-sided hug. “So soon?”
Arthur sighed. “I am of age, aren’t I? That seems to be enough in father’s eyes.”
Morgana hummed in understanding. Gwen had gotten up and wrapped her arm around his other side. The three of them stayed in the embrace, with Arthur dropping silent tears on Morgana’s shoulder, his anger melting away to numbness.
When the time for the ball came around, Arthur was dressed in his finest clothes. His cloak was tied together with a dragon clasp firmly around his shoulders. It was tied together with his best white tunic and black pants, with a gold belt around his waist. His hair was smoothened down by Morgana’s expert hands. He did have to bat them away when she attempted to apply kohl to his eyes.
The guests laughed and chattered away at the feast, with music playing softly in the background. Several nobles had taken to the floor with their chosen partners and were dancing with smiles on their faces. There were suitable ladies and lords trying to catch his eye, which he desperately tried to avoid.
After turning down the seventh suitor who asked him for a dance, he turned to Morgana and grasped her hand.
“Dance with me,” he said, and pulled her amid the dancing mass, not bothering to wait for her response.
“Arthur!” She glared at him and put her arms on his shoulders. He held her by her waist, trying to avoid eye contact with his father.
“You can’t really be upset, Gana. I saw you avoiding Sir Galahad actively. I pretty much saved you,” he said, trying to play it off cool. Her glare only hardened.
“Be that as it may, I can save myself. Besides, it would him who would need saving if he even tried to ask me to dance.”
Arthur had to agree with her on that. May the Triple Goddesses save the person who would try to court her. She and Gwen were in a steady relationship, and any man’s attempt to woo her would result in him being threatened by Gwen and then finally murdered by Gana. So he chose to avoid that response and steer the topic away. “Any ideas on how I can escape tonight?”
Her glare melted into a cunning smirk, that Arthur had grown to know very well. It meant that she was planning something. He saw the glint in her eyes and asked, “What? What is it? What’re you hiding now?”
“Oh, nothing. We just have some guests missing, that’s all,” she said as he twirled her to the beats of the music. His reply was stuck in his throat as the doors to the ballroom swung open and in walked the ‘missing guests’.
The man had a strong beard that framed his face well, and his clothes were worthy of a King, if not a noble. His arm was held by his wife, Arthur assumed, whose brown curls framed her glowing face. The Lady’s face was kind and lit with a smile. His gaze drifted to the man who stood beside the couple and he almost lost his footing.
He was beautiful. A silver and blue circlet rested on a mop of dark locks, which were just long enough to curl around his ears. His dark blue jacket outlined his slender figure, and a grey neckerchief peeked at the collar. His eyes were sparkling under the light of the torches, melting from blue to gold and back to blue. And his lips were pulled in a soft smile.
Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad idea, after all, he thought.
---
This was definitely a bad idea. Uther had taken one look at the Lord who had arrived, and his happy face turned somber. He beckoned Arthur over, no doubt, for introductions. He shared a perturbed look with Morgana, who only gave him her signature smirk and pulled away, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers.
Arthur pulled at his collar, trying to breathe, and went to his father.
“Arthur, meet King Balinor Emrys, and Queen Hunith Emrys,” the King said, nodding at him, indicating him to bow. He did so, and his eyes drifted to the young man beside them. He wasn’t even looking at him, Arthur noticed. His gaze was all over the room, taking in the music and the dancing.
“Pleased to finally meet you, Prince Arthur,” King Balinor said and took his hand, shaking it in form of goodwill. Arthur glanced at his father, a little shocked with the air of familiarity that the King had addressed him with. Noticing his confusion, Queen Hunith chuckled. “Did your father never speak of us?”
Arthur shook his head, mute.
“I’m not surprised. Uther has always had a stick up his arse.”
A jolt passed through Arthur at the way the King spoke of his father. Uther, however, did not seem to be insulted. He spoke in a stern, yet amused voice, “Shut up, Balinor. You haven’t spoken to me since-”
“20 years. I’m aware,” Balinor finished Uther’s sentence. The King nodded and finally looked at their son, who was sporting an amused look at their exchange. Arthur was still reeling in this bit of information when his father spoke again. “This is your son, I assume?”
Uther nodded at the man, who bowed, and spoke for the first time since he entered, “Merlin Emrys, your highness.”
If Arthur was struck with his physical beauty before, it was nothing compared to how his voice hit him now. It was deep and enriching like Merlin had pulled in the Earth’s very turn into his throat and spoken with music in his heart. He found himself wanting the young man to speak more. And then Merlin turned his eyes to him like he had heard his thoughts. Arthur felt heat crawling up his neck and coating his cheeks.
Their parents had engaged in a lively conversation, with mentions of pranks, which Arthur noted in his mind to ask Balinor later, and childhood games.
“Prince Arthur, yes?” Merlin asked him, an easy smile on his lips. Arthur swallowed and nodded. Merlin held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”
Arthur’s heart climbed up his lungs and he put his hand in the Prince’s tentatively. “If you’ll have me.”
Merlin’s eyebrow quirked up. “Didn’t realize a dance equated to getting married.”
Arthur realized what he had spoken and felt like digging a grave and hiding there. He laughed nervously, and Merlin’s smile turned a bit lopsided as he led him to the center of the room. Arthur brought his free hand to Merlin’s waist while Merlin’s hand moved to his shoulder.
The crowd parted away, and the music took a slower tune, as the world around them melted away. Their movements weren’t perfect, with Merlin being quite a clumsy dancer. He stepped on Arthur’s foot a couple of times and mumbled apologies at Arthur’s winces.
“So where are you from? Father didn’t mention it before,” Arthur said once they got into a comfortable sway. Merlin shrugged, “Far away. You wouldn’t have heard of it.”
Arthur puffed his chest up a little, trying to impress his partner. “I know every Kingdom. Try me.”
Merlin lifted his eyebrow again, mirth in his crystal eyes. “A bit full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Well, I am a royal prince.”
“A royal prat, more like.”
Arthur spluttered. Despite being a Prince, Merlin was quite an insolent thing. “I could take you apart with one blow.”
Merlin’s eyebrow rose even higher if that was possible. He looked amused at Arthur and said, “I could take you apart with less than that.”
Arthur let his eyes roam over Merlin’s body. He looked fit, but lankier than most of his knights even. “Are you sure? I’ve been trained to kill since birth, you know? And you don’t look like one of those tough-muscly, save the world, kind of guy.”
“Thanks. How long have you been training to be a prat?”
“You can’t talk to me like that,” Arthur said, in one last attempt of saving his dignity. Merlin looked amused at his attempts and smirked. “Sorry, how long have you been training to be a prat, my lord?”
Arthur didn’t say anything to that, just gripped Merlin's waist harder and squeezed his hand. Merlin laughed, and Arthur stepped on his foot. Merlin’s laugh was open, with his head thrown back, exposing his pale neck. The sound was extremely pleasant to Arthur, and he wanted to hear it more. Sadly, that was when the song got over, and both of them stepped back, their hands falling to their respective sides.
“I’ll see you soon, Arthur,” Merlin said, his golden eyes gleaming with Joy. As he walked away, Arthur mumbled to himself, “There’s something about you, Merlin. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
---
That night, Arthur twisted and turned in his bed, but he was unable to sleep. The Emrys family was staying in one of the rooms in the East Tower, close to Gaius, the Court Physician’s chambers. Turns out, Gaius was Queen Hunith’s brother.
Ultimately, Arthur gave up and decided he needed fresh air. He wore his black hooded cloak and crept to the top of the Keep. It was one of his favorite places. Whenever he needed some air, some space to think, he would find himself up there. He could see the entirety of Camelot from there, and the moon seemed much closer.
He stood at the edge with his eyes closed, breathing in the cool air of the night.
“Hi!”
He jumped backward in fright when Merlin spoke from just over his shoulder.
“Did I scare you?” Merlin said, leaning against the wall and looking at him. Arthur took several deep breaths trying to calm his racing heart before he responded.
“Don’t be stupid, Merlin. Princes don’t get scared. What are you doing here?”
Merlin looked at him with the same glint in his eye that Morgana had when she was about to tell him something life-changing. She had the same look when she told him of her relationship with Gwen, and she had the same look when she told him of her magic. And this look scared him. So seeing it on Merlin’s face terrified him a lot.
“Make a guess, dollop head.”
Arthur glared at him, trying to cover his fear. He got up, dusting off his trousers. “That’s not even a word.”
Merlin shrugged, “Sure is.”
“Really? What does it mean then?”
“In two words?”
“Yeah.”
“Prince Arthur,” he said, grinning at the gobsmacked face of Arthur. “Now, your turn.”
Huh? “My turn what?”
“Your turn to tell me what you’re doing here.”
“You didn’t answer my question, though,” Arthur pointed out, crossing his arms. Merlin stuck out his tongue. “Tell me.”
Arthur leaned on the wall next to him, their shoulders grazing slightly. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Merlin hummed next to him. “Me too.”
“So, Prince Merlin. Where are you from?” Arthur asked, looking at him. Merlin’s head was tilted up as he looked at the sky. He didn’t answer for a while, and when he did, he turned his head to look at Arthur, “Vevetis.”
“Vevetis?” Arthur frowned, wondering if he had heard the name before. Merlin laughed softly beside him. “I told you that you wouldn’t have heard of it. It’s far away from here. Across the mountains and the sea, shrouded by mist and fog.”
“It sounds beautiful,” Arthur admitted. Merlin’s expression grew wistful as he agreed, “It is. Very beautiful. There are so many lakes, with forests blooming with life. The people are merry too.”
Arthur stared at Merlin as the latter rambled on, his face brimming with pure joy. “We even have a royal bird and everything. His name is Kilgharrah. He’s a bit of an asshole, but that’s okay. We have celebrations where the whole kingdom comes together under one moon and dances. Our goblets don’t run empty. We build a huge bonfire in the center of the city, and everyone is invited to pray, dance, and sing. There are no masters or servants during those times. Everyone is one. It’s truly a sight to behold. Oh, and courting rituals are very different in my home too. When one wants to court another, it’s traditional for them to give the person they want to court a feather.”
“A feather?” Arthur exclaimed. Merlin nodded vigorously. “Yes, a feather. Different feathers have different meanings there, see? For example, a brown feather would symbolize respect and friendship. A black feather would mean protection. A pink feather shows deep romantic love, and so on.”
Arthur nodded, following each word. As distracted as he was getting occasionally by Merlin’s red lips, and twinkling eyes, he found himself paying attention to what the prince was saying.
“It sounds amazing,” he said. Merlin looked at him with an unrecognizable look in his eye and Arthur found himself unable to look away. For a long time, they stood there, under the blanket of stars and cool air, just staring into each other’s eyes. No words were spoken. They didn’t need to be. Even in silence, Prince Merlin understood Arthur, and Arthur understood him.
After some time, Merlin looked away, a smile on the edge of his lips. He pushed off the wall and regarded Arthur one last time for the night. “I should get going. Goodnight, Arthur.”
As he pulled away, Arthur’s hand grasped Merlin and pulled him back a little. Merlin looked at him with wide eyes when Arthur placed a soft kiss on his knuckles.
“Goodnight, Merlin.”
---
For the next few days, Arthur found himself finding excuses to spend time with Prince Merlin. Queen Hunith looked at him with an amused look while Gaius’s eyebrow rose higher than ever when Arthur asked them if they had seen Merlin.
While training, he found himself getting lost in thought of Merlin and got his ass handed to him by Morgana.
“Gods, Arthur,” she said, punching his arm. “You’re hopeless.”
He rubbed his arm where she hit him, chuckling embarrassingly. It was true. He was turning into a hopeless sap.
Finally, the time came when Uther asked him if he had made his decision. They stood in the King’s chambers, with Arthur standing at the window and his father sitting on his desk. Arthur looked out, to see Prince Merlin walking next to Gwen, holding a basket of fruits that were no doubt being held by her moments earlier. He saw Morgana run to them, and Merlin greeting her with his bright smile. He saw his two closest friends laughing happily at whatever Merlin had said when the man himself looked up and caught his eye.
Merlin waved at him, cheekily grinning. Morgana sent him her knowing smirk, her hands brushing Gwen’s, who shared her expression.
He made his decision and told his father.
Uther looked at him for a moment, before bellowing for Balinor. King Balinor sauntered into the room, and Uther flipped him a gold coin, grumbling about lost bets. Balinor grinned at him, and then thumped Arthur on his back. “You have my permission.”
---
It had been 6 months since Arthur had begun courting Merlin. In this course of time, he found out about Merlin’s magic and the fact that magic was practiced openly in Vevetis. He also realized that this was hidden from his father, for obvious reasons. But he was not his father. Magic wasn’t evil. If anything, Morgana was proof of that. And now, that belief just got stronger, because there was no way Merlin was evil.
Merlin, who cried when a bird broke its wing, who laughed at his bad jokes, braided Gwen’s hair with yellow flowers, and teased him mercilessly alongside Morgana. Merlin was anything but evil. And he was completely besotted.
He decided it was time to ask the big question. The proposal was completely Morgana’s idea.
Uther was holding another feast to celebrate the good harvest, and Arthur sneaked Merlin out for a walk in the gardens. As they walked deeper, he got to his knees. Merlin gaped at him when Arthur pulled out a ring. After tirelessly searching for a perfect feather on his side, with Gwen sketching beautiful designs, and some crafty magic from Morgana’s side, they had been successful in forging a ring out of the feather. It was a simple band, with curving into the tips of the feather. Colored gems shone on each tip, giving it a radiant glow under the moonlight.
Arthur took a deep breath and forced back all his anxiety. “Prince Merlin. I’m not sure how to say it, so I’ll just go for it. I’ve fallen in love with you. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
Merlin continued staring at him with a stunned look on his face. There was a long pause where Arthur began to doubt everything. He began to scramble to his knees, and stuttered over his words, “Or not. I think I misinterpreted the situation, and if so, you have my deepest apologies-”
“You’re a complete clotpole.”
“Eh?” Arthur’s head whipped up so fast he was afraid he broke his neck. Merlin’s expression flickered between anger and happiness and Arthur wasn’t sure what to think. Finally, it settled on anger.
“You just had to choose today, didn’t you?”
“What?”
Merlin, oblivious to Arthur’s confusion, continued rambling. “Why couldn’t you have chosen any other day? Now I owe Gwen ten silver. I was supposed to ask you before you did, and now you’ve ruined everything.”
“What?!”
Merlin’s hand left him and fumbled through his jacket pockets and he almost threw a ring at Arthur’s confounded face. “See?”
Finally, Arthur’s brain caught up with the situation and he grabbed Merlin’s hand, holding him still. “So that’s a yes?”
Merlin’s eyes became soft, and a smile took over the scowl on his face. He lifted his free hand and smacked Arthur lightly on the head.
“Obviously, you prat.”
Arthur grinned, and quickly slid the ring over Merlin’s finger. It fit perfectly. Merlin did the same, putting his ring over Arthur’s finger. It was a simple golden band, with a dragon engraved on the surface. Simple, and elegant.
They held in the embrace, looking at each other with matching grins. Eventually, they leaned in. They closed the distance with franticly beating hearts, their lips meeting in a soft, but passionate kiss.
For a first kiss, Arthur decided, it was pretty amazing. Arthur’s hand moved to Merlin’s back and pulled him to his chest, Merlin’s hand’s going around his neck. Someone coughed nearby, and sounds of laughter reached his ears, but Arthur ignored it.
They pulled apart after some time, chests heaving as they took in gulps of air. They did not pull back fully, however, and touched their foreheads together.
Music floated from the castle, filling the air. Merlin stepped back and held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”
Arthur was hit with a sense of déjà vu as he put his hand in Merlin’s. “If you’ll have me.”
“Always,” Merlin chuckled and pulled him closer. His arms went around Arthur’s neck as Arthur held him close by his waist. They swayed under the night sky in each other’s arms, breathing each other in.
---
The wedding was in Spring. It was a beautiful affair overall. Uther had cried, Balinor teased him, and Hunith cried some more. Morgana got drunk and dragged Gwen away, who received a teasing smirk from Arthur. Gaius gave Arthur a stern talk, which scarred him for life, and then promptly gulped down a lot of ale. Merlin's friend Will had also threatened him with some colorful words and soon joined Gaius in the drinking.
Kilgharrah made an appearance and Uther fainted. Balinor shooed him away with a lot of curses, but not before he had sprouted some confusing words on Destiny and coins and halves.
In short, the wedding was a complete blast. Arthur shared a look with his husband, husband, Merlin, and knew that it was worth it.
He pulled him closer, an arm around his waist, and Merlin rested his head on Arthur’s shoulder. Everybody was dancing now. He saw the happy faces of everyone and knew the happiest one was his own.
“I love you,” Merlin mumbled. Arthur placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “I love you too, dollop head.”
“That’s my word,” Merlin grumbled, snuggling closer to his side.
Arthur’s hold on his waist tightened and he pulled him flush against his chest. “Not anymore, it’s not.”
“Prat.”
“Idiot,” Arthur retorted.
“Cabbagehead.”
“Dollop head.”
Merlin scowled, but his eyes were full of love. “I hate you so much.”
Arthur grinned. “No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t.”
Needless to say, they lived happily ever after, with the Kingdom only suffering from their banter and hopeless love for each other.