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Merlin seriously wondered when Arthur would learn that hunts always led to trouble. Bandits, monsters, storms — something always happened on a hunt.
At least these particular bandits didn’t seem too smart and would be easy to outwit. Their leader had been prattling on about how much ransom they were going to demand for Arthur, completely missing how Merlin had slowly shed the ropes he’d been bound with. Even better, at the moment they were collectively distracted.
Merlin inched closer to Arthur, moving so his body blocked the bandits’ view of his hands as he untied Arthur’s feet. Arthur gave him a small nod. The usual plan then.
Things went wrong just when he moved on to untying Arthur’s hands.
“Hey! You, what are you doing?” shouted one of the bandits.
Blue eyes met his for a split second, then both of them moved, jumping to their feet. Arthur had already grabbed a quite solid branch and, despite having his hands still bound, he managed to knock out the first bandit that came running at them. He threw the branch to Merlin and took the bandit’s sword instead.
Thankfully, the rest of them were so confused by the sudden commotion that they were easy to knock into at least a daze.
Merlin shot a look at Arthur. “Run?”
“Run.”
They ran.
“How long — do you think — they’ll be knocked out?” panted Merlin throwing a look over his shoulder to see if they were being followed.
“Not too long,” replied Arthur grimly. “We need to find a— Merlin watch out!”
Merlin whipped his head back around and tried to stop mid-run, but it was too late. He skidded right over the edge of the unexpected cliff. Time slowed as he fell and turned, scrabbling for purchase, for anything to hold onto and failed.
Abruptly, his fall halted, Arthur’s still bound hands wrapped around his wrist.
“Don’t you dare let go, Merlin,” Arthur bit out, his voice strained with effort.
Merlin’s mind was racing. Arthur wouldn’t be able to pull him up, not with his hands tied like this, and Merlin couldn’t undo the ropes with one hand. He looked down. The gorge he’d fallen into was narrow enough that he’d overlooked it earlier, but it was deep enough to make his head spin. There seemed to be a narrow stream at the bottom of it, though it was impossible to tell whether it had any actual depth or if Merlin would land in shallow water and split his skull on the rocks beneath.
Faint shouts echoed through the trees. The bandits were onto them.
“Arthur, you have to let go.”
“What?!”
“You have to let go,” Merlin repeated. “Run. They won’t be so careless the second time if they catch you.”
He felt calmer than he probably should. There was no guarantee he’d be able to save himself, even with his magic. But it didn’t matter because the bandits sounded angry in the distance and if they hurt Arthur just because Merlin had held him up—
“Arthur, let go.”
“No!” snarled Arthur. “You can’t— I won’t— Just use your damn magic!”
It felt like being struck by lightning. It couldn’t be. Arthur couldn’t know.
“What?” Merlin tried, but it came out so breathless it was barely a word.
“Your magic, damn it, use it! Cut the rope so I can pull you up!”
Perhaps it was ridiculous to fight it, but it was habit more than anything else for Merlin to play dumb and say, “I don’t know what you’re—”
“Oh fuck off with that! I know, Merlin, I’ve known for months. Yes I’m angry, no I would never turn you in — now cut the damn rope!”
Merlin obeyed. Magic surged from his fingertips where they rested against Arthur’s bound wrists, and the ropes fell away.
Arthur gripped him tighter, forearm against forearm now, then used his now freed hand to lever himself against the edge of the cliff and pulled. Merlin rolled onto solid ground, tumbling right into Arthur, who fell backwards from the momentum. Neither of them let go of the other’s arm as they tried to catch their breath.
Merlin’s mind was still reeling, trying to process, to make sense of the revelation Arthur had just dropped on him without warning. Trying to come up with a somewhat eloquent response.
He failed. “You know?!” he blurted, incredulous. “How? How long? Why haven’t you turned me in?”
Arthur stared at him for a moment. Then, as though Merlin was being entirely silly, he rolled his eyes (what a prat!) and—
Oh.
Merlin’s mind blanked completely as Arthur’s lips slotted against his. Something inside him clicked into place, as though he’d been waiting his entire life to finally be whole and now he was. With Arthur. It felt as though the world was shifting with the weight of it, settling into something new yet old, novel yet familiar, like returning to a long forgotten home.
It was over too soon, and Merlin chased after Arthur’s lips when he pulled away.
“Bandits,” Arthur murmured against Merlin’s mouth.
Right. Bandits.
“I could just take them out,” Merlin breathed, his magic already buzzing under his skin.
Arthur gave him a stern look. “Come on.”
“Ugh, fine.”
They got to their feet, letting go of each other at long last. Suddenly, Merlin felt awkward. What the hell had he just done? Had it been him? He wasn’t sure anymore.
Just as awkwardness began to spiral into borderline panic, Arthur took Merlin’s face between his hands.
“Hey, look at me. We’ll talk about this later, alright?”
“All of it?”
“All of it,” promised Arthur. “But right now, we need to go.”
Merlin tried to wrap his head around Arthur’s words. There were shouts in the distance, shouts that were coming closer with each moment.
Bandits. Following them. Arthur knew. Had to run.
“Okay.”
Arthur smiled and placed a chaste kiss on Merlin’s lips, which promptly sent a tingle down Merlin’s spine. He took Merlin’s hand. Laced their fingers together tightly.
Merlin’s heart skipped a beat.
Arthur knew.
They ran. Together.