Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The true beginning of their relationship is a much contested topic.

If you read the official statement from the Royal Household, it would tell the story of how the handsome Arthur Pendragon (Son of the Duke of York fifth in line for the throne), dashingly invited his fellow Oxford student Merlin Emrys on a charming dinner together.

It was, officially, a beautiful October afternoon when Arthur was walking across the quad and saw the boy who caught his eye last term in his Intro to British Poetry course. It might have been the look of determination Merlin had while doing his essay or the way the autumn light reflected on his dark hair, but Arthur simply had to run over and ask him to a nice dinner. Gallantly.

Merlin rolls his eyes at this story and denies Arthur could ever be that romantic. Arthur didn’t think it described the true beginning, but the basics were correct. Except the weather was shit that day.

Merlin claims their relationship began four months earlier on the weekend before the start of summer break. He knows he had been mad. Furious even. Test results for his poetry course came out, and Merlin was four percent lower than that idiot noble handsome prat. He had spent every other day for the past three months arguing with the blond about everything under the sun, and Mr. Most Eligible Bachelor in Britain Who Happened to Have an Ambiguous Sexuality now had to have academic proof that he was four percent more right than he was.

As a result, Merlin got raffishly drunk with Gwen at a seedy club. He didn’t want to think about condescending explanations of Keats or gorgeous blue eyes, and six shots of tequila seemed like the best way to clear his mind.

Twenty minutes into a drunk monologue Gwen hit him with a “Jesus Christ Merlin. Can you please stop talking about him for one night? Get your arse off this bar stool and try to have fun!” Which was incredibly rude, but watching her run off to have a flirty conversation with the handsome dark haired fellow in the corner flipped a switch in Merlin. He was allowed to have fun, he decided. He should have been having fun.

Merlin shoved his way into the crowd and let himself go to the thumping music. Yes, this was much better than sulking about four measly percentage points. Lowered inhibitions were put to much better use in throwing yourself at strangers.

Someone seemed to agree, and a solid body slid up behind him. Merlin must have been going through a dry spell because it felt bloody nice. He grinded back and let the rest of the world drip away.

The music changed to something a little slower, and everything became just a little bit dirtier. The flashing lights in the dark, the sweat rolling down his collar, the beat of the heart of the firm man behind him. It all came out of focus when the man behind him spoke.

“The way you move your hips should be illegal,” Arthur fucking Pendragon murmured in his ear. He wrapped his arms around Merlin and put a hand right above his naval.

This was the moment Merlin realized he will never find peace. The beginning of the end. Merlin’s future would be defined by this posh git. But it didn’t matter because the sense of relief he felt when he learned the man he had been arguing with and pining over for the past three months wanted him back was immeasurable.

Merlin turned around to face him. With annoyance and determination in his voice, he spoked over the music, “Just. Shut up. Please.” Merlin grabbed his hair and pulled him into a bruising kiss. The only other words needed were “Take me home”.

In the days before summer break, Arthur and Merlin managed to sneak away five more times for bickering and sex. There was a silent agreement that it wasn’t serious, but that was mostly based on misunderstandings over gossip (Merlin), a failure to express feelings (Arthur), and stubbornness (both). When they both left campus to return home, Merlin honestly thought he would never see Arthur again and tried to ignore the pain in his chest.

The public relations team for the Royal Household did not want to touch that story with a ten-foot-pole and stuck with the crisp autumn afternoon story.

Arthur’s perception of the beginning of their relationship took place three months earlier. He had just come back to school after spring break and was antsy.

Uther was seething over the… reputation Arthur had created over the fall and winter. Sure, he went clubbing with mates on weeknights and maybe there had been paparazzi pictures about his unconfirmed flavor of the week and perhaps these meaningless flings were with men, but his father was blowing things out of proportion. His cousin Prince Kay had endless scandals with drugs and orgies, and getting mad about a couple blurry photos of alleged necking was ridiculous.

The pressure to please Uther, the royal image, and his own pent-up horniness were getting to be too much.

When Arthur walked into Intro to Poetry at 8 o’clock on the first day spring term, he was eager start the new year better and was a little on edge. All he wanted to do was sit up near the professor and ignore the whispers from his classmates.

“Watch were you’re going, idiot,” Arthur said as he shouldered passed a smaller student in his way. Papers spilled everywhere, and it looked like the poor boy was going to cry. Arthur fought to roll his eyes at the dramatics and sat down in his seat.

Someone scoffed behind him. “Gosh, Morris. Looks like some people haven’t had their morning coffee yet,” the sarcastic voice quipped. Arthur in fact had an overpriced caramel macchiato before coming to class but resisted the urge to turn around and correct the stranger. “We can probably blame noble inbreeding for giant, rude cabbageheads.”

The need to defend his family did prompt Arthur to turn in his seat and face his slanderer. A dark head of hair was bent down helping Morris pick up his papers. Biting words about peasants and shabby clothes were on the tip of his tongue, but the big eared peasant looked up.

Something about his blue eyes. His crooked smile. The genuine aura of defiance and friendliness. Arthur decided then and there that he had to get to know him, how he ticked, how to make him smile like that forever.

That was the beginning of their relationship.

Yes, Arthur immediately insulted ears, and sure, he spent the rest of the term challenging every point Merlin made in their 8am Intro to fucking Poetry course just to see him riled up. And perhaps, it took him three months and liquid courage to make a move at the club and another four months just to tell him that he bloody liked him, but Arthur still contends that their relationship began the moment he saw Merlin’s eyes.

---------

“And then he sent my mom handcrafted soaps for Christmas! Can you believe it, Gwen?” Merlin takes another swing of the cheap wine. “Who does that? We’ve been dating for, like, three seconds, and he sent a woman he’s never met expensive pink shampoo!”

Gwen fights to not roll her eyes off the couch. After four months of Arthur-complaining, she learned it didn’t help to try to argue. “Yeah, what a crazy thing to do,” she deadpans as she texted Lance from her lap.

“I know! That reminds me of time he, have I told you about the dog and horse incident? Anyway Arthur-”

Gwen also learned it didn’t help to in indulge Merlin. It had been fun for the first couple weeks. Her best friend is dating a royal! She got to know one of Britain’s most interesting people, and her favorite person in the world gets to have his happily ever after.

Except it turns out knowing somewhat famous celebrity wasn’t very exciting. Arthur in real life didn’t know anything about Gwen’s favorite actors or how to get the best table at the one nice restaurant in town. All he seemed to talk about was baking, World War I history, and Merlin. On their first official double date, Arthur quickly answered that he knew nothing about his cousin Prince Kay’s underground sex dungeon and then spent half an hour explaining the effect the Spanish Flu on troops in Germany in 1919. Merlin just looked at him the entire time with adoration in his eyes and called him a dork, causing the couple to bicker until it was time to pick up the check. Gwen’s best friend did find his Prince Charming, but they were determined to drive everyone around them crazy.

Lance texts back that he isn’t free, and Gwen resolves herself to a night of indulgence. “Where is Grand Duke Arthur anyway? Don’t you two usually study on Fridays?”

“He’s at some gala for whales or penguins or sad children.” Merlin quickly glances at his phone. “Looks like a tosser of course.”

“Are you looking at Twitter for pictures of your boyfriend? The one you saw this yesterday? The one you’ve been complaining about for an hour?”

“No. That would be stupid and clingy,” Merlin says as he holds his arm above his head to stop Gwen from seeing a devilishly handsome photo of Arthur in a tuxedo on his screen. “Get off, I’ll never admit a thing.”

Gwen backs away from him in a huff and takes back the bottle. “Why aren’t you at this whale penguin sad children gala?”

“We’re not really ‘official’ in the eyes of the royal household or something,” Merlin says looking back at his phone.

“Are you okay with that?” she asks with concern. “Do you want to date someone in the international closet?”

“Nah, it’s not like that. Tabloid are publishing things about us every other day, and there isn’t, like, MI6, after us. ‘Official’ official to nobles is more about stuffy posh events than coffee at the Union.” Merlin thinks for a second and added, “Plus our gay blasphemy headlines take away some of the heat from Princess Eleanor retiring from public life and Prince Kay’s, um, extreme partying.”

“Oh yes, what a scandal! Does Arthur have the inside scoop into why she’s stepping away? She isn’t even next in line!”

“Are you kidding? I swear that man knows less about his own family than half of the commonwealth,” he says fondly, proud of this boyfriend’s gaps of knowledge and general disinterest in his own celebrity. “Even if he did, it’s not something we talk about.”

Merlin goes back to Twitter and refreshes his feed in search of new photos of Arthur. Gwen puts down the wine bottle and stares at her friend thoughtfully. Merlin is too busy looking at pictures of Arthur being kind to a child to notice.

“Wow. I knew you liked him, but I didn’t know you were that crazy about him.”

“Hm?” Merlin says finally looking up from his phone. “Oh gross. Don’t say that. It’s casual. Totally casual. We’ve only been seeing each other for a couple of months. Arthurs’s a prince or something for crying out loud. And a prat. Did you know he sometimes watches footie on his phone during our movie dates? I’m also, like, 80% sure he owns a castle. His entire life is ridiculous.”

“Merlin, it’s okay to like the person you’re dating.” Gwen reaches for his hands and very seriously says, “and don’t try to deny it. I saw you last week sobbing over those lemon squares he baked for you.”

Merlin doesn’t know how to respond to that. It is completely unfair. Arthur had made those lemon squares from his mother’s recipe. He set time aside every other week to put on a silly frilly apron, open the recipe book she wrote years ago for her family, and bake the most delicious desserts in an effort to get closer to a woman he never got to know.

How is Merlin supposed act normal about that? It is beautiful and so sad that it makes him want to curl around Arthur to protect him forever.

Merlin likes his boyfriend. The end of the world didn’t happen, which was a promising sign. “You make interesting points. Watching me cry while eating was rude, but I’ll let it slide if you never, ever mention it to him.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gwen says taking back the bottle. “Let’s wash our hands of the entire situation. Arthur who?”

“Oh, that reminds me, I have some expensive soap to give to you that he bought as a Christmas present.”

“I changed my mind. Arthur Pendragon is my best friend.”

-------

Merlin regrets not talking to Arthur about his feelings sooner. He thinks about where he went wrong in life as he sets aside his exam notes and drinks his cooling tea.

Hypothetically, they could have been having sex for months if they didn’t waste so much time arguing in class, and hypothetically, they could have been a couple for months if they spoke to each other after they had sex. In the present, hypothetically, Merlin wouldn’t be in this situation if he just told his boyfriend that he enjoyed spending time with him.

Summer break is beginning in a week, and Arthur is planning on going on a lavish, posh Italian vacation and maybe leaving Merlin in the dust.

Merlin is no longer dumb enough to think that after eight months since their first date their relationship would qualify as ‘casual’ (based off much work from Gwen), but going on a two month international extravaganza seems like new territory. He had been on trips as an Official Couple before, but driving to Scotland for a week to visit his secondary school boyfriend Tim’s grandparents did not compare.

“Already given up on finals, babe?” Arthur asks as he approaches, pushing the notes further aside and taking a sip of Merlin’s tea.

“My brain is melting. Calculus is going to kill me. Do primary school teachers need to know what an integral is? Will I truly need this in the future? Do children even know what numbers are?”

“Probably not. But that is why they have you to teach them,” Arthur says as he slides in the seat next to Merlin and throws his arm around him. With his other hand, he caresses Merlin’s cheek and says with mocking pity, “You poor studious soul.”

Merlin groans. “I should’ve just taken the easy way out like you and studied business.”

This isn’t entirely fair on Merlin’s part. Arthur is studying business and will enter the corporate sector, but he has plans to change the world. Any power he holds, knowledge he acquires, and influence he wields will go towards making companies more environmentally friendly. He pleases his father with his econ classes, so he can attend his environmental studies courses.

Uther is not, however, pleased with Arthur’s ability of getting published across tabloids with Merlin in order to leak some line about supporting carbon taxes while waxing about his gay scandals.

Merlin briefly leans into Arthur’s touch and then slaps his hand away. His irrational confusion and anger about the summer came back to him.

“Love, I don’t think the exam will go that badly,” the blond says taking another sip of Merlin’s tea.

Merlin plays it off and decides to stop beating around the bush. He wants to clear the air and be direct.

“Yes. Of course. I just have the summer on my mind, hmm? I think I’m going to have a nice break away from it all, yeah? It all. Are you excited for the summer, so you can leave it all behind, hmm?”

“I’m dying to get out of here and go to Italy,” Arthur says with a smile. “I just want to let go and forget about this nightmare term.”

“So, you’re looking forward to a change, hmm?”

“Sure. I mean all of it will be amazing. The sights, the yacht trips, the boys. It should be a good trip. Did you know Gwaine and Leon are coming? Gwaine is obviously insufferable but always knows how to throw a good party.”

“Oh, so you’re looking to have a good party. With lots of fun people. I see.”

Arthur gets lost in his future and doesn’t notice his boyfriend’s suspicious and catty tone.

“Of course. The villa is huge, and it’s only fun if it’s full.”

“I hope you have a good, fun time then,” Merlin says definitively. He opens his exam notes and tries to read the words on the page in front of him. Arthur gives him a bewildered look and then shoves the papers off the table.

“Merlin, you absolute idiot,” says Arthur. “You do know that you’re coming along too, right? This is the trip we’ve been planning for weeks.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Merlin says with as much pride as he can muster. “I’ve only heard about your upcoming plans. I’m going home to see my mother. Maybe get a summer job.”

Arthur stares at his boyfriend, mouth agape. “Instead of flying to beautiful Italy, you want to go back to Wales to sell groceries?”

“I never said it was what I wanted,” Merlin says trying to find his footing. He can see that this has the potential to become a fight. Arthur is very good at calmly presenting his point of view and was always winning their minor disagreements. Merlin had been preparing to be rational for weeks, so he could finally put a point on his winning column. “I just don’t want to disturb you and your friends or your plan for a nice summer.”

Arthur gets a pure look of shot on his face. He opens his mouth and closes it after a second. Conversations from the past month bounce around his brain. Weeks of miscues and improper use of first-person pronouns flash before his eyes.

“Merlin, you’re always part of my plans.” Arthur kneels before him and tries to keep sympathy in his voice. “You are insane and childish and think much too little of yourself, but you’re always part of my plans, dear. I cannot imagine not having you there. If you don’t want to go, I can start sending applications to Welsh fast food joints right now because we’re spending the summer together.”

Merlin feels many things at once: embarrassment, clarity, anger, relief. But mostly, he feels love.

In the scenario he planned in his head, he lays down the facts to defend himself. Merlin recalls every conversation about the Italy trip to show that he is not crazy. He can finally walk away with a victory.

But the pettiness he’s built up is not strong enough compared the love he feels for Arthur in this moment (and the confirmed promise of a lavish trip).

“You’re right. I’m wrong and completely misunderstood,” Merlin says trying to not sound as sappy as he feels and looking the love of his life in the eyes.

Arthur pops back onto his chair. He’s satisfied with Merlin’s change of heart and doesn’t truly understand the mental gymnastics his boyfriend has gone through to get there.

“Can I record you saying that? Keep it with me forever? Use it as a ringtone?” Arthur puts his arm back on Merlin’s shoulder and takes another sip of tea.

“Only if you agree to let me drive the yacht at least once.”

“No way. I don’t plan on dying on this trip.”

Merlin leans into Arthur’s touch and smiles.

----

“I think I’m going to kill you.”

“Merlin, don’t be so dramatic.”

“Dramatic? You think I’m being dramatic?” Merlin says as he aggressively takes off his coat and storms into their kitchen. “You invited your father to our fucking one-year anniversary vacation! Who, need I remind you, I haven’t met before! The man who is a stern traditionalist and also a fucking Prince of Yonkers or some shit!”

It was supposed to be a romantic getaway full of sex and stupidity, but it quickly turned into stiff introductions and formal dinners. Everything about it made Merlin’s skin crawl, and he believes he would be justified in flipping their table.

He settles for slamming his bags on the floor and giving Arthur his coldest stare. Arthur softly begins putting their coats away and doesn’t meet his angry boyfriend’s eyes.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself or are you just going to pretend that nothing insane and cruel just happened?”

“Obviously I didn’t think he was going to be there. He usually never goes to the estate in October.” Arthur puts his head in his hands in an attempt to slow down the oncoming headache.

“It doesn’t matter if it was planned or not. Uther Pendragon walked in on us making out on his antique couch! I am never going anywhere with you again!”

The blame is not on Uther for that one. Arthur and Merlin arrived in at the house late on Friday after a long car ride. They were tired and horny, and something about the pristine cold foyer made Merlin want to make a mess. The ancient large portraits in the sitting area walls were judging him for his audacity to exist in their future, so it only seemed fair to give them a show.

Having your son on top of a man you have never met, in the process of getting undressed, seems unlikely to be ideal situation when walking into your priceless ancestral home, and Merlin does give credit to Uther for not reacting physically.

Merlin was, however, upset when Uther forcibly suggested an impromptu family dinner and showed him to his cold room in the guest wing. The entire affair was polite and stiff. Arthur’s attempts to facilitate conversation between his boyfriend and his father resulted in one-word responses and dull small talk about the weather and football.

The plan to shag on every available surface that weekend turned into pretentious quiet time, and by the end of it, Merlin was ready to commit murder.

Back in their flat, Merlin turns and stomps into their bedroom. He looks around, having nothing in mind to do except get away from the git.

“Curse you and your bloodline! I should have known a vacation to a fucking castle was a trap! Is that what it’s like being a part of your stupid family?”

Arthur doesn’t look up from his hands and says, “I’m sorry, okay? If it helps, my father liked you.”

Merlin pops his head out from their room and gives him a curious glance. The anger seeps out of him and is replaced with confusion.

“What makes you say that?” Quietly pretending to read in each other’s presences for two days wasn’t a great way to get to know each other.

“He told me it plainly,” Arthur says as he steps in the kitchen and looks for a snack. “It was on Sunday, when you hid in the bathroom to call Morgana for advice.”

Merlin thinks and tries to remember he accidentally told some lies in an effort to get Uther on his side.

“You shouldn’t do that you know. She has never gotten on with our father and will take the opportunity to mess with him.”

“I figured that out when she told me the way to his heart was musicals.” Merlin’s first meeting with Morgana was much more fun than Uther’s. It resulted in an exchange of phone numbers, a paranoid Arthur, and a lifetime ban from the best coffeeshop on campus. “And I don’t believe you. I mean what did he say about me? Unless he said nothing, and you’re just trying to make me feel better. But what did he like about me?”

“He didn’t say much. Just that you were respectable and that he was glad I would never have to go through what Kay is going through now with his girlfriend.” Arthur shrugs and nibbles on a leftover cookie he baked as back-to-school gifts for his friends.

“I guess it’s sweet that your father doesn’t think I’ll enable your cocaine habit, sucker punch a paparazzi, and dump you every other month via Twitter. Cheers to embarrassing public comparisons,” Merlin says sitting down on their kitchen chair, trying to make sense of it all.

“You know how family is. Cousin Kay lowering expectations, Cousin Tristan raising them, Cousin Eleanor and Morgana seen sharing a joint in Grenada. There’s a reason people buy t-shirts with us on them.” Arthur says nonchalantly, but Merlin can see the weight of responsibility in his stance. He’s a small part of system that can do so much, but in the past few years, he’s felt helpless. Arthur doesn’t want to squander the royal opportunity of responsibility like Kay or Eleanor, nor does he want to uphold stiff tradition like Tristan. He just wants to do good for his country, and it bothers him that his power comes from something beyond his control.

“Now that I know your dad doesn’t hate me, I am no longer planning your murder.”

Arthur smiles weakly.

Merlin cannot fix his boyfriend’s family or country, but he can make it a bit easier for him. He’ll go to the next family brunch and politely talk about the weather with Uther. He’ll plot with Morgana to change Arthur’s ringtone to some annoying showtune. If he ever meets King Fredrick, he’ll even give him a respectful bow. It matters that he doesn’t cause any more grief for the Pendragons. For Arthur.

“I’m sorry for overacting about your family. If I plan being a part of it, I have to be more open-minded.”

“Merlin, don’t say that.” Arthur says with a grin. “If you ever want to fit in with us, you should know that we never to apologize.”

 ------

“….”

“Hello, father. How are you?”

“….”

“No, I’m free to chat for a moment. I was just, ah, studying extremely hard on this Friday night.”

“….”

“Sorry, the noise is coming from, um, a television show Merlin is watching. Let me just step out- turn it off, so you can hear me better.”

“….”

“He’s doing well. We both are. Merlin is up for a job in London this summer, so we’re planning on staying at the flat in the city for a couple of weeks.”

“….”

“Yes”

“….”

“Good for her.”

“….”

“Yes.”

“….”

“Fascinating.”

“….”

“Sorry, father. As much as I love hearing about Aunt Linda and her small dogs, is there a reason you called? There are people waiting for us.”

“….”

“Um, Merlin and mine’s study group. He’s listening in on this call.”

“….”

“I believe I’m available that weekend. Easter is in two weeks, correct?”

“….”

“Merlin is invited too? That’s ridiculous. Uncle Fredrick never invites unmarried couples to official events. Even Tristan’s long-time bird hasn’t gone to as much as a dinner, and she’s going to be Queen someday.”

“….”

“I’m sorry if I don’t believe that, father. I don’t think we’re that special or important. No offense, Merlin.”

“….”

“What does the public opinion have to do with Easter brunch and Merlin?”

“….”

“Tristan said what about Sir Elton John and his husband? That’s repulsive!”

“….”

“That does make sense, but-”

“….”

“The situation seems more complicated than-”

“….”

“Yes, but-”

“….”

“Look, I get it, okay? But I don’t think our presence at the Palace, getting pictures with the Easter bunny, will automatically ‘build a more flourishing relationship between the Royal Household and the homosexual community’.”

“….”

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that? I couldn’t hear you over Merlin laughing.”

“….”

“We have to go back to the party now.”

“….”

“Goodbye, father.”

“….”

“We’ll see you in two weeks.”

----

On a quiet afternoon in December, Merlin yawns against Arthur and scrolls mindless through his Twitter feed while his human pillow reads a book about the Ottoman Empire.

Merlin tries to force himself to relax as much as possible and carelessly throws his legs over Arthur’s lap. He presses himself into the blond, inhaling the scent of his expensive cologne and trying to steal his body heat.

The past three months were physically and emotionally draining, and the couple needed a break to catch their breaths. Doing nothing was becoming an important and infrequent necessity, and the lazy Sunday is extremely welcome.

Since their two-year anniversary, Merlin and Arthur had gone to two promotional royal events, two weddings, and a funeral.

As Arthur’s popularity grows, he tries to make more appearances for charities and official outings. The press and professional world couldn’t ask Eleanor because of her withdrawal from society, learned not to rely on Kay because of his chaotic antics, and didn’t want to invite Tristan because he was a stiff bore. The public turned to the cool gay cousin for their idol.

Of course, the past three weeks had no official events out of respect for the grieving royal family. Kay’s overdose triggered a period of mourning for the entire country.

He was a divisive figure whose misfortune was always presented to the entire world by bloodthirsty press and was gossiped about by anyone with ears. Kay’s downward spiral was not a surprise to any, and the world carries guilt on their shoulders as much as grief.

Arthur never viewed Kay as entertainment or treated him as less than family, but that didn’t make it any easier for him, Merlin thinks. He had been unusually quiet since the funeral and more likely to get lost in thought. Merlin can see the words forming in his head of a speech he wants to give to reassure the public and honor his cousin, a speech that will never see the light of day because he cannot overstep his role.

The month before the funeral was great for Arthur Speeches.

He gave a beautiful toast at Lance and Gwen’s autumn wedding and a rousing lecture at a climate talk. Arthur was professional and personable, and Merlin wants to bottle up every word he says and keep them forever. (Of course, Merlin contributed here and there to the speeches, and part of the appeal was personal pride.)

The passion and seriousness of the speeches also signaled the crest of adulthood the couple was facing. Their graduation was only six months away. Their careers were taking off. Their best friends were married. Death was on the table.

In Merlin’s head, a relaxing Sunday afternoon turns into a panic about the mortality and what comes next.

“Do you ever think about our future?” Merlin asks putting his phone down.

“Hm? I guess I do,” Arthur says as he sets his book on the side table. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, um. Just thinking about how Adult we’ve been the past couple of months.” Merlin looks at their intertwined fingers. “Maybe we should talk about, like, our plans or something.”

“And what are your grand plans?” he teases.

“They’re not grand or anything. Just ideas and whatnot.” Merlin pauses to organize his thoughts. “I can be a teacher anywhere, so I’ll probably just follow you wherever you go. Unless you want to move into that cold mansion with Uther. Then I’m planning on moving to Australia.”

“As tempting as living with my father is, that isn’t part of my plan,” Arthur chuckles.

“That’s good. I couldn’t imagine living with an in-law, especially one who could have me killed by security guards.” Merlin looks at Arthur hopefully and nervously bites his lip. “Because we would be related by law, correct? Like through you? Because we would be legally married? Ergo, he would be my father-in-law?”

It isn’t something they talked about. They are young, still in school, and in general, pretty stupid, but Lance proposing to Gwen set minor bells off in Merlin’s head. Merlin and Arthur aren’t as romantically sickening as their friends and insult each other too often to be functional, but Merlin could lay here on Arthur forever. He wants to stay in his boyfriend’s arms forever. Marry him forever. It is a massive, scary thought to have.

“I don’t think I’ve asked you that yet.” Arthur smiles. “But yes, I plan to be in a very formal legal arrangement with you.”

Merlin smiles back. An important conversation checked off the list. Commitment is in the bag.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he happily replies. “I think those are all of my plans. Do you have any?”

“Yes, I have several,” Arthur says without hesitation. “Marriage is an important first step, but that isn’t going to happen until an appropriate time after graduation.”

“What?”

“Well, I want to have us get settled into our careers before we exchange rings. I don’t want to imagine what sort of headlines we’ll get if you’re unemployed for our engagement announcement.”

Merlin nods slowly because he doesn’t know what to say.

“As for careers, I’ve been eyeing this environmentally focused nonprofit in Bristol that I think will be perfect for me, at least to get experience. There is also a nice little primary school in the neighborhood that you could apply to.”

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t worry. If you don’t like it, there are still plenty of options nearby you can look at,” Arthur answers seriously, missing Merlin’s shocked tone. “But that is where I want to send our children. They have excellent test scores and opportunities for those wanting to get into a secondary school that lead to good universities.”

“Good universities? For our children??”

“Look, I don’t enjoy using my pedigree to have an advantage over the common folk, but I’m not going to send our children to a bad university,” Arthur says as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. He’s on a completely nutter train of thought, and Merlin doesn’t want to stop him.

“Anyway, it’s not forever. I imagine I would get bored of the rat race of nonprofits and corporate work after, I say, about twenty years, so then we’ll move out to the countryside.”

At this point, Merlin wants to humor him. It’s starting to get interesting.

“Okay, where do we go then?”

“I’m thinking the southern coast. Maybe Wales to be closer to Hunith,” Arthur says with no humor but with a sincerity that could make an ice block melt. “I know I said I’m against living with in-laws, but I have a feeling our children will want to visit grandma more than grandpa.

“In our small town, I hope to open a small pastry shop with my inheritance and spend the rest of our days gardening or helping small children or whatever.”

“You have to be joking right now. You already have a plan for your midlife crisis?”

“I’m dead serious. I think Royal Buns would be a great success.”

“Royal. Buns.”

Arthur grins and raises his eyebrow as a challenge. “The plan has some flexibility. You can either continue teaching or be the cute cashier while I bake in the back room.”

Merlin opens his mouth and then closes it. He tries to think of words to say, but his brain is broken. He just wanted to see if he could compare his relationship to Gwen’s, and suddenly he’s retiring in Wales.

“You’re insane. This is insane. We’ve been dating for two years, and you have the next century mapped out,” Merlin says trying to put bite into his words. He’s mad and confused, but there’s a small burst of hope and anticipation he’s never felt before.

Arthur shrugs, unfazed by his boyfriends upcoming freak-out. “With all the traveling and events, we’ve been going to in the past two months, I’ve had time to think about things. It’s become very clear to me recently that, through everything you do, you need to have something to live for.

“When I said you were always part of my plans, I meant it. We can quibble about the details later, where we live, what we do, what the name of our bakery will be, but I want you to know that my future is with you.”

He cups Merlin’s face in his hands and presses a soft kiss to the lone tear from his cheek.

“I still think you’re crazy, but I must be too because that future sounds lovely,” Merlin says with his heart full. He nestles further into Arthur and sighs. “So how many children are we going to have, what are their names?”

“I was thinking three: two boys named James and George and a girl named Anne.”

“Ugh, royal names are so dull. We should go for something fun, like Alator. Or Kilgharrah!”

“You’re lucky it’s too late for me to take you out of this plan.”

-------

Merlin takes a sip of his pint and tries to melt into his seat.

Arthur is absolutely sloshed and trying to arm wrestle Gwaine while their friends cheer them on. He already beat Leon and Lance and will not stop until he is the ‘strongest knight in all the land’ with the ‘honor to take home his fair maiden’. It isn’t terribly difficult to understand why Merlin is embarrassed.

Morgana surprised them on their doorstep the day before and demanded sibling bonding time. The only logical way to handle an insane sibling was to gather the boys and get pissed, course work be damned.

Arthur loves his sister, he really does, but it was impossible to predict what she did. Morgana has a focused destruction about her that most people feared. Getting into yelling matches with Uther and publicly supporting an anti-monarchy Eleanor couldn’t be said without mentioning her dedication to female mentorship and genuine love for her people.

So, a ragtag group of nobility and poor university students went to the only pub in town that still allowed them.

Percival already hit his limit and is snoring on the table while Mithian and Elyan whisper over him. Morgana promised Gwaine a blowjob if he could beat Arthur and leans over him in a low-cut blouse in an attempt to distract him. Lance and Gwen try to convince Leon to stop raising his bets into the hundreds against their broke classmates. It’s all chaos and the most fun Merlin has had in months.

After a struggle, Arthur bests Gwaine and immediately pounds back the rest of his pint. Cheers break out around him, and he eggs on his loudest supporters. Gwaine looks for comfort from Morgana who gives him nothing more than superficial pity, Leon hands over a couple of large bills to his overjoyed opponents, and Percy sleeps through it all.

“My fair Merlin! I have won a tournament of strength for you!” Arthur declares as he swaggers over to his boyfriend’s seat.

“My knight in shining armor,” Merlin says with affection and humor.

Arthur grins back and tries to plant a kiss on his cheek. He misses completely and hiccups loudly in Merlin’s ear. The energy seeps out of him as he settles into Merlin.

With their leader out of commission, the group winds down, and couples begin to leave. Lance and Gwen head out first along with a sneaky Mithian and Elyan. Leon is unfortunately stuck take Gwaine and Percy back to their hotel.

“Perhaps it’s time to take my brother home,” Morgana says as she saunters over.

Merlin nods and tries to wake up Arthur.

“I don’t think the fair maiden is supposed to drag the knight out of the tavern,” he says as the trio stumbles out the door together.

“Ah yes, but a prince is fair game,” Morgana says and takes a drag of her cigarette. She looks too put together for someone who outdrank Percival. She definitely has some sort of magic.

They walk quietly back to their flat. The April air is surprisingly chilly, and body heat radiating from Arthur makes up for his dead weight as Merlin drags him along.

“It’s a pity you’re so well-adjusted,” Morgana says casually with no love or spite.

“Excuse me?” Arthur is basically unconscious at this point, but Merlin doesn’t want to be the recipient of whatever Morgana is throwing.

“It’s just my big brother would have been so much more fun to go clubbing with if he hit that classic nobility teenage crisis.” She takes another drag and gives a thoughtful look to a struggling Merlin. “I mean, he had a fun couple of years before he met you, but father wouldn’t let little precious me party with him then. You come along and domestic him before I’m old enough to start sneaking into bars.”

“Um. You’re welcome for being boring I guess,” Merlin stammers out. He’s older and physically bigger than Morgana, but he’s never been more frightened in his life.

“No, it’s not that,” she says opening their front door and ushering them in like they were her pets. “If you were boring, Tristan would have gobbled you up and made Arthur his even more dull minion. The need to please dear old daddy and uncle would have been too tempting.”

Morgana helps Merlin put Arthur into bed and strolls out of their room. Before she gets to the door, she looks back and says, “There’s something about you, Merlin,” before heading to the couch in the living room they made up for her.

Merlin is too tired and a little tipsy to know what to make of that. What to make of his maybe future sister-in-law. He just stares down at a drooling Arthur and starts to take off his shoes.

“Sh-Merlin?” Arthur slurs, trying to sit up.

“Hush, love,” Merlin says going to their bathroom to get him a glass of water. “Go to sleep. You’ll feel worse in the morning, but at least it will be reality.”

Arthur accepts this and nods cutely.

“I just want to say thank you,” he says slowly, trying not to slur his words.

“For what?” Merlin whispers as he settles into bed next to him.

“Thanks for not taking a picture of my junk and selling it to the Sun.” He thinks for a second, “and for being my fair maiden.” With that Arthur smiles and drifts off to sleep.

Merlin stares at him for a bit and says, “You’re welcome, my brave knight,” then joins him in slumber.

-------

Merlin and Arthur are in Uganda when they get the news.

They both graduated a month before and were taking things slow. Merlin still has some classes to take to get his teaching license, and Arthur is bidding time before he gets serious about his career.

Arthur adjusted his elaborate 50-year plan after realizing the amount of clout the couple had. His family’s heritage and gay existence were enough to get people talking. There was a small but loud group of people on the internet who follows them and likes to invent homophobic strawmen to defend them which just creates more followers.

Of course, Arthur decided only to use this power for good. He was popular enough to ask the royal household for support on an official charity to developing countries to help raise funds for better infrastructure. It was something he always wanted to do, and having the social power to be able to help was an amazing feeling.

Inviting Merlin along for the two-week tour was a more selfish choice. Merlin spends most of his time meeting school children to gain teaching experience, but being able to see him everyday is what keeps the royal going.

They are winding down for the day in their hut when Arthur’s bodyguard Owain barges in which someone screaming on the phone. The burly man’s shocked expression makes Arthur stand up from his desk and Merlin fear for the worst. He doesn’t know Owain very well but could tell by his demeanor something awful had occurred.

“Your Grace, you and Merlin need to come with me right now,” Owain demands as he makes a move to grab the blond’s arm. “An airplane is coming soon to take you back to England.”

Arthur shakes off his bodyguard’s grip and firmly says, “No. Not unless you tell us right now what the devil is going on.”

Owain gulps, and Merlin sees more than shock in his eyes. He sees fear.

“There’s been an accident. The King and Prince of Wales. Their plane to Australia had a problem. You need to come with me right now.”

Merlin has a million questions flying through his head but the only thing he can do is look at Arthur. Whatever happens next may affect the entire world, but for him, it will always be personal.

Arthur doesn’t return Merlin’s look but takes the phone from Owain and heads of the hut. Merlin follows.

-----

Four months later, Merlin is still following Arthur. For the first couple of days, all he did was follow Arthur, too dumbstruck to do anything but listen to very important people tell him terrible things. His initial goal was to be emotionally available to the Prince whenever he could, but Arthur ended up spending more time consoling Merlin about their changing life.

The shock and grief about the plane crash filled the world, and uncertainty loomed from all directions. Kay’s death was awful, but the public had years to see the wheels turning. Tristan was supposed to be the steady sibling. The one who would lead a steady nation. Through all the drama and anarchy, he was reliable and true.

An unstable future created fear among the public. Most people knew Prince Uther during his young adult years. The serious younger sibling did not get along with the press, his parents, or anyone really. They saw him as jealous and petty, and his short attitude never dissuaded them from this assumption.

This changed when Uther met Ygraine.

A beautiful daughter of a minor lord, Ygraine made the people believe in grace and dignity. Her romance with the Prince Uther was based on devotion and respect, and it made him all the more likeable.

It was unfortunate he lost all that good will after his wife died. The cold jealous younger brother returned, and everyone was happy they could forget him and obsess over his niece and nephews’ dramatic lives as heirs. It was more unfortunate everyone had to turn back to Uther.

However, the small but loyal group that supported Arthur was growing and becoming more vocal. The universal grief was becoming oppressive, and the handsome new Prince of Wales is the country’s only bright spot.

Arthur’s glowing history, empathetic response, and inspiring speeches seemed like signs of a good leader, and he is becoming more than the ‘noble gay cousin’. Any newspaper or tabloid that features him sells out quickly. Merlin jokes it’s because people like his pretty face, but it’s something deeper, something bigger.

So, with Arthur’s new fame came Merlin’s new headache. People were also interested in him, and suddenly stranger’s expectations became something he had to worry about.

Sarah, his new liaison from the royal household, constantly has to speak to Merlin about everything wrong he did. Shortly after their return from Africa, Merlin could understand the short bureaucrat’s uptight and strict nature. Her job just got extremely more difficult and was mourning her bosses. But after being scolded by her for weeks, Merlin realized she was just a mean person. Sarah wants what is best for the monarchy and would not let a Welsh peasant ruin it for them.

Sarah was the one who suggested he visit Annis in Paris. Denying her isn’t possible, so off Merlin went to France to visit the former Queen Consort of England.

As Merlin approaches her flat, he takes in the upper crust neighborhood and occasional stare from tourists. Annis is known for her eccentricities and lavish lifestyle, and her building matches her reputation. The doorman is expecting him, and he’s about to meet the only person in the world who can understand him.

“Hello, darling. You are right on time,” a charming middle-aged woman says as she opens the door. “Please come in. Make yourself at home.” She takes them further into her kitchen and offers Merlin a drink. Annis is elegant and warm, and her classy décor matches the vibe she’s giving him so far.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

“Of course. When that snippy assistant girl called, I could tell you needed my help,” she says as she pours herself more water.

“First, I just want to say that I’m sorry for your loss,” Merlin says sympathetically. Losing two of your children and an ex-husband in less than a year was unimaginable.

“Thank you.”

She looks far off and doesn’t say anything else. Merlin is not the person she wants to share her grief with, so he simply followers her lead into her sitting room.

“Are you working with Diane? She was my main public relations connection and always had something to say,” Annis says slyly.

“No, I’m working with a new girl, Sarah. She’s frustrated with my ‘apparent attack on the traditions of the greatest monarchy in the world’ because I tweeted something about the latest episode of Bake Off.”

Annis laughs at that. “I see they have not changed in past 10 years. I once got in trouble for supposedly staring at a camera for too long during a press event.” She takes a sip of water. “To be fair, at the time I was sleeping with the camera man.” Merlin doesn’t think it’s actually water in her glass and laughs along with her.

“I mean no offense, but you’re not like I thought you would be.”

“Oh, the ice queen who could freeze a nation? Yes, the press does like to paint a picture when a woman divorces from a powerful family. An exit plan is something you have to consider with my dear nephew Arthur.”

“What?”

“Isn’t that why you’re here? To get advice on how to marry into the royal family? The number one rule is to always have an exit plan.”

“I don’t have one of those. I’m not married to Arthur, nor do I have any plans to break up with him,” Merlin says defensively.

“Sorry, I saw something in a newspaper about your engagement.” Annis sets her glass on the table in front of her and looks at him seriously. “But I am not joking about the exit plan. I did not have one, and it’s my greatest regret.”

Merlin stares hard at her glass and doesn’t meet her eyes.

“I loved my husband. I loved him when he was my first boyfriend, when he was the father of my children, and when he was the King of England. But life changed, and we hurt each other. I couldn’t stay any longer because I didn’t know how to handle myself. I can teach you how to handle yourself.”

“I appreciate it, I really do,” Merlin says as he looks up and into her eyes. “But Arthur isn’t going to hurt me. I couldn’t hurt him. We have a great relationship, truly. I’m here looking for advice on how to be supportive, not how to run away.”

Annis tightens her lips and nods slightly. She isn’t happy, but she’s not the kind of woman who will argue. The displeasure on her face disappears in a flash, and she quickly puts on a painted-on smile.

“Yes, you’re right. I’ve overstepped my role.” Annis takes another sip of her drink.

Merlin feels horrible. He came to this poor woman for advice, and when she gave it, he rejected it rudely.

“No, I’m sorry. That was rude. I want your advice.” Merlin reaches his hand across the table. “Please tell me if there are any secret passages in Buckingham Palace. If I were to get out, I want to do it right.”

Annis laughs and lightly takes his hand. “Well Merlin, there’s this old bookcase in the smaller study-”

----

Merlin holds his phone to his ear and tries to think of something to say. He’s staring at the empty box of biscuits his boyfriend baked for him and feels a strange sense of guilt.

Merlin and Arthur have talked with each other every day for the past two weeks, but the conversation was stilted. Their chats were usually filled with Arthur’s upcoming speeches and how to improve them, but that kind of professional talk was wearing thin. It was challenging to decide where to pick up.

Even before the prince’s diplomatic venture, the couple didn’t have the same kind of life they had when they were students. They were passive-aggressively advised to get separate flats in London and frequently had to meet up in hipster coffee shops to avoid public eyes. Not being able to go home after a long day and dramatically flop against his boyfriend for validation and kisses is hard for Merlin.

But Merlin’s displeasure is minor compared to the satisfaction Arthur gets for finally being able to lead. There’s a new enthusiasm in his tone whenever he talks about a new policy he’s supporting or person he’s convinced to join his team.

Plus, sneaking around is fun. Dates have a silly edge to them the couple hasn’t experienced in years.

“Did you see that speech your father made for that animal charity?”

“By God, how could I not? I swear anyone with a decent internet connection saw that,” Arthur says with a scoff. “If that man let me own a dog growing up like any other family, he wouldn’t have been barked at and bitten on the shoulder during a live television broadcast.”

“I didn’t know you could hold a dachshund like that. That poor creature didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Poor creature? Poor my father. He just gave ammunition to Morgana for years to come. She’s already made it her lock screen.”

“Well, I don’t feel too bad for him. That man gave me a gift card for a three-month gym membership this Christmas,” Merlin says as he shifts his phone to his other ear.

Arthur laughs loudly at that and has a rekindled interest in the conversation. Merlin smiles.

The prince pauses and asks, “How are you, Merlin? I feel like I haven’t asked you that in ages. Tell me everything.”

“I’m good. Nothing too out of the ordinary.” Merlin thinks for a second. “Classes are good, I’m on track to be able to teach next fall. Um, my mother has an excellent garden planned for this spring. A woman yelled at me the other day and demanded I stop trying to murder the monarchy or something. Gaius is being pushy my thesis of course, again.”

“What? That’s horrific. Why is this the first I’m hearing of this?”

“Gaius’ Eyebrow of Judgement isn’t that bad.”

“Merlin.”

“I know.”

Merlin bites his lip and has to think about his next words.

“It wasn’t a big deal. She yelled at me for a bit and went on her way. I did not say a word to her or spare her a second glance.”

“Merlin. This is a big deal. You shouldn’t have to deal with anything like that. The public shouldn’t ever approach you.

“Oh, does that mean I should stop taking, um, ‘selfies’ with teenage girls on the street?”

“What? Yes! Do not engage with strangers! They could be dangerous!”

“I don’t see a problem. They’re usually around 13 years old and always seem super nice.”

“I grew up with Morgana. I know for a fact 13-year-old girls are the scariest thing on this Earth. Clarence House should have given you security when I asked for it.”

Merlin sighs. They argued about this for weeks with Arthur focusing all of his energy trying get a guard to follow him. Having all of Arthur’s attention was a dangerous thing, but when the royal household declined, Merlin won the feud and got to keep is privacy. Bringing up the woman on the phone was a bad idea.

“You’re taking this too seriously. It’s silly to waste taxpayer money to have a beefy guy beat down a single crazy woman to protect a random private citizen.”

“Which is why I’ve been saying we need to make our relationship more official.”

Arthur can’t see the frown on Merlin’s face.

“I not trying to be rude, but I don’t want that. I like where I am now. I’m extremely happy not to be in the closet or your dirty secret, but I don’t want our business published in anything with a lick of credibility, inviting the world to know us.” Merlin tries to put as much sympathy in his voice as possible. “Between two hells, I’m enjoying this purgatory of gossip and the occasional stranger interaction.”

“I just worry. I want you to be safe. I need you to be safe, okay?”

There’s nothing in this world Merlin wants more than for Arthur to hug him right now. But he’s in Portugal, a thousand miles away.

“Why don’t you take a quick private jet back to England and make sure of it, eh?”

“Private jet? Those are terrible for the environment. You weren’t even listening to my speech. Let’s go over it again.”

------

Arthur is at a fancy dinner celebrating the arrival of Swedish royalty when he gets a call from Gwen.

The Prince politely excuses himself from the table and ignores the glare from his father. Gwen is not someone who usually calls for frivolous small talk, and more importantly, Merlin mentioned getting drinks with her tonight.

“You make is sound like I would want to go to a posh event where I have to learn more boring nobility and their boring traditions. No offense,” Merlin said after Arthur broke the news about his lack of invitation. “I’m catching up with Gwen and Lance that night anyway. They’re much more fun than Prince I Don’t Know How to Wipe My Own Arse and King Let’s Ban Joy Inside Buckingham.”

“I thought we agreed you’d stop calling my father that,” Arthur replied. He put that conversation out of his mind until he presses ‘Receive Call’.

“Don’t freak out,” Gwen begins. She’s using her classic Mother Tone, but Arthur can hear a hint of panic.

“What is going on?” Arthur hisses out. “Why are you calling? Is everything okay?” Is Merlin okay?

“I said not to freak out, and I mean that, but we’re currently in an urgent care centre right now.”

Arthur remembers nothing after that until he’s at Merlin’s side, caressing his hair and watching him struggle to open a juice pouch.

Arthur must have called in massive favors to get to the hospital so quickly, and Merlin repays him by scolding him for showing up.

“It wasn’t a big deal. It isn’t a big deal. You should be at that important dinner, not nursing back an idiot who got a couple scrapes and bruises.”

“Merlin, you have a fractured nose and six stitches in your arm. I need you to take this seriously. For my sake.”

Merlin takes a sip of juice and says nothing.

“How did this happen? What nonsense did you pull yourself into this time?”

“When I say this, you have to promise not to get mad.” Merlin’s feeling a little woozy but tries to speak as reasonably as possible. “Gwen, Lance, and I were at dinner, you know, the place you like with the chicken and mean hostess? Anyway, a young woman approached us and asked me for a picture. Don’t make that face, she was very polite, and I turned her down gently, like you asked me to do. Because I am a good boyfriend. Please remember that.”

Arthur rolls his eyes at this but gestures at Merlin to continue.

“I guess she made a big deal out of it or something, and other people heard about me, um being ‘involved’ with you. Which was unfortunate because there were some blokes at the next table who assumed I was rich and kinda, well tried to mug me a little in the alley after we left.”

“What?! Where are they men now?” Arthur pops up from his seat and begins to head to the door. He never considered himself a violent person, but there’s nothing else running through his mind at this moment.”

“Wait! Don’t go! The men are already at a local police station,” Merlin shouts quickly. “Everything’s fine, everything’s taken care of.”

Arthur stops from leaving but doesn’t sit back down. He still has the urge to do something. “What happened next,” he manages to bite out.

“The two guys were clearly drunk and only got two swings in before Lance and a nice bystander stepped in to help. The cops came and picked them up shortly after. So please don’t worry.”

“I am worried! It doesn’t matter that it was short, it still happened. You’re injured because of me!”

“Like I said, I’m fine. The nose will heal up quickly, and I only cut my arm because I fell on something sharp and that kind of thing can happen anywhere.”

“I swear those men will face the harshest punishments imaginable!” Arthur gives Merlin a hard stare. “I should have been there with you. Or more importantly, you should have been with me.”

Merlin feels the sudden urge to cry and has no idea why. He tries to keep the whine out of his voice and says, “Can you please stop yelling and take me home? We can argue more about this when I don’t have a headache.”

Arthur does the hardest thing he’s ever done and drops ideas of vengeance for now. He concentrates on caring for Merlin and thinks long and hard about how to make sure this never happens again.

------

Merlin doesn’t like Clarence House much, and sitting alone in an ancient room on a tiny settee waiting for Arthur to come ‘have an important conversation with him’ does not make it better.

The tone of the invitation was eager and friendly, but no one in a relationship wants to hear that. They haven’t had much time to talk since Merlin was in urgent care three weeks ago, and all ‘important conversations’ ended seven months before that when a faulty plane engine ruined Merlin’s life forever.

Merlin’s aggressive leg jiggling is about to create a hole in a hundred-year-old rug when Arthur barges in and strolls to his desk.

“Hello, dear. Hope you weren’t waiting too long. Can I get you anything to drink?” Arthur speaks as if he’s entertaining a business associate, and Merlin feels the worst of his suspicions creep back.

“No, I’m alright,” Merlin says as he settles into the chair across from him. “I, um, am more curious about why you called me here.”

“Right, a man who wants to get down to business. I respect it.” Arthur acts as if he’s a posh salesman.

Merlin doesn’t want to know what he’s selling but nods along anyway.

“I’ve been thinking lately,” Arthur says leaning forward. He’s acting strangely but God does he look handsome in a vest. “We should get engaged.”

“What?!”

“To get married, obviously. I spent the last couple weeks thinking about it, and it would solve all our problems. You would get security, the United Kingdom’s future would appear more stable, and I would finally be able to sleep at night.”

“You’re insane.”

“I understand. This is a lot to take in. But please, consider all the benefits.”

“Like England being more stable? Not, perhaps, our love for each other?”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Of course love is an important aspect of this.” The You idiot is implied. “I obviously want to spend the rest of my life with you, I just think the timing of an engagement is perfect right now.”

“The timing? We’re not even 24 years old yet, I’m still unemployed. You recently became first inline for the throne, and you want to commit to a very public marriage?”

“God, not this again,” Arthur snaps as he walks over to the window. “Everyone learned we were fucking three and a half years ago. You’re going to need to face that reality sooner or later.”

“Excuse me for not wanting to invite rabid strangers to constantly hunt me down for my secrets or have my future decided by a dozen snooty people in suits,” Merlin shouts, standing to match Arthur’s stance.

The Prince stares at him and with venom in voice asks, “Then why are you here? What do you want from this?” He jesters between them.

Merlin is speechless, mouth agape. He wants to keep doing what they’re doing. He’s mostly happy. He thought they were mostly happy together. Marriage has always been on his mind but so have Annis’ words about the importance of an escape plan.

“You don’t know. Fine.” Arthur huffs and leans against the wall. “But I know I want you. And I want to lead England as its king. But I cannot compartmentalize the two of you anymore. I need to know if you will accept my proposal.”

“I don’t know. I just,” Merlin fights off tears and feels his stomach drop. “I want things to stay the same. I want a future with you and to have you forever but forever seems to be changing and I, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know how to finish his thought.

Even if Merlin talks him out of the proposal, he can’t stop Arthur from looking ahead to a future Merlin has no interest in being in. He was too focused on surviving the present and should have known his boyfriend lives five years in the future. Merlin can never ask the Prince to choose between him and England because he’s always known the answer.

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I promised you an impossible future. I cannot give you decades of private family life or Royal Buns Bakery, but I need to know if want what I’m offering you now.”

Merlin falls back into his chair, hangs his head in his hands, and wonders how the past 10 minutes came to this. It seems nothing in his head can fill this extended silence.

“I never dated you for the fame. I didn’t even think of it,” Merlin says with a sincere defeat. “The adoration, celebrity, riches. I just liked the guy who argued with me in class. When you asked me out for the first time, I didn’t say yes because you were a royal, even a little bit.”

“I know, Merlin. But I wish you did.”

Arthur gives him a final look and tries to smile.