Work Text:
The icy wind clawed at Merlin’s cloak, threatening to send it tumbling through the snow. He was layered up with wool and leather, but it felt like the wind tore straight through his clothes.
Arthur had sent him on a foolish errand to pick up some strawberries for Gwen, and Lancelot had offered to come along to keep him company. But since strawberries weren’t in season, they’d had to travel all the way to Willowdale to get them.
It had started to snow lightly while they picked up the strawberries. Afterwards, they had gone to the tavern for a nice hot meal, and the snow had turned into a full-blown storm.
Merlin stopped walking and put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
“We won’t make it back to the castle without freezing to death,” Lancelot said, his voice muffled by the howling wind.
“Should we turn back and wait out the storm in Willowdale?”
Lancelot shook his head. “We’re too far away now. It would take us the same amount of time to get there as it would to go back to Camelot. We’ve got to seek shelter for the night.”
Merlin looked at the forest covered in snow. Maybe if they could find a cave, he could use his magic to make a fire to keep them warm.
“I know a place not far from here,” Lancelot said. “An abandoned house.”
“How do you know it’s abandoned?” Merlin asked, wary.
“In my travels I discovered many places a wanderer could sleep. This house is hard to find if you don’t know what you’re looking for.”
Sometimes Merlin forgot about the nomadic life Lancelot used to live. They had exchanged letters for years while Merlin updated him on the adventures in Camelot and Lancelot shared about his journeys across the surrounding lands, but Merlin was so used to seeing him as a noble knight now.
“All right, we’ll head there.” He wasn’t sure what to expect, but hopefully the house would be empty so they wouldn’t have to worry about walking straight into danger. Though, he wasn’t sure why he was so worried. Both Merlin and Lancelot were very capable at defending themselves.
The house was tucked away on the side of a hill, grass growing over the top of it and vines obscuring the wooden door. Lancelot unsheathed his sword and cut through the vines so they could enter the house.
It was quaint, cramped and certainly not built for tall people. Merlin and Lancelot had to stoop to fit through the doorway. Merlin hurried over to the fire to light it with a gentle whispered “Bael onbryne.”
The stone fireplace burst to life with a warm blaze. Merlin found some discarded pages that looked like they had been torn from a journal. He fed them to the fire and the flame flared higher.
He used a little magic to dry their clothes and they huddled in front of the fire. The warmth was soothing, but Merlin couldn’t stop shivering.
“Here.” Lancelot draped his red cloak around Merlin and pressed his body against his side.
Merlin’s cheeks felt hot. Lancelot was so close to him, and he smelled wonderful despite their long journey—like vanilla and leather. Like home.
He tried hard not to let his thoughts wander and focused on taking comfort in him and soaking in his warmth.
Once Merlin’s shivering subsided, he lifted his hand towards the fire. “Heorot!” A fiery miniature stag burst forth from the flames, trailing sparks in its wake as it pranced around the stones surrounding the fire.
He glanced over to see that Lancelot was watching the stag, his eyes sparkling with wonder. “That’s beautiful. Can you do a bird?”
“Hafoc!” Merlin said, and a fiery hawk soared up from the flames, wings shimmering as it flew around them.
He loved the way Lancelot looked at his magic, the sheer joy and awe. None of the worry and concern his mother and Gaius showed for him. It was so nice to have a friend in on the secret, someone who accepted him unconditionally.
Merlin couldn’t help but feel warm inside. He often had to remind himself that his magic was a good thing. It was hard to do that back at the castle, but when he was around Lancelot, it was as easy as breathing air.
Once they had eaten some of the dried meat and berries they’d brought with them, they were ready to get some sleep. The storm wasn’t clearing up anytime soon, and it wouldn’t be wise to walk back to Camelot in the dark.
Merlin drew back the curtain in the corner to see that there was only one bed.
“I can sleep on the floor,” Lancelot said.
“No, I can’t let you do that. I’ll sleep on the floor. You can have the bed.”
Lancelot laughed. “Well, if neither of us will budge on the matter, how about we share the bed? It looks big enough for the both of us.”
“Oh.” Merlin dearly hoped he wasn’t blushing. “Yeah, I guess that makes more sense than us both sleeping on the floor.”
“And it’ll be warmer,” Lancelot said, grinning.
It was something practical and casual for Lancelot, but Merlin couldn’t manage to think of it that way. He was nervous to be sharing a bed with Lancelot. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he only hoped that Lancelot wouldn’t be able to notice how nervous he was.
Lancelot stripped down to an undershirt and breeches and climbed into the bed. He pulled the blanket over him and faced away from Merlin. That made it a little easier for Merlin to climb into bed beside him, still fully clothed.
He had no luck with actually sleeping. Lancelot shifted in his sleep several times while Merlin stayed stiff as a board, his heart racing.
Merlin didn’t relax until he heard Lancelot gently snoring. He turned to look at him. They’d left the lantern lit on the bedside table behind Merlin. In its glow, he could just make out Lancelot’s face, kissed by candlelight.
Merlin watched him sleep, fascinated by how beautiful he was. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be his, impossible as that might be. He knew Lancelot was still in love with Gwen. He’d been eager to accompany Merlin on this errand for Arthur, but when he heard it was actually to obtain a gift for Gwen, he had acted a bit strange. Lancelot claimed he was okay with how things ended with her, but Merlin knew he was just saying that to be noble. He had noticed a few too many wistful stares.
How he wished he could tell Lancelot not to worry about Gwen anymore, that there was someone else who cared about him deeply. Someone who loved him, who would do anything for him. Die for him, even.
Merlin forced himself to turn away from Lancelot and closed his eyes, hoping his dreams would be more pleasant than the reality of unrequited love.
Merlin awoke early in the morning to find that Lancelot had shifted again in his sleep. He had his arm wrapped around Merlin and his nose brushed the back of Merlin’s neck. Merlin didn’t remember falling asleep, but he was glad that he did.
He couldn’t have Lancelot as his own, but he could enjoy this short time before Lancelot woke up, imagine what life could be like with him. Logically, he knew Lancelot must have gotten cold in the night, or maybe he’d dreamed about Gwen and that was why he’d snuggled up to Merlin, but it was hard to tell his heart to listen to logic right now.
He basked in this feeling, the warmth of Lancelot’s body against him, his face pressed against Merlin’s neck. The smell of vanilla and leather surrounding him, making him feel safe and loved.
“Oh, sorry,” Lancelot said, his voice low and sleepy. He pulled away from him, and Merlin felt his absence like a missing limb.
“I’ll make us some breakfast,” Merlin said to cover his disappointment. He hurried out of bed, glad that he’d worn his clothes to sleep, and crouched down to dig through his satchel for something they could eat.
There wasn’t a lot to choose from. They couldn’t touch the strawberries he’d picked up for Arthur, so all that was left was dried meat and wild berries. It was too early to eat something heavy, so that left the wild berries.
“Here.”
Merlin looked up to see Lancelot was holding out a roll of bread towards him. “Nicked it from the dining hall yesterday.”
“You don’t want it?” Merlin asked, surprised.
Lancelot laughed. “I don’t mind eating berries again. Unless you want to share the bread.”
Merlin nodded. “Sure. I’m not that hungry, so half should be plenty.”
Lancelot tore the roll in half and handed Merlin the larger piece. They sat down before the fireplace to eat their breakfast.
Afterwards, Lancelot put on his warm clothes and boots while Merlin packed up his satchel and put out the fire. They walked outside into the cold to find that the snow had settled in a thick blanket on the ground and it was only lightly snowing.
Merlin held out his hand and watched as a snowflake fluttered down into his palm. It melted on contact. He couldn’t help marvelling at the beauty of it. He never saw snow like this, soft and quiet, not accompanied by dark skies and howling winds.
It was nice, peaceful.
Something hard pelted into his shoulder and white dust exploded over the sleeve of his shirt. Merlin turned to see Lancelot grinning, packing a snowball together in his hands.
“Oh, you’re on!” Merlin reached down for a handful of snow. He might have used a little magic to make sure it hit its mark.
Lancelot doubled over, grabbing his stomach, and dropped the snowball he’d been holding. He only took a moment to recover, swooping down to retrieve another handful of snow. His snowball hit Merlin in the shoulder, and he laughed, brushing off the dust of snow.
It was rare for them to have fun like this. To just live in the moment without worry of what the future would bring.
Merlin ran towards Lancelot and tackled him to the ground. He toppled back onto the blanket of snow, grinning and laughing.
“What was that for?” he asked, mirth in his eyes.
Merlin stared at him. Whatever he’d been about to say dissolved from his mind like melting snow. Lancelot was just so beautiful, his head haloed in white snow.
A shiver ran through Merlin that had nothing to do with the cold. He leaned down and kissed Lancelot, his lips cold but ever so sweet. He could taste the dessert they’d eaten at the tavern last night. Oh, it was such a wonderful moment. Merlin never wanted it to end, but then reality caught up to him and he realised that he’d just kissed his friend.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, pulling away from him.
Lancelot gripped his arm. “No, don’t be sorry. I liked it.”
Merlin gave him a tentative smile. “You did?”
“Yeah. Could you do it again?”
Merlin grinned and leaned down, lacing his fingers through Lancelot’s damp hair. He let himself enjoy each detail of this moment. The way Lancelot’s lashes fluttered, the gentle snow melting on his cheeks, the inviting curve of his mouth.
Merlin kissed him, gentle at first, then more intense as Lancelot kissed him back. He felt Lancelot’s hands move up his back, warm and firm and holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world. He didn’t mind the cold so much after that.
Halfway back to Camelot, they stopped in a little cave to drink some water and eat a light lunch. Merlin set up a magical fire inside the cave and leaned against Lancelot’s shoulder, their hands entwined.
“So, how long have you felt this way about me?” Merlin asked, biting his lip.
“A few months now. Once I became a knight and moved to the castle, I was seeing Gwen and Arthur together so much. It became easier to let go of my feelings for her. And you’ve always been there, cheering me on, believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself. It was only natural that I’d fall in love with you.”
Merlin’s breath hitched. He hadn’t realised Lancelot’s feelings were that strong, but it made him so unbelievably happy. “I’m in love with you too. Have been for quite a while.”
“Oh, yeah?” Lancelot’s voice was soft and curious. “When did you first notice your feelings?”
“It was a little while after I called for your help taking Camelot back. I was so happy that you came, but the moment I realised my feelings was while we were lying next to each other talking while everyone else was sleeping and you could just tell I had a magic trick up my sleeve and offered to help with no hesitation. I knew then that you understood me better than anyone else. And I don’t know, I realised that I liked how much you paid attention to me, how much you cared about me, and I started wondering what it would be like to be with you. Like this.” He held up their joined hands, smiling softly.
Lancelot pulled back a little, and Merlin sat up, looking at him with worry.
“Is everything okay?”
Lancelot smiled, putting a gentle hand on Merlin’s cheek. “Everything’s perfect. I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to imagine anymore. I want to be with you, Merlin. I want Arthur and Guinevere and the knights to know that I’m yours. Would that be all right with you?”
Happiness bubbled through Merlin’s chest, and he put his own hand on Lancelot’s cheek, rubbing his soft brown skin. “Yes, that’s more than all right.”
He pulled Lancelot close again and kissed him, pouring all his joy and love into the kiss. He didn’t want Lancelot to doubt his sincerity for one moment. They were together at last, and he wanted to treasure this moment forever.