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Merlin held his breath as he slipped past the doors and into the King’s chambers. The guards were fast asleep at their posts, and he couldn’t have been more grateful at the moment.
The room was dark—lit only by the hearth and moonlight coming through the window near the bed.
“Merlin?” A voice called quietly, both hopeful and wary. “Merlin, is that you?”
“It’s me,” he replied in a whisper, his voice carrying across the room despite the low volume.
A soft breath of relief followed the confirmation, and Merlin smiled. He let his eyes flare gold, lighting the candles around the chambers. Light filled the room and Merlin walked over to the bed with his path newly lit.
When his eyes fell on Arthur, who laid snuggled in his bed with the duvet pulled to the chin, a smile spread across his lips.
“You look like a little prince,” he teased, sitting on the edge of the bed. “All small and tiny and tucked in for bed.”
“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur huffed, narrowing his eyes at him, “I am a king. I am neither tiny nor small.”
“Oh, that’s for sure.” Merlin smirked. As Arthur’s face grew red and he sputtered, Merlin tugged on the duvet. “Come on, let me in.”
Arthur glared at him for a moment before sighing and tossing back the covers. “Get in here. Did anyone see you?”
Merlin’s heart ached at the frantic tone to his voice when he asked the question. He hated it was something they even had to think about… It shouldn’t have been. They deserved to be open and happy and proud and…it hurt to have to worry about being seen because of their harsh past.
To have to sneak into Arthur’s chambers on the rare occasion when he was able to visit.
It was getting harder and harder to visit.
Merlin took a deep breath and crawled into bed next to Arthur, snuggling close as the duvet was pulled back over them both. It was warm and smelled like Arthur. Maybe that should have been off-putting. Merlin could only find it comforting though.
Slowly, he tucked himself into Arthur’s side, sighing at the warmth radiating from him.
“I missed you,” Merlin murmured. And he did, he had missed him so much. So much. Arthur hummed softly and Merlin looked up to his face. There was a longing look in his eyes that Merlin could only assume he mirrored. He wanted so much more than that they had.
“I missed you, too, Merlin,” Arthur sighed.
He wanted to say Arthur wouldn’t have to miss him if they just stopped acting like rebellious children and came clean to the court about their affair. If they commissioned rings and stood before an altar. It would be good for both of their kingdom’s, anyway, to unite through their union.
Their councils wouldn’t object, not really. They’d put on a show, a big deal about how the kings hated each other, but they’d not really object.
It would be a good political move.
Yet still they hid.
Stolen kisses in dark alcoves, illicit cuddling in the dead of night…
It was getting tiring.
Merlin was getting tired.
It had been going on far too long.
They were kings, dammit! They shouldn’t have to hide! They were the ones in control! They made the laws and commanded knights and lead their peoples! They deserved the freedom their respective denizens had…
Yet, of course, they were the only ones standing in their own way. Their own anxiety, their own fear. However irrational—however unwarranted—it was real, and it was shattering.
It was suffocating.
They couldn’t live like this, though. They had so much potential. They were made for one another—gods, Merlin would dare to call them soulmates on a good day, despite the rocky start they got off on that harboured the core of their anxieties.
They deserved to be free of their own fear.
Merlin buried his face in Arthur’s neck and placed soft, placating kisses along the soft skin, decision made. When he heard Arthur let out a soft, calm sigh, he struck.
“We can't keep sneaking around like this,” Merlin murmured against the other King’s skin, his face still pressed into his neck. Arthur stiffened before he let out another sigh [albeit this one more tired], his arms tightening around Merlin.
“I don't want to, but you know that if they find out—”
Merlin pulled back from his neck and cut him off with a sweet kiss. Arthur let out a small hum as Merlin's pressed their lips together, slowly closing his eyes. It was a weak distraction, but worked, nonetheless. When he pulled back, Merlin ran his fingers through Arthur's hair, distantly and silently delighted by how soft it was.
“Maybe it's time they found out,” he whispered, cautious and slow.
Arthur's eyes went wide at the suggestion, but Merlin wasn't done. "I can only make the excuse of coming to Camelot for diplomatic meetings so many times before my own council gets suspicious and starts asking questions... Maybe it's time we make this public.”
“Merlin, I… You know we—the councils—”
“I’m tired of hiding, Arthur,” Merlin murmured, voice pleading, “we deserve to be… We shouldn’t have to hide. We don’t have to hide. Not anymore, not now that we’re kings…”
Arthur fell silent.
Deafeningly silent.
Merlin’s heart pounded in his chest so loud he swore the next kingdom over could hear it. He was risking so much. If Arthur didn’t want to step into the light with him…
“I want to marry you,” he choked out before he realised what he was saying, desperate for Arthur to understand how much he meant to him. Arthur inhaled sharply and his eyes widened impossibly further.
“Merlin,” he breathed, staring at him like he was something of a wonder. Then, there were lips on his once more—burning but soft, not hurried or rushed. It was full of so much and Merlin was overwhelmed by the emotion. When he pulled away, it was Merlin’s turn to be breathless, speechless. “Let’s do it.”
Merlin blinked once, twice, three times. His tongue darted out to wet his lips before he quietly—dumbly—asked, “what?”
Arthur laughed a fond laugh and ghosted his lips over Merlin’s.
“Get married, you dense fool,” he mumbled.
“Oh,” Merlin sighed, lips pulling into a dopey grin. “And our councils…?”
“Oh, bloody—fuck the councils,” Arthur huffed, tugging Merlin impossibly closer, “you’re right, it’s…time we say damn it all and stop being such blubbering cowards. We’re kings! And you should relish this moment, because that’s not something I’ll say very often once we’re married.”
Merlin snorted softly and shook his head just barely. “Prat.”
A moment of silence passed between them, calm but delicate, and Merlin closed his eyes.
“We’re going to get married,” he hummed, a slight sing-song tone to his voice.
Arthur hummed in response, mirroring his tone. “We’re going to get married.”
Anxiety still buzzed beneath Merlin’s skin, and his heart raced in his chest, but neither overpowered the joy that sang in his veins. They were ready. They were done hiding.
They were getting married.