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"But-" a little boy sniffed, his eyes getting watery, "I don't want to."
"You need to," the man repeated, not for the first time.
"But I don't want to curse anyone!"
"There are those who deserve cursing though."
"Yes," the boy stomped his foot. "But he didn't do anything! He's just a baby."
"Merlin," the man sighed, "you need to understand. It is crucial that we follow the law. Whenever a prince or princess is born, we should be invited to their christening. If you are not invited you come there and instead of your blessing you give a curse. These are the foundations that keep our world going. If you don't follow them things would go incredibly wrong. It is rumored that this might cause all the wizards to go extinct. And the others won't be unaffected. Prince Arthur would also hurt. He might die. You need to do this, for him and for all the wizards and witches of Camelot."
The tears that were only in the boy's eyes slipped down his cheeks and he was now outright crying, sobbing pathetically.
"Okay, Master Kilgharrah."
"Come on," the man hugged him, rocking him slightly. "This is his fate, dear boy. You just need to help fate come true."
The celebration in the king's castle was big and loud. People from all over the kingdom came there to feast in the name of the newborn prince, an heir of Camelot's throne and Uther Pendragon's only son. The tables were covered with food and drinks and everyone from a commoner to the highest lord were welcome to celebrate Prince Arthur.
It was closer to the night, when the wines poured freely and the laughs sounded louder when the doors opened and in came a tall figure in a cloak.
Everyone fell silent and one could hear a fly flying through the hall.
"What do you want?" The king asked, standing up from his throne. His face was still young, but the creases on his forehead and next to his lips told the story of a great warrior who had recently lost a dear person. "State your name and be welcome here if you hold no ill thought."
"Uther Pendragon," the man said quietly, but his voice reached even the corners of the hall. He lowered the hood, showing an old man with gray shaggy hair and bright yellow eyes.
"That's not me you should fear! And it's not me who holds your son's fate in his hands."
"What?" The king roared. "Guards!"
"Merlin!"
A smaller figure came to stand in front of the intruder, one that was formerly overlooked behind the tall man. The figure shifted, its hood falling down, and it was a small boy, barely five winters old, with big ears and even bigger green eyes.
His lips trembled, and he took a deep breath, before saying in a loud high voice, "Let you never," he stopped to take one more deep breath, "Let you never kiss anyone. Kissing is gross anyway," he added as an afterthought.
"Why would you," the king started.
"The law is the law," Kilgharrah interrupted him. "You either invite each and every of the Highest Warlocks, or you wait for the curse. Merlin," he looked at the boy. "You need to add the second part. We went through this."
The boy nodded. "Let you never kiss anyone until you meet your true love."
"Not particularly ominous," Kilgharrah sighed. "We'll work on that."
"Clotpole!"
"Dollophead!"
"Nah, the name is Merlin."
"Merlin?"
And that's how the sandy-haired knight tugged Merlin into a side alley, asking what Merlin wasn't expecting to hear on his first day in the city.
"So you cursed me!"
"I'm what? I didn't curse anyone."
"Does Prince Arthur ring any bells?"
Oh.
"Listen," Merlin said, "I literally had no choice."
"Did you have to make it so embarrassing though?" Arthur asked, anger sipping out of his voice. "Should I tell you about Elena? I thought she'd be my first kiss." He swallowed, leaning back on a wall. "I didn't know about the curse before that. And here we were, and it was so romantic. I thought of everything, picnic, candles, star night. Her face next to mine, her lips almost brushing mine, but we miss each other. We laughed it off but on the third try I fell down and broke my shoulder. Literally."
Merlin snorted. "I'm sorry."
Arthur glared at him but continued. "We tried again next time, and you know what happened?"
"No," Merlin looked at him expectedly.
"A wild donkey! A fucking donkey running just at us."
This time Merlin couldn't contain a full body laugh. "Look..."
"My bride left me at the altar."
"Well, apparently she wasn't the love of your life," Merlin shrugged sympathetically.
"No, but she was chosen by my father. That's how we do stuff." There was a thoughtful look at Arthur's face. "Though that might be for the best. She kind of turned out to be sidhe and wanted to kill me."
"She what?"
"Yeah, and we needed to kiss her to finish her ritual, so she failed."
"See! That's for the best."
"And then Lance." Arthur's eyes were far away. "I was sure he was it."
"He wasn't," Merlin stated, seeing where this story was going.
"No." There was sadness in his eyes.
"Anyway," Prince Arthur shook the nostalgy off of himself and stalked closer to Merlin, poking his chest. "Take. It. Off."
"Listen," Merlin licked kis lips, taking a step back, "I told you. I can't-"
"Bullshit," Arthur took one more step and Merlin tried to step back, only to stumble and grab Arthur's shoulder to keep balance. The Prince momentarily lost balance. They fell back against the wall, their heads bumping together, lips coming to lips, a moment and they were apart, panting and looking at each other bewildered.
"That's you-"
"What? No, no, no, no."
"That was a kiss."
"It wasn't a kiss."
"The lips touched."
"That wasn't a kiss."
"Oh for fuck's sake."
The second time it was definitely a kiss.