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"Come on, attack me as if you mean it."
Merlin adjusts his footing into a defensive posture, expecting his taunt to rise something in Arthur. It does. Apart from his words, his eyes are heavy on Arthur’s, his lips red and smug, his hands clenching and unclenching, ready to cast.
A soft breeze ruffles his hair. Arthur swings his sword.
Their weapons clash with a piercing sound, the force of it sends a thrill down Arthur’s arms. He laughs with exhilaration and swings again.
Little are the times when they can escape from their duties. It happened more often when Merlin was his servant, but since Arthur named him court sorcerer they never seem to have time for themselves, even though they still spend most of their days together.
That's why Arthur decided to tell Merlin to go to the stables that morning, and without explanation, he threw him the reins of his horse.
Merlin didn't complain, so he took it as a win.
The travel through the forest was surprisingly swift and uneventful. The gallop of the horses blended with the singing of birds above them, and blooming flowers announced the coming of spring. In the middle of all that nature, Arthur watched Merlin admire the landscape, and longed.
They arrived at a clearing covered in daisies, ate some of the food Arthur had brought and talked about the latest court gossip they knew. Then, when the silence grew too comfortable, Arthur had the marvellous idea of duelling, him with his sword and Merlin with his magic. The idea turned out not to be so marvellous, because he is, as expected, losing.
Merlin fends off every single one of his blows with magic. Arthur has never had more fun sparring.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Merlin taunts him, and, all right, he’d have more fun if Merlin didn’t spend half of the time mocking him.
"I'm trying here," Arthur does not whine, because kings don't whine.
"What? Is this too hard for the best warrior of Albion?"
Arthur gives him a smirk,
"You think I'm a good warrior?"
Merlin rolls his eyes and attacks again with the one-handed staff he had conjured. His eyes shine golden, like a sunset but better. Arthur gets a good few hits, trying to get closer to him.
Arthur swings to his right, leaving his left open, and Merlin hits him with a beam of magic that sends him to the ground, landing on a bunch of daisies.
"You keep watching my eyes," Merlin points as he offers him a hand, "which is a good way of getting yourself killed."
Arthur takes the hand and gets up. He is closer to Merlin than he intended, but neither steps away. There, face to face, breathing the same air, Arthur pretends to be calm and with a grin says,
"What? Trying to kill me often?"
Merlin looks at him with something resembling fondness, but that might be exasperation. Then he puts his hand on Arthur's shoulder and gently pushes him, creating a distance between them Arthur never wants to be there.
"One last time?" Merlin asks. Arthur nods and grabs his sword from the ground.
He swings first, to Merlin's right, the sword bouncing off a golden magic shield. Merlin moves his hand down, and magic forms the vague shape of a sword that looks less solid than Arthur knows it is.
Merlin is not holding his weapon; it hovers in the air above his hand, and though it gives him agility and speed, it lacks firmness. Arthur strikes it, stepping towards Merlin, who steps back. Merlin swings, meeting Arthur's sword once, twice. He steps back again and slowly circles Arthur. He is careful to fully face Merlin at all times, though that is something he doesn’t need much practice on.
It’s easy to lose yourself in the slow dance that is fighting. Paying attention to every little one of your opponent's movements, and pointedly not looking at his eyes. Merlin raises his sword, and Arthur meets him there. Then, he lowers them both with a swift movement, and takes advantage of the lack of obstacles between them to tackle Merlin with his shoulder.
Because that is something Merlin has not yet learned. Your weapon is only an extension of yourself, and you must fight like you dance: with your whole body.
He lands on top of Merlin with a thud, and grinning, he says,
"I think I win."
Just after he speaks he realises how breathy his voice is, how his panting is less controlled than he thought it was. He notices how Merlin's chest moves against his own.
He rolls off him before their closeness makes him do something stupid, because this is something he has yet not learned: He can’t just tackle Merlin and expect to feel normal when they touch. He settles on his back, grass tickling his neck and forearms.
"You win," Merlin breathes. He then gets himself comfortable on the ground and closes his eyes.
Sunlight filters through the tree leaves and paints Merlin with light, and Arthur wants to trace every inch of his face with his fingertips. The curve of his lips, his nose, his cheekbones. He wishes he could have the peace to see him like this every day, forever.
"I can feel you watching me," Merlin whispers.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he whispers back.
Merlin's lips stretch into a smile. He turns his face towards Arthur and opens his eyes. Arthur does not have the strength to look away.
Merlin props himself on an elbow, and looking down at Arthur, haloed by the afternoon light, says,
"Hi."
"Hi," Arthur answers, unsure how to react and what to do as Merlin brings a hand to his cheek, and, ever so slowly, leans down.
When their lips touch, it’s like the sun meeting the horizon. Arthur never wants to let go. He wraps his arms around Merlin, who climbs onto his lap without breaking the kiss.
Arthur lets his hands travel to Merlin's neck, then lower to whatever warmth they can find. He can feel one of Merlin’s hands on his chest, where his heart threatens to escape from his ribcage.
"I think I win, now," Merlin murmurs against his lips.
Arthur can only manage a "hm?", his mind fuzzy.
"I'm on top of you. I win."
Arthur huffs.
"That's cheating."
"According to who?" He can feel Merlin's smile against his.
"Me." He runs his fingers over Merlin's cheek, his chin, his jaw. It feels better than he would have ever imagined. "Now stop talking."