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The sun shines and a warm breeze rustles through the trees. Next to him, Merlin can feel the warm body weight of Arthur, their hands slotted together, and Arthur’s thumb tracing soft circles on the back of his hand. The basket of food and wine they brought along for their picnic lays discarded between them, the two of them much more content to just sit in each other’s presence.
“You know, if anyone found us here, like this, we’d have a lot of explaining to do,” Arthur chuckled, turning to look at Merlin.
“Good thing you’re the king and you don’t have to explain yourself then. Besides, this is nothing. Good thing no one’s ever come into your chambers when we’re in there. Or the throne room for that matter. That’d be much harder to explain away.” Merlin winks and Arthur’s face heats up.
“ Mer lin!”
Merlin laughs at the look of utter scandal on Arthur’s face. Leave it to Arthur, the king, and a fearsome warrior, to get embarrassed at the talk of what the two of them got up to after hours; not that he minded in the moment though.
He pulls Arthur in, his hand going to rest in the soft hair at the nape of Arthur’s neck, and lets their lips meet in a soft kiss. There’s nothing urgent to it, nothing heated, just the warmth and love that Merlin feels-warm enough to rival the sun.
“I love you, Arthur. I’ll probably always love you.”
“I love you too.”
They pull back to look into each other’s eyes, smiles on their faces.
And just like that, the moment ends.
The sun fades into an endless gray, Arthur’s face blurs into oblivion, and a cold chill rolls in.
This isn’t real merlin. I’m sorry. Arthur’s voice, distant, gone, echos in his head.
The tears are coming before Merlin even opens his eyes. And when he does, he’s back in the cold reality of the modern day, with nothing but the memory of Arthur’s lips on his and a vast emptiness in his chest where his heart used to be.
Merlin’s heart had always been Arthur’s and Arthur had taken it with him, into death, and down into the depths of the lake of Avalon.