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Chapter Text

Merlin liked to be busteling around the room when Arthur held court, pretending to be doing something, while not actually doing anything at all. Just listening in, while Arthur, now king, pretended to know what he was doing. 

Merlin liked to see Arthur sweat his royal backside off, that was more like it. 

Merlin saw right trough him.

And oh, Arthur was sweating. He was exhaused. Exhausted from all his hard royal duties - feasting on banquets, sitting around and listen to commoner's complaints, signing papers and yelling orders to his servant. What a hard life that must be - Merlin could barely imagine (He could, actually, and did not feel one single spark of sympathy for his king). 

"There is yet another letter for you, Mylord", Leon said, giving the piece of paper to the person to his left, letting it wander around the round table for Arthur to reach, because for some reason the man sat almost on the opposite of that ridicolusly large table - which was inconvenient, as Leon had been promototed to somewhat of Arthur's personal postman (lucky him?), given that the insane amount of letters Arthur now recieved had to be handeled somehow. Therefore Leon frequently had to hand over some sort of paper to the king, always having to take the long way half round the table. Most inefficient, but somewhat amusing. 

Now that the letter had finally arrived before its destined pair of eyes, Arthur let out a deep, deep sigh (a most dramatic one, as it is), which could only mean one thing, and the thing that had exhaused Arthur (and all of his court, to be fair) the most - courting. And not in the way he was holding court right now, but in like - courting. Courtship. Betrothal. Wooing. The whole world shaking at the fact that Arthur - king for now what? Like, two or three month to come - was still a bachelor. Or rather, all the nobels shaking in their boots from excitement about the idea of marrying their daughters off to a king (not for the wellbeing of their daughter, but for all the money that would come with it, that is, of course). Anyhow, an unmarried king seemed to be a criminal offense in the kingdom of Camelot. Which was funny to Merlin, as the actual king of Camelot didn't seem too keen on taking a woman any time soon. 

Talking of who, now passing the letter on to Gaius on his right for him to read aloud, leaning - once again, damatically exhausted - back in his chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling, as if he'd find release in the spider-webs clinging between the arms of the cadelier (Merlin had promised to clean them off weeks ago, but they were damn hard to reach. Cut him some slack, dear reader). 

Gaius, eyes flitting over the words, announced: "We will have the great pleasure to host Lady Amara over the next five days." An audible graon washed over the round table, despite every participating member seemed to had tried their best to keep it inaudible (it all kind of summarized up). "She and her entourage will arrive-" he paused, presumably doing a quick math, "-probably by tomorrow."

Another, even more audible, groan. A visit meant every single one of them on highest effort. No breaks, only play-pretend perfect court of Camelot. They did pull that game of pretty well by now, but they did have more than plenty enough time to practise. There were so many visitors (potential marriage prospects) around, there was barely a time when there were none. 

"How many-", Arthur asked, with an exhaused voice (as if it wasn't clear by now), "how many of them do I have to reject, before word spreads, that I am not getting married at this time?"

"Oh it's hard, isn't it, brother dear, when it is someone else than yourself, who can't take a no?" Merlin caught Morgana's eyes for just a moment, a wit smile on her face. She'd know he silently cheered her on just by this look. 

Arthur still held on to this thought of marrying for love one day, which Merlin thought was ridiculous, as he couldn't ever picture anyone loving that toadface enough to willingly sign a contract for them to spent the rest of their life with him. Destiny already forced him to do that (thank you very much), assigning his fate in keeping that king with the survival instincts of a common lemming alive.

"Gaius, when did they stop trying to court my father, back when he was in my position?"

The doctor adverted his eyes. "I'm afraid you won't like the answer, Sire."

"When?"

"Only when he married your mother, Mylord. Or when their engagement was announced official, though there were merly a few days between one event and the other."

"Great", Arthur said, putting both his hands on the table. "What does a king got to do to bring some peace to his castle."

"Well, the most efficient way seems to actually get married-"

"Yes, thank you, Gwaine, for this most insightful advice. I would not have figured that out by myself."

"If I was proposed options like that, Sire, I'd-"

"You are not. Any other ideas? Anyone?"

"Actually", Morgana said, what earned her a look from Arthur which clearly said 'don't say it, but she did say it anyway, "you don't have to necessarily get married. Or be engaged. You just have to pretend."

He really did think about her proposal, Merlin could almost see little smoke swirling out of his ears. That hard did he think about it. 

"Sure, but if I'd claim to be engaged, I'd sooner or later have to present a finacé, wouldn't I?"

"You would have to find someone to play that part in your little con, yes." Morgana admitted. "Listen - to help you out, I'd do it myself, but our family relation is widely known, so that would give it all a wrong touch, don't you think?"

"Not an option. But thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I'd do it as well", Guinevere said, raising her voice for the first time in a while. She still seemed a little shy around all of this. "But given my state, I guess it would rise some questions." She smiled widely, hands resting on her belly. 

Merlin was no expert on pregnancy, but given the fact his friend looked like she was carrying two fully filled potato sacks around with her beneath her dress, he reconed it couldn't be long until the child arrived. Lancelot has been going insane, wouldn't shut up about possible names, even though Gwen had already decided on two long time ago.

"It would have to be someone, who is not only in on the plan, but also smart enough to keep it all covered", Morgana said.

"Someone with manners", Gaius added. 

"Someone we know we can trust", Gwen said. 

"Someone who knows her way around the castle", Leon chimed in. 

Someone who can put up with him, Merlin thought.

It was quiet for a moment. Arthur shifted in his seat. "It shouldn't be as hard to find someone, right? Any recommendations?"

All kept quiet. Except for Merlin, who did his best, yet failed, to keep his chuckle in. 

Arthurs gaze shifted to him. "Anything you want to add, Merlin?"

"No. Not at all. Just - good luck with that."

"Luck? What would I need luck for? There are plenty of women who would like to marry me. And I bet there are just as many who would enjoy to pretend."

"That's because they don't know you", he said under his breath, going back to pretend-doing something.

But Arthur had heard it. Of course he had. He always did. "What was that? I am most pleasant company."

"If you say so, Sire, I'm sure it must be true."

"Actually", Gwaine said, tapping his fingers on the wooden table before him. "I know someone who can work their way around a dress."

Merlin didn't like the tone of this. Not at all. 

He could feel the energy shift in the room. He could feel all their eyes slowly creeping towards him, pinning him down under their considering glances. 

"No", he said. "No. No. I am not doing that. I am not-"

Chapter Text

Arthur didn't know what he'd expected when he opened that door. He really didn't. Nor did he know what he was thinking when he had agreed to that insane plan of Morgana's to dress Merlin up as his fiancé for the coming five days. 

Two things happened when he opened that door. First, Morgana shouted at him, "Is that a way to enter a lady's chamber? Without even a knock?" and threw some sort of scarf in his direction, which merely flew half the way before landing on the floor between them. Second, Merlin sat there in the middle of the room, his appearence bathed in some sort of golden sunlight, which fell through the half opend window, all soft and very cliché. 

Arthur would't say his heart stopped at that moment (it did). He played it over all calm and relaxed (he didn't), so that Morgana and Guinevere didn't even notice he was a little thrown off by the looks of his servant (they absolutely did). 

"I wasn't aware that I was walking into the chambers of a Lady", he said.

"Well then", Morgana waved her hand, "let me introduce you to Lady Merylin."

Arthur put a hand over his face. "Oh dear." 

Merlin actually looked like a lady. They had put him in a dress, one of Morgana's, presumably, and put ...stuff on his face, and his black hair was now almost reaching his hips. He actually looked quite... pretty.

However they had managed to achieve that. 

"And that's definitly the best way to greet your betrothed, darling, but you can call me Merylin for now", Merlin - Merylin said. 

"What's that voice?" Arthur rised a skepical brow.

"What voice?"

"You're doing a voice." He sounded more feminin. 

"I'm not - doing any voice."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not. I have no idea what you're on about-"

"Stop it!"

"I'm not doing any voice!"

"You talk differently!"

"No, I'm not-"

"Yes, you are!"

Morgana clapped her hands together with a big grin. They stopped bickering and looked at her. 

"Come on, keep it going! This is going to work out just great!"

Arthur was too stunned to speak. Shared a confused look with Merlin,  as Gwen thankfully slided in to disrupt the uncomfortable silence and placed a pair of heeled shoes infront of Merlin. "Here you go!"

Arthur eyed them critically as Merlin slipped them on, these shoes obviously made for women. "Do you even know how to walk in these?" 

Merlin looked him dead in the eye, got up, and walked. And how did he walk. He strutted, hips swaying, the fabric of his dress flowing, creating the illusion of a delicate waistline. Arthur felt a little funny around his stomach, which clearly must come from the fact that he didn't have any breakfast beside a single apple this morning (Merlin has been occupied otherwise).

"Alright then", he said, tongue dry. "Ladys, let's get down to welcome our guest for the week. They won't be to far away anymore by now."

That's where he was wrong. Apparently, they were still quite far away at this point, leaving Arthur and his court, all dressed up in their red robes, waiting for a little more than an hour. 

With a hiss of "Not a word", he'd disrupted Merlin, after he had bent down to ask him - yes, bend down, because in that shoes Merlin was taller than Arthur, what bugged him more than it probably should (or should it? For he was The King, and not only that, but The Greatest. Shouldn't he therefore be The Tallest as well? Or, at least, be taller than his alleged queen-to-be? - something (Arthur didn't know what he'd wanted to ask, as he didn't let him finish. Pay attention, reader.)

The moment they had stepped a foot outside the castle, it had started to rain. Now, it was pouring down, leaving Arthur soaked to the bone and with an attitude of a pissed wet cat. If that Lady Amara didn't show up soon, he'd shut the castle door behind him and not open, no matter how hard she'd bang on it. 

But it did not come to that, as the Lady did arrive not soon after, when the rain was almost gone again. Taken they all seemed to have stayed quite dry, they must have had stopped before the shower hit and waited for the weather to pass. Which was quite the smart move, Arthur had to admit.

The moment Arthur could actually  see her, he regretted that scheme they were about to pull off. 

Lady Amara was gorgeous. A tall figure with curves in all the right places, skin of mahagony, dark curls flowing over her shoulders, skillfully pinned back from her soft face, reaching almost to her hips. Arthur took her hand and kissed it after their greeting (which was unusual for a king, but he did forget himself here for a moment), before looking at her eyes of emerald green. Maybe he could still stop this madness before it has even begun. Maybe he could-

But Lady Amara already offered her greetings to Merlin beside him with a smile. "I don't think we have met before?"

"We have not" Merlin - Merylin took Amaras hand between theirs. "I'm Lady Merylin."

Arthur was just about to step in, but Morgana on Merylins other side was faster than him. "The King's Queen-to-be."

Damnit, Morgana.

"And the Lady Morgana", Amara said, "I'm so glad we finally get to meet."

"As am I."

Amara turned back to Merylin and Arthur. "Well, I wasn't aware the king was about to get married."

"Our engagment has not been officially announed yet", Arthur tried to make it sound like I'm still open for other options, but knew it was a lost cause when Merylin put a hand on his arm and said, "It has not? I was not aware that you wanted to wait for much longer. When you proposed ... this arrangement to me, you had seem so... eager, my love."

Arthur looked at Merylin. Amara looked at Merylin as well, and so did Morgana. Quite frankly, everyone looked at Merylin at that moment.

But Arthur just looked at Merylin. She'd called him my love, in the same way Merlin called him my lord when he wanted to mock him (he never called him that when he wasn't mocking him, to be honest). But they hadn't. They'd called him my love, and Arthur suddenly didn't know what to do with that. He had no clue. And he didn't know how to feel about it, but he did feel something. But he didn't know what to do with that either, so he just looked at Merylin. And they looked right back at him, just as confused as Arthur felt at that moment. And there was a moment. 

And that moment was promptly gone when Morgana said, "You must understand, Lady Amara, my dear brother is quite the romantic type. I bet he is planning something big for his favourite Lady. Come on, now, let's get inside, before it starts pouring again."

Chapter Text

Now, feasting was something Merlin could see himself getting into on the long run. Not the part where he'd have to serve, up on his feet all evening and perhaps getting some cold scraps from the kitchen - no. But this. This right here. Just sitting around and stuffing your face with delicous food. All evening long. It was amazing. 

He could, obviously, cut that pretending to be Arthurs betrothed stuff. But, oh well, he'd done far worse for a free dinner. 

And Merylin had it all under control.

 Yes, maybe she might accidentally has been very close to blowing their cover just before dinner, when she'd entered the room at the side of Lady Amara, who had asked: 

"So, you come from far away, then?"

And she had answered: 

"Yes. My hometown is many day's a ride east from here."

To what the Lady had raised her eyebrows in confusion: 

"Eastern? Lady Morgana had just told me you were from the west?"

"Ah", Merylin had stiffeled a little laugh to make time to come up with some sort of creative, yet believable lie (Good thing Merlin was actually an expert at that), "She must have misspoken. From here, my home is in the east, but it's the western part of my kingdom, where I lived before."

It took Lady Amara a moment, but it seemed like she'd found that plausible. Or at least she politely pretended to. "I see." 

She laughed politely, and so did Merylin. They parted before the table and all was well. Especially now, as both Arthur and Morgana sat between them and Merylin didn't have to do much conversation. She'd just chime in, now and then, with a smile, and a flirt, and with batting her eyelashes. 

"We're having a tournament tomorrow? What an exciting idea! But not quite as exciting as seeing King Arthur in chainmail, am I right?" He must have drunken alot of wine by then, because his cheeks were flushed red. So Merylin reached out and patted his cheek with a wink and added, "Don't be humble, dear. You know you look great in it."

At one point - and some glasses of wine deeper in - she got a little bolder and outright put her hand on Arthurs on the table. And Arthur, without even stopping the conversation he was holding, took it and interlaced their fingers. Arthurs hand was cold and sweaty, but Merylin didn't mind all that much. It was quite nice, actually, to be holding his hand. It fit well in Merlins. They didn't let go before the next course was served. 

Merlin had never imagined himself in such a position. Or even, Arthur ever seeing him like that. In a dress, and with his face fully painted. 

His friends - Gwaine, Guinevere, Lancelot, to name a few -  they'd seen and known him like that, but it was different with Arthur. Even Morgana had known this side of him, after she'd snuck out with their friends one evening to visit their favourit tavern, where the owner, a lovely woman namend Dorothea, opened up a room in the back for the folk in town a little queerer than the rest. Merlin, among some others, had learned to loose all his stagefright in that room and performed there on an unregular basis. And every time word spread, that Lady Merylin - or any other of his many alias' - was in town tonight, the room was packed to the rim. They usually opened with a song (not that Merlin was a particularly gifted singer, but the bard was, and Merylin just pretended to sing - it worked out just fine), before telling some jokes, and working with the audience a little. They especially loved the made-up (or not so made-up) storys about their king, where Merylin exposed him in any way possible. They were having a ball. Another highlight of her show was the part where Merylin would do some magic tricks (maybe some real magic was or wasn't included here). These nights usually ended with some formal dancing, what turned into not-so-formal dancing in no time. 

Yet, as safe and comfortable as Merylin was inside this room, Merlin could not have in his wildest dreams imagined her outside of it. But earlier today, she even had a stroll over the marketplace. Being under the kings protections did have it perks, afterall. Just being able to walking under the sun freely, with red lips and in a nice dress, had felt liberating, as if she could truly breath for the first time. And when some man had called some nasty things when she passed, she'd just turned around and walked straight up to him, leaned down, dropped her voice low and told him the most disturbing things known to mankind, before turning around and let herself be excorted back to the castle by four men of the royal guards. If she was confident enough to do that, she surely could do four more days of pretending to be Arthurs bride.

Chapter Text

"You were saying?"

Even though Arthur did have to do a double-take when Merylin - Merlin - walked in, he did not miss the sneaky remark that came from their mouth. 

" 't was nothing."

He turned to her, not without giving her another look up and down. Gorgeous, was the word that formed in Arthur's mind, but was ignored just like this inconvenient raise of his heartbeat. "Come on, out with it."

Merlin - it clearly was Merlin - raised his brow. "I said, it's astounding how in the time it takes for me to look like this-" Merylin - and it clearly was Merylin- did a little spin aorund, before pointing a finger at him "you can't even put your armor on."

"Put that finger down", Arthur managed to command over the sound gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous ringing in his head.

Merylin dropped her hand and passed him a piece of armor. He couldn't even look her in the eye when she took her sweet time lacing the plate around his wrist, afraid she might feel his pounding heartbeat under her fingertips. 

It was too much. 

"Come on, now!" He snatched his arm away, hastily tying the strings together. 

Merylin only chuckled. 

How dare she? How. Dare. She.

It drove him mad. Merylin drove him mad. Merlin drove him mad. And not in the good way (Well, under other circumstances it might have actually been the good way, but under this specific cicumstance that was the bad way. But what was the good way and the bad way, anyway?) Clearly, Merlin must be aware what all of this did to him. 

Calling him my dear and love and darling like it was just trying on these dresses that fit him all too well. Looking at him like that and brushing their hands when they stood close enough. All those glances, and touches, and smiles, and sweet little lies. Like that wouldn't make Arthur's head spin.

Did he really think Arthur wouldn't see what he was trying to do? ( Or doing, rather, for he was succeeding. For now.) That he wouldn't notice? 

That's why he had called them here after all, not because he couldn't put on his armor on his own. He needed to set some things (including his own thoughts) straight. 

"You know-", Merylin said, "I don't get why we're even having this tournament. Just because Lady Amara's visiting? We didn't do anything like that for the last, like, six Ladys." She paused for a second, trying to catch a glimpse of Arthur's face. "It's not like you're trying to impress her. Or ... do you?"

"Of course not!", he said, maybe a little too fast, as he turned to fully face her. "I'm just trying to show her some hospitality."

"Hospitality?" She smirked. "So that's what we're calling it?"

"Yes, it is. She is a powerful ally, afterall. Maybe if oneday I choose to get married, she'd still be interested. And even if not, it'd be nice to have a friend in her. Politics is all about strategy. Not that you'd know any about it."

"So you are trying to impress her."

This person really only ever heard what they wanted to hear. 

"You can admit it if you like her! I won't tell anyone."

Arthur put his hands on each side of her arms, left and right. He hold her gaze. "How about you just shut up and do your job." 

For a moment she only looked at him, with a spark in Merlins blue eyes. "That's no way to talk to your fiancé."

Immediately, Arthur dropped his hands and took a step back. "You are not my fiancé," he reminded (himself). "You're just Merlin."

To his surprise, Merylin took a step forward, now standing closer before him again. Looking at him, the spark in their eyes ever growing, leaving Arthur wondering what was going on behind it. "Right."

He could feel the breath of the word touch his skin.

"Right", he said, trying his best to not let his gaze fall down on those lips, which were very red and just looked really kissable -  oh damn it, he had looked down. He adverted his gaze to the side.

"Right." Their smile was audible enough, he didn't need to see it. 

He jumped, when the door was torn open, and Morgana strided in, Lady Amara on her heels. 

"... I'm sure, they're still in here", her voice came, as she took a look around, her eyes falling on the two of them, still standing uncomfortably close together. "Now, are you ready, or do you two lovebirds still need some private time?"

"No, we were just finished talking, right, dearest?", came from Merylins mouth, before Arthur even had the chance to respond. "Here is your sword." She handed him the weapon, once again standing too close for comfort, before leaning even further in and having the nerve to press a kiss on his cheek. "Don't get yourself killed", she whispered in his ear. 

Arthur grabbed her ellbow. "Won't", he pressed, fighting the red flash that was surley creeping up his neck. "Now be sweet and go sit with the other Ladys."

Merylins eyes widened at that, pupils dilated, mouth dropping open. A smile tugged at Arthurs mouth. That's right, he thought in a sudden change of mind, two can play that game. And he surely wouldn't let Merlin win. That's what he got for toying with him like that. He let go of their arm.  

Arthur bit his lip, as the ever growing pressure of the presence of both his sister and his visitor came back down hard on him. He turned to see Morgana, with a content smile on her face, opening her arms to welcome Merylin. "Come on, now. It's going to be a long afternoon."

They left, but not without Merylin sending him another funny glance over their shoulder. She was definitely up to something. 

Morgana kept being right. The afternoon came to last longer than any other afternoon Arthur could remember in the passing years. Maybe the afternoon did that only not to offend Morgana, afraid of her vegeance if it proved her wrong. 

Usually, Arthur enjoyed those tournaments, the rush of adrenalin in a fight, the roaring of the spectators for every well-landed blow and every one of his glorious victories. Normally, he lived for the applause, letting the ecstasy carry him through one battle to the next. But today, it all just felt exhausting. The sword heavy in his hand, the air hot under his helmet and his body slick with sweat. The excecution of his movements was sloppy, the wins were scarse.

And there was just one single person to blame for that. 

Not only, that Merlin wasn't there to tend to him between the fights, but Arthur's thoughts just kept on wandering. How did it come, that he was so adjust with a dress? Why did he take no offense in any of what they asked of him? 

Arthur had heard of men, with very peculiar taste and curious ways of spending their free time, but Merlin surely wasn't one of them. He knew that some of these men took special interest in other men, in a way that one might take in a woman. Arthur could understand that to a certain level, because he could see what one might draw to a man. They were easy on the eye. In a different way, then women were, of course. But given a knight, for example, well trained, with broad shoulders yet slimber limbs, who you know had some strenght in him; or one of those noblemen, good mannered  with well trimmed hair and nails, and soft skin and soft features, who walked all elegant and could charm anyone with their talk - there was something about them, Arthur couldn't deny that. Yet, he was fairly sure everyone felt that way. And he, personally, would never-

And Merlin wouldn't either, right?

Then again, Arthur had never known of any woman that Merlin took particular interest in. And he had known him for quite some time now. Merlin could not have kept something like that secret from him. Then again, he must have had ... impulses, right? Arthur could not imagine Merlin keeping celibacy in all those years. But he could not imagine him with a woman on his arm - or in his bed - either (And why was he thinking about Merlin, and what he did in his bed, and with whom, again?). He did spend an awful lot of his time in that tavern. Maybe he met with women, there?

Or maybe he met with men, and that's why Arthur never knew of anyone fond to him. He let himself indulge in that thought for a while. Maybe Merlin is in a relationship, was in one, all along. And Arthur just never knew. Somehow, that thought of Merlin, having someone waiting on him after the end of a day, that was even worse to Arthur. It was nagging on him, not because he kept something big like that secret from him. No, it was something entirely else, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. 

But what would someone even see in Merlin? He was no trained knight and no charming nobleman. Sure, he had a good face, and his shoulders had widened these past years. His body must have a certain shape under his loose clothes from all that physical labor, mucking the stables and carrying water. He had that porcellain skin, on which the sun drew freckles each summer, that raven hair of his that suited him well, matched nicely with his deep-water blue eyes one might jump and drown in. He was kind, Arthur gave him that, and brave and loyal. He hadn't become a half-bad fighter in all this years by his side but would always choose delicasy over violence. He was a good man. (And he was very dear to Arthur, even if he would not admit that, not even to himself.)

Arthur mounted his steed and took the red rose the stablehand hold up to him (not because he was making advances at his king, of course, but for the tradition of the fighters to hand the flower to their favoured lady). Arthur twisted the stem between his fingers, once, twice, watched some petals fall to the dusty ground. It would been most polite to present it to Lady Amara, she was his visitor afterall (and probably also his favourite lady, given the options). But then again, 'Lady Merylin' was 'his queen-to-be', and even though it would not offend her (or, rather, she was not allowed to be offended), if he gave the rose to Lady Amara, it may confuse their visitor, as for why the king would not gift his betrothed this sign of affection. He could hand the rose to Morgana as well, she was his sister and everyone loved a nod to a strong family bond within the royal family (not to strong, she was his sister, afterall). 

The fanfares began to play and he spurred his horse on into the arena, galopping around once, for all to get a good look at their golden king, before coming to a halt infront of the part of the tribune, where the Ladys were sitting. His heart pounded in somewhat of exitement (he must got himself exhausted, for he was fighting so hard). He looked over all the Ladys once more - Amara, Morgana, Merylin. Merylin, Morgana, Amara, Morgana - and handed the rose to Merylin with a wink of his eye (for what ever reason he did that for). In a smooth motion he lowered the front part of his helmet, while the crowd roared, but missed neither the faint blush on Merylins face beneath all that powder, nor the smug grin on Morganas. He had no idea what she was so happy about. He rounded the arena once more, in the time his final opponent - Sir Gwaine - entered, and gave his own rose to Lady Amara. It appeared, that for once in his life, the man proved that the actually was capable of making smart choices.

Arthurs horse, a black stallion with the name Diabolo, tossed his head up and down, as Arthur urged him to a halt beside the wooden barrier in the middle of the arena, seperating the contestants. 

"You be good now", he reached down to pet his neck, before taking the lance that was handed to him. 

Diabolos ears locked forwards, when Gwaine rode up on the other side, accepting his weapon. The stallions muscles tensed, urging to run. 

Arthur held him back, raising his lance. Once more, the fanfares sounded, and he let the horse go. His hooves drummed on the ground like distant thunder. Wind whipped hard around Arthurs helmet, bringing tears to his eyes. He squinted, aiming the lance at his opponent. 

They met halfway. Arthur hold on a little tighter, prepared for the impact. It didn't come. He straightened his shoulder, puffed his chest, raised his lance, while he slowed Diabolo down to a walk.

The audience was celebrating. They were celebrating him, raised from their seats, shouting and clapping. He took a look around, looked at all these excited faces. Arthur opened the visor of his helmet with a smile. He must have knocked Gwaines lance off, it laid on the dusty ground to the side of the track. But Gwaine was still sitting on his horse, a brave bay mare with a white star between her eyes and three white feet, which he had borrowed from Lancelot, after his own horse lost a shoe right his morning. So they lined up for another round. 

Arthur looked around once more, feeling the thrill of a fight, this high he had missed all morning. He found the Ladys, and Merylin, standing up and ... cheering him on? Waving with that rose, shouted something Arthur couldn't hear, but made Morgana and Amara laugh. Suddenly, Arthurs face felt warm and he quickly lowered the visor again and got into position. Diabolo stomped his front hoof, eager to go. 

"Easy there, boy", Arthur said, thinking of Merylins cheering and raised the lance again. Focus. At the sound of the trumpets, he urged Diabolo forward. 

This time, both of them lost their lances. 

He shook the giddy feeling off and accepted his lance. One more time. It was counting, now. With a firm grip on his weapon, he spurred Diabolo on. Gwaine held his lance lower than before, he noticed. Arthur tried to adjust, but it was too late. He felt the impact of the lance against his breastplate, sending the shock through to his spine. Next thing he knew, he was landing hard on the ground, knocking his head. Then he blacked out. 

A gentle (or not so gentle, he couldn't quite place it) slap to his cheek brought light back to his vision. 

He groaned and slightly lifted his head, supported by the touch of a gentle and warm hand in his neck. "Did I win?"

"No," he didn't even have to fully open his eyes, because he could place the sound of that laugh in any life. "Gwaine knocked that royal arse of yours right off the saddle and onto the ground."

"Ugh", was the only sound, that managed to escape his mouth as he let himself fall back down to wherever it was, that he was laying and into Merlins touch, that lingered longer, than it probably should. He didn't mind.

Chapter Text

"And you are really not joining us today? But you're like - one of Camelots best knights."

"You can say I am the best," Gwaine smiled, leaning against the stable walls. "Proved that just yesterday."

 "I'll say it then," Merlin stepped closer, placed his hand on the mans arm. "You are the finest knight in Camelot, Gwaine."

He watched him grow a little taller under his words of affection. Gwaine was a charmer through and through, but Merlin knew how much his friend apprechiated being on the receiving end of such flattery from time to time. 

"Mhhm," he hummed and leaned in a little closer. Then raised his hand to tuck a strand of Merylins long hair behind their ear. "I always knew that would be my downfall one day."

"How would that be your downfall?"

He straightened back up, leaving both of them a little more space to breath. "Well, at least I think that's the reason why your lovely groom-to-be has uninvited me from this hunting-trip. Who would've thought our dear princess is such a sore looser?"

"Everyone knows that."

Again, Gwaine leaned his shoulder against the wall besides him. "Do you think I should've let him win?"

"Yes, absolutely, you should've."

Gwaine huffed. "And there I was, wanting to let him win fair and square."

"But he didn't win. That's the problem." 

"I see that know. But I can't help that I'm better than him."

Merlin thought about the other day. "He seemed distracted."

"Are you saying I'm not better than him?"

"No. I'm just saying he seemed distracted."

Gwaine looked him over suspiciously, before waving it off as if it was not more than a mere fly. "Anyway. Now I'm missing out on the hunting trip with lovely Lady Amara."

A sigh. "I wish I could be missing out on it as well-"

His words were overpowered by a loud shout of his name that echoed through the castle courtyard. That could mean only one thing - Arthur was on his way.

He looked at Gwaine again, and resumed. "I'm really not looking foward to it."

"MERLIN!" came again, much closer already this time.

Gwaine pushed himself off the wall, now standing closer again. "Look forward to meeting me then. Later? I'll be waiting for you."

Merlin swatted at his chest, but smiled. "Fine. But don't say that too loud, you'll be getting us in trouble."

With a smile, Gwaine made his way to the threshold, where Arthur almost ran into him. They stood infront of each other for a brief moment, before Gwaine lifted his hands defensly, and stepped aside. 

"There you are," Arthur said to Merlin, once he saw him. "You, me. A word. Now."

"I was just leaving anyways", Gwaine said, which earned him an impatiant glance from the king. 

"Go on, then."

"But before I go, I just wanted to say" (Arthur sighed) "because I know, he won't say it" (Arthur raised a brow) "Lady Merylin, you look absolutly magnificent."

Merlin raised his hands to cover his face, trying to conceal the blush he felt heating his neck.

Arthur looked between them, once, twice, arms crossed. "So she gets a compliment. Where's mine, then?"

"Oh. Uhm." Gwaine looked him up and down. Nodded. "Handsome as ever, Your Majesty."

Arthurs jaw dropped, as if he thought Gwaine wouldn't go through with it. (What would've been an incredibly foolish thing to believe. But then again, Arthur was a big fool, afterall.)

The man smiled, bowed and waved, before he said: "I'll be on my way then."

Arthur visibly gulped, closing his fist and streching his fingers open frequently. "This man is going to make me see red one day."

The only thing Merlin saw going red in that moment were Arthurs cheeks, but he promptly decided not to comment on that, and instead asked: "What is it then, you needed to tell me so urgent, that made you yell my actual name so loud, for the whole of your kingdom to hear?"

He had no idea where the confidence to speak to his king in that tone came from. Not, that Merlin had ever favoured a decent tone with Arthur, but such disrespect put him in danger to end up in the stocks. But Merylin had never been in the stocks, so she was alot bolder than he was. 

"Right-" Arthur paced up and down, touching a finger to his forehead, obviously trying to recollect himself. Gwaine's little compliment must have thrown him. (It really had.) "First, no mention of the previous day. Understood?"

"Got it."

"Second, no being clumsy on purpose to scare the animals away. I know you do that."

There was no point in fighting this accusation. That was something Merlin did. Frequently and on purpose. "Alright."

"And most importantly" Arthur raised his finger and pointed to Merlins chest. "No moaning about hunting."

"But I hate it. And you know that!"

"My fiancé" he tapped his finger against Merlins collarbone now, exposed by Merylins low-cut dress. "would never moan about hunting!"

"You make her moan for another reason, she might stop it!"

It was the moment that Arthur almost choked on his own saliva, when Merlin truly registered, what in the world had just come out of his mouth. He froze. 

Arthur came closer, tilted his head and looked at him. "What did you just say?"

After a gulp, and with goosebumps on his arms, he took a deep breath and said, very quietly, and with a deeper tone than anticipated: "I said, you make her moan for another reason, she might stop it."

Arthurs breath was deep, heaving his chest and shoulders up and down. He was so close now, Merlin could acutally smell him. The soap Merlin washes his hair with and one for his clothes and bedsheet. The scent of burning ashes from the fireplace in his chambers, mixing with the leather from his boots and jacket and a little sweat. Suddenly, his mouth felt dry. As he went to wet his lips, Arthurs eyes went wide.

Merlin didn't know what would happen next. (But he had an idea. He thought Arthur might lean into this very little space that still separated them and kiss him. Because that was what the last few men did that looked at him like Arthur did look at him at that very moment. But he didn't. Because-)

Someone cleared their throat behind them. It was one of the stableboys (the blonde one, who also had looked at Merlin like that in the past, but this is beyond the point, right now), who stood there in clear discomfort, hands clasped behind his back. "The horses are ready, Milord." He hurried away as soon as he had spoken, before Merlin or Arthur could've even begin to explained themselves. (To be fair, Merlin would have had no idea how to explain what just had happened, even if given the time to think it over. Even his great talent and ability to make up excuses for silly situation ended somewhere.)

Arthur blinked rapidly, probably also still trying to process what just had -almost- happened. Then he just looked up and walked away. For a moment, Merlin watched him go. Then he remembered, he had to get to the horses well and hurried after his king.

"Arthur!", Merlin yelled after him, but the man was already mounted on his horse, not even bothering to look in his direction. What a prat, Merlin thought. Ready to go all in one minute, putting on his pokerface the next. 

Without much notice, Merlin took the reins that where handed to him by the stableboy, ignoring the smug smile on the young mans face. What a coward. Did Arthur really think, he could lead him on like this? He had probably been only bluffing, that moment would've not lead to anything more that it did. This was all just a game to him. He had told him so himself. Merlin had to remember that.

But why had he done it in private then? That's what had Merlin confused. And annoyed, because he knew better than to get his hopes up. And curious, because he would like to see where this could go. And a little ashamed, maybe, because he would do it again.

Merylins dress got tangeled when she mounted her horse (Merylin has done lots of things in a dress, but never ridden a horse, so it should have come as no surprise, that the process of getting on the horses' back might pose a problem). With an exhausted sigh (seems as Merylin knew how to do that naturally, she was a Lady afterall and nobility was born with exhaustion in their blood, waiting to be released in form of sighs, gestures and obscure movements - at least that's what one might think, after studying Arthur's behaviour for a prolonged amount of time), she pulled on the fabric until it gave in - and tore apart almost an armslenght, from her foot to her calve (the curse that almost escaped her mouth, would've not been ladylike at all).

"You look like you had a bad morning."

Merylin looked up to see Morgana, sitting on her horse beside them. Wearing her fighting gear, tight leather shirt over her tunic that hugged her curves, and comfortable riding breeches. A way better choice than Merylin had made this morning. 

"My brother's been giving you hell?"

Hell and sweet eyes, Merlin thought, shooting Arthur a look. He must have noticed his glance, because he turned his head and smiled. Merlin returned his smile, because how on earth could one ever not to return this kind of smile, soft-eyed and genuine, crinkles forming around his eyes, making him look ten times more handsome - until he noticed Arthur's smile wasn't adressed at him, but Lady Amara, who rode up to Arthurs side. No torn piece of fabric hanging down the side of her horse. 

Lovely Lady Amara. If there was a single bone in Merlins body that was only slightly attracted to women, he thought, he'd probably swoon about her as much as anyone else in this court (but there wasn't.). Even Guinevere, sweet as can be on her Lancelot, had not missed to remark the Lady's kind-hearted nature and magnificient physique.

Merlin swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. "You can't imagine."

"Oh, don't be in a sour mood, dear. I'm sure we'll have plenty fun today," she said happily as they urged their horses forward to follow behind Arthur and Amara, surrounded by the typical small flock of knights, that always followed their regent anywhere, soon as he left the castlewalls. 

"Sure." Merlin couldn't wait.

The hunting trip turned out to be pretty uneventful. Arthur scored some bigger game, two deers, show-off that he is, Lady Amara brought another one down, a clean shot straight to the animals heart. Arthur praised her excellent shooting skills, leaving Merylin and Morgana rolling their eyes. Morgana herself scored a rabbit, which Merylin thought was way more impressive than a deer, given the much smaller size of the animal.

Merylin had hoped that maybe a quiet moment would arise, where they and Arthur could... well, could do what? Talk? Disappear behind some tree and shove their tongue in each others throaths - continue on, where they have left off in the stables? Anyhow, there had been no such moment. So Merylin kept quiet most of the day (which was unusual, for both Merlin and Merylin, but neither Arthur nor Morgana adressed it). But Amara must have noticed, as she rode up to their side, when the hunting party had already turned to make their way back home.

"I love riding in the forest," she said, offering Merylin a kind smile. "Do you enjoy hunting?"

Merylin kept her eyes fixed on the Pendragon sibligs, riding up ahead of them. "Not that much, no."

A moment of silence. "I figured. Given you didn't even bring a weapon."

Merylin had not brought a weapon, that was true. But Amara mustn't to know that she didn't even knew how to handle one. As nobility, she probably should. "Well, I don't really enjoy killing innocent animals for sport, you see."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Amara nod. She had only trying to be kind. 

"But I do enjoy the forest," Merylin said for ease, "home of all the plants and animals." (For as long as they were let to live, at least)

"Then you must ride together often," Amara replied, "King Arthur seems to enjoy a good hunting trip."

The thought of the countless days and nights spend with Arthur in the wilderness brought a smile to their face. "I do accompany him alot of times, yes. Maybe even spend more time in this forest than I'd like to."

Their smile was mirrored on Amaras face. "The things one does for love, hm?"

For a moment, Merylin stilled. The things one does for love. Then they plastered the smile back on their face. "Right."

The things one does for love.

"He seems kind."

"Hm?" (Merlin wasn't quite over the things one does for love yet.)

"King Arthur. He seems like a kind man."

"Arthur, he... he's..." Once again, their eyes were glued on the back of the man. "He's an idiot, acutally."

Amara's eyes widened in surprise at that. So Merylin continued. "He's incredibly stubborn, you know. Can never admit when he's wrong. Can't stand the thought of being defeated in - literally anything. He specifically told me not to mention his loss of the jousting competition yesterday."

The Lady's face turned into an amused smile. 

 "He's just so... incredibly proud." Merylin tried to push down that warm funny feeling in their stomach, that painted a smile on her face. "But he's also ... just. And caring. And ambitious and couragoues. And..." Wonderful. "He's a good man. And a great king."

Amara caught Merylins gaze. "And I see how you'll be a great queen for him."

For a moment, Merylin had forgotten the role they were playing, but managed to reframe her face quickly. "Thank you", she replied shyly.

By the time, they had closed up to Arthur and Morgana, who had stopped their horses and waited for them by the trail junction. 

"We will split up from here," Arthur announced. "Morgana and Merylin, you two will be happy to head back home, we will see you at dinner tonight, and I will not hear any excuses about one of you being late. In the meantime, I will accompany the Lady Amara to the other part of the forest, that she'd requested to see."

Merylin raised her brows, but was too exhausted to object. Left at Morgana's side and with a bitter taste in their mouth. 

They rode in relative silence, at least for a while, and Merylin was glad about it. Just hearing the sound of the horses hooves on the soft ground, the wisperings of the forest and quiet singing of some birds. For a moment, it all felt peaceful. 

Only when they could see the fortresses' walls again, Morgana spoke up. "So, do you think we can expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?"

"Why, do you think Arthur's actually going to marry Lady Amara?" Merylin looked up to the clouds, scolding themselves for the feeling that nagged at them at nothing more than the mere thought of it. Amara was nice, and maybe this whole messy state of permanent courtship at Camelot would finally come to an end with it. There was nothing to object.

"No, silly." Morgana laughed. "I think my brother has found a liking in the wonderful Lady Merylin."

"Don't be ridiculous, Morgana."

A big, broad, honest smile spread across her face. "You should see the way he looks at you when he thinks noone's watching."

"Morgana-", they sighed.

"Also - the rose?"

Of course, Merylin had been flattered when Arthur had handed her this sign of affection. But they would be wrong to interpret more into it than there actually was. "He was only playing his part, you know that, right?"

The grin hasn't left Morganas face. "You keep telling yourself that, hm?"

Merylin didn't answer and let a comfortable silence settle between them. 

"May I ask you something?", Morgana spoke up again after a while. She looked as in deep in thought. 

"You may."

A moment passed, before Morgana settled on a way to phraze her question. "Who is Merylin?"

The adressed tilted their head. "I'm ... Merylin?"

"No, I know that, but, who is Merylin, to you?" She looked back up. "Is she... just a character you play? Or, more than that?"

Merlin thought about it for a moment. "She is -- part of me. Just like -- Merlin. She's not just a character, no. She's more than that, she's -- she's real."

Morgana didn't interrupt them, when they searched for the right words to describe how they felt. 

"I am -- just as much Merlin, as I am Merylin. They -- they both... exist at the same time."

"So, is it one or the other?"

"No, not really. It's just that some days, I feel more like Merlin, and others more like Merylin. But it's still me. It is always - I." It feld oddly relieving to talk about it. "And I like it, that way. Honestly? I think I'd miss it, if it were else. Because Merlin's ... just... Merlin, you know? But Merylin? Merylin - she's everything. She can be anything. A peasant woman, a sorceress, a farmer, an entertainer, a singer, a dancer, a Lady, a physician. She can be anything." Anything, but free. 

Morgana considered their words, before she asked: "But can she be a queen?"

Merylin clenched their teeth. There was no peace in entertaining such thoughts. "I don't know, and there is no reason in why she should ever be." There was no freedom for women like Merylin. And no prospect of queenhood either.

"I'm not so sure about that," Morgana said. "She might have to."

Merylin waved her words off, determined not to let them get to close to their heart.

"Anyway," Morgana dismounted and handed the reins to one of the stablehands that had hurried to their sides. "Wear a pretty dress tonight, I'm introducing you to my Lady."

Ungracefully, Merylin slid off the saddle as well, coming to stand next to her. "Lessons in sorcery, hm?"

Morgana smiled. "Well, she is in town..."

"Don't let me hold you up, then. I learned it's considered rude to keep a Lady waiting."

With gleaming eyes, Morgana pressed a kiss to Merylins cheek, before she hurried away. "I'll see you later!"

After successfully hiding Morganas own affiliation to magic from Uther, Arthur had allowed her to be taught by the high-priestess Morgause how to control her magic. Simultaneously gaining knowledge about Magic and the Old Religion, hoping to once join forces with the magical community in Camelot.  As much about Arthurs plan. 

Merlin was content with that, hoping he can reveal his own magic to him, once magic is not only decriminalized, but legalized. Everyone else had figured him out by now anyways, but Arthur was just too big of a buffoon for that. Either he didn't recognize or just blantly ignored his manservants magical tendencies. Just as he did with the tender bond that had formed between Morgana and her teacher. But then again, Arthur usually didn't catch up on alot of things. 

Merlin had always enjoyed teaching Morgana how to direct her magic, but Morgause was more profound in the ways of the Old Religion and therefore could help her better casting spells and browing portions, or whatever it was these priestesses did with their magic. Even though, Merlin did wonder if Morgause had actually taught her any spells, or if by now Morgana was just proficient in how to spell the priestesses' name with her tounge.  

By the way back to their chambers, Merylin passed Gaius, who hurried towards them. "Merlin- Merylin", he said and quickly corrected himself. "It's good you're back already. There's -- company waiting for you in your chambers. I just wanted to inform you, that I'll be out gathering herbs until late."

Merlin smiled. "There's no need for additional breakfast. He won't be staying."

Gaius nodded. It was their special arrangement, ever since there had been one evening with a walk-in (wasn't that bad, because both he and his company had still been fully-dressed), and another morning with some need for talking (was worse, because Merlin and his company has not been as quiet and Gaius has not been as asleep as Merlin had thought), Gaius was out gathering herbs and Merlin informing him, whether or not the occasion was going to be an overnight arrangement. 

"Kid," Gaius took Merylins sleeve and tugged on it, when they went to hurry along. Merylin turned to face him. "You be careful like that, you hear me?" With a gentle hand, he cupped Merylins cheek. Love painted over the old man's face, but still letting his concern shimmer through to the surface. "Right now you're under the king's protection, but you won't always be."

Merylin felt their heart growing heavy, fearing it may fall to the ground, but knew it was locked savely behind the cave of their ribs. "Am I ever not to be careful?"

It has been a lifetime of being careful. It had been a lifetime of considering. Of who to let know about their magic, of their attraction to men,  their true expression of self. It had been a lifetime of hiding. Hiding bits and parts, just for the sake of being safe and staying alive. It had been exhausting. It had been lonely. 

They had been alone for a long time. 

"Hello there, gorgeous!" Gwaine greeted, when they entered the room.

But Merlin wasn't alone anymore.

Gwaine, streched out on Merlins bed, lowered the book he was holding, placing it on the table by his side. The man had never read more than two passages in his entire life, so he'd probably just wanted to look more intellectual for when Merlin came in, leaving him wonder just how long Gwaine has been waiting here for him. 

"You know," he said, swinging his legs out of bed and walking over . "I was actually looking forward to see my handsome man-friend, but I don't think he'll mind if I help a pretty Lady out of her dress while I'm waiting."

Merlin groaned, but smiled. "My butt hurts," he started complaining while kicking off his shoes. He had no idea how Morgana could bear walking in heels all day. "And my feet do too."

"Why? You've been running to your far-away living secret lover you didn't tell me about?"

"No, silly," with a roll of his eye, he looked over his shoulder, where Gwaine loosened the strings of his corset. Gwaine and him - they had never been true to each other, but they had always been real. "From sitting on a horse all day. In a dress."

"You did tear it there in the front, did you notice?"

"Yes. It's a nasty tear."

"Gwen won't be too happy about that." 

"It's mine, actually. Made that one on my own."

"Really?" Gwaine stepped to the side and looked him over once more. "That's nice work. Very impressive."

Merlin let the dress slip to the ground and shoved it to the side with his foot, taking his regular clothes that Gwaine handed him. "Thank you."

"Did she teach you?"

Merlin put his shirt over his head after hopping into his trousers. "My mother did, back in Ealdor when I was still a kid." He moved over to wash the powder and colour off his face. "But Gwen helped me alot, when I picked sewing back up."

"And I was starting to wonder who tipped you so generously that you could afford all those nice new dresses."

"Noone, unfortunatly." Merlin moved over to sit on his bed, leaning agaist the frame. "And my day to day job doesn't pay for it, unfortunatly. Even if I do work extra hours these days."

"About that-" Gwaine moved to sit with him, placing Merlins feet in his lap. "I wanted to talk to you about .. all of it. How you are feeling with that, with everyone seeing, and knowing and -- I know it is kind of my fault. I brought it up, without talking to you in the first place, checking in if you'd be even comfortable with it. I overstepped. I should not have done that, and I need to apologize to you. I can't undo it and I'm not asking for forgiveness, but I am here for you, always. You know that."

"Sure. It's fine. Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

Gwaine watched him for a moment. "But you don't seem to be fine." He gently started to massage his sore feet and calves (in a very non-sexual way. Merlin was not into that. Oddly enough, as he sure had an eye for men - or rather, a man - who stepped all over him and treated him like a doormat). "What is it?"

Merlin leaned even further back, resting his head against the wall. "Lady Amara has been stressing me out."

"Really? She seemed nice."

"She... She's just -- perfect. She's nice, and kind, and pretty, and smart. And she's mannered, and knows which spoon to take at what time at dinner. And she likes hunting. And competitions. She is ..just -- perfect."

"And I still fail to see the problem."

"Well, I'm--", not. I am ..just Merlin."supposed to be - play Arthur's perfect fiancé. But how could I keep up with her?"

Gwaine stopped his hands and rested them on Merlins shins. "Why would you think you have to?"

"Otherwise, there is no reason why Arthur would choose Merylin over Lady Amara. This whole thing will blow up."

"You know, Merlin... The thing about love is -- that it's not always reasonable." He watched him intently. "And for what it's worth, I think there a plenty of reasons to choose you." 

Merlins stomach twisted a little at his words.

A gentle smile washed over his friends face. "But I don't think, your problem's Amara. I think your problem lies elsewhere."

"Do you?"

"Yeah. Do you know what I think?" He lowered his voice to no more than a hush. "I think, you're still not over him."

They had been over this. Multiple times. Merlin exhaled, until there wasn't no more air left for his lungs to relieve. "I don't have to be over him, because I was never into him!"

"And you have never been under him, behind him, on top or in front of him either, and that's why it's been all about him, for a long time now."

Merlin had no response to that. (Because it was true. All of it. Except for the part where he said, he was never into Arthur. That was a lie. A lie he had told himself over and over since he had met the man.)

"Do you want my advice? Do it. Just once, so you can leave him behind."

Merlin groaned and let himself sink into the cushions. "That would probably evoke more problems than it would resolve."

"Really? Works for me everytime. Like a charm- hey!"

He was almost falling out of bed, swaying close to the edge of the small matress, when Merlin gently kicked him into his ribs. "Can consider myself lucky then, that you're still here."

"You know you're special to me, sweetheart", he said and let himself fall into the bed beside Merlin. A tight squeeze, but they made it fit. Gently, he laid his arm over Merlins shoulder and pulled him close.

Merlin rested his head against Gwaines chest.

"What do you even have to loose?", Gwaine wispered in his ear, nose brushing against Merlins hair. 

He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth that radiated from his friends body. "Everything." 

Gwaine squeezed his shoulders. "You're being dramatic."

If Merlin would made advances at Arthur, and Arthur wasn't pleased with that, Merlin might as well loose his position at court, his home in Camelot, his friends, and all that was dear to in his life. But he most definitly would loose Arthur. His best friend. His destiny.

It was not a risk worth taking. Merlins place was at Arthur's side, as his servant. 

"I'm not. Also, you keep forgetting there are men who don't enjoy the company of another man."

"Yeah, that's an odd thing you say there, because I don't remeber ever meeting one of those."

Merlin chuckled. "Gwaine."

"It's true. But Arthur? The way he looks at some of the knights sometimes? Princess is definitly into it. Or, enjoying the view at least. Question is, does he recognized that yet? We both know he's as sharp about these things like a spoon."

"Either way, I'm not here to help him to find out."

"Are you sure?" He felt Gwaines eyes glued to his face. "You can't tell me you never thought about it."

He couldn't. Because yes, he had thought about it. Yes, he had thought about Arthur. 

He had thought about him when he was drunkenly kissing a guy who had looked a little like him through blurry eyes. 

He had thought about him when he went down to his knees. 

And yes, it had been embarassing when he had moaned his name by accident, hands buried deep in blonde hair and blue eyes looking up at him widened in surprise. 

"Maybe I have."

"Maybe? Oh, come on. You two've been dancing around each other since the day I've met you."

It would've been easier if it all wasn't so blantly obvious to everyone around them. "We've been stepping on each other's toes, that's more like it."

"No, I'm not stupid, Merlin. I know what I saw. Am seeing. The tension between you two is - unbearable sometimes."

"You tell me," he wispered, more to himself than Gwaine, nestling a bit more into his embrace. Because everything outside this room was so complicated, but this - this right here- was simple. It was nice. "Can we please not talk about it for a bit?"

Gwaine reached for the blanket and wrapped it around their bodies. "Sure."

Chapter Text

"And we need flowers", Morgana said. "Loads of flowers. I want flowers everywhere. And the table should be layed with the fine plates - the one with the golden rim? You know which one. And tell them to serve the good wine. I'm thinking something similar to what we had last solstice? Also, musicians. There needs to be music, Arthur! I want to see people dancing. That should be kept in mind when setting the tables. We need space. And for dinner, I imagined-"

Arthur rested his chin in his hand, not listening to Morgana ramble on about tonights festivites. Why she was so into it, he didn't know. But for some reason she decided that this particular evening had to become her personal dream and with that making it Arthurs' personal nightmare. 

"Morgana", he interrupted her, because he couldn't, and would not want to, remember the whole of the long list of last minute changes she requested, "how about I'll just hand you the reins and you take over on this? Plan what- and however you want it to be." Just leave me alone with it.

She stopped pacing up and down his chambers, and looked at him in surprise. "Really?"

"Oh yes."

"To what do I own the generosity?"

"My general generosity and great trust in your ability to make this the evening of-" your "-our dreams."

She smiled. "I won't let you down."

With a smile forced on his lips he watched her hurry away. "You better don't."

The belltower struck half the hour. It was almost time for the talking. Arthur wasn't looking forward to it. 

Each time a Lady visited Camelot, days always followed the same pattern. A great welcoming, two to three days of fun and games, then, the talking part- which usually included meandering through the castle or the castles gardens, exchanging some courtesies, before being proposed the prospect of a potential union through marriage. By an unnerved Lady, who wouldn't want to wait longer for Arthur to propose. And Arthur, friendly declining the offer. An awkward dinner party to make it to the next morning, in which the rejected Lady would depart from Camelot once more. 

These intimate one on one talks, in which the Lady would tell Arthur about his extraordinary court, how greatly she enjoyed her stay, and what wonderful a man he is - Arthur hated it. He hated these fake niceties. Hated how the Ladys were oblieged to win him over. Hated how he had to reject them every time. Hated how everyone wanted him to just pick one already and get married (for the sake of all of us).

But he couldn't. He couldn't. He could not marry a woman who he had only met three days ago. How could he ever decide to spend the rest of his life with a person he barely knew? What if it turned out, after a year, or a half, that he could not stand them? Or rather, they could not stand him, once they got to know him truly? 

He wished there was someone who already knew him truly, all his, not flaws, but particularities, and would still choose to stay with him. Someone Arthur could wholeheartedly connect with, someone who he could trust. Someone with whom he could safely fall in love with. 

A Lady like Merylin. Someone he trusted, and who can make him laugh, and feel warm and flushed, and would never tell him anything but the truth despite his status, and would never leave him, no matter the challenges they'd have to face. Someone who kept him right. 

Unfortunatly, there wasn't. And there would never be someone quite like Merylin. 

So it was a good thing that Arthur was perfectly fine on his own. 

Also, he wasn't alone - there was always Merlin, whom he could complain to about it. 

He had missed Merlin these days. He did right now, if he was being honest. Not only because he had to keep his chambers clean (what he didn't do anyway), but he had missed his company. He always felt like he could rule his kingdom from this very room if it was just Merlin by his side. 

What an odd thing that was. To be so adjust to a person's presence to only notice the comfort in it once they were absent. Like one only misses the sun once the days turn cold and bleak. 

He'd never dwelled much on the nature of their relationship. Merlin came into his life as his servant, but - as much as Arthur had denied it before him and the world - he'd become his friend, someone Arthur had considered a trustworthy advisor, very early on. And he had been his only real friend for a long time. But what it was that connected them - that was more than just mere friendship. There was this invisible thread that tied them to each other, as if their hearts and faits were intertwined. Soulmates, one might say. Companions for life, that's for sure. 

Arthur grabbed the red cloak that was still draped over the chair where he left it the evening before. He'd really need to get on Merlin to clean his room, it was a mess. With fingers trembeling more than he'd like them to, he closed the broche in front of his sternum and got going. 

The hallways were already bustling with life, servants hurrying around, preparing for the feast this evening. Thinking of all of Morgana's requests, he felt a pinch of sympathy for them. Merlin but be so happy to be out of duty today. 

Lady Amara waited for him on one of the castles many balconys, overlooking the castle grounds. He had already spotted her through the windows. Once again, he noticed how beautiful she was. Her dark curls shining in the sun like liquid obsidian (quite similar to Merylins, the morning they rode into the forest, he remembered), features soft yet steady, and dressed in gown that rather resembled a piece of art than clothing. And yet- 

And yet Arthur felt nothing. Felt nothing for her. There was no longing, no desire. No wish to be touched by her, no wish to feel her kiss on his skin. For a moment, there was this flying spark of a thought, telling him that there must be something wrong with him, to not want like that. He had never truly wanted, had never layed eyes on a woman and desired her. He knew about their beauty and admired it like he'd admire an aurorian sky, and could see the beauty in a man all the same, but he had never wanted. 

All he had ever wanted was conversations streched deep into the night, rooms filled with laughter and eyes filled with trust. And maybe then, his heart would open up to love. However, this was neither the time nor the place to entertain thoughts that kept him up long til after midnight. 

Amara turned to greet him with a smile, when he stepped outside to meet her. 

"King Arthur", she said with a small nod, "I'm grateful you could spare the time to meet with me."

"Of course, Mylady." 

He touched the cold brink of the stone ballustrade before him, letting the wind get ahold of his hair and his eyes wander over his kingdom, before meeting her waiting gaze again.

"I wanted to thank you once more, for acompaning me to the Lake of Avalon the other day. It truly meant a lot to me."

Arthur shifted from one foot to another, not really knowing how to reply. He couldn't have denied her that favour, especially after hearing the story of her brother, who had been abducted and killed by some sort of magical creature, at this very place. He knew by now that he'd have faced the same fate a long time ago if it hadn't been for Merlin. 

The touch of a soft hand against his sleeve brought him back to the present. 

"You're a good man, Arthur Pendragon", she said, emerald eyes full of honesty. "And a great king."

"Thank you."

"It is nothing but the truth."

Hearing her praise were both balm on his soul and poison in his veins, knowing he'd have to push her away and hurt her feelings in return, when she'd finally ask for what she came for.

With her eyes turned to the city below them, she continued: "Also, I wanted to inform you that I will be departing from Camelot tomorrow."

She would? "Really?", he asked, brows furrowed in confusion. 

"Please, do not misunderstand me. I enjoyed my stay greatly and have experienced the utmost hospitality here. Yet-", she paused for a moment, turning her attention back to him, "I will speak honestly. When I travelled here, I wanted to stay as your queen. I did not know of your arrangement with Lady Merylin at that time, and I would not have made my way here if I had. But, when I arrived here, I started wondering - Why you would promise yourself to a Lady from some lowly origin, from a piece of land so unimportant noone has ever heard of? A marriage with no prospect of a great monetary or military deal? Clearly, I must be a better bargain." She chuckled mirthlessly. "But I understand it now. You have chosen happiness. You have found true love." She beamed at him. "And that is a priviledge barely anyone in our standing has. And I would never want to interfere with something so raw, and rare and beautiful as that."

Arthur could only smile back at her, feeling an odd flush in his chest and the heat rising up to his cheeks. They had truly made it. Merlin and him have made her believe they were in love. And how easy it has been, he himself had barely noticed the change in their behaviour. What a silly thing that was. 

"So if you allow me, Arthur", she resumed, "I'd like to leave as your friend and ally."

He took the hand she offered him. "It would be an honour."

***

The smile only left Arthurs face, once Merylin finally turned around the corner. (The giddy warm feeling, on contrast, didn't leave his stomach. It more like - doubled, rose to his chest and flipped his insides around on the way up.) They had to made a great entrance to the dining hall (Morganas order), and Merylin actually have had the nerve to keep him waiting. 

Yet, the fading smile was not a result of resentment, but of astonishment. 

"You look absolutely-"

"Ridiculous, I know." Merlin smiled at him, lopsided, rising his shoulders - undeniably Merlin. Arthur couldn't help but smile in return. 

"No Queen of Camelot could ever look ridiculous, Merlin", he scolded without any heat. 

"Queen? Did I get a pay rise?" 

"Well, you certainly look the part." Draped in a velvet dress, pendragon red, with golden earrings shimmering through raven hair, shifting with each movement and a delicate necklace sitting on exposed collarbones, Merylin did not fall short to any actual queen. (And way above Merlins pay range, but that was no thought that passed Arthurs head at that moment, though he would wonder about that later). 

"Careful, you might accidentially compliment me."

Arthur was usually quick to refute, but his comeback fell short once he recognized the pleased smile on the other's face. He offered his arm instead. "Come on, now."

Once he had pushed the doors to the dining hall open and entered, their steps falling into the same rhythm, he could feel Merylins grip tighten a bit around his arm, fingers pressing gently into his flesh. He could even spot a little blush creeping up her face and ears, probably shy of the unknown feeling of having all eyes on them when entering a room.

But all Arthur could see was a person he'd be proud to call his. And gosh, he would be lying if he said it wasn't hard to peel his eyes away and focus on the evening ahead of him. 

Morgana had truly outdone herself. The hall looked wonderful, the dinner had been delicious, wine and laughter came easy and in loads. Arthur was feeling a bit lightheaded. He had not had such a nice evening event since ... well, he didn't even remember. 

Yet, there was one part he had almost forgotten about, but was made aware of once the dancefloor was cleaned and soft music started to play. 

A warm hand touched his shoulderblade. "Shouldn't you be asking me to dance?"

"I would."

"But you are afraid I can't dance?" Merylin sounded almost offended.

He leaned in a bit closer. "I'm more worried about whether you'll be able to follow my lead."

Merlins whole face softened with a smile. "Haven't I followed your lead since the day we met?"

 Arthur couln't help but laugh in delight as he took the hand he was offered and led him to the middle of the room. Because all at once, it was so very clear to him. 

"What's so funny?", Merlin wanted to know.

Now, with both of his warm hands in his own, clammy cold ones, and a smile on his lips that wouldn't leave, he replied: "You're just ... Merlin."

It was him all the time. 

And it has always been -- him. 

Chapter Text

"And I think we're done", Gwen said, her fingers falling from where she fixed Merylins hair, in a half-up half-down style. 

"Thank you so much", Merlin caught her hand and pressed it, returning her smile. 

"Always." She got up with a groan, holding her back. 

Merlin could sympathize, carrying around a whole nother tiny human under your chest for - what was it now? Almost nine month, seemed to be pretty much the definition of a self-induced backpain to him. 

"How's the kid?", he asked. 

"Ah", another smile lit up her face, hands over her belly, "Just as active as ever. Must come after their father."

"As long as it got your wits, you'll be fine."

"One can hope", she said with light chuckle and pressed a kiss to Merlins cheek. "I'll go and tell Arthur you're ready."

"No, please, just let me rot here for a little longer."

But Gwen was already on her way. "Watch out, you're already to sound like him, your Highness!", she said with a mock bow.

"Don't worry", he called after her, "I'll be back on servant-duty by tomorrow."

She gave him a little wave before leaving the room. 

For a little while, he just sat and waited for the time to pass, before standing up and getting his heels. They made his feet ache in no time, but he wouldn't have to wear them for long, anyway. He caught his reflection in the grand mirror in the back of the room, and paused. Still his face, still his body. But Merylins dress and Merylins red lips. Hell, even her movement of pushing that long hair behind their ears. He'll miss her. Once she'd have to go after they saw off Amara. He'll miss that part of himself, being allowed to express it so freely. 

There was no knock on the door before Arthur stormed in, there never was. But he stopped right after, as if he'd walked into a cold rain shower. He always did, when he spotted him looking like that. Like her. It made Merlin smile a little. 

"Are you finally ready?", he asked, once he got his composture back. 

"Yeah", Merlin said with a sigh, and met him in the doorway. "You know what they say - Beauty can't be rushed."

"Good thing you had plenty of time, then."

"Good thing", he ecoed, folding a bow from the untied strings of Arthurs tunic.

"Come on now, we're already late." His voice has gotten infinitly softer, but there was no reason why it wouldn't be. Merlin was standing right in front of him.  

He took the arm he was offered and walked down the aisle with him to the stairs, which would lead them to the castle's entrance. 

He'd miss Arthur as well. Not Arthur, in particular - but having him, like this. Like Merylin. Being allowed to touch him so freely, to stand by his side instead of a polite step behind, to speak to him with the endearment he had always felt for him. Not everything about this had been a lie. In fact, some of it had been comfortable. Nice. 

And sure, he had loved winding him up with these petnames. Had enjoyed it far to much to see him freeze over each 'dear', and blush from each 'darling', to stutter after 'dearest' and almost trip after he'd called him 'sweetheart'. Who would have thought?

"Can't you go a little faster?", Arthur asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Shoes."

"What about them?" He glanced down.

"Don't fit. Too small."

"Hm. Guess we have to get you some new ones, then."

Spoken like someone who never had to buy shoes by himself. Merlin smirked. Getting shoes with heels in his size was nearly impossible. They were all made for smaller feet. Most pairs in his humble collection were too small. And having them costum made, was not only pricy, but also an effort in finding an shoemaker who wouldn't ask too many questions. 

Merlin owned a single pair of heeled shoes which were made for him. By a lovely young man, Shoemaker's apprentice, at that time. They had met at Dorothea's Tavern and spent some time together. The man was all to happy to make tailor him a pair and they were still part of Merlin's most valued possessions, even though they parted ways not long after. As far as Merlin knew, he had his own shop now, in the lower town. Lived on top of it with a blacksmith he met, who had his store next doors. 

However, these shoes were made for... different occasions, not fit for a queen's farewell. 

By the time they walked down the grand stairs infront of the castle, he was pretty sure his feet were bleeding. Yet, he kept his shoulders back and his head high; smiling through the pain. One last time playing Queen-to-be and trying not to gag at the amount of eyes observing his every move. 

Amara was already standing beside her horse, talking with Morgana, giving her a big hug. 

"You must visit soon", she demanded with a smile. 

"I promise, I will. And you have a plesant journey back home."

"I certainly hope I will." She turned to Arthur and took the hand he offered. "Again, I want to express my gratitude. I had the most wonderful time here."

"I am glad, and will be grateful to host you again, Mylady."

"And you will always have a loyal ally in me."

Arthur looked content. Nodded. "As do you."

Now, she turned from him to Merylin, taking both her hands in hers. "It was an honor to meet you, Lady Merylin", she said. "You are truly one of a kind. It is rare to meet someone who is as honest, and true, and heartfelt as you are. I am sure you will become a wonderful queen."

Merlin didn't know why his heart picked up its pace at that, but it did. "I appreciate your words. I really do."

She let go of their hands and looked  back and forth  between Arthur and Merylin instead. "The two of you make the most wonderful couple."

(Merlin could see Morganas smug smile at that.)

"And Arthur-", Amara continued, with a wink as if the two of them were close friends (maybe they were, Merlin didn't really know), "don't wait for too long now. The good ones never wait."

At that, Arthur grabbed Merlins hand, held their intertwined fingers up between them, and Merlin tried to not look to surprised at that. 

"Trust me, I won't", Arthur added, and Amara climbed into the saddle. 

She gave them a last smile and wave, before she urged her horse forward, her entourage following close. 

They stood there, for some time, still hand in hand, and watched them leave. Merlin felt the tension drain from his body with every breath. They only turned back to the castle, when Amara and her cohort has long since disappeared.

And Arthurs hand remained in his, even when they had reached the top of the stairs. Cold and clammy fingers intertwined in his own, just as Merlin has come to know it over the past days. He doesn't know why he won't let go, but he doesn't want to question it, either. So he just holds onto his king, until they stand before the guest chamber, that served as Merylins for as long as they had needed it. Arthurs hand fell away as Merlin pushed the door open, and Merlin missed the contact in an instant. 

They hadn't talked on their way here, and remain quiet, even when Arthur followed him into the chamber, swiftly closing the door behind him. Untypical for the two of them to not break the pregnant silence with some silly nonsense - usually some mindless bickering helps to resolve the tension that now and then fans over them like a sticky spiderweb, trapping and pushing and pulling them together; it helps to break the force, like turning a magnet around, just before it clashes against its counterpiece. 

And yes, Merlin's been fully aware of that peculiar dance that they've been doing for years now. Wether or not Arthur is, he can't tell for sure. But everyone else has caught on as well, as it seems, and by now Merlin can hardly believe this whole cover-up story about the king being engaged was merly to serve as a scare off tale for further suitors. Especially with the ball they had last night - all the flowers and entertainment and dancing. That was something straight out of every little girls candy princess wedding dream. Lord, Merlin would be lying if he'd never dreamt about an evening like that, back when he was still young and innocent and laying under a cherry blossom tree, pretending the petals falling down on him were thrown for his wedding to a beautiful, sweet prince who had fallen in love with him on first sight, swept him off his feet and out of his hometown, to marry him and live happily ever after in their enchanted kingdom far, far away. 

Unfortunatly, the prince he had fallen for was nothing but a toadface, who couldn't even lift up his own feet when Merlin wanted to sweep the floor beneath him. After he had walked the whole way from Ealdor to Camelot on his own. All for Arthur to not recognize when he laid his eyes on Merlin in a different way than a friend would. 

But Arthur was an idiot, afterall. It's part of his charm, if Merlin had to guess. The thought made Merlin smile, as he kicked off the heeled shoes and stepped barefoot over the dark wooden floor. It was time to say goodbye to Merylin, at last. For an unknown time. A somber feeling washed over him like cold winter rain.

He could catch Arthurs reflection in the mirror infront of him - he was still standing in the middle of the room, seemed unsure of what to say or do, or rather how to. Merlin recognized the lines on his face like the verses of a well rehearsed poem. There was an urge in the other man, but he couldn't yet understand how to voice that calling within him. Merlin didn't mind waiting for him. He had a lifetime to spend, afterall. 

With a soft sigh, he removed the earrings, and placed them in the velvet box on the small table by his side. One of Morganas. Real pearls, she'd assured him. Beautiful. He moved on to the necklace, needling with the closure in the back of his neck. It must have gotten stuck somehow, maybe caught in a strand of his hair. His arms already started to strain, when haste steps made the wooden ground ache. 

"Let me help you with that", Arthur murmered and Merlin pushed his hair aside over his shoulder, not long before he could feel cold hands leaving hot stains under his skin. He brushed his fingers through Merylins long hair, and if just to keep them busy. Gaius' hair growth serum had worked better than they had anticipated - probably amplificated through Merlins own magic. Best he'll see to have it cut off again soon. A shame, really. But going back to his work as a servant, it will be hard to take care of hair this long. Maybe he'll keep some lenght, up until his chin, or his shoulders, even. 

The jewlery falls from his neck, and Merlin cought it over his sternum. "Thank you", he said softly, keeping his eyes down as he places the necklace to the side, afraid to catch Arthurs water-colored gaze in the mirror. He could feel the others fingers traveling down his spine, over his corset, nestling with the strings, until the bow and knot that held the piece together, was removed. Immediatly, Merlin took a deep breath, once the pressure on his ribcage was gone. Working his way up again now, Arthur carefully loosened loop after loop of the corset. Merlin moved on to his his hair, pulling out the needles that kept the half up-do together. 

The corset was all loose now and Arthurs hands slowly travelled from his shoulderblades down his back, came to rest at his sides, over his hips, where the waistline had just disappeared with the pressure of the corset. It was the touch of a breath that was on his neck first, then a chased kiss pressed on his skin, that sent shivers down his spine. 

"Arthur." It was not much more than a mere breath. And he could understand it as much as it pained him, but - "Don't." - Arthur was holding on to an image that Merlin had used his best colors to paint in his head the last days. He wanted to hold on to Merylin as much as Merlin wanted to, yet - "I'm just Merlin."

Arthur had took a step back, now lingering behind him. "You know", he said, "I figured I don't care all too much."

Merlin didn't know what to say to that. He remained so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. In fact, you could hear multiple drop, because Merlin had let all the hairpins slip out of his fingers, by all the implications that had travelled with Arthurs words. Did he really mean it? Could it be, that...? His eyes wandered to Arthurs reflection in the mirror. He had went down to one knee, gathering the falling hairpins. 

"How about, for next time, I don't make you fiancé, but queen?", he asked. "How's that - Queen Merylin of Camelot?"

Next time? Queen? Now Merlin turned around to face him - still on his knee, holding up the hairpins for Merlin to take. 

Merlins lips were so dry, he had to wet them before he could speak. "Are you proposing to me right now?"

Confusion lit up on his face, as he took in the current state he was in. "No?!", he proclaimed as he got up, and dusted off his knee. He placed the hairpins in Merlins palm. "I think I've made it fairly clear that I don't intend to marry right now."

He took two steps off, before turning back to a confused Merlin, rising his finger. "But if I ever do ask, I expect a nicer answer."

"Sure." Merlin chuckled, if only for the absurdity of it all. 

Arthur nodded, in all sincerity, and made his way to the door. He already had his hand on the handle, pulled the door half open, when Merlin called out for him. 

"Arthur."

He hadn't had thought that through, but was already walking over to him. But damn it, Arthur had already crossed that line. He stood before him, just a moment, thinking he might chicken out, but he didn't. He leaned in and kissed him. It was no big kiss. Just a quick, and messy clash of two pairs of lips and teeth. Arthur stood there like frozen. 

So Merlin kissed him again. Because - what else could one do in such situation? Arthur still wasn't moving. Merlin started to panic. Had he miscalculated? But then, with the next breath, Arthur met him halfway. Finally - finally moving, he kissed him back, pressed up against him. One hand closing the door behind him, the other naturally finding its way up to Merlins neck. Hot contact; and Merlin lifted his fingers to frame the others face, thumbs brushing over cheeks, just to keep him there, to keep him close, but Arthur had wrapped his arm around his waiste now and there was nowhere else to go for either of them right now, really. 

Arthurs whole body urged him further into the room, one step stumbled backwards, two, three four - Merlin might have thought of it as demanding, if his mind would have had such a capacity left. But right in that moment it was just screaming the others name - Arthur, Arthur. Arthur...

When suddenly Arthurs hands fell away, only to come back up at Merlins chest and pushed him off him. Not harsh, by any means, not quite letting go of him yet, but just enough for Arthur to take him in completely, from ruffled hair to bare feet. A heavy breath lifted his chest, when they locked eyes again. 

"What are we doing?"

Someone who didn't quite know him that well might have mistaken his words as confusion, his tone as offence, his look as cold repulsion. But there was noone who knew him like Merlin did. 

He offered him a lopsided smile. "We're kissing."

"No, Merlin, I know we're-", he chuckled lightheartedly, eyes fixed on his fingers which were still on the hemline of Merlins dress. "I - I just... We're- hm... Y-You, You're-"

"Arthur." Merlin tipped on finger under his chin to make him look up again, before taking his hands and gifting him the truth. "I'm yours. In whatever form I take, in whatever form you want me. If you'll have me - I'm yours. Have been, for quite some time."

Arthurs forehead came to rest against Merlins, radiating warmth and comfort. 

Merlins gaze was searching, but Arthurs was finding. They shared another moment, falling together, before catching each other in another kiss.