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“A year ago today, my father died,” Arthur began, hands grasping the podium at which he spoke. “And for a year, we as a nation have mourned. We have mourned the passing of a great man and a great king.”
The day was bright and clear, barely a cloud in the sky. Merlin found himself humming a tune as he listened to Arthur’s speech, hands clasped behind his back. However nice the day was didn’t stop Merlin from cursing Arthur’s name in his thoughts. Curse him for putting him in this overly starched uniform, even if it was tradition, and curse this whole ceremony, for making him stand just off the stage for hours as the future king’s most highly regarded servant. He could serve just as well sitting down in the audience.
“But the time for mourning has passed, and I must take my place as your King,” Arthur continued. “But I cannot do it alone. I am too young, too inexperienced, to make the decisions for a people so great as you with only my own input. Which is why we are all here today; for the choosing of the royal bride!”
Cheers roared throughout the massive crowd gathered in the festival grounds, and Merlin could see Arthur smile at their response.
He was glad to see him more at ease; he had been in a tither about this blasted ceremony for the past month, which of course meant that along with his duties as the man-in-waiting to the heir apparent, he also became the one doing overtime to ease said worries as Arthur’s only true friend.
Day after day, Arthur would call him in for one reason or another, often sparking conversations hours long that got far too off-topic.
And it would have been fine, would’ve been just another thing Merlin would do, if his one goal that entire month wasn’t to stay as far away from Arthur as possible.
…So that it would hurt less when the one he loved chose another to spend his life with.
He looked on at the proceedings with feigned disinterest, reaching a hand up to brush at his lapels as a line of the finest ladies in the country walked onto the stage. He gave Gwen a smile as their eyes met, and she gave him a tiny little wave, trying not to rip the beautiful, skin-tight dress she was in.
Many favored Gwen as the next Queen. She was level-headed, fair, and a representative of the people. Her late father had owned a popular business in Camelot, and after his passing she had taken it over, demonstrating her natural talent for business and the maneuverings that came with it. She had had many a conversation with Arthur as he got to know one of the candidates chosen by both the people and himself that had gone longer than the ones with the other women.
Frankly, none of the other choices were all that remarkable, and everyone knew it. Just some girls who he’d sort of fancied from back in his school days and said dismissively could be candidates; Merlin really didn’t think he’d choose any of them. They were just there to fill the spaces.
Merlin hoped that if he must choose, that Arthur would choose Gwen. At least she was nice to him, and had had experience in the royal household working as Lady Morgana’s lady-in-waiting up until her father’s death. She wouldn’t flaunt a college degree in Merlin’s face or step all over his toes with designer heels or laugh about his clumsiness behind his back.
“As you all undoubtedly know, the way this works is that I will select one of my chosen candidates to be my partner on the throne, and seal my decision with a kiss,” Arthur explained. He gave the crowd a playful smile before saying, “Well then, shall we begin?”
The crowd cried their approval as Arthur stepped back and watched the podium be carried to the side where his knights stood boldly in their ranks. Merlin could see Gwaine make some kind of joke as the podium neared, causing Percival to break into laughter, Lancelot do his best to stifle his, and Leon to cuff him on the back of the head.
The crowd roared louder as Arthur strode to one end of the lineup, and the heart of the ceremony officially began.
Slowly, Arthur began making his way down the line, having conversations with the candidates that no one but them could hear. Merlin could see a few smile, though some were more strained than others. He had no idea what they meant.
Merlin hated the show that had to be put on for this stupid ceremony. His heart ached the closer Arthur got to the other end of the line, the closer he got to crushing Merlin’s late-night fantasies forever.
He wasn’t quite sure when he had fallen for the arrogant twat, and wasn’t quite sure how. There was just something about those blue eyes, about how the sun shone brighter when he smiled, about how the world seemed a far better place than it was when he showed the rare bit of kindness and vulnerability.
But he wouldn’t get to see those anymore. He’d be put in second place next to Arthur’s wife; next to his Queen .
Merlin pretended his eyes weren’t wet.
Arthur reached the end of the line.
He walked back to the center of the stage, back to where the podium was now waiting for him, back to make the announcement that would shatter Merlin’s world, and he opened his mouth--
“Merlin,” he said, and Merlin’s heart jumped. “Could you come up here for a moment please?”
Merlin started. What did Arthur want now ?
He gave himself a quick once over as he ascended the steps onto the stage, making sure there wasn’t a speck on his blue and gold uniform. He ran a hand through his hair, making sure it was okay-looking and in place, becoming suddenly conscious of his oversized ears.
But when he came on the stage and was met with that smile, his worries quieted a little.
“What do you need, Arthur,” Merlin said, going into a last-minute, sweeping bow as he remembered that he was talking to the very soon-to-be King in front of a very large audience.
“Stand up Merlin, please,” Arthur requested, and Merlin scrolled up slowly. Arthur’s words came quietly, not amplified by speakers, and Merlin realized this was a one-on-one thing. Arthur was speaking only for him right now.
“Honestly Arthur, I say choose Gwen,” Merlin suggested, shrugging. But the look on Arthur’s face was not the relief at solved indecisiveness that he thought it would be. It was a sort of amused, almost pity in his eyes.
“What? I think she’d be perfect! You two get on well enough, she’s funny and smart and level-headed as anyone--”
Arthur chuckled as he said,
“No, no Merlin. I don’t want Gwen.”
Merlin was confused.
“What do you mean? Are--are you really gonna choose Annora? You told me you don’t--”
“Merlin, please stop talking.”
Merlin’s jaw shut with a click. He didn’t think he’d heard Arthur say please this much…ever. Or have that soft look in his eyes…
“I don’t want Gwen as my wife, or Annora or Eira or any of the others,” if it was possible, his expression softened more. “I want you …to be my husband .”
Merlin’s heart skipped a beat.
“S-surely not --!” he sputtered, panic rising in his chest. “ Please Arthur, do not make a fool of me; not today, not now .”
“I’m not trying to make a fool of you Merlin! I’m being serious ,” Arthur said quietly and took his chin between his thumb and forefinger.
The crowd quieted.
Merlin’s heart was pounding now, but whether it was fear or growing anticipation he couldn’t tell.
He put his hands on Arthur’s chest, trying to create a distance between them that he knew ( thought ) Arthur wanted. But he was stronger than him.
“A-Arthur,” he whispered, but Arthur only grew closer. Then louder, barely a squeak, “Arthur,” and then, louder still, a panicked yelp, “Arthur!”
He was mere inches away, close enough that Merlin could feel his breath on his face, even though he’d started to bend backward to get away.
“Merlin,” he said softly.
“Yes?!” he cried in a violent whisper.
“Kiss me.”
The words held no tone of command, and yet Merlin had never wanted to follow an order more in his life. Everything inside of him begged for this to happen, and maybe his mind was just now realizing that Arthur wanted this to happen too.
“...Okay,” he said shakily, and in mere milliseconds, Arthur had closed the gap and pressed their lips together, getting a small gasp from Merlin.
He was thrilled by the intensity of it, by the sheer amount of willpower Arthur possessed to drive their lips into each other. The hands he’d placed on Arthur’s chest tightened into grabbing the front of his uniform, and the sigh it elicited from Arthur was intoxicating.
Merlin’s knees were weak but Arthur supported his back with one hand, the other coming to caress his cheek and jaw.
Arthur began to pull away after Merlin didn’t know how long, but Merlin’s heart yearned to hang from those lips and he tugged him back down so he could experience again the true joy that kissing him brought.
“I love you,” he could feel Arthur mumble against his lips, and Merlin whispered it back into his mouth.
Eventually, though, they did break away, Merlin thoroughly dazed and blinking confusedly at the sheer amount of camera flashes in his face.
Arthur’s hand, intertwined with Merlin’s own, tugged him up, eliciting the craziest roar yet from the crowd below.
“You are the only one I could ever trust to help me make any decision,” Arthur began, turning to face him. “From what to do with the nation to what to wear in the mornings. You are my everything, Merlin.”
“And you are mine, you idiotic twat,” Merlin sighed, flicking his forehead with a spare finger. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”