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Why was it always a hunting trip? Arthur would never admit to Merlin that he was right, but even he was starting to see the pattern of bad luck that followed them everytime that he wanted to catch some game.
In his defence, it was usually bandits. Bandits were familiar and he could handle them.
This was no bandits.
Why couldn't it have been bandits?
"What is wrong with you?!" The king demands, hitting his manservant on the head, after Merlin scared off what was a perfectly good deer.
"It was a deer! We don't need that much food! Especially not your fat ass!"
"It's muscle! You wouldn't know it because you're a twig!"
"Better a twig than a dollophead! And I'm not as scrawny as I used to be thank you very much."
"Still look like a boy though, goes with your mental age.".
Logically, Arthur knew Merlin was a man now, he was just two years younger than himself after all. But it was hard to see sometimes, with that boyish grin that warmed his chest in ways that he wouldn't dare examine further, and how he didn't act in a way that his father had taught him a man should act. Anyhow, his father was dead, and what was a deadmans business to tell him how a man should be.
Merlin was all that mattered: smart as a whip, wise, loyal, and the bravest and kindest man he has ever met.
Of course, he was also an idiot, disrespectful, the clumsiest person in the lands and the worst manservant to ever live.
Arthur prefered to express the ladder.
And he would come to regret not having expressed the former to his manservant.
"Says the man who has to be dragged off his bed like a whiny child!"
"Well, Merlin-". Then it happened. A pained noise, that Arthur would rather not ever hear again, came from his friend as he fell to his knees and held his chest.
"What is it!? What's wrong!?" He said as he dropped his crossbow and kneeled in front of him.
"A-Arthur.", and then, because they weren't lucky enough to have been just a muscle spasm, Merlins chest started to glow. And the glow started slowly spreading throughout his body.
Arthur froze, completely lost on what to do.
"Merlin! What's happening!?"
What Merlin cursed? Was there a sorcerer nearby that he hadn't noticed? How had he not noticed anyone?
He looked around for a moment but saw no one to kill or demand answers from, and his attention was back on the glowing.
"Something important.".
Do something!! Anything!!
It wasn't like Arthur to freeze with fear, but here he was. The glowing had spread to his neck now.
"Arthur.", his name had made him look up into his friends eyes.
"It's going to be ok.". Why was Merlin comforting him?
"Idiot," he said more fondly than he entended, "I'm supposed to say that to you!".
"Do you trust me?"
He didn't freeze or hesitate with that one.
"Yes."
The glowing was in his eyes now.
"Then trust him as well.".
"Merlin!".
FLASH. A explosion of light temporarily blinds him.
It took a moment to process that he had also been thrown a few paces back.
Merlin.
Was Merlin dead?
The thought made him sick to his stomach.
After recovering, the king looked in front him.
A man, with his back turned to Arthur was standing where Merlin had been, looking around.
"What the hell have the druids done to me now!?"
That voice.
"Why must they do this? Couldn't they have just listened to me??"
Arthur decided to slowly get up and took a better look at the man. He wore a brown cloak that certainly didn't seem comfortable, leather forearm braces and curly back hair.
Was this a trick?
Arthur almost had half a mind to pull out his sword and demand answers for what the hell had just happened. But he also didn't know if he could pull a sword on Merlin, or at least someone that sounded, and talked, and felt, and looked, and moved like Merlin.
"Nooo, let's completely ignore Merlin and teleport him to God knows where without even a warnin-"
"Merlin.".
The man froze for a minute and Arthur couldn't necessarily blame him.
He slowly turned around and the king was greated with a full black beard and wide deep blue eyes he would know anywhere.
The age in his face, the broader shoulders, the diferent clothes, the black beard and hair that was longer and curled along his forehead, eyes and nape.
Everything felt unfamiliar and familiar at the same time.
This was Merlin, definitely older, but Merlin all the same.
Everything was shocking but something stood out from all the rest.
The grief in his eyes.
He had seen his manservant grieve before but this was diferent. He looked like he was seeing a ghost in front of him.
"Arthur?"
Even the way he said his name.
"I-Is that you?", he has slowly gotten closer and extended his hand to touch the king's chest with his fingertips.
Soon his full palm touched his heart, as if trying to make sure Arthur was really there. The hand seemed to warm him to his core.
"Merlin?...what?", another hand rose to his cheek, wiping away a tear. When had he started crying?
And suddenly Merlin was hugging him like he thought he would vanish right there and then, and Arthur's wasn't sure if that wasn't possible, due to what had just happened.
How had they come to this?
He was considering giving up hunting.