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Winter had been and went in Camelot, it was the worst one they had seen since before The Great Purge and many people in the lower town suffered as a result of the harsher conditions. The last few weeks had been dedicated to providing aid to those living in that segment of the kingdom – food, warm clothing and furs, water that hadn’t froze, and anything else that became apparent later on. It was moments like this where Arthur was proud to be part of Camelot, the community’s togetherness was something to be admired.
That being said, everyone in the kingdom breathed a sigh of relief when the first inklings of spring crept through the streets. The snowfall thawed and the water returned to the town pumps, even birds tweeting slowly faded back into their mornings bringing the joy of spring with them. Best of all, the dark nights retreated feeding light to the early mornings once again which meant he could torment Merlin by waking him up earlier whilst he gave himself a lie in.
What wonderful times are upon us.
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Aside from the warmer weather and longer daylight hours, spring brought love and renewal with it – as cliché as that sounds. There were still cold days where they were reminded winter hadn’t completely disappeared but as the birds returned to Camelot and her surrounding forests, the kingdom deemed it bearable until the warmer weather cascaded over the town.
It was a transition time which meant anything could happen whether good or bad, maybe even personal or communal. Many would take advantage of this time to renew their relationships or start new ones, with winter’s clutches finally relinquished, they were free to mingle once again and host little get together to catch up. Arthur was one of these people.
He saw the majority of his friends and family around the castle so renewal wasn’t a million miles away but now he could return to the activities he most enjoyed – that being training with the knights, exploring the market with Morgana and Gwen, and making Merlin read books to him in a field of flowers. This year, however, Arthur wanted to focus on romance. His father had been adamant about marriage and settling down especially as Arthur grows older by the years, meaning he either finds someone himself or he agrees to an arranged marriage set up by his father – which might actually be the end of him.
That being said, Arthur already had a someone in mind, a certain clumsy manservant of his that tripped over nothing and stumbled into his life randomly. He was annoyed that Morgana noticed his feelings before he did, she hasn’t stopped teasing him since Merlin first saved him from that old woman’s revenge plot and it was growing tiring. Unlike Morgana, however, Arthur had a plan to make Merlin his that was so fool-proof, even Lancelot had agreed it was good.
He had taken all the things Merlin loved (and he loved about Merlin) and turned it into the perfect date, one that would be memorable for the two of them regardless of where their relationship goes. He had already told Audrey to prepare them a few meals fit for a picnic along with a variety of fruits that Merlin mentioned in passing that he liked. He borrowed a blanket from Morgana which he stuffed inside a pack along with a waterskin and the book Merlin had started reading to him a while ago that they never finished. He had even picked the place for their picnic in advance, making sure it was close enough to Camelot should there be an emergency, but secluded enough that they couldn’t be interrupted.
Now it was just a case of waiting for the right day.
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Sunlight poured through the windows as Merlin pulls the curtains open, shining onto Arthur’s sleeping face causing him to scrunch his eyes tighter. He rolls over, trying to drift back off to sleep for those extra few minutes in bed but Merlin was having none of it.
“Rise and shine, princey!” he beams, tugging the covers away from Arthur’s sleeping form. “Breakfast is ready, get up or I’ll eat it myself.”
“You wouldn’t dare, Merlin.” Arthur grumbles into his pillow, reaching for his blankets half-heartedly. He’d never admit it, but he enjoyed being woken up by Merlin, the little titbits of personality he threw in to keep things interesting was so like him, it was almost adorable. Compared to George who was very by-the-book and proper, Merlin’s energetic playfulness was something that couldn’t be replicated. Arthur hoped he could be woken up like this every day for the rest of his life, the idea of not having Merlin around was both depressing and frightening – especially when the idiot refused sword fighting lessons, Arthur swears he does it on purpose just to freak him out.
“Oh, wouldn’t I?” Merlin's teasing voice pulls him from his thoughts, smooth like honey and yet so addictive. “Would you like to find out, clotpole?”
“Merlin,” Arthur warns, though his voice held no anger, only amusement. He sits up in bed, the blankets pooling around his waist as he stares at the manservant with a half-lidded gaze. “One, don’t you dare touch my breakfast before I’ve had a chance to wake up. Second, I’ve told you many a time not to call your prince that.”
Merlin just snickers, moving to fetch Arthur’s clothes from the wardrobe whilst the latter shook himself awake. “My apologies, sire,” he responds though it lacks any true remorse. “I’ll from this moment forth refer to you only as his royal pratness. Seems reasonable, don’t you think?” he makes his way over to the divider that Arthur had parked behind and threw the shirt and trousers over the top to hang until Arthur was ready.
“Ha ha, very funny, Merlin. You seem to be in an unusually good mood today, something happened?” Arthur asks, taking the shirt from the divider and pulling it over head.
“A letter from my mother came this morning,” Merlin replies, his tone lighter and fonder. Arthur loved hearing Merlin talk about his mother and Ealdor, he felt it strengthened their connection and allowed Arthur into a piece of his history that he hoped to see for himself at a better time. He knew Hunith, of course, but since that prior attack they hadn’t had the chance to visit, much to Merlin's dismay. Luckily, they were close enough that when Hunith sent a letter, it was usually addressed to them both as Merlin would only tell Arthur everything anyway.
“Oh? How is Hunith? Is she alright?” Arthur asks, hoping to get Merlin to elaborate. He liked hearing him talk, even if it was mindless drivel.
“She’s doing well, says the village is stronger than before with our help and their crops are starting to grow again,” Merlin summarises, hanging a belt off the edge of the divider before moving around the room to collect Arthur’s laundry for his next chore. “She’s hoping that within the next few weeks their fields will be full of new seeds and the children will finally be able to play again. Did I tell you about her new hobby? She took up quilting, says it’s been really helping with the cold nights and keeping herself busy without me there to chase after.”
“Oh really? That’s admirable, we should go visit and see if she’ll make one for us.” Arthur suggests, hobbling out from behind the divider as he tries to get his boot on. Once it’s on, he takes his seat at the desk and looks over his breakfast – two sausages, two eggs, a drumstick and some cheese. Merlin had really bargained with Audrey by the looks of it, not that he minded of course.
“I agree,” Merlin replies, carrying the laundry basket on his hip as he turns his gaze to the prince. “I’m sure she’d love to make sure we’re warm enough, she worries a lot since we left. She’ll fatten us up before we leave though, not that you need it.”
“Merlin,” Arthur chides, side eyeing the manservant with lingering amusement. “What did we say?”
“Right, sorry, your royal pratness.” Merlin clarifies. “You have a meeting with your father before noon and then training with the knights at mid-afternoon. I have some errands to run for Gaius, so I'll be out most of today. I’m sure George will step in.”
Arthur internally groans for several reasons he won’t explain aloud. He dreaded meetings with his father, usually it meant a lecture about responsibilities and taking over the kingdom soon. If he had to sit through another “pick a princess and marry her already, Arthur” he was going to lose his mind. Added to the fact that Merlin was disappearing off somewhere for Gaius which meant Arthur would have to deal with several hours of George’s prim and proper services, he wasn’t having an easy day.
Rolling his eyes, Arthur rests his chin on his palm, nudging his food around his plate with his fork. “Do you have to? Is it so urgent that it requires your immediate attention?”
Merlin snorts, pausing his task to meet the prince’s gaze. Their eyes met and Arthur swore there was a spark of something between them. “Can’t live without me, can you? Unless you want to risk the catastrophe of swerving your duties, you’re free to join me. Though I’m sure your father would have an aneurysm if he found out.”
“Can’t be any worse than the lectures he’s been giving me recently. “Find a bride, Arthur” “You need an heir, Arthur” “Marry a good princess, Arthur, the bloodline requires it”. Does he ever get tired of the same shitty line just worded differently?” Arthur grumbles, taking an aggressive bite of the pork sausage on his fork. “Honestly, it’s as if he still sees me as the naive child I once was. I’m twenty-five, I’m an adult for Christ’s sake.”
“Wow, twenty-five and you’re still unwed, what a disgrace.” Merlin teases, wandering over and taking the pitcher from beside Arthur’s plate. He pours the water into Arthur’s empty goblet then sets it back down.
“Says you, I bet you’re on the cusp of disgrace as well, aren’t you?” Arthur scoffs, leaning back in his chair, both arms extended to rest on the desk.
“I’m twenty-three, thank you. I have a few more years before I reach pinnacle disappointment crisis.” Merlin replies, a smirk pulling at his lips. He shifts his weight to one leg, holding the basket on his hip, his free hand resting sassily on the other. “Besides, I’m too busy running around after you to be falling in love. At this rate, I’ll just marry the job.”
“By job do you mean me?” Arthur smirks, it was the smoothest line he had dropped whilst being fully aware of his own flirting. “Because I’m sure there’s an unspoken rule about that, Merlin.”
The latter rolls his eyes so hard Arthur was scared they’d disappear inside his skull. “Don’t flatter yourself, prat. Anyone who gets stuck with you should be tested for insanity.”
“Ouch.” Arthur grumbles, swatting at Merlin’s hand that reaches for the drumstick on his plate. “Thank you, Merlin, very helpful.”
“My pleasure.” Merlin beams.
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It wasn’t often that Arthur got a break in his busy schedule, usually it was packed with meetings or signing official documents related to the kingdom’s growth, or even just some kind of abnormal quest that seems to happen very often. And whilst he was used to Merlin wandering off on silly errands, he wanted today to be about them, about the picnic he had arranged for them weeks in advance, he was tired of the casual flirting and needed something real before he lost his mind.
He found himself storming through the corridors, hoping that Merlin had returned from his errands so Arthur could steal him away under the guise of a preposterous quest out of the citadel. It seemed luck wasn’t in his favour, however, when he ran into Morgana and Gwen leaving the former’s bedchambers. They spot him and their faces brighten with teasing mischief.
“Arthur! How’s it going with Merlin? Finally asked yet?” Morgana smirks, crossing her arms over her chest. She wore a long white dress with a spare neckline and long sheer sleeves. It had a lace layer sewen over top with gold detailing patterned throughout, paired with her intricate gold jewellery and light-coloured flats. Her hair was styled in a braided bun with a few strands left free to frame her face.
To her left, Gwen stood with a soft smile, she wore a long, deep burgundy dress with drooping sleeves and a square neckline. She paired it with an intricate gold belt around her hips and a gold locket necklace. It seemed Morgana had tended to her hair, making her curls more defined and half tied up, enough to look elegant.
Arthur huffs at her teasing, unamused. “Har har, very funny. I haven’t had the chance, he’s being pulled away every five minutes to run errands for Gaius. At this rate, I’ll never ask him.”
“Well, that’s no way to talk,” Gwen chimes in, tilting her head knowingly at him. “You’re the prince, aren’t you? Make time.”
Arthur parts his lips to argue then pauses. She wasn’t wrong in the sense that he could order Merlin to drop his chores, but he knew Gaius was probably hindering on Merlin completing them. Wait a minute, George!
“You’re right, Gwen, I’ll make time.” Arthur grins, gently patting her shoulder as he passes by. “Have fun on your date!”
“How did he--?” Gwen mumbles, a rosy flush forming on her cheeks.
Morgana snorts. “Takes one to know one, I guess. We better leave before someone else interrupts us.” She takes Gwen’s hand, laying a suave kiss on her knuckles before urging her down the hallway opposite to where Arthur was heading.
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Arthur barges into Gaius’ chambers without knocking, words already spewing from his lips before he could stop them. “Gaius! I need Merlin for something, in return, I’ll have George take over whatever chores Merlin hasn’t finished—”
Two shocked faces stare back at him, Gaius was leaning against his workbench, myriad potions and alchemy equipment sprawled out in front of him, sizzling and bubbling without a care. He held a grimace as he stared back at Arthur, as if anticipating the worst possible outcome to this situation.
Merlin, however, looked horrified. He stood opposite to Gaius, hands still elevated as brooms, cloths, books, potions and more floated around the room by magic, completing trivial chores with ease. His eyes were glowing that gorgeous gold colour rarely seen in Camelot until his concentration broke, shifting them back to the deep blues Arthur loved so dearly. Everything that was once floating came crashing down in an instant, leaving a mess across the floor that Gaius would surely have him clean up later.
“So that’s how you get everything done so fast,” Arthur grumbles, the realisation only just now crossing his mind. He leans against the doorframe; hands tucked under his armpits as he soaks in the room. “You little shit, here I was thinking it was a great punishment for your lacklustre arse, come to find you’ve been cheating it this whole time.”
Merlin’s horrified expression shifts to disbelief in seconds. He glances from Arthur to Gaius, then back to Arthur, then back to Gaius as if trying to figure out if this is truly happening or not.
“It’s not gonna slide now though, I’ll think of something else, a real punishment,” Arthur says, steeping further into the room. “Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. Merlin, clear your schedule, we’re going out.”
“To the pyre?” Merlin squeaks out, unsure of how else to process this interaction. Surely Arthur wouldn’t keep him around after this, right?
“No, you moron, we’re going to the field outside Camelot. Grab a pack, we leave now.” Arthur instructs, turning and leaving the room with a sweeping pivot.
Merlin’s gaze stays stuck on the door long after Arthur had left before shifting to Gaius. “He’s planning to murder me where no one will see.”
“Don’t be daft, Merlin,” Gaius replies, already making quick work of cleaning the floor. “You wouldn’t be standing here right now if he was planning to execute you.”
“Nah, he’s definitely planning something, probably going to stab me with Excalibur, make it some kind of private affair.” Merlin spirals.
Gaius rolls his eyes with a long, drawn-out sigh. “Merlin, get out.”
“Right,” Merlin mumbles, running a hand through his hair, it was getting long again. “So, he can kill me faster, I hope he makes it painless.”
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Merlin found Arthur in the courtyard waiting with two horses, one had a pack attached to its saddle, the other only had a saddle and reigns. He cautiously approaches, making quick work of attaching his pack to the horse as Arthur makes the last few checks on the reigns.
“Finally, where have you been?” Arthur taunts, petting his horse affectionately. “We’ve been waiting for ages, did you get lost again?”
“I told you, I didn’t get lost, I was testing the secret passageways.” Merlin replies, tightening the straps on the saddle. “Besides, I’d like to postpone my death sentence.”
“Death senten--? Merlin, I’m not going to execute you. Just get on the horse and follow me.” He orders, swinging himself onto his stead and grasping the reigns.
Merlin sighs, dreading the next few minutes of horse-riding that would inevitably lead to his downfall. Regardless, he climbs onto his horse and follows behind Arthur with a trot, not saying a word in response. It was very unlike him to not send a jab back at Arthur – almost unnerving.
They ride through the kingdom and out the gatehouse towards the fields. With spring’s long-awaited return, the flowers were starting to emerge from the grass, trees and shrubs had little buds where new leaves were growing again. It wasn’t quite wat Arthur had in mind for their first official date, but it was pretty enough without the snow everywhere. The sun was beating down on them thankfully, only a few fluffy white clouds littered the sky, but Arthur noted the cool breeze that passed them every so often, a reminder that Winter was still prevalent. Nevertheless, Arthur wouldn’t let it ruin their day. They were both bundled up in long-sleeved shirts and warmer trousers, they could survive a bit of wind.
The journey was shorter than expected, even with Merlin frequent stops to admire the budding flowers along the way. Arthur suspected it was just an excuse to make it longer since he seemed dead set on Arthur trying to kill him. Honestly, how many times did he have to say “I’m not going to kill you” before Merlin took the hint?
They rode into the fields, luscious green grass and a scattering of flowers and weeds. Now this is what Arthur had imagined. He hopped off his horse and lead it towards a nearby stream so it could rest up. He took the pack and hoisted it over his shoulder. “Come on, Merlin, no time like the present.”
The manservant in question released a dreaded sigh and climbed off his horse, unlatching the pack and following behind Arthur with the demeanour of an innocent man on trial. “Are you sure this isn’t some cover so you can run me through with Excalibur?”
“For the last time, Merlin, no.” Arthur replies, stopping in the middle of the field to pull out the blanket he had packed. He wafts it a few times before lowering it, placing rocks on the corners to keep it from floating away. “Now make yourself useful and help me unpack this.”
It took around ten minutes, but they finally unpacked the picnic Audrey made for them and sat back on her elbows just admiring the view. Audrey had perfected Merlin’s favourites - strawberries, blueberries, apple slices, fruit tarts, sliced bread, different cheeses and meats for their platter, and of course the mead. Arthur grabs the last thing from his pack – an arrangement of flowers he had picked up from the market that morning consisting of bluebells, cow parsley, dog rose, meadowsweet, oxeye daisy, and sweet violet. Arthur was pleasantly surprised by how many flowers had grown already, especially enough to make a bouquet but he noted the way Merlin’s eyes lit up at the sight of it and deemed himself lucky.
Merlin took the bouquet with care, smelling the flowers deeply, their scent lingering for just a moment before he pulled them away from his nose. “How did you know these were my favourites?”
Arthur shrugs nonchalantly, readjusting his position to lay more comfortably on his side. “Lucky guess. Knew you’d be in for this sappy stuff.”
“Oh, shut up, pillock.” Merlin chuckles, setting the flowers aside against the pack Arthur had brought so they stood upright. He gently brushed a few petals as if fixing them. “So, you’re really not going to execute me? I did commit a form of treason.”
Arthur scoffs. “Moment ruined then, I’m not going to kill you, Merlin, how would I survive with George as my manservant? He’s as stiff as a castle wall, I’d go insane after a month,” he replies, glancing up at the clear sky. “Besides, I should be thanking you for using it to save my life, and yes, I already knew about it before today so relax.”
It was like a weight had been lifted from Merlin’s shoulders. His chest deflated with the relieved sigh he exhaled, body slumping backwards until he was laying flat on the blanket. By God, if he wasn’t the most beautiful creature Arthur had ever seen, deadly but oh so beautiful. Arthur sits up enough to lean over Merlin’s lax form, hand reaching up to push a strand of Merlin’s dark hair from his forehead, getting lost in the boy’s half-lidded eyes.
“It’s getting long again,” Arthur comments, twirling a strand around his finger. “You going to cut it?”
“I was thinking of growing it out,” Merlin admits, eyes never leaving Arthur’s. “What do you think?”
“I think you with long hair will do me in.” Arthur chuckles, cupping Merlin’s cheek in his hand.
Merlin returns the sentiment fondly. “Dollophead.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Arthur jokes, leaning down until their foreheads meet. “I might be in love with you, Merlin.”
“Might be?” Merlin teases, fingers playing with the blond hair at the back of Arthur’s neck. “Let’s change that, shall we?”
Their lips meet in one of the best kisses Arthur has ever had the privilege of accepting. Merlin’s lips were firm and a little chapped, but Arthur couldn’t care less, the kiss itself was sweet and tender, both of them trying to saviour it for as long as they could before the need for oxygen separated them.
Arthur pulls back just enough to inhale; eye’s fluttering open to admire the warlock beneath him. “So… should I be wary of enchantments from you?” he jokes, clearly thinking he was hilarious.
“You ass.” Merlin laughs, pulling Arthur back in by his hair. Their second kiss was deeper, filled with more passion that had only bubbled over through the years. It was overdue but oh so satisfying.
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Little did Merlin know that in a few short months their positions would be swapped and Arthur would be bleeding out from a stab wound through the chest whilst Merlin cradled him desperately. The sobs that would wrack through his body felt as if they shook the area around them, hands gripping Arthur frantically as he whispered reassurances he knew he couldn’t keep.
The worst part would be Arthur’s acquiescence. The smooth features of his face as if welcoming the cold embrace of death. His eyes, though dimming, never left Merlin’s tear-filled ones, soaking him in for the last time until they met again in a very different world.
“Merlin,” he mumbles, shakily reaching up to grasp the warlock’s cheek. “Look at me, love.”
Merlin forces himself to breathe before he looks into the eyes of his friend, his king, his lover, his everything who was now dying in his arms. Another tear fell onto Arthur’s pale cheek.
“There you are,” Arthur breathes, a weak smile crossing his blood coated lips. “You’re so beautiful… I love you, Merlin.”
Merlin gives an undignified snort. “I love you too, I’m so sorry.”
Arthur only shakes his head, weak but there, the loosening of his hand made Merlin grasp it tight and hold it against his cheek with another sob. “Don’t apologise, you really… are the worst.” He sucks in a sharp breath. “But you’re mine, until we meet again.”
“We will,” Merlin insists, he didn’t know who he was reassuring more, himself or Arthur. He was desperate but then again, who wouldn’t be? “I’ll wait for you. I promise.”
Arthur held on until Merlin’s final word before letting go.
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1,500 Years Later
Merlin often struggled with the idea of Valentines Day, not because he was lonely per say, but because everything linked back to Arthur in one way or another. Merlin just wished he were there to celebrate it with him.
He never truly moved on from Arthur, how could he? Arthur was his other half, the other side of his coin, his fate and destiny, that wasn’t something he could just forget about. Their connection was something he would never find again in anyone else, unique only to them.
As sappy as it sounded, Arthur was his one and done. That’s why every Valentines Day, Merlin walked to the Lake of Avalon with a bouquet of bluebells, cow parsley, dog rose, meadowsweet, oxeye daisy, and sweet violet, the same ones Arthur got for him on their date, and threw them into the river in the hopes that if Arthur ever did return he would know Merlin never forgot him. Though his hope dwindled with every passing year, he never missed a Valentines Day.
This year was no different, Merlin bought the flowers at the market that morning then walked the three miles to the lake to gift them. Winter had relinquished it hold and the sun was shining brightly for the first time in months; Merlin took it as a positive omen despite the breeze. The lake had thawed overnight, leaving the fish to bob and swim freely long the surface of the water, it rippled as the breeze hit it creating that calming sound Merlin had grown to love.
He stops at the edge of the lake and sighs. “Happy Valentines Day, my love. I’m still not sure if you can hear me but it’s worth a try. Kilgharrah said you’d return when Albion needs you most, but what if I need you? Sorry, it’s sappy day not Merlin spills his deepest insecurities day. I brought another bouquet, the same one you got me for our first date, you remember the one. It’s very pretty, you’d love the different flowers at the market now, there’s so many and they’re all so pretty.” Merlin says, thumb brushing against one of the oxeye daisy petals. “I miss you a lot as you can probably tell, especially around this time of year. Doesn’t feel right celebrating without you, fuck you for making me wait, by the way. Taking your sweet ass time, your highness. Whatever, come back to me, yeah? I love you.”
He kisses one of the flowers in the bouquet before throwing them into the lake. He watches them float for a moment before stepping backwards towards the path home, but something makes him stop. A gloved hand rises from the water, the bouquet in hand, revealing an arm and then…
“Holy shit.” Merlin breathes, standing stunned only for a moment before wading through the water towards the fucking prat that just stepped out of the lake.
Arthur barely managed to catch Merlin with one arm as the other jumped on him, trusting Arthur implicitly to keep them upright. The former king laughs as he holds Merlin tightly, not caring if he was being strangled by Merlin’s twiggy arms.
“I love you too, idiot.”
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