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The training field was bathed in afternoon sun, the grass still damp from the morning rain, and the sound of swords echoed like a metallic symphony. The Knights of the Round Table moved in coordinated formations, their war cries mingling with the clashing of blades.
Arthur was at the center of it all, as always. His red tunic was open at the chest, revealing sweat-glistening skin, muscles tensed under the sunlight. He gave orders with the authority of one born to command, and his men obeyed with confidence in their king.
In the furthest corner of the field, leaning against a tree with the nonchalance of someone who had nothing better to do, Merlin watched.
Every movement Arthur made was recorded — the way he spun his sword, the way his eyes swept the field, the curve of his shoulders as he prepared to strike. Merlin noticed every detail, every breath, every blink.
The knights, for their part, were already used to it. Gwaine had made a bet with Leon on how many minutes it would take for Merlin to approach Arthur and "adjust" something in his clothing, which was always "poorly adjusted" when Merlin was watching him.
Lancelot, newly returned from a mission on the borders, entered the training field with a smile on his face. His eyes scanned the area, recognizing familiar faces, until they found the familiar figure leaning against the tree.
"Hey, Merlin," he called, approaching. "Long time."
Merlin turned, and his face lit up with a genuine smile — the kind of smile Lancelot had always appreciated, because it was rare and sincere.
"Lance!" Merlin opened his arms, and the two embraced with the strength of those who hadn't seen each other in months. "Missed you."
"Always good to see you, Merls," said Lancelot, pulling back enough to look his friend up and down. "So, how's life?"
Merlin blinked, as if the question were something he was eager to answer. Then, with a mischievous smile, he turned slightly and shouted toward the training field:
"MY KING, HOW ARE YOU?"
Arthur, who was in the middle of a combat demonstration with Percival, froze. His sword stopped mid-swing, and he turned his head toward the voice with an expression that was a perfect mixture of exasperation and irritation.
"I AM FINE, MERLIN!" he shouted back, his voice echoing across the field. "I'VE ALREADY TOLD YOU TO STOP ASKING ME!"
Merlin smiled, satisfied, and turned back to Lancelot.
"Well, Lance," he said, with the calm of someone who had just confirmed crucial information, "as I'm sure you heard, my life is fine. And just a little annoyed with me."
Lancelot stared at his friend for a long moment. Then, unable to contain himself, he leaned on Merlin and doubled over with laughter.
"You are... you're too much, Merlin," he managed to say, breathless. "How can you be so cheesy and so adorable at the same time?"
"It's part of my natural charm, I suppose," Merlin replied, with a self-satisfied smile.
Lancelot shook his head, still laughing. He loved that dynamic — the way Arthur and Merlin provoked each other, annoyed each other, loved each other in an endless cycle of harsh words and soft glances. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.
"And what about Mordred?" asked Lancelot, wiping his eyes. "How's the situation with him?"
Merlin grimaced, his face hardening slightly. "He exists, he's alive, he's too close to my king. In general, he's a great nuisance."
"Merlin..."
"I know, I know. He hasn't done anything yet. He's a loyal knight, a friend, all of that. But still..." Merlin looked away toward the field, where Mordred was sparring alongside Gwaine. "I can't trust him. Not as long as he lives."
Lancelot placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "You don't need to trust him completely. You just need to trust that Arthur is safe."
"Of course Arthur is safe, because I'm here."
"Yes." Lancelot smiled. "And that's exactly why he is safe."
Merlin nodded, but his eyes had already returned to Arthur. The king was now giving instructions to Elyan, his chest covered in sweat, his tunic open revealing more skin than Merlin considered appropriate for a training field full of knights who should be looking at their king.
Lancelot observed the change in Merlin's gaze. The vigilance had transformed into something more intense — something closer to obsession.
"Well," said Lancelot, with a discreet smile. "I'm going to see Gwen. She must be waiting for me."
"Of course, she's eager to see you too," Merlin replied, without taking his eyes off Arthur.
Lancelot walked away, but not before casting one last look at his friend. Merlin was once again in his watchful position, his eyes fixed on Arthur as if he were the only thing in the world that mattered.
Drooling shamelessly over Arthur's sweaty chest, Lancelot thought, laughing softly. Some things never change.
When Lancelot found Gwen, she was sitting in the shade under a stone bench, with an open book in her lap. He sat beside her, and she looked up with a smile.
"Lance!" They embraced — they had already seen each other briefly before, but it was good to be able to hug whenever they had the chance. "Did you see Merlin?" she asked.
"Yes," Lancelot replied, still smiling. "He was watching the knights' training."
"Ah." Gwen closed the book. "And how is he?"
"Drooling shamelessly over Arthur's sweaty chest, as always."
Gwen laughed — a clear, genuine laugh that echoed.
"Was he at least trying to hide it?"
"Has he ever been able to hide his obvious love for our king?"
His beloved rolled her exasperated eyes and leaned against his shoulder. Lancelot breathed deeply, appreciating the soft scent of his angel.
"At least he stopped throwing death glares at poor Mordred?"
It was Lancelot's turn to roll his eyes in exasperation.
"Honestly? I think he's getting closer and closer to locking Arthur in a tall tower and keeping him prisoner as his precious princess forever."
Gwen laughed again, shaking her head.
"They're always so..." she hesitated, too gentle to say the words everyone knew.
"Ridiculous? Exaggerated? Terribly in love and obsessed with each other?" he teased. His beloved laughed.
"Actually, I was going to say 'cute,' but of course, your options are also true."
Lancelot smiled. "Of course, my angel. I suppose 'cute' is also something they are."
They were silent for a moment, listening together to the birdsong.
"Do you think they'll ever admit it?" asked Gwen.
Lancelot thought for a moment. His eyes drifted to the horizon, where the castle rose against the blue sky.
"They've already admitted it," he said, finally. "Just not out loud."
Gwen stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"They look at each other in a way that doesn't need words. They touch each other in a way that doesn't need explanation. They protect each other in a way that doesn't need justification." Lancelot turned to face her. "Their love isn't about what they say. It's about what they do."
Gwen smiled — a soft, understanding smile.
"And what do they do?"
"Everything." Lancelot shrugged, as if it were obvious. "They do everything for each other. And that's more than any words could say."
Back on the training field, Arthur finally finished the session. The knights dispersed, some to the barracks, others to the castle. He was panting, sweat streaming down his chest, his tunic clinging to his skin.
Merlin approached.
"Good training, my king."
"Thank you, Merlin." Arthur began walking toward the castle, and Merlin followed. "Did you stay by that tree the whole time?"
"I was watching."
"Watching what?"
"You, of course."
Arthur stopped, turning to face him. "Why?"
Merlin didn't answer immediately. Instead, his eyes traveled over Arthur's body — the sweaty chest, the broad shoulders, the curve of his lips.
"No reason," he said, finally.
Arthur felt the heat rise up his neck. Even after all these years together, he still wasn't used to Merlin's shameless honesty — the way he said things without pretense, as if they were the most obvious truths in the world.
"You're an idiot," Arthur murmured.
"And you love me for it."
Arthur didn't answer. Instead, he pulled Merlin by the arm and pulled him into a quick kiss — the kind of kiss they only shared when no one was watching.
They were definitely cute and ridiculous.