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Merlin couldn’t help letting his mind wander. Arthur’s plan was a brave and good one, but now more than ever… Merlin was terrified of losing him.
“Oi,” Arthur said, starting Merlin from his thoughts to look at the blond prince. Arthur raised his eyebrow at him, before staring down pointedly at the gauntlet Merlin had halted in adjusting.
“Sorry,” Merlin said, his voice quieter than he expected. Returning to the task at hand, he tried to clasp the clips, but found that his hands were shaking and he couldn’t seem to fully grasp the metal. His frustration grew as he tried again, but the clasps slipped. Merlin bit his lip, trying to steady his shaking. A hand settled over his.
“It’s okay,” Arthur said. His voice was gentle, and his demanding look had been dropped for an expression that was far more caring and concerned. He gently squeezed the smaller and nimble knuckles before moving Merlin’s hand away to do his own clasps.
“It’s not like you to get nervous, is it Merlin?” he asked as he flexed his now properly gloved hand. Merlin turned away, his heart pounding in his chest as he unsheathed Arthur’s sword.
“I’m not nervous.”
“No?”
“Because I trust in your destiny.”
“Have you been on the cider?!” Merlin shook his head, chuckling a little bit. He turned back to face Arthur, holding his sword. He had to chuckle again at the bewildered look on Arthur’s face. Merlin gave him a soft smile. He was so proud of the man in front of him, and he hoped Arthur would know that.
“It is your fate to be the greatest king Camelot has ever known,” Merlin said, moving to stand again in front of Arthur.
“Your victory today will be remembered by every age... until the end of time.” Merlin handed Arthur his sword and glanced up to meet Arthur’s eyes. They were deep blue and churning like the ocean. Churning with love.
“Just trust in yourself,” Merlin said, taking another step closer. Slowly, as if he didn’t want to scare the blond man in front of him, he lifted a hand to his cheek.
“I do.”
Arthur huffed a small laugh through his nose, raising his hand to cover the one on his cheek. He leaned into it, closing his eyes.
“Thank you, Merlin.”
Merlin’s heart did a backflip in his chest. He could feel himself physically aching from this love. Time seemed to slow as he took another step into Arthur’s space. Those blue eyes were open again, locking eyes with Merlin as he leaned in. Merlin could feel Arthur’s breath on his face, light like a butterfly. With the care of handling delicate porcelain, Merlin slowly closed the distance to brush a kiss on his prince’s lips, never once leaving those blue eyes.
It was only a quick touch of the lips, but as Merlin pulled away a hand suddenly was on the back of his neck and Arthur pulled him back in to kiss him with meaning. Although it was gentle and slow, Merlin could feel Arthur’s lips pressed against his like he was hungry for it. In return Merlin kissed back, trying to pour all of the words he wanted to say into that one kiss, desperate to make sure Arthur knew just how much he loved that stupid prat.
They broke apart again, and Merlin’s eyes fluttered shut. Both were breathing softly. Merlin felt Arthur rest his forehead against his as well as a thumb that came to stroke his cheek. Merlin finally opened his eyes to look up through thick lashes at Arthur, whose eyes were shut, and face filled with sorrow.
“I have to go,” Arthur whispered.
Merlin gulped, bringing up his hand as well to return the gentle strokes on Arthur’s cheek. He didn’t want Arthur to go, to leave him behind. Merlin just wanted to stay in this little space, where it was just the two of them surrounded by candlelight, anything of the outside world forgotten.
But Arthur was Arthur, and as long as Camelot needed him, there was no stopping him: he needed to protect the people of the kingdom he loved. And if Merlin loved Arthur, he had to let him go, and could only hope Arthur would return to him.
“Come back to me, yeah?” Merlin said with a whisper just as soft.
Arthur finally opened his eyes and managed a smile.
“Yeah,” he said. “I will.”
---
Merlin was fighting through the crowds of injured knights, his eyes frantically scanning each face for those blue eyes.
"Arthur? Has anyone seen Prince Arthur?" he called as he wound through the corridors, stopping whoever he could to ask. With each shake of a head, or a worried look, Merlin's insides wound tighter and tighter.
Skipping the last few steps out of the palace and into the courtyard, Merlin was almost sprinting when he spotted a familiar figure.
"Gwen!" he shouted.
Gwen turned around as Merlin slowed to a stop, panting hard.
"Merlin!"
"Gwen, have you seen Arthur? I haven't been able to find him," Merlin said as his breath slowed. His heart only thudded faster.
Gwen had her hand on her hips, biting one nail as she scanned the courtyard. She shook her head, lending Merlin a sympathetic smile.
"I haven't seen him." Noticing Merlin's crestfallen look, Gwen hurried on, saying, "Not that that means anything bad happened to him. I'm sure he'll turn up." With a soft pat on his arm and one last smile, she hurried off towards the castle. Probably helping with medical.
Knights weeping blood from their heads were trailing past Merlin. Villagers looking beat up and bruised brushed past. It was a swarm of dismay, filling Merlin's nose with the scent of blood. Wringing his hands frantically, Merlin spun on the spot, trying to grab a hold of reality and to not completely lose his shit. But then his eyes fell on a fallen knight, blank eyes staring into Merlin's. Merlin thought he was going to be sick.
"Merlin!"
Merlin followed the voice in a daze, desperate tears starting to cut through the dirt on his face. He choked on his own breath as he saw Arthur limping towards him. Clearly hurt, but alive and well.
"Arthur!" Merlin cried as he sprinted to his prince, grabbing the man right before he stumbled.
"Arthur, you're hurt," Merlin said, sniffling back his tears as he noticed the large gash on Arthur's forearm. A hand was then on Merlin's cheek, wiping away the few tears that had fallen. Merlin sniffled again, meeting Arthur's eyes.
"I'm okay, Merlin," Arthur whispered. "I'm right here." Arthur pulled their foreheads together, a mimic of their moment only hours earlier. Merlin's heart finally began to slow as Arthur gently hushed him, muttering words of reassurance.
"I was afraid that, right after we found one another, I lost you," Merlin said. His voice still sounded shaky but at least he wasn't crying like a girl anymore.
Arthur pulled back, shaking his head with a cocky smile.
"You aren't going to lose me, Merlin," he said. Then, Arthur lifted Merlin's hand, placing it one his metal breastplate. Merlin thought he might pass out.
They stared at each other for several moments. Then, Arthur broke the spell, eyes darting around them. Merlin bit his lip, taking a step back from Arthur. He heard Arthur sigh, and Merlin knew he felt the same way. Whatever.. this was, they needed to be careful. Merlin took a deep breath, then lifted his chin high, clasping his hands behind his back.
"Well, sire, we ought to get you patched up."
The corner of Arthur's mouth quirked up as he followed Merlin back to the castle. If their hands brushed together a couple of times while they walked, well, then no one would know the better.