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Usually one of the knights would have insisted on tagging along on Arthur’s spur of the moment hunting trip. But the king had instead deigned to drag his begrudging court sorcerer with him, knowing the man could fend off any danger that might come their way.

“You know I hate hunting.” Merlin grumbles, petulantly stomping his feet as he follows the arse.

“I know.” Arthur glances over his shoulder with a cocky smirk, “Which is exactly why I made you come along.”

“Right. Surely not because of your propensity for running into bandits.”

Arthur narrows his eyes, glaring over his shoulder at the servant, “If you’d so rather be elsewhere you can leave. I’d probably catch more game without you here anyway.”

The king knows Merlin would never actually leave him alone in the woods. Even if Arthur is more than confident in his own abilities with a sword, Merlin is a worry wart. And if Arthur’s being honest with himself this is just as much for Merlin’s sake as his own, the man’s been up to his elbows in work recently, he deserves a break from the citadel. But, as always, Arthur is not being honest with himself.

Merlin scowls at Arthur, he raises his voice obnoxiously loud as he speaks, “Perhaps I’ll just stay then, scare away all your potential prey.”

The king rolls his eyes, turning his head forward again to hide the smile fighting its way onto his face. The idiot is too easy.

They walk in as much silence as Merlin allows. Which is none at all. He prattles on about everything from the castle gossip to his recent dealings as court sorcerer.

Arthur half-heartedly tells him to shut up but he’s discreetly grateful when Merlin doesn’t.

The early morning sun of summer has started to warm the forest, golden rays of light sparkle through the canopy in the easy wave of the leaves. Fragmented spots of light dance across the grassy forest floor in a way that has Merlin’s magic humming contentedly under his skin.

It’s two hours before midday when they run into the sorceress.

While Arthur has repealed the magic ban, there are still those who are bent on revenge, seeking vengeance for the lives of their loved ones taken during Uther’s reign.

Had they not been bickering Merlin would have been able to sense the attack sooner. Unfortunately, he had been distracted by the prat, not only by their banter but also by the way the sun had been catching in the king’s hair.

So with nothing else he can do Merlin jumps in the path of the spell. However, he and the king are already stood so close together that the spell instead hits both of them, sending them to the ground with pained grunts. The last thing Merlin registers is a maniacal laugh and the sound of retreating bootsteps.

Merlin peels his eyes open. His vision is blurry for a moment before he’s able to fully focus.

He blinks up at the face peering down at him, “Uhm. Hello.”

The blonde boy narrows his eyes at him, his cheeks puffing out into a scowl, “Who are you?”

“I’m Merlin.” Merlin answers easily, a friendly smile blooming across his face.

Merlin slowly sits up. His heart flutters nervously in his chest as he takes in the unfamiliar landscape. This doesn’t look like the forest around his home. It wouldn't be the first time he's magic has stayed him too far from the village.

“Where are we?” He asks the other boy, who is still eyeing him warily.

“In the woods.” The boy confidently answers.

Merlin huffs angrily, “Where in the woods?”

“How should I know? I just woke up here with you next to me.”

Merlin tottles to his feet, brushing the back of his trousers off with his hands. Only once he gets up does he realize he’s wearing a jacket. He has never owned such a thing before, his mother had always given him cloaks, saying he’d grow out of any other outerwear within the season. Perhaps his magic made that too.

Looking around, an out of place wooden object catches his eye. It’s curved strangely, shaped almost like the letter ‘T’.

Intrigued, Merlin steps towards it. When he reaches out to touch it he is violently pulled back by his neckerchief.

“Don’t touch that!” The other boy shouts, stepping between Merlin and the object. Only then does Merlin register how red the boy’s tunic is, he’s never seen such a color before for clothing; it’s far brighter than his neckerchief.

Anger flares under Merlin’s sternum, he splays both of his hands wide and shoves the boy in the chest, “Don’t pull me!”

The blonde boy’s eyes go wide and something pleased curls in Merlin’s stomach. That is until the other boy straightens up and stomps even closer. Merlin, confident in his abilities to defend himself, doesn't back down, even if the other boy is a bit taller than him.

“You can’t go around touching crossbows!”

Merlin blinks. “What’s a crossbows?”

The boy opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again, “How old are you?”

Merlin’s brow furrows for a moment but he holds up his fingers proudly, “I’m four summers.”

“Then you should know not to touch weapons.” The blonde huffs angrily.

Merlin looks around again, trying to catch sight of something familiar, but these woods are far different than the ones at home. When his eyes land on the other boy again he asks, “How old are you?”

“Six winters.” The boy stands tall, proud to be older.

Merlin can’t deny it is impressive.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m…” Arthur hesitates. He’s been warned by his father and the knights countless times that he needs to be careful about telling people who he is. “Arthur.” The prince lands on, deciding to leave his title out.

“Okay.” Merlin nods, “Well, Arthur, I need to find my way back home, mum’s gonna be angry.”

The dark haired boy starts slowly inching toward the crossbow again.

“Stop that!" Arthur moves to block the object from Merlin's line of view. The boy's mouth twists into a scowl but Arthur doesn't falter. "Father always said if I get lost to stay put.”

“Well, I need to find my mum… Goodbye.” Merlin turns and starts walking away.

“Wait!” Arthur hurries forward, yanking Merlin to a stop.

Merlin whirls around, clenched fists swinging at Arthur’s arms. “Stop pulling me!”

“I’m only pulling because you don’t listen!”

“I don’t need to listen to you!” Merlin shoves the boy back for a second time.

“Yes you do!” Arthur argues, rage reddening his face.

“Says who?!”

“Says me!”

“I don’t know you!”

Arthur stops short before his hackles rise again. “I’m older. So you have to listen!”

“I don’t care!” Merlin stomps his foot angrily, breaths puffing noisily out of his nose.

Arthur runs a hand down his face. Yelling isn’t going to get them anywhere. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“...I can find my way back. Probably.” Merlin looks around guilelessly, anger slowly fading from his stance. “If not, ‘m sure Will will come find me. He usually does.”

“We should stick together.” Arthur declares, desperation tinging his voice. “So if someone comes looking for one of us we’ll both be found.”

“You can come. But I can’t stay here, mum will be really mad.”

Arthur makes a frustrated groan, “No. We should stay here. What if you come across a scary animal? Or- or a bad person.”

“I can-” Merlin's mouth clicks shut, knowing not to bring ‘you know what’ up, “I’ll be okay.”

“You don’t even have a sword!” Arthur argues. Not that he’s had his sword for very long, less than a full year at this point. But the weight of the wooden object is steady at his hip, tucked away in its sheath.

Merlin shrugs, pushing through some brush, “I don’t need one.”

Arthur stops, unable to do anything other than stare disbelievingly at the unfounded confidence of the younger boy. When Merlin disappears behind a bush Arthur begrudgingly hurries to follow. It’s his duty to protect those in his kingdom, even if they are stupid.

They don’t talk as they walk through the forest, their boots rustling the occasional brush. It’s a nice day out, the warm breeze ruffles Merlin’s black curls as Arthur follows not far him, hoping the boy has some semblance of where he is meant to be going.

The birds chirp and the wind sings through the leaves as they continue on.

It’s only a little while later when Arthur, distracted by keeping an eye on their surroundings, trips over a root. He hisses as his palm catches on a rock, scraping the skin.

Merlin gasps, eyes going wide with worry as he rushes over.

Arthur is so caught off guard by the genuine look of concern that he doesn’t immediately push up from the forest floor. He’s learned that he shouldn’t be seen on the ground whether from sparring or anything else, it makes him look weak.

Instead Merlin falls to his knees in front of him.

The boy brings Arthur’s scraped hand up to his round face before pressing his lips gently to the scratch.

Heat prickles Arthur’s face, his stomach fluttering with something odd. “What was that?” He asks with a furrowed brow.

“I kissed it better. ‘Ts what my mum does.”

“Oh.” Arthur looks down to his hand, still held by Merlin’s own slightly chubbier hands, before meeting his gaze again, “I don’t have a mother.”

“Oh…” A look of sadness flashes across the boy’s face, and Arthur feels a pang of guilt for having made him look that way. “ ‘Ts okay. I don’t have a father.”

Arthur’s look of shock only grows when the smaller boy offers him a hand. The prince takes it and hauls himself up.

Merlin blinks up at him curiously before a smile starts to grow on his face, “Maybe we can share then. My mum and your father.”

“Maybe.” Arthur shrugs, taking the lead this time, though he surreptitiously glances back to make sure this is the way Merlin believes they should be going. “Morgana lives with us cause she didn’t have a mother or a father. Maybe father will let you live with us too.”

Merlin is quick to take the spot to Arthur’s side rather than behind him, his eyes narrowed with suspicion, “Does your home have enough room for us to all sleep?”

Arthur’s brow furrows, not fully understanding the question, “Why wouldn’t it?”

“Some homes are small.” Merlin shrugs. His eyes dip to Arthur’s hand, “Does it still hurt?”

The prince looks down to his scraped palm, he has to admit it doesn’t hurt as much as it had. Merlin’s kiss must have worked. His cheeks flush again, “Not as bad.”

Merlin smiles brilliantly and Arthur can’t help but feel happy as well.

They talk about a variety of things as they walk on from the surrounding woods. Merlin talks about his best friend Will, who is far nicer than any of the other children in the village, and Arthur talks about Morgana and how annoying she can be.

It’s just past noon by the time they stumble across a small creek.

“Wait!” Arthur grabs Merlin by the scruff of his jacket.

“What?” Merlin turns an angry pout at the older boy.

“Do you know how to swim?”

“Mhm.” Merlin nods, “but it’s not even big enough to drown.” He gestures to the water. It’s a shallow stream, water bubbling over smooth rocks, no deeper than Merlin’s ankle.

“You could slip and hit your head, then you’d drown.” Arthur argues, cheeks pinkening in anger.

“I’ll be fine.” Merlin whines, shaking out of Arthur’s hold. “We’ve been walking a while, we should drink.”

There’s a strange, nervous thumping in Arthur’s chest, something inside urging him to be careful this idiot boy doesn’t trip and brain himself on a rock.

The prince grumbles but follows close behind, knowing the boy won't listen if he tries to stop him.

They scoop water into their hands to drink. Arthur can feel the coolness of the water as it slides down his throat, a few droplets miss his mouth and dribble down his chin.

Merlin, on the other hand, looks as if he got more on him than in him, a large splotch of water now decorating his neckerchief and the upper part of his tunic.

“You’re making a mess.” Arthur reprimands.

Merlin shrugs, “It’ll dry.”

Arthur is about to reply when Merlin lets out a violent gasp.

The prince tenses, “Wha-”

“Shh!” Merlin shushes him and a flare of indignation ignites in Arthur’s chest. “Don’t move.”

The seriousness of the other boy's words has Arthur stilling. His eyes scan the surrounding trees for any sign of a threat, but he doesn’t see anything.

The prince nearly startles out of his skin as Merlin dives past him, landing on his stomach against the grass of the bank.

“I got it!” Merlin exclaims as he clambers up, hands held together.

“What on earth-” Arthur cuts himself off with a gasp when Merlin holds out a sizable frog.

“Wow!” Arthur exclaims, never having seen a frog so close up before. He goes to touch it when Merlin shifts it away.

“Wait!”

Merlin aims the frog away just in time as a stream of liquid spills from its underside.

Arthur turns his worried gaze to Merlin but the other boy is merely giggling.

“They wee when you catch them.”

The statement is so absurd and unexpected that Arthur too falls into a fit of giggles. This boy is so strange.

The prince then falls into another fit of laughter thinking of how Merlin must have figured that information out.

Their eyes are watering by the time they both stop laughing.

“Wanna touch it?” Merlin peers up at him.

Arthur nods, reaching a tentative hand out. He runs a finger down its back.

“It’s… kind of lumpy.”

“Pfft yeah.” Merlin looks curiously at the blonde. “Wanna hold it?”

Arthur narrows his eyes warily, “Will it wee again?”

Merlin muffles another giggle, “No, only once.”

“Okay.” Arthur answers firmly, holding his hand out as steadily as he can.

Merlin places the creature on his palm.

Arthur leans closer to look at it. Its throat expands as it makes a low ribbit. It jumps from his palm to the ground, plopping into the water.

“Oh.” Arthur wilts.

“It’s okay, they don’t like to be held long.”

Arthur looks to the water where the frog disappeared before checking their surroundings again. Thankfully there are no visible threats nearby.

When Arthur turns back to Merlin the boy is already walking away.

“Stop wandering off!” The prince grumbles as he makes to catch up.

Just shy of two hours later they reach a fair sized clearing. The grass is just past their ankles, sparse groups of flowers and small bushes dotting the area.

Merlin, who had been dragging his feet, startles when Arthur excitedly grabs his arm and gives him a shake.

“Look! Dandelions!”

Merlin pries himself out of the older boy's grip. “They’re not flowers. I tried to give ‘em to my mum and she said they’re weeds and can ruin the crop fields.”

Arthur gives him an annoyed look. “Whatever they are, they’re meant to grant wishes.”

Merlin's eyes widen with excited curiosity. “Wishes?”

Arthur grabs his hand and tugs him further into the clearing near the closest patch of the puffy plant.

“Mhm. My nursemaid told me about them but I’ve never been able to try because whenever I see them I’m always with…” Arthur tapers off. It’s not as if he can say he’s escorted everywhere by knights without giving his station away. “My father.”

A strange melancholic sadness flickers in Merlin’s chest when Arthur’s smile fades at the mention of his father. He has half the mind to ask what a nurse maid is but there are more important things at hand. The warlock’s eyes flick from Arthur's face down to the mysterious plant. “Then we have to make sure we do it right.” Merlin’s face takes on a determined pout.

“Right.” Arthur nods just as determinedly. His eyes drop to the ground, searching for the fullest flowers.

Merlin watches excitedly as Arthur bends down and carefully extracts two of the plants. The prince is careful not to shake any of the puffs away as he gently hands one to Merlin, who takes it as gently as his young, clumsy hands allow.

“Now what?” Merlin whispers, turning his sparkling gaze to Arthur.

Something about the awe in the younger boy's gaze has the prince preening, eager to impress him. Arthur isn’t sure he’s ever had such genuine astonishment directed at him before. It's far better than the simpering he's given in the castle.

“Now,” Arthur answers quietly, matching Merlin’s hushed tone, “think of your wish, then close your eyes and blow the puffs away.”

Merlin gives a firm nod before squeezing his eyes shut.

There’s a lot he could wish for, but at the moment the most pressing matter in his mind is his empty stomach. He clenches his eyes shut as tightly as possible, pouring all his energy into the wish before blowing air out his tightly pursed lips.

Arthur too closes his eyes as he thinks of what to wish for. There isn’t particularly anything he wants, as a prince he is able to get whatever he asks for. He hadn’t really thought about it before, but the prospect of being able to make a wish is more exciting to him than getting something out of it.

Well, perhaps there’s something he could wish for.

He takes a deep breath, the warm summer air filling his lungs before expelling in an eager breath. A warm shimmer permeates through his chest but is gone just as quickly. He can’t help but smile at the sensation, it's sure proof that it must have worked.

When he opens his eyes the individual puffs of his and Merlin’s dandelions have intermingled, floating in the warm breeze. They catch pockets of light as they float, illuminating into a hazy gold as they drift away through the light dappled trees.

Once all the fluffy pieces are gone from sight Merlin turns a downtrodden, apprehensive glance to the prince. “They didn’t come true.”

Arthur sputters haughtily before puffing, “It’s not like they’ll happen right away. It probably just needs some time.”

“Oh.” Merlin nods, excitement easily restored, “Okay!”

There’s a beat of silence before Merlin whispers conspiratorially, “What did you wish for?”

“Shhh!” Arthur shushes him, slapping a hand over the boy's mouth. “We can’t say or they won’t come true.”

Merlin’s angry eyes soften as understanding washes over him. He peels Arthur’s hand from his face. “Alright.” Merlin huffs as he plops to the ground, arms spread out as he looks to the fluffy clouds above head.

The movement disperses some of the other dandelion puffs, some of which tangle into Merlin’s dark waves.

Arthur watches him, an unimpressed brow raised. “What are you doing?”

“My feet hurt.” As soon as Merlin finishes the words his belly gives a loud grumble.

Arthur stares at the younger boy for a few moments before heaving a sigh. They have been walking for quite a while. “Fine. I’ll check the per…im..eter.” He says the difficult word slowly. “Need to make sure it’s safe.”

“Okay.” Merlin shrugs, not really understanding what Arthur is saying. The sorcerer closes his eyes, basking in the heat of the sun.

“Stay here, Merlin. I mean it.”

Merlin’s face forms an angry pout but he doesn’t open his eyes. “I said ‘okay’.”

Arthur glares back even though the boy has his eyes closed. He sets off to more closely inspect the area, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. It’s his first independent assignment as a proper knight, he’s sure his father will be proud once he hears how he protected this lost boy.

It’s a while later when Merlin hears familiar bootsteps approaching again.

“Come on, sit up.” Arthur commands as he sits down beside Merlin.

The younger boy cracks an eye open to peek at the blonde. It takes a moment for his eyes to readjust, at first he's merely greeted a silhouette haloed in light. When he can properly see Arthur again Merlin scrambles to sit up.

Arthur’s chest swells at the clear amazement on Merlin’s face. Cradled in the front of Arthur’s tunic the prince has a bundle of robust strawberries he had found growing right in the center of the clearing.

“How did you find those!?” Merlin’s eyes are wide, cheeks flushed with the same kind of genuine astonishment that has Arthur puffing out his chest with pride.

Arthur lifts his chin higher. “I saw them when doing patrol,” Arthur smiles inwardly, he truly sounds like a proper knight. “And we need food, who knows how long it’ll be before we get back home.”

Merlin’s stomach gives another loud grumble, earning a laugh from the prince. “St- stop laughing!” Merlin huffs, “They’re my favorite, so of course my tummy rumbles when I see them.”

Arthur’s laughter dies down but his smile doesn’t fade. “Cup your hands.”

Merlin complies and Arthur shimmies a few into his hands. Merlin doesn’t waste a single moment, taking the plumpest one and biting into it with a pleased hum. “It's good.”

Arthur snorts as the juice stains the corners of Merlin’s mouth as he devours the next bite. “They’re really your favorite?”

Merlin nods eagerly, his eyes practically glittering.

Arthur pops one into his own mouth. They are really good.

“What's your favorite?” Merlin asks before starting on his next.

Arthur contemplates for a moment, swallowing before answering. “I like cake, but we don’t have it often.”

“What’s cake?” Merlin asks as a cloud momentarily blots out the sun.

Arthur gapes, utterly appalled. “You don’t know what cake is?!”

Merlin shakes his head, the waves of his hair bouncing with the movement. He bites into another strawberry.

“It’s… it’s–” Well, Arthur’s never really thought about it before. It’s not as if cake grows from a plant, and it’s not an animal. “It’s… kind of like bread. But so much better! And it has frosting on top!”

Merlin gives him an incredulous look. Bread is already so good, how can something be that much better?

“When we get back I’ll show you. You have to try it! We usually only have it on special occasions but I’m sure once chef hears you’ve never had any she’ll make some.”

“Really?” Merlin asks earnestly.

Arthur gives him a fierce nod as he bites into another strawberry.

There’s a bubbly feeling in Arthur’s chest that has him feeling light. It’s surprisingly nice to not be treated as a prince. Every day Arthur is subject to countless lessons and tests and studying sessions. He rarely gets to leave the castle grounds save for the rare times he’s allowed to go on hunts with the knights.

Arthur knows that he will one day be king and must be prepared to lead and protect the people of his kingdom. He has been taught that it is an honor to do so, and in turn that responsibility makes him more important than nearly anybody else.

He had always thought being a peasant would be lousy, but being treated like a common boy is far more amiable than he thought it would be. He doesn’t have to worry about the way he says things or how he sits or what people are thinking of him or how the tips of his fingers are growing slightly sticky.

The strange revelation has something rueful, almost petulant, aching in Arthur’s chest as he contemplates his position and responsibilities.

As they munch on their snack the prince becomes increasingly aware of the sun slowly sinking further behind the trees.

From the way Merlin’s prattle has grown quiet he’s noticed too.

Once their final strawberries are eaten Arthur makes to his feet and offers a hand out to the younger boy. “Come on, we need to keep going.”

Merlin nervously glances around at the dimming woods before taking the proffered hand. Usually Will would have found him by now, and the trees still don’t look like those in the forest around his home.

Something unpleasant twists in Arthur’s stomach at seeing the younger boy's demeanor grow troubled. There’s an unignorable pull for the prince to mollify Merlin. Arthur glances around, his eyes landing on a yellow flower mixed into a bundle of puffy dandelions.

The prince swiftly plucks it from the ground and turns back to Merlin. “Here.” Arthur blusters, as if put-upon. His stomach twirls strangely and heat spills into his cheeks. He tucks the flower behind Merlin’s ear.

Merlin blinks at the other boy.

Arthur huffs again, his mouth twisting into a bristled, though not fully genuine, scowl. “So if it gets dark I won’t lose you.”

Merlin’s eyes shift to the ground, looking for more. “Shouldn’t you have one too then? So I don’t lose you?”

Arthur scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No. My hair is bright so you can see it. You’d just end up disappearing.”

Merlin scrutinizes him for a moment, eyes squinted. After deeming Arthur’s hair sufficiently bright enough, the sorcerer nods his acceptance.

As they leave the clearing Arthur turns to make sure Merlin is still following him. The boy is a few paces behind but now has the same kind of yellow flowers sticking out of all his pockets, making sure he doesn’t get further lost.

The rest of their travels are done in uneasy silence, tension rising as the sun sinks lower and lower behind the trees.

The warm air of early summer starts to taper as beams from the setting sun weave between tree trunks. The birdsong has given way to the whirring of nocturnal insects and the chirping of crickets.

“Arthur,” Merlin finally breaks the silence.

The prince down at the boy questioningly.

“My mum’s gonna be real worried. I’ve never been gone so long… Usually Will would have found me by now.”

Arthur slows to a stop. He can’t deny he’s growing anxious too, but perhaps for the first time in his young life he understands why he, the prince, isn’t meant to show fear.

“Well, I’ve found you, so it’ll be okay. We will be found soon.” And Arthur is sure of it. He’s certain nearly the entire garrison of knights are searching for him. So when he is found Merlin will be found as well.

“But,” Merlin shifts his weight restlessly between his feet, “It’s getting dark.”

Arthur looks around their area. It isn’t a clearing per se but the trees are far enough apart to make camp. And Merlin is right, there’s barely any light left, the golden streams of light having given way to a soft horizon of orange that peaks through the foliage of the early summer.

“Then we make camp here.” Arthur lifts his head resolutely.

Merlin is still nervous, but seeing how confident Arthur is makes him feel a bit better. It would be far worse had he been stranded all by himself.

“Okay.” Merlin inches closer to Arthur, “How do we make a camp?”

Arthur freezes, his bravado wavering.

He hasn’t the faintest clue on how to set up camp. There are always servants and knights to do that sort of thing.

Well, it can’t be that hard if they can do it. He is a prince after all.

“We need to make a place for the fire.” The prince uses the tone of voice he does when ordering guards around. “You find some wood.”

Merlin nods astutely before turning to go on his mission.

Arthur’s heart clenches tightly. “But– don’t go too far! Make sure you can always see me.”

Merlin nods again before walking more slowly away. He’s about 12 feet away (3.6 meters) before he turns around. He calls loudly, startling Arthur who had started searching for sizable rocks. “Can you still see me?”

Arthur whips around and sure enough he can still easily see Merlin, even as the air around them starts to give way to a tone of darkening blue. “Yes!” Arthur shouts back. Though really at that distance the boys could merely still talk to each other. “Don’t go much further than that though!”

“Okay!” Merlin nods, glad his dandelions make him more easy to see. He starts scouring the ground.

Once Merlin has an armful of sticks he totters his way back to Arthur who has created a dirt circle surrounded by rocks.

Arthur’s eyebrows raise, clearly impressed when Merlin drops the sticks beside the circle.

“Wow. Well done.”

Merlin’s brilliant smile has Arthur feeling squirmy yet even more intent on keeping the younger boy safe.

“Right,” Arthur clears his throat before continuing, “Now we set it up.”

Merlin follows Arthur’s instructions to the best of his ability as the prince tries to remember how the knights usually set up the fire.

They manage to get the shape somewhat resembling the familiar triangle Arthur is so used to seeing.

They stare, crouched in front of the wood for a few moments before Merlin turns his eyes to Arthur. “How do we light it?”

The prince glances between Merlin and the wood.

“Well… I just have to hit two stones together until it starts.”

“Oh, that’s what my mum does too.” Merlin’s mouth twists anxiously before continuing, “I think… I think you need a special rock though.”

Arthur scoffs, bristling at Merlin questioning his ability. “I can do it just fine.”

“Alright,” Merlin drawls uncertainly.

After a handful of tries Arthur snaps at Merlin, the boy nearly leaning all his weight into Arthur as he eagerly watches on. “It’s because you’re watching!”

Merlin frowns angrily, “No. You need a special rock.”

“How would you know?! Have you ever started a fire before?!”

Merlin flinches back. “No,” his voice lilts up as he lies, his eyes shifting away from the prat.

Merlin has in fact started a fire before. However, his magic nearly burnt down their entire hovel. It’s the maddest he’d ever seen his mum. Though Merlin suspects if she ever learns of Will knowing about his ‘you know what’, she’d be even more angry.

Actually, him being gone for an entire day might make her the most mad.

“Tch, I thought so,” Arthur clicks his tongue condescendingly. “Now go find some more sticks so we can make shelter.”

Angry and sad and homesick and tired, Merlin curls his hands into fists before stomping away.

Arthur huffs before turning back to his rocks.

The dark blue hue of evening has grown thicker and Arthur has still yet to successfully have the fire catch, let alone form a spark. He puts the stones down, giving his arms a rest, when his stomach drops to his feet.

He quickly stands up and spins around, legs aching from having been crouched so long.

There’s no sign of Merlin nor any sound of him fumbling around looking for sticks.

“Merlin?” Arthur asks the darkening woods but gets no reply. “Merlin?!” He asks louder but still nothing.

The prince looks around frantically, eyes darting between trees for any sign of the other boy. Panic starts to constrict his chest, far more quickly than he deems it should after a boy he barely knows decided to wander off.

With no other option he starts in the direction Merlin had stomped away from the campfire, though he will make sure not to lose sight of their camp, not wanting to get lost himself.

Only when the darkness has nearly swallowed their campsite does Arthur catch a glimpse of bright yellow.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouts as he sprints forward and it feels like he can breathe again.

But when Merlin doesn’t turn around or uncurl himself the prince slows down. “Merlin?”

Merlin sniffles wetly. “Go away.”

Arthur takes a few more tentative steps closer, “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” Merlin sniffles again before wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Now, go away.”

Indignation flares in Arthur. How dare this boy give the prince a command.

Arthur closes the space between them before yanking Merlin around by his shoulder.

Merlin grunts and growls as he tries to fight off Arthur. But the prince isn’t having any of it. They exchange childish blows, smacks, and scratches of blunt nails until finally Merlin grows too tired; from physical exertion and having to keep such a strong hold on his magic lest he lose control.

Merlin’s arms drop and only then does Arthur see that the flush of his cheeks isn’t just from anger. There are tear streaks down his cheeks, his eyes watery but refusing to spill in the presence of Arthur as his bottom lip wobbles.

Arthur’s grip loosens on Merlin’s shoulders but he doesn’t remove his hands. “Merlin? What’s wrong?”

The question has sharp sadness stinging Merlin's nose and blurring his vision but he does his best not to let his tears fall. “I– I’m scared. I’m scared and I wanna go home and my mum’s gonna–” his voice starts to hiccup. “She’s gonna be so angry with me. And–”

Merlin’s face crumbles as a sob escapes him, big tears falling down his round cheeks as his desperate eyes bore into Arthur. “And- and Will– he– he– I know he isn’t coming– I know he isn’t but I don’t know why!”

It’s not as if he and Will had any tiffs recently, at least not that Merlin can recall. But Merlin had woken up in these woods not remembering how he got there. What if he and Will had a fight, one so bad that even if Merlin went missing he wouldn’t come look? What if he can't remember just like he can’t remember how he got here?

Because he knows Will isn’t coming to look for him. Something in Merlin knows that but he doesn’t know why.

“And it’s all my fault!” Merlin sobs as he fights for breath. “I sometimes get lost in the woods but– but I’ve never gone so far and– and–”

Merlin’s magic has lured him out into the forest on its own volition multiple times before, eager to be nearer nature but this feels different, this doesn’t feel like the forest he knows.

Merlin’s chest heaves with stuttered breaths as he fruitlessly tries to wipe his tears away with his sleeves. “I’m afraid I’ll get you hurt, It’s– sniffle– and then you got mad but– but I don’t know how to do anything,” Arthur’s chest floods with guilt as another sob is forced out of Merlin. “I’m sorry, I– I don’t know how to do anything. I’m sorry.”

Something achingly familiar yet explosively new claws at Arthur’s chest and he can do nothing but obey the infallible urge.

Arthur tightens his grip on Merlin’s shoulders and yanks Merlin into his chest, wrapping his arms protectively around his upper back.

Merlin immediately wraps his arms around Arthur’s middle and tucks his head into the older boy as sobs continue to wrack his chest.

“I’m sorry.” Arthur murmurs into the side of Merlin’s hair, the dandelion tickling the bottom of his nose. Merlin relaxes into him a bit more and it feels like a long settled weight is lifted off of the prince’s chest. He knows he isn’t ever supposed to apologize to anyone other than his father, but now that he has he can’t stop the words from spilling out. “I’m sorry. Truly, I’m sorry Merlin. I– I didn’t mean to yell at you. And– and I know you’re scared.”

He squeezes Merlin tighter, warmth flutters in his chest when Merlin’s arms tighten around him in turn. “I’m sorry you think Will isn’t coming to get you.” Arthur pulls back just enough so he can see Merlin’s mess of a face. “But even if he doesn’t, I’ve found you. So you aren’t alone, alright? And I promise I’ll get you back home… I’ll protect you, so don’t worry.”

Merlin’s eyes have gone wide, his tears having stopped in his shock. He doesn’t know why he’s so surprised by Arthur’s words. It's as if there’s something in his mind so close to unlocking but he can’t figure out which key to use. And yet he knows Arthur is saying the truth, it’s the most certain Merlin has been about anything since having woken up. And he knows it’s important.

Merlin sniffles, his chest sputtering as he calms down from his outburst. “I’ll protect you too.”

An ember of unpleasantness flickers in Arthur’s stomach but he pushes it away. “Alright. We protect each other then, and we find a way home.”

Merlin lurches forward into Arthur’s chest with a thud as the sorcerer hugs him tightly again. The pressure is on the side of uncomfortable but still strangely pleasant. Arthur returns the hug.

“Alright. Together.” Merlin nods and in turn wipes his tears and snot onto Arthur’s shoulder.

“Ew! You utter lout! ” Arthur pushes Merlin away.

The younger boy breaks out into a fit of giggles and Arthur can’t find it in him to stay too mad.

Arthur sighs, smile playing at the sides of his mouth. “Were you at least able to find some sticks to make shelter?”

Merlin’s shoulders tense as his smile drops. “No, I’m sorr–”

“It’s fine.” Arthur harrumps, “I couldn't get the fire started either.”

Merlin gives him a small smile. “Okay. It’s okay, there’s things both of us can’t do.”

Arthur knows his father would disagree but, well, his father isn’t here at the moment is he?

“Come on. We can at least try to make a sleeping area.”

The prince waits until Merlin’s beside him to start walking back to their camp.

The air has grown milder but still comfortable as the hue of evening has shifted to an even darker tone, the light of the crescent moon low on the horizon as the stars start to twinkle above head.

Arthur walks beside Merlin but keeps half a step ahead, just in case he needs to draw his sword. However, when Arthur comes to a dead stop this has Merlin hitting his nose into the prince’s shoulder.

“Ow! Arthur, you toad! Wha–” Merlin blinks as he peers ahead.

Their camp and the surrounding woods have started flickering with the soft yellow-green glow of fireflies.

“Wow!” Merlin races forward with an amazed laugh, “I’ve never seen so many!” The ones nearest Merlin drift toward him, as if being drawn to the boy.

Arthur smiles and follows, looking around with wide-eyed astonishment, “Me either.” He swats two hands out to capture one. The glow seeps from between his fingers as the light flashes.

Merlin slinks closer. Arthur glances at him before opening his hands to reveal the bug sat calmly on his palm.

“It’s so pretty.” Merlin smiles, his sleepiness is heavy in his eyes and starting to come through in his voice.

“Maybe we don’t even need a fire tonight. It’s a bit early in the year for them to be out though.”

Merlin swallows harshly. “Maybe cause it’s–” he interrupts himself with a yawn, “–so warm.”

“Maybe.” Arthur shrugs before gently pushing the firefly from his hand, only for it to instead land on Merlin’s nose.

Arthur bursts out into laughter as Merlin goes cross-eyed, the flashing of the bug illuminating his whole face.

Merlin too starts to laugh and the bug escapes upwards to the canopy.

After a while of boyishly chasing fireflies and each other, they start on making a pile of soft brush to sleep on. They stay side by side the entire time, working together, though with every passing moment it becomes clearer and clearer just how tired Merlin is as his movements slow down.

“Alright,” Arthur gives a satisfied sigh, “that should be good enough. At least for toni–”

Arthur perks up the exact moment Merlin’s stomach lurches.

Multiple sets of hoofbeats.

“Knights!” Arthur exclaims excitedly, already starting to make his way toward the sound when a firm hand around his wrist stops him. “Merlin, come on we need..! Merlin?”

“We have to hide!” Merlin whisper-hisses, his eyes wide with panic.

“What?” Arthur asks flatly, not bothering to lowering his tone.

“They can’t find me, Arthur! They’ll hurt me. Please, we have to hide.” Merlin tries tugging his arm but he doesn’t budge.

“What? Merlin, knights are meant to help you. They’ll help us get home!”

“No, Arthur please.” Merlin begs, frantically trying to tug Arthur in the opposite direction.

“Merlin what has gotten into you?! Why would you think the knights would hurt you?”

“Because they will! Now, please Arthur, we need to hide!”

Arthur yanks his arm out of Merlin’s hold. His voice grows with anger. “Not until you tell me why you think they’d hurt you.”

The sounds of hoofs against the ground is getting louder and Merlin’s heart is nearly beating out of his chest. “Please Arthur. I don’t want to have to split up.” Merlin’s eyes dart furiously around.

Arthur shifts his arm so he is now holding Merlin in place, stopping him from running off alone into the woods.

“Merlin.” The prince’s tone is more exasperated than irate but Merlin is already in a near panic he can’t distinguish anything over the enclosing hoofbeats.

“Arthur, please!” Merlin’s starts to tremble. He wants nothing more than to run off into the woods yet something inside him is preventing him from leaving Arthur.

“Merlin, they won’t hurt you, I promise.” Arthur tries to sound as assured as he can but Merlin’s palpable terror has the prince tottering the line between angry and anxious.

Merlin makes up his mind and spits out. “I have magic.”

Arthur releases him before he can think better and Merlin falls roughly to his bum.

“Wh-what?” Arthur balks, “That’s impossible. You’re too young to have learned.”

Merlin scrambles to his feet, inching farther away to the opposite tree line. “I was born with it. Please, Arthur. They’ll kill me.”

“You don’t have–”

Already having lost too much time Merlin focuses his magic and creates a small ball of blue shimmery light. His eyes flash gold for a split second before the ball evaporates into thin air.

Merlin dashes forward to pull on Arthur’s sleeve. “Please, we have to go, Arthur. Now!”

Arthur’s thoughts are too quick to work through but if Merlin was born with magic then it is no fault of his own. Just as Arthur was born a prince by no fault of his own.

“Merlin. I need you to trust me. I swear to you that they will not harm you. Let me see if they are Camelot knights and who they are. I’ll see if its safe but you have to promise me not to run. Okay?”

The horses are closer and there are voices now, they’re fervently talking to each other, arguing about what direction the noise just came from when one clearly calls out, “Arthur?”

Arthur whips his head around before quickly turning and grabbing either side of Merlin’s face. “You have to trust me, alright? I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

And for whatever reason, Merlin believes him.

Too scared to speak, the dark haired boy gives a shaky nod despite the terror in his eyes.

“Okay.” Arthur nods, giving Merlin’s head a reassuring squeeze before turning toward the sound.

Arthur breaks through the brush, hand on his hilt, poised for attack. Thankfully though he is greeted by a group clad in familiar capes, illuminated by the torches two of the men carry.

Arthur’s eyes quickly glance over each rider, looking for a familiar face. He quickly surmises that none of them look familiar, but it’s not as if he personally knows every single knight. With a sigh of relief he drops his hand from his sword.

Leon stares down in disbelief. It’s the spitting image of Arthur, far before he was even the crown prince, let alone the king.

He really looks just as you’d imagine a young Arthur to look like. A softer jaw, wide yet alert eyes, a far less trained stance, and a scowl eerily similar to his older self.

“Arthur?” Leon asks slowly.

Either their king was hit by some kind of spell or Arthur has some serious explaining to do.

“Yes?” Arthur tilts his head to the side.

Thank God. Not a bastard then.

There’s a long pause as the other men process what they are looking at.

Merlin, unable to stand still, not knowing if Arthur is okay, creeps closer to the brush and peaks through. Thankfully the night and brush keep him well hidden.

Lancelot breaks the long silence. “Where’s–?”

“Are you alone?” Leon interrupts before the man can finish. The silent command understood by each knight.

Arthur’s eyes shift uneasily, he hesitates for a moment but his voice is strong when he answers. “Yes.”

Gwaine surreptitiously glances around the area from atop his horse. “What happened princes–, sire?”

“I don’t know!” Arthur huffs, gesticulating as if trying to physically form the answer. “I just woke up in the middle of the forest.”

“And then?” Leon asks as he starts to dismount, the others following.

“And then w– I tried to find my way back.” Arthur stands tall despite the worry growing in his belly.

This would have been far easier had he known a single one of them. Then he could have known for sure he could introduce Merlin. But he needs to make sure they are safe, even if he doesn’t plan on revealing Merlin’s secret.

“Well, it’s a good thing we found you before it got too late.” Elyan takes a slow step forward, following Leon’s cautious movements.

Arthur bristles. “I could have protected us just fine.”

“Us?” Leon asks with fake ignorance.

Arthur’s eyes go wide. “I–”

“Is that him?” Gwaine asks, seamlessly following the unspoken plan. He shifts the torch to illuminate the dark brush behind the prince.

There’s a small ‘eep’ as Merlin is spotted.

Arthur steps in front of him, drawing his sword.

Merlin takes that opportunity to skitter behind Arthur, grabbing the older boy’s tunic as he partly hides behind him, peaking around his shoulder.

Merlin, much like Arthur, is similar to his older self, but perhaps not as uncanny as the king. Merlin’s hair is just as dark with familiar waves, but where his cheekbones should be sharp and his jaw strong they are instead pudgy and rounded. The baby fat and the dandelions sticking out of his pockets and behind his ear, have him looking exceptionally adorable.

There’s a pause when, much to Arthur’s befuddlement the blade he has drawn, is, in fact, not wooden. Arthur doesn’t let the unexpected weight of his blade deter him as he feels Merlin’s shaking hands grip his tunic. “Don’t touch him!”

Gwaine snorts, “Well, clearly he hasn’t changed that much.”

Elyan muffles a laugh but is cut short when Lancelot gives a deathly serious warning. “Gwaine.”

The knight’s eyes dart back to the young pair when he notices it.

While Merlin is feebly hiding behind Arthur, his eyes wide with genuine fear, there is also something undeniably steely and cold in his gaze; something Gwaine wouldn’t have ever even jested about being turned on them.

If Arthur’s shaky grip on his sword is anything to go by, they are truly younger versions of themselves.

Meaning, not only does Merlin not remember them but he has very, very little control of his magic.

Gwaine startles half to death when Lancelot speaks up.

The man raises his hands placatingly as he slowly lowers himself to one knee. Both Merlin’s and Arthur’s gazes shift to the knight. “I like your flowers.” Something hopeful flashes over Merlin’s face before it's quickly taken over by fear again.

“Where did you get them?”

Merlin shrinks behind Arthur a fraction more, Lancelot inwardly winces. “I only ask because I like dandelions too. I’ve heard they’re good for your belly.”

Merlin glances to the flowers in his pockets curiously before looking back to the man.

“My name is Lancelot. What’s your name?”

Merlin leans forward to whisper something too quiet for the knights to hear into Arthur’s ear.

The young king gives a small nod, “If you want.”

“I’m Merlin.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Merlin.” Out of all the magical things Lancelot has had to deal with this one might just be the strangest.

Merlin gives a small, polite nod in return.

“Those dandelions are very pretty, they match you very well.”

Merlin smiles shyly, “Thank you.”

Arthur narrows his eyes at the man, lips turning down into a glower.

Percival has to turn his head to hide his laugh. Leon bites the inside of his cheek to try to keep a straight face.

Leon clears his throat, battling his amusement away as he re-focuses. “Arthur, what’s the last thing you remember before waking up?”

“I…” He pauses, thinking before answering. “I was with my languages tutor.”

“And you, Merlin? Did you wake up like Arthur did?”

Merlin gives an adamant nod, still not letting go of Arthur.

“What is the last thing you remember, Merlin?” Lancelot asks.

Merlin’s face scrunches as he thinks. “I was helping mum get eggs from the coop.” He looks nervously at the knights, “Will I be able to see my mum again?”

There’s a resounding wave of affirmative and almost panicked answers from the knights.

“But first, we have to make sure you’re not hurt or sick. Is it okay if we take you to see Gaius?” There’s a pause before Leon adds, “He’s the physician.”

That name pulls something so sharp in Merlin’s chest he lets go of Arthur’s tunic and takes a step forward. “Yes!” Merlin nods imploringly, “I want to go see him.”

“Do you know Gaius?” Elyan asks tentatively as he shifts his grip on the torch he’s holding.

Merlin’s brow furrows, “No, but… I know I really want to see him.”

Arthur stands beside Merlin taking the younger boy's hand in his own. “Then I will take you to him.”

Even Leon can’t keep his smile down this time. “Very well, sire. Who would you like to ride with?”

Before Arthur can even contemplate one of the men starts approaching. “How about you lads ride with–”

“No.” Arthur answers flatly, taking half a step forward.

Percival can’t stop his laugh as Gwaine visibly ruffles. “Why not?”

“Because… I know I don’t want you near Merlin.”

There’s a round of chortles from the others. Arthur looks around confused at what’s so funny.

Gwaine deflates with a defeated sigh, “Fair enough.”

“What about me?” Lancelot asks hopefully.

Merlin gives a small pull to Arthur’s hand but the prince shakes his head. “You either.”

Lancelot sputters, cheeks blushing as the others laugh even harder. He understands why Arthur instinctually wants to keep Merlin away from Gwaine, but Lancelot had thought the king had more conviction in him.

Merlin yawns widely, causing his eyes to water. It’s been a long day and after crying earlier he feels even more sleepy. “You pick, Arthur. I trust you.”

The knights have to bite down their snickering as Arthur puffs up with pride. He looks over the knights before landing on Leon, he looks the most trustworthy.

“You. What is your name Sir knight?”

“Leo–” Leon catches himself, “ –pold.”

“Leopold?” Arthur asks suspiciously.

Gwaine is doubled over by the tree line, silently dying of laughter.

“Yes. Your maj– highness. My name is Sir Leopold.”

“We will ride with you then.” Arthur glances at Merlin who gives him a nod.

“You heard him. Saddle up, men.” Leon calls out to be heard over the poorly stifled laughter.

There’s a chorus of ‘yes sir’s as the knights mount their steeds.

Merlin pulls Arthur to a step when he makes toward the knights.

“What?” Arthur whispers. But really it’s the kind of whispering children so often do where the speak at a regular volume while merely making their voice more airy.

Merlin glances at the knights who are pretending they can’t hear their whispers. “Why did they know your name?”

Arthur internally debates with himself, but given as Merlin told him his secret it's only fair Arthur be honest too. “I am their prince. My father is the king.”

The knights freeze before shooting each other apprehensive glances.

Merlin raises a disbelieving brow. “Aren’t you too young to be a prince?”

“What?!” Arthur squawks at regular volume.

“Shouldn’t you be, you know, like them.” Merlin gestures to the knights.

“What is that supposed to mean?!” Arthur gripes.

“... Don’t princes save princesses from evil castles and dragons?

“Wha- do you think prince’s are just born as old as them?” Arthur gestures to the knights. Merlin falls into a fit of giggles at the thought and soon enough Arthur is laughing along with him.

Once their laughter has subsided Arthur glances at the younger boy. “You don’t mind?”

“That you’re a prince?”

“Yeah.”

“Why would I?”

Lancelot shoots Gwaine a wry smile, “Neither of them have changed very much.”

Gwaine puffs out an amused breath before climbing onto his saddle.

Arthur smiles brightly at Merlin before pulling him along to Leopold’s horse.

The prince releases Merlin’s hand to be hoisted up by the knight to sit in front of him.

Merlin glances nervously at the steed.

“Have you ever been on a horse, Merlin?” Leopold asks gently.

Merlin shakes his head.

“That’s alright. I’ll make sure you won’t fall and Arthur can show you how it’s done. Is that okay with you?”

A nervous sweat beads at the back of Leon’s neck. He melts with relief when Merlin nods and holds his arms up to be lifted.

It’s a bit tricky hauling him up with Arthur sat in front of him but Leon makes due.

Arthur helps settle Merlin in the very front. It’s a bit squished but no more than two fully grown adults sharing a saddle.

Once the boys are settled Leon shifts his hands to the reins, bracketing the boys on either side.

“–and you put your hands here.” Arthur leads Merlin’s hands to the cantle of the saddle. “Okay?”

“Mhm.” Merlin nods, stifling another yawn.

“Is everything in order, sire?” Leon plays into Arthur’s very clear attempt to try and impress Merlin.

“It is.” Arthur gives a firm nod before bashfully wrapping his arms around Merlin’s middle. “Let us go to Gaius.”

“Very well. You heard his highness. We make for Gaius at once.” As cute as it is seeing Arthur like this, Leon sincerely hopes they are able to remember this when they change back. Which they surely will return to normal, though hopefully the remedy is an easy one. But nevertheless Leon prays this will finally allow their Court Sorcerer to see how much their king truly cares for him.

“Alright,” Leon speaks more softly again, “we are about to move, are you ready?” The last thing they need right now is for Merlin to accidentally set off his magic and do something unfathomably horrific and possibly world changing.

Arthur tightens his hold around Merlin. “Yes. Just… not too fast.”

Leon clicks his horse forward. “Of course, my lord.”

Merlin tenses as the horse slowly starts to walk, but after a few easy sways he finds himself relaxing again.

“See! It’s not hard.” Merlin can hear the smile in Arthur’s voice.

There’s some hushed conversation between the knights but neither boy pays it any mind. Merlin too enraptured by the horse, and Arthur too enraptured by Merlin.

Merlin turns so he can see Arthur out of the corner of his eye, “Arthur…”

“Hmm?”

“Can I pet it?” Merlin asks shyly, his eyes flicking hesitantly to Leopold as if asking might get him in trouble.

“Yeah, just don’t pull her mane or any of her tack.”

Merlin raises a tentative hand out before reaching and stroking an impossibly gentle hand down the lower half of her neck.

Merlin puffs with pride as he turns to smile at Arthur. “She is very smooth.”

“Of course she is. All of Camelot’s horses are taken very good care of. Right, Sir Leopold?”

Leon’s lips quiver as he tries to fight down his smile. “Yes, sire. You stable the finest of horses.”

Merlin hums, either impressed or appeased, Leon can’t tell. But either way Arthur grows more smug.

Not much later does the swaying ease an exhausted Merlin to sleep against the prince’s chest. Arthur isn’t faring much better, his head keeps nodding forward only to snap back up at the last moment.

The knights watch on amusedly until finally Arthur’s head lolls forward, the side of his head resting against Merlin’s.

The knights wait a few more moments to make sure they’re truly asleep before Gwaine saddles up beside the first knight.

“Lucky bastard.”

Leon smiles down at the two, “They are rather cute aren’t they?”

Once they get to the gates Leon gently jostles Arthur awake.

“Hmm?” Arthur looks around blearily, tightening his hold on Merlin. “We aren’t even there yet.”

“Sire, I believe this is Merlin’s first time seeing Camelot. I imagined you wanted to show him.”

Arthur perks up before gently shaking Merlin awake.

“What?” Merlin answers tersely, not having gotten enough sleep yet.

“We are at Camelot, my father’s city.”

Merlin pries his eyes open and sits up taller to see better.

There’s more houses than he’s ever seen, far larger and made differently as well. The occasional window is lit by flickering candle light giving the illusion of very large stars.

The horses’ hooves clop against the cobble stone as they wind their way through the lower town. Arthur watches proudly as Merlin is so obviously impressed with Camelot.

There’s a muffled sound of music and boisterous voices as they pass the tavern.

Lancelot smiles as Arthur glares at the building, he can’t help but join in the teasing. “Do you not like the tavern, sire?”

Arthur glances warily at him before answering, “No, I do not.”

Merlin nods his head as they pass by the building, “It smells funny.”

Elyan closes rank from behind, a teasing smile pulling at his lips, “What is it you don’t like about it, my lord?”

“I…” Arthur trails off before answering pompously. “I am the prince of Camelot. I do not have to answer to you.”

“Arthur!” Merlin gasps, appalled. The younger boy twists so he can see Elyan. “I am sorry. That was rude of him.” Something about the apology feels strangely familiar to Merlin.

“It’s alright Merlin, I’m sure Arthur is just cranky from not sleeping enough.”

Arthur splutters but before he can get any words out Merlin scowls at him.

“You’re being mean. I don’t like it when you’re mean.”

Arthur’s mouth twists angrily. He huffs petulantly but doesn’t retort.

It's at that interaction the knights all come to the startling realization that Merlin knowingly uses his admiration of the prince to his advantage.

The next few moments Arthur stews in his angst as Merlin takes in the rest of the city. Only when they round the last corner of the lower town does Merlin realize the citadel is one building. The white stone and blue tiles catch the torch light as it looms protectively over the rest of the city.

“What is that? It’s taller than the trees!”

Arthur’s anger is quickly forgotten at the chance to peacock again. “That’s the castle. It’s where I live.”

Merlin whips around the best he can in Arthur’s hold. “That’s your home?!”

Arthur nods proudly. “The castle is my father’s. But one day when I become king it will be mine.”

“But, it’s bigger than my entire village! How does only one family live inside?”

“Well,” Percy interjects, “we live there too. Just in a different part.”

Merlin looks curiously to Arthur, “Do you let anyone without parents live with you?”

Leon’s eyes go wide and Lancelot starts choking on air as the other knights’ mouths fall open.

Arthur is shockingly unfazed by the question. “No, that’s just Morgana. Everyone else is a servant or guard.”

“Wow.” Merlin turns back to look at the castle. Looking at the highest part makes him a bit dizzy and he has to look away.

Once they reach the courtyard the knights start to dismount.

Lancelot approaches Leon’s horse tentatively, “May I help you down, Merlin?”

Merlin nods, holding his arms out to be taken.

Arthur frowns but doesn’t object so Lancelot eases Merlin into his hold, balancing the young warlock on his hip, one forearm under his rump, leaving the other hand free. Merlin's arms naturally loop around the knight's neck.

“Alright,” Gwaine slides between him and the horse. “I’ll help you down Arthur.”

Arthur gives the man a wary once over but holds his arms out.

Gwaine excitedly lifts Arthur into his hold, similarly balancing him on his hip to keep one hand free. He knows the king is hardly one for affection let alone physical touch, so he is wholly going to take advantage of the situation. Which will be all the better if the princess remembers afterward.

“You can put us down now.” Arthur starts squirming.

“But Gaius’ chambers are all the way up his tower,” Gwaine laments dramatically. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you could, but surely you don’t want Merlin to have to hike up all those steps, especially after walking all day.”

Elyan rolls his eyes as he hands his horse off to a stable boy. The young worker does a double take at the children before helping lead the horses away.

“Alright.” Arthur concedes, not wanting to walk up all those steps either.

“Off to Gaius we go!” Gwaine leads the charge, earning small laughs from both children.

Merlin’s sleepy eyes sparkle in amazement as he takes in the interior of the castle. Lancelot quietly explains what certain things are as they follow the familiar route to the physician’s chambers.

“So,” The rogue knight starts loudly as they start up the steps of the tower. “I saw how you held your sword earlier, sire. You’re clearly very well trained with a blade.”

Arthur’s lips twitch, trying to maintain his princely persona but the excitement shines through in his eyes. “Of course. I have to be good to protect my people.”

“Right, of course.” Gwaine nods sagely as he ascends the steps of the tower. “You know… I know a few nifty sword tricks. Perhaps I could teach you some time?”

“Really?!” Arthur tenses with excitement.

“Why not?” Gwaine smirks at him. “You’re very skilled with a sword but you have a ways to go until you reach my prowess. It’s no hardship for me to impart my wisdom.”

Leon and Elyan snort laughs at the word wisdom coming from Gwaine.

Gaius is cleaning some vials when there’s a gentle knock at his door.

It’s a bit late for a visitor, and emergencies don’t tend to knock, and neither does Merlin.

The physician sets down the glass and rag as he calls out, “Come in.”

The door opens to a clamber of voices and shuffling. Sir Percival is the first one to enter, quickly followed by Sir Leon and Sir Gwaine…

Gaius blinks slowly. And then again.

“Arthur?” Gaius asks trepidatiously.

“Gaius!” Arthur wriggles his way out of Gwaine’s hold and Gaius can only stare.

An ache of grief throbs in the physician's stomach. He’s just as he was when he was a child. As much as Arthur tries to hide it Gaius has known the man all his life, he’s seen how the responsibility of an entire kingdom has weighed on him over the years. Especially after the passing of Uther and the prolonged stress of repealing the magic ban.

“What on earth happened?” Gaius turns his bugging eyes to the knights.

Leon sighs, “We don’t really know, but…” Arthur slides by Leon’s leg to the doorway. “That’s not all.”

“Put him down.” Arthur huffs angrily to the other side of the threshold.

“Is that okay, would you like to be put down?” Lancelot’s voice is incredibly soft as it spills into the room.

There’s some shuffling and the next thing Gaius knows he is looking now at two children. One very familiar and one he’s never seen at all.

Emotion pools in Gaius’ eyes. “Mer–?”

Leon cuts him off. “Gaius, this is Arthur’s friend, Merlin.”

Seeing Arthur was a shock all on its own. But the innocence of Merlin is something else to behold completely.

The physician knows better than anybody how the years changed Merlin. How he grew stronger, how his boyishness was hardened into the stone of a man, seasoned by a destiny which he held on his own for years. While the legalization of magic and the defeat of Morgause and Cenred had significantly tempered Merlin, there is a hardness to his eyes that Gaius knows will never fade, forged by a myriad of violence and war.

Never had Gaius been able to see the youth of his boy. One who is barely old enough to understand what having magic even means, let alone the years of prejudice and anxiety he was subject to before the physician ever met him.

Gaius has to steady himself with a hand on the counter. Leon rushes over to help support him with a hand to his shoulder.

Merlin’s nose scrunches at the strange smell as Arthur pulls him into the room. He follows nervously behind the older boy.

Seeing the elderly man has something in Merlin desperately wanting to go to him, but he stays behind Arthur, eyes nervously flickering to each person in the room, though inevitably always dragging back to the physician.

“Gaius.” Arthur lifts his head proudly. “This is Merlin, he wanted to meet you so I brought him here.”

“Is that so?” Gaius chokes out wetly.

“Yes. I met him in the forest, we were a little lost.” Arthur shifts uneasily, “But don’t tell father that.”

Surprise tamps down the physician’s melancholy, he finally is able to tear his eyes away from Merlin to glance at the knights. “Don’t worry, sire. I won’t tell your father.” His eyes return to the dark haired child, dandelions sticking out in various places. “It’s an honor to meet you, my boy.”

Confused panic stirs in Merlin’s chest and he pries his arm from Arthur’s hold and runs toward the man.

Gaius startles as Merlin collides with a robe-clad leg, wrapping his arms around it in a hug.

Leopold is quick to scoop Merlin up but quickly hands him off to the physician. “He’s not too heavy is he?”

Merlin wraps his arms around the physician's neck and buries himself into the man. Gaius scoffs at the knight, wrapping his arms around Merlin in a tight hold. “I’m not that old, Sir Leon.”

There’s a beat of silence before Gaius sighs, “No, he’s not too heavy.”

Arthur giggles. “Gaius. That isn’t Leon, that is Leopold.”

The physician raises a brow at the knight.

Leon coughs awkwardly, “Right. It’s okay, it's an honest mistake, I know the names are similar.”

Gaius turns to the king, “Arthur, why don’t you get on the cot so I can look you over.”

Percival helps Arthur settle as the knights give the physician a moment with young Merlin. And if when he turns back to them his eyes are wet, no man mentions it.

Gaius settles a reluctant Merlin down beside Arthur so their legs dangle off the side of the cot. Arthur on the other hand is quite pleased to have Merlin back beside him.

After some questions answered by both the children and knights Gaius sets to work.

It takes no time at all to find the spell, the physician knowing exactly what book to check. Leon and Elyan peer over his shoulders as the others entertain the children, doing their best to distract Arthur from asking too many questions.

In the presence of Gaius Merlin’s shyness has since evaporated. He squeals and runs around, laughing as he and Arthur weave between the knight's legs, trying to escape the monster, played by Sir Gwaine.

On a particularly sharp turn Merlin’s feet stumble and he bumps into the table falling back onto his bum and knocking the glass vial Gaius had been cleaning earlier.

The boy’s eyes flash gold as the vial stops mid-air. Panic seizes Merlin’s chest and the gold fades from his eyes as the vial shatters on the ground.

Merlin’s wide eyes fearfully flit to the knights who all quickly turn away, pretending to not have seen.

“Merlin!” Arthur rushes forward, “Are you alright?” Arthur too quickly eyes the knights before turning back to the dark haired boy.

“I’m okay.” Merlin shies away, nerves bubbling under his skin after such a close call.

“But you bumped your head!”

Merlin brings a hand up to the spot he bumped, it doesn’t hurt too much. “It’s okay it’s not too–”

Merlin is cut off when Arthur places a hand on either side of his head and tilts his face forward, pressing a kiss to the bump.

Merlin lifts his head, he blinks before smiling at Arthur, a pink blush dusting his round cheeks. Something warm and happy sparkles in Merlin’s chest.

The knights and Gaius stare in complete shock, mouths having fallen opened.

“Is it better?”

Merlin smiles so wide that his eyes form little crescents, “All better!”

“Good Lord, they better remember this.” Lancelot chuckles into his hand.

The others give fond and exasperated nods.

“Alright kiddos,” Gwaine starts, “I think it’s time for a little break, we don’t want any more accidents.”

Merlin twists his hands together before glancing at the physician. “I’m sorry for breaking your glass.”

The physician smiles warmly from where he is grinding something with his mortar and pestle. “It’s alright, my boy.” It’s hardly the first vial the lad has broken.

“Come on, back to the cot you two.” Percival cajoles.

“Careful!” Arthur warns, taking Merlin’s hand before the other boy has even moved. “Don’t step on the glass.”

The prince carefully leads Merlin to the cot, leaving a large berth between them and the broken fractals.

Leon hefts himself to his feet from where he had been leaning on the worktable beside Gaius. “I’ll clean it.”

“Thank you, Sir Leopold.” Gaius’ lips twitch as he continues on his work.

Gwaine, broomstick in hand, walks past the glass and passes the broom to the first knight before sauntering over to the physician.

Leon gives the knight a very clear look of ‘really?’ which Gwaine adamantly ignores.

“So,” Gwaine peaks into the mortar, “what ingredient do we have to go on some perilous quest to obtain?”

“Actually, Sir Gwaine, I have everything I need here.”

“Holy shit, that never happ-”

There’s a startled gasp that has all eyes turning to the children sat upon the cot.

Merlin has his hands pressed to his ears and his eyes scrunched shut while Arthur glares at the rogue knight.

“Don’t say that word,” Arthur sneers.

Gwaine would give his left kidney to make sure the princess remembers all of this. He clears his throat, not even bothering to fight down his grin. “Oh, my deepest apologies, my lord.”

Lancelot moves to help Leon clean the glass with an eye roll.

Eventually Merlin’s whispered questions of the castle, and Arthur’s child-like answers of how he thinks it works, start dwindling as sleep once again starts to pull at their eyelids.

“Gaius?” Merlin calls sleepily, startling Arthur whose chin had lolled down into his chest.

“It’s almost done, my boy.” The physician reassures as he watches the dry mixture simmer above the candle.

“And… and then I can see my mum? She’s gonna be really angry.”

“Of course. I’m sure Hunith will be delighted to see you.”

“But–” Arthur speaks up, his voice tinged with dread, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Something in Arthur clenches so strongly at the mere thought that he physically brings a hand to his chest to try and soothe the wretched tightness.

“I… don’t wanna leave either. But my mum…”

“I’ll send for her.” Arthur declares, sitting up straighter. “She can come here so you don’t have to ever leave.”

Merlin fidgets in his seat, “And Will too?”

The children don’t notice the weight fall over the rest of the room.

“But he didn’t even come find you!” Arthur argues.

That same sharp sadness from before stabs Merlin’s belly. “But–” his lips wobble, “He’s still my friend. I don’t– I don’t know why he–”

“It’s alright, Merlin.” Lancelot soothes, taking a step forward. “We can figure it all out. We’ll fetch your mum and Will this way you can stay here with Arthur. Does that sound good?” Merlin sniffles but nods. Lancelot turns his gaze to Arthur who gives a reluctant nod.

“Alright boys.” Gaius announces to the room in its entirety before walking over to the children, bowl of light pink powder in his hands. “I’m sure the two of you are tired, hmm?”

“I’m not tired.” Arthur protests despite having fallen asleep moments before.

“I am.” Merlin nods heavily.

“I’m just going to sprinkle some of this powder on you and then you can finally get some rest.”

“Does father know that I’m back?” Arthur fiddles his hands together nervously.

Gaius presses his lips together. “We’ll deal with it in the morning.”

“Alright.” Arthur murmurs morosely.

“If it were up to me I’d keep you like this, but destiny and duty call.” Gaius smiles sadly.

“Wait!” Gwaine shoulders his way through the other knights to the front. “Before you do that.” The knight turns to the king. “Sire, may I have one final hug?”

Arthur frowns. “Why?”

“Because you rarely give them and I don’t want to miss this opportunity.” Gwaine answers oddly truthfully.

“Me too!”

All heads turn to Leon.

“What?” The man asks caustically, “Sir Gwaine has a point.”

“You too Merlin, could we get a hug from you as well?” Elyan asks as he slinks forward.

“Okay.” Merlin smiles sleepily.

Seeing Merlin agree Arthur gives in as well.

Gaius places the powder to the side to get a hug from each boy. Not that Merlin doesn’t hug him often, but Arthur certainly doesn’t.

There are plenty of hair ruffles for Merlin, though they're careful not to dislodge his dandelion. And each man takes the opportunity to hug their king, who is notoriously against such affection due to propriety, though that doesn’t mean he’s undeserving of it.

Leon whispers proud words to the prince who flushes with a bashful honor.

“Are you both ready?” Gaius asks when he’s picked up the bowl again.

The boys nod.

“Don’t forget about our training session princess.” Gwaine playfully winks at the lad.

Arthur’s brow furrows in confusion but is quickly ensconced in a puff of pink smoke as Gaius incants and blows the dust onto them.

The knights watch with held breath.

The tiny coughing of children deepens to that of men and when the dust settles both King and Court Sorcerer are their rightful ages.

Their coughing dies down, Merlin swatting the air away from him when they finally catch their breaths.

“Merlin? My lord?” Gaius asks cautiously.

When Arthur’s angry eyes snap to Gwaine the knight takes a cautious step back. “Well, would you look at the time? Pretty sure I’m supposed to be in the tavern at this hour.” He scurries backward to the door, not risking taking his eyes off of Arthur. “See you at practice tomorrow princess,” Gwaine cheeks before making his escape.

Only when the man is gone does it really hit Arthur what happened.

The others in the room stare excitedly as Merlin slowly turns his flushed face and wide eyes toward the king.

Heat spills into Arthur’s cheeks as he refuses to look at any of his knights and adamantly refuses to even turn in Merlin’s direction. The prince stiffly stands up clearing his throat awkwardly “Thank you, Gaius. It’s late so I will be retiring for the evening.”

Arthur all but sprints from the room.

Merlin watches Arthur leave before turning his flummoxed expression to the others who are very poorly hiding their amusement.

“What–” Merlin’s voice cracks so he tries again, “What time is it?”

“No later than nine hours past mid day.” Leon answers easily.

Merlin nods absentmindedly, internally reeling from the events of the day.

Gaius clears his throat. “I believe the king said he was going to turn in for the evening. You best be on your way, Merlin. The room won’t turn down itself.”

Merlin nods again before dazedly making his way to Arthur’s chambers.

For the first time in his life Merlin contemplates knocking on Arthur’s door. He stares at the refined wood trying to get his thoughts in order, but his mind is startlingly absent of thoughts yet somehow overbearingly loud at the same time.

He pushes in without knocking.

Arthur looks up at him from where he is sitting on the side of the bed, clearly in a fierce battle against his boot laces. The king is illuminated by the scant candles he lit upon his arrival, the deep shadows sharpening his features. His abandoned scabbard sits on the desk, thankfully not having scattered any of the parchment.

Thanks to years of practice the king manages to keep his flush from rising to his cheeks, though he feels the heat prickle his ears. Despite the flustered embarrassment that he shoves down, the corner of his mouth quirks up at the utterly absurd image of Merlin decorated with dandelions.

Merlin’s mouth ticks up in turn at the clear struggle Arthur had been having with his laces.

The king sighs, leaning back onto his hands and gesturing to his boots with a nod. “Well, come on then.”

Merlin’s lips slide into a vexing, amused smirk as he walks closer keeping his eyes on the tangled laces. His eyes flash gold as he lowers down to his knees, his hands deftly working the newly made knots free. “It’s easier if you can actually see what you’re doing.”

“I didn’t see the point of lighting more only to put them back out a few minutes later.”

Merlin hums his congruence as he slides one boot off , then the next, followed by Arthur’s socks which he tosses to the waiting basket.

Once his feet are freed Arthur flops backwards on the bed, his legs still dangling off the edge.

Merlin sighs as he eyes the prat. “Arthur.”

“It’s already late. I’ll just sleep like this.”

“Nope. Come on.” Merlin grabs the king’s hands and hefts him up to his feet.

“Merlin,” Arthur groans indignantly.

“It’s barely nine in the evening, Arthur.”

“What?!” Arthur stands up straight. Merlin releases his hands. “It felt like we were out there for hours!”

Merlin shrugs, “Time goes slower when you’re young.”

There’s a moment of silence that stretches just a hair too long before growing awkward.

Merlin clears his throat. “Shall I fetch you some dinner, sire?”

Something flashes over Arthur’s face but it's gone before Merlin can read it.

“It’s fine.” Arthur waves him off, “I’ll get another servant to fetch it.” He starts moving to the door, speaking over his shoulder. “Prepare my night clothes.”

Merlin rolls his eyes at the lack of a ‘please’ but fishes out Arthur’s white evening tunic and a pair of brown sleeping trousers for the king.

Arthur leans out of his door giving his request to the nearest guard before padding barefoot back over to Merlin and extending his arms out to be changed.

Merlin fights the traitorous flush that tries to heat his face as he drags Arthur’s tunic over his head. He reaches for the sleep tunic and starts sliding it onto the king’s muscled frame.

“You know,” Merlin starts in an attempt to both distract himself and break the lingering tension they are both pretending isn’t there. “We can still share my mum.”

A genuine laugh spills from Arthur, though his eyes have a hint of sadness to them. “Thank you, Merlin.”

As he always does, Merlin averts his eyes and makes quick work of Arthur’s breeches. The king uses his servant’s shoulder as support as he lifts each foot.

Merlin’s eyes flick up to his when he finishes the tie. He raises a brow at the king’s amused expression.

“Well,” Arthur’s tone takes on a playfulness, “I don’t think you would have wanted to share my father anyway.”

Merlin sputters, choking as the laugh unexpectedly bubbles out of him.

Arthur smiles, not noticing the way he proudly puffs up at having made Merlin laugh. And this time, Merlin doesn’t miss it.

The warlock’s heart flutters in his chest embarrassingly. Merlin turns away to hide his fervent blush and starts turning down the bed.

Arthur pads over to his table before taking a seat. He lazily watches Merlin go about his duties, the familiar light of Arthur’s hearth flickering across the warlock.

When there’s a soft knock at the door Merlin turns away from the bed and goes to take the food. Instead of handing the tray off to Merlin the servant pushes through the door wordlessly passing Merlin and setting the table himself. Setting it for two places.

Arthur gestures to the other chair. “You’ve had the same amount of food as I had today. Strawberries aren’t enough to sustain a grown man. Now, sit.”

Merlin once again tries to fight down his blush, though less successfully this time. He slides his jacket off, setting it on the back of the chair before untying his neckerchief and placing it on the table.

“They are if you eat enough.”

Arthur gives him an unamused look before his lips curve up in an intrigued smile, “They’re still your favorite?”

“How could they not be?”

It’s far from the first time the Court Sorcerer has shared a private dinner with the king. Though it’s still not as often as either man would like. The serving boy pours them each a goblet of wine before quietly taking his leave.

Only when Merlin sits down does he see the small cupcake beside his place setting. He can’t stop his amused, fond smile. His gaze slides up to Arthur whose eyes quickly flick away.

“Arthur, you do know I have had cake since coming to Camelot, right?”

The king cuts into his food, “And now you can say you’ve had even more.”

Merlin smiles bashfully, “Thank you, sire.”

Arthur takes a generous sip of his wine, eyeing his sorcerer over the rim of his goblet.

“Merlin.” Arthur reprimands.

“What?” Merlin asks innocently around a mouthful of cupcake.

“You’re meant to eat it after the meal.”

“Lucky for me I’m fully grown and can make my own choices.”

The muscle on Arthur’s jaw flexes. The impertinent audacity of this git. “You once again seem to be forgetting societal rank.”

“Hmm? Never heard of it.” Merlin takes another deliberate bite of his dessert and Arthur can’t stop his fond smile even with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

When they have had their fill and a comfortable silence falls over them Merlin finally broaches it.

“So,” He gives Arthur a side glance, “What did you wish for?”

Arthur turns his gaze away from the dancing flames of the hearth. “What?”

“Earlier, in the clearing.”

The king’s cheeks darken as he turns back to watch the fire. “Nothing.”

Merlin perks up, “Afraid it won’t come true?”

“Merlin.”

“Then why won’t you say?”

“Because I am the King of Camelot and don’t have to answer to you.”

“I think you’re just scared it won’t come true.”

Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose.

Merlin continues. “I was hungry so I wished for food.”

This finally gets Arthur to look at him again.

Of course. Arthur mentally slaps his forehead for not realizing before. “The strawberries?”

“Probably.” Merlin shrugs cheekily.

Arthur rolls his eyes.

“So, now that I’ve told you mine–.”

“No.”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to admit that you’re merely scared it won’t come true.”

“Fine! You pestilent oaf!” Arthur snaps, his cheeks flushing red, “I had wished for you to live in the castle with me.”

Arthur’s embarrassment palls slightly at the shock in Merlin’s eyes and the pretty flush that dusts his cheeks.

Despite the heat prickling his face Merlin can’t stop his soft smile. “Oh... That’s actually really sw–”

“Shut up.” Arthur grumbles but his eyes are alert and curious, taking note of Merlin’s endeared reaction.

Feeling a bit too flayed under Arthur’s gaze Merlin shuffles to his feet and starts stacking their plates.

Something pleased stirs low in the king’s stomach seeing his quick witted sorcerer grow flustered.

With his incessant need to ramble when nervous Merlin speaks up again. “You know, I really would have expected younger you to be more of a brat.”

Arthur scoffs a laugh, getting up from his seat and slowly moving to the other side of the table. “And yet I am wholly unsurprised that your disregard of precarious situations was just as prevalent in your early years.”

Merlin lines the stacks of plates together before standing straight and taking a half step back from the king. Merlin hasn’t the faintest clue how the power dynamic of this conversation so rapidly shifted.

There is something about Arthur that has always commanded deference, and no matter how practiced Merlin is at resisting it, he’s fated to aberrantly yield.

Arthur follows, stepping into the warlock’s space until the back of Merlin’s thighs hit the table, rattling the dinnerware.

Merlin swallows tightly, his heart jittering in his chest with nerves, excitement, and years of unasked questions and lingering looks.

Arthur stares at his flustered manservant, simultaneously enthralled and intrigued at the stark lack of impudence.

Arthur takes his time looking his fill, Merlin’s cheeks aflame, his skittery eyes locked over Arthur’s shoulder, his throat bobbing nervously.

“Merlin,” Arthur breathes his name out like both a purr and a sigh, bringing a hand to cup the side of his sorcerer’s face.

Merlin’s eyes dart to Arthur, the black of his pupils reflecting the gentle flickering of the hearth. The king’s hand is calloused and firm, the heat of his palm seeping through Merlin’s skin.

“I want to apologize.”

Merlin’s brow furrows as the majority of his nerves are replaced with confusion.

“For what I said about Will.” Arthur clarifies, his eyes swirling with remorse.

Merlin’s eyes soften as he lays a reassuring hand on Arthur’s chest, the fabric of his sleeping tunic thin beneath his touch. “You didn’t know, Arthur.”

Arthur’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the right words. “I– still, it was wrong of me to say and I apologize, deeply.”

Merlin opens his mouth to refute but Arthur cuts him off.

“But Merlin, I need you to know.” The king’s hand tenses on the side of Merlin’s face as his other curls imploringly around his servant’s hip. “That if you’re ever lost, I’ll come looking for you. And I won’t stop until you’re found.”

A pang of grief flares through Merlin’s chest as he thinks back to all the times Will had found him when his magic inevitably had him wandering too far from the village. Merlin gives his king a somber smile. “Thank you. That means a lot, truly, Arthur.”

“No– I– you don’t understand.” Arthur’s eyes flick between Merlin’s. The tip of his thumb nudges the dandelion still sat atop Merlin’s ear. “Merlin, I will always find you. I would crawl on my hands and knees to the corners of the earth to find you. You are everything to me…” Arthur’s voice cracks on the word. “…and I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

Merlin’s stomach flutters as if entrapping flower petals caught in a whirlwind. Nerves and magic hum restlessly just below his skin. Merlin’s tongue darts out to wet his woolen mouth. Arthur’s eyes dip to follow the movement.

“Merlin,” Arthur leans so their foreheads press together, his hand snaking from Merlin’s face to the nape of his neck. The pads of Arthur’s fingers tangle into Merlin’s hair. “I have been in love with you from the moment you came into my life, fists swinging.”

Merlin’s eyes widen in shock. “That long? Well, I knew I was charming but I–”

Merlin laughs into the kiss.

Arthur presses their lips together a fraction too forcefully, but that is how they do everything.

Merlin moves shyly against Arthur, his nerves rearing their head. He follows the king’s surprisingly gentle movements. Their lips brush softly against one another, as if testing the waters.

Sparks titter across Merlin’s skin at every teasing touch. It’s akin to a skittish dog getting its first taste of steak, quickly turning ravenous for more.

Arthur, having enough of holding back, tightens his hand in Merlin’s hair and deepens the kiss.

Merlin’s needy moan reverberates against Arthur’s chest, driving Arthur to lick and bite at his servant’s damningly enticing lips.

Merlin presses forward against Arthur, tangling his hands in Arthur’s hair, only for the king to press him back into the table, their bodies melding together.

When they part for air Merlin’s stomach swoops at the unabashed adoration and lust simmering in Arthur’s eyes.

Arthur’s kiss swollen lips crack into a smug smile.

“Erm,” Merlin fights through the fog of dazed pleasure clouding his brain, “I love you too.”

Arthur snorts. “Gee, thanks. But I gathered that by you letting me shove my tongue down your throat.”

Merlin’s cheeks blaze but he doesn’t break eye contact. “Sorry, I had thought maybe you couldn’t tell since I’m not constantly bending over backwards trying to impress you.”

Arthur thumps his head against Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin stifles a chuckle as he feels the heat through his tunic.

“Shut up.”

“It’s endearing.” Merlin teases, a hand running over the back of Arthur’s hair.

“I am The King of Camelot.” Arthur argues weakly.

“I never really noticed how much you did it before today.”

Arthur makes an annoyed sound, burrowing further into Merlin’s neck.

“Is that why you always have me tend to you during training when the other servants get to leave after setting up? Or why you take me on patrols?”

The lack of response is telling enough.

Merlin smiles, “Is it why you started to use larger words after I called you ‘supercilious’?”

“Shut up.” Arthur groans into his neck.

Merlin gasps, he tangles a hand in the front of Arthur’s tunic and pulls him back up right. “Is that why you make me go on hunts?!”

Arthur smiles cockily, “No, that one is just to annoy you.”

Merlin gives him an unimpressed look that has Arthur biting down a chuckle.

The king moves his hands to Merlin’s hips. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to try so much if you exalted me every once in a while.”

“Is that another one of the big words you learned?”

“God you are infuriating.”

“Oh, well I’m positive you know what that one means at least.”

They both smile into the kiss.