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“There is a god hiding within Camelot’s walls.”
Arthur assumed that Uther had expected a reaction of outrage to his words; instead, he was met with confused silence. He could very much understand that, after all, he was also confused by his father’s words. Usually, the magical threat of the week was announced in this tone, but a god was quite a different thing from a sorcerer on the loose.
“Father, how did you come to this conclusion?”
Truthfully, Arthur had no idea what his father was on about. In recent months, he had grown even more paranoid than usual, and the prince had had to deal with quite a few far-fetched accusations of magic that he quietly ignored behind his father’s back. But usually, there was at least a vaguely clear thought behind his father’s accusations. He had no idea how the king had come to the conclusion that a god was hiding in Camelot, much less why a god would ever do such a thing, and even less what Arthur, or anyone in fact, should be doing about such a thing. He might be able to defeat various magic creatures, often with pure luck, but a god, a divine being of the Old Religion, was not a match for any knight. Arthur liked to think that he was the best knight in Camelot, but even in his occasional hot-headedness, he was very aware that he was neither invincible nor all-powerful. If his father was somehow right about this, there was truly no way for Arthur to win against a god.
“Yesterday, one of the kitchen maids came to me to inform me of an act of sorcery. The kitchen staff noticed that the last pieces of the game you hunted two weeks ago were overlooked because they had not begun to rot at all. They are still as fresh as if they had been brought in just today.”
“Father, while this surely is something to investigate, how does this lead to the conclusion of a god?”
He really tried to keep his tone interested and compliant, but the glare Uther sent in his direction told him that he had not succeeded as much as he would have liked.
“Son, have you noticed how in the past five years the only illnesses that have plagued the town have been of magical nature, when before each winter many would die from ailments Gaius could not cure? Or how the crops only keep growing better with each year, when before no farmer could predict which years the harvest would be good? Or the way fewer women have died in childbirth in the past five years than in one year before then? The way the wares our craftsmen produce hold longer, despite them being made the same exact way? This can be no coincidence; we must find the god who is responsible for this.”
Had Arthur’s silence been due to confusion before, now it was from revulsion. He had listened to his father’s speeches about the evil of magic since he could remember; they had always been rooted in some kind of truth, even if his father’s perspective was clearly skewed by his hatred, yet today it seemed Uther had finally succumbed to his madness. The thought that his father could not see that every reason to find this god he had just spoken of brought prosperity to Camelot’s people filled Arthur with dread.
“My lord, I know of the evils of magic, but if this god has been here for the past five years and has caused nothing but better health and prosperity to our people, could it not be that he means Camelot no harm?”
The question fell from his lips rather hesitantly. If Uther truly had succumbed to madness,s there was no telling how far Arthur could question him before his rage would turn against his son. It had happened in the past, and Arthur was not eager to repeat these instances.
“A being of the Old Religion is loose in Camelot, who knows what he is planning! We must find him and kill him to ensure our safety!”
Arthur sighed internally and bowed his head. “Of course father, I will immediately gather my knights.”
There was no use in openly defying Uther and risking landing himself in the dungeons before he had found out what was going on himself. If his father’s theory was right, he would very much like to get to the god first to strike peace. And perhaps thank him for taking care of his people in a way no ruler would be able to.
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Leon was staring at him with a mix of disbelief and proud approval. His first knight and oldest friend clearly approved of his plan to find the theorised god and offer peace. Perhaps it was due to the years Leon had spent serving under Uther and all the violence he had seen that now led him to be more empathetic towards magic users. It was certainly how Arthur felt himself; he could not wait for the day when he was finally able to rule in a way that served all his people. Perhaps the day had finally come.
While knights searched the city for any trace that could lead to a god, Arthur returned to his chambers in the evening. Since the morning, he had looked forward to discussing the day’s events with Merlin and hearing the man’s opinion on it. It had become their evening routine. While having dinner and getting ready for bed, they would go through all the things that had happened during the day, from topics discussed in meetings to the newest gossip circulating in the castle. Nothing was left unmentioned, nothing left undiscussed. Arthur truly had grown to appreciate Merlin’s insight; his manservant had a way of giving Arthur a new perspective on anything. He often reminded him of how something might impact the people in the lower town, and explained to him what fear and desperation could do to people.
Merlin was already in his chambers when Arthur arrived, seemingly busying himself with folding laundry while also reading through a speech that Arthur had been working on. Were it anyone else, Arthur would have been doubting that either of the two tasks was being completed well, but Merlin was surprisingly good at multitasking. The man looked up when Arthur closed the door behind himself and immediately raised an eyebrow.
“Well, you look rather gloomy today. What happened now?”
Ignoring the quip at his facial expression, Arthur walked over to his dining table, where dinner had already been served. For all the times he called Merlin useless, he truly was incredibly efficient every once in a while. As he took a sip of wine, Merlin sat down next to him and promptly stole a piece of meat from his plate. It earned him a glare, but he did not seem to mind. Truthfully, neither did Arthur; it had become their routine over the years, especially once he had noticed that Merlin rarely took time out of his day to eat, he had sneakily started requesting bigger portions for all his meals.
“Seriously, Arthur, what is going on? You are rarely in such a bad mood, and we don’t want you to think too much, lest you manage to hurt yourself.”
“I think my father has finally succumbed to madness.”
“Not to sound treasonous or something, but you think he only did that now?”
Of course, because if Merlin added a ‘I’m not saying this in a treason kind of way’ before insulting the king, it was clearly much better and not an offence that he would usually be thrown in the dungeon for. Good thing Arthur had no plans of the sort.
“He has gotten this crazy idea in his head that Camelot is home to a god, and he somehow wants me to hunt him down”
Arthur had expected another joke about the king’s state of mind, instead Merlin choked on his bite and started coughing violently. Through the, admittedly very concerning, coughing attack, the man wheezed out a shocked ‘He said what?’.
Apparently, Merlin had decided to simply ignore the fact that he was still half gasping for air, and so, despite his concern, Arthur chose to follow his example. It never ended well if Merlin was hell-bent on ignoring a problem and others tried to bring it up.
“Well, as you know, my father has had quite many absurd ideas when it comes to magic in his day, but unfortunately, this time his hatred seems to have fully clouded his judgment. Mind you, of course, the presence of a god might seem rather concerning at first, but with the evidence the king has provided, it seems we have nothing to fear of him; his presence seems to make the city prosper like never before.”
While Merlin’s voice was still a bit raspy, at least he seemed to have stopped himself from fully choking on his dinner.
“How on earth did he even get the idea of a god? I was not aware your father even believed in the gods, I mean, I guess he also does not believe in magical creatures, but we frequently encounter them…”
He trailed off and stared into space for a moment. Truly, Arthur had thought about this before, too. With the purge, Uther had also tried his best to eradicate the old religion, mostly because many aspects of it related to magic, but the fact that magical creatures and magic did exist made it very possible that the gods of the old religion were equally real. If they did exist, well, they surely were less than happy with Uther’s actions and further with Camelot as a whole. Then why would there be a god willing to help Camelot, even if only with his presence?
He voiced his thoughts to Merlin, who looked at him with wisdom in his eyes in the way he sometimes got right before proving yet again that he was much more than a clumsy idiot.
“I know we rarely encounter them, but there are beings of magic who do not pray for revenge, Arthur. Your father may have slaughtered them, but he is only mortal; a new era is approaching, and you will be the one to bring it. If you look for them, you might find that many believe in peace and the fact that you will bring it, so do not be surprised by a magical being offering you assistance.”
The way Merlin spoke almost sent a shiver down Arthur’s spine. He spoke like his words were a certainty, as if there was no question to the utter devotion he had for Arthur. That apparently many people had for him. Of course, it was not the first time Merlin had ever mentioned such a thing, his throwaway comments about devotion that were a bit too serious to just ignore, but this time, there was more than just blind loyalty; this time, there was also a feeling in the air. A feeling that Merlin was infinitely wiser than he, that he knew much more than Arthur could ever hope to know. For a moment, there was a tension in the room as if Merlin’s presence had suddenly become bigger, taking up more room and pushing against Arthur. The man was still looking at him, unnervingly, as if he were trying to place his words directly in Arthur’s mind.
For a moment, the air stood still. Arthur could have sworn that the sounds of the city had ceased to exist, but when they came back to him, they sounded sharper, louder in a way he had never heard them in his life. He blinked a few times, trying to understand what had just happened before he managed to actually think about Merlin’s words.
“Do you think this god would be willing to forge peace with me? The way it seems right now, my father will not be able to rule much longer; it is truly only a matter of a few pointed statements in front of the consellours before they decide that Uther must give up the throne. This means ordering this stupid hunt for someone who seems to be our ally more than anything else might be his last order as king; no one would be able to disagree if my first act as king were to form an alliance to benefit Camelot.”
He looked up to see Merlin’s reactions and found the man staring at him, his head slightly tilted as if in thought. It was perhaps one of his favourite subconcious reactions Merlin exhibited. Right beside the way, he involuntarily smiled when Arthur made a terrible joke, or how he scowled when something annoyed him.
“So, how exactly do you plan on finding this god? Please tell me you won’t just go around accusing the first magic user you find. Uther is still in power, and he won’t be lenient, not when it is a random mortal he can actually kill.”
And there was the problem. Truly, Arthur had not a single idea how to find a god that had stayed perfectly hidden inside Camelot’s walls for five years. Sure, he had sent out the knight to search the town, but realistically, they would find nothing, and Arthur did not expect them to actually bring results. It had more of a way to convince his father that he was following his orders, to buy some time until he could find the god himself before Uther could get to him.
He explained his thoughts to Merlin and only got an almost mischievous smile back. Honestly, it made him a bit nervous every time his manservant seemed to be plotting, and now was not an exception.
“Well, good luck hunting down a god then, Sire.”
He tried to stifile the urge to throw his goblet at the man.
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The next evening found Morgana in his chambers, the door harshly closing behind her. He rarely saw his sister these days, as she could clearly not stomach spending time around Uther, as he only fell deeper and deeper into his hatred. Morgana had always been prone to scream at him, but it had always fallen on deaf ears, and it seemed she had finally given up on trying to change Uther and focused on changing the people around her instead. Judging by her facial expression, it was a good thing that she had not been present to hear Uther’s orders.
“Arthur, do you even realise what you are doing, bending to our father’s mad will yet again?”
At least this answered his worry about his plans being obvious; if Morgana could not see his actual goal, then Uther certainly could not. After all, it was certainly not him from whom his daughter had inherited her sharp mind.
“Morgana, I assure you I see through father’s absurdity and am not aiding him in his mad mission.”
The sentence earned him a sceptically raised eyebrow, and not for the first time, he wondered if perhaps Gaius was going around teaching this skill to all he held dear. Morgana had leaned her hands on the desk and stared down at him from the other side of the wooden surface, and while he would never admit to it, she was perhaps the most intimidating and imposing person he knew. His father’s disappointed stare held nothing to the way Morgana would look at you as if she thought you naive and subordinate.
“Well then, please enlighten me on what you are planning if it is not in fact to curse Camelot and all its people by disrespecting a god who has so far willingly helped us?”
“I plan on finding him and offering him peace.”
It was rare that someone managed to surprise Morgana, and he felt a spark of pride about the way her sceptical facial expression faltered for a moment.
“You are not yet king, Arthur; father will sooner see you thrown in the dungeons than allow you to make peace with magic.”
A quality he had always admired in Morgana, even when they had just been children, was her bright mind and her power of deduction. There was no need to tell her his plan in detail; she would always understand the underlying meanings.
Arthur had no doubt that Morgana would support him in his plan; she had hated Uther for years now and would be glad to see him off the throne, and yet he was wondering about her reaction. He had no doubt that his sister would support him as king, but a part of him still worried if perhaps she had changed her mind and wished for the throne to be hers after all.
He took a moment to finally put aside the quill he had been holding for the entire conversation, forgotten in his hand as soon as Morgana had harshly opened the door. He looked up at her, and she raised her eyebrow as if to say, “Well, speak already”. Patience was not always one of her strengths.
“Then it is a good thing that Uther’s rule is coming to an end.”
Arthur had anticipated her to be surprised, perhaps taken aback by his bold admission. He had not anticipated the way her face contorted into a proud smile.
“Would you look at that, the prince is finally growing a backbone.”
The words were taunting, but there was too much fondness in her eyes for him to think that she truly meant them, especially since she had known about all his secret plans of defying his father for all these years.
“It is time for a new era, wouldn’t you agree?”
Morgana fixed her posture to stand tall in front of his desk, and if possible, it made her look even more regal. Arthur was sure that if she wanted to, she would have made a wonderful queen.
“I would.”
As she turned to leave, she looked back at him with a smile.
“Tell me what I can do to help, and it shall be yours. I will gladly see what you make of Camelot.”
He returned the smile as he was filled with fondness for his sister. How had he ever dared to doubt her unconditional support?
“What we make of Camelot.”
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Arthur quietly regretted that he had not already taken power. In his search for the god, he had completely forgotten that while most knights were loyal to him first, there were a few who still worked in Uther’s interest. And while his knights had refrained from arresting random citizens, Uther’s had certainly not. There were three people currently sitting in a cell, arrested for harbouring a magic user, and the accused man was kneeling just a few meters away. Arthur tried to assess the situation, letting his gaze wander over the bound hands and the aftermath of a not very gentle arrest on the man’s skin, without drawing his father’s suspicion about possible sympathy. Neither did he dare turn to see Morgana, who had followed Uther’s call again after months of refusing to enter the Great Hall. He could only imagine the murderous thoughts in her brain.
While Arthur could not tell if the man was actually a magic user, it was very clear that he was not a god. There was nothing divine about him, only a man who was currently going through his worst nightmare and knew that he would not make it out alive. At least not if Arthur didn’t do something about it anytime soon.
“Have you been sent here to carry out the rage of the gods? Are they mad that I have freed the people from their tyranny?”
Arthur would have contemplated the irony of Uther Pendragon calling someone else a tyrant, but he was unfortunately rather busy trying to figure out a way to stop this whole charade. If there had ever been a time to publicly get Uther off the throne, clearly it was now. The whole council, many of the staff and quite a few nosy town folk had gathered in the throne room. And he had Morgana to support him; after she had been officially claimed by Uther years ago, her opinion finally held weight. If Arthur declared his right ot the throne now, there were enough witnesses, and more importantly, the right witnesses there, and the news would reach the whole of Camelot quickly.
He only faintly noticed the conversations around him, knew it was his father spewing terrible, illogical allegations, and the man begging that he had no idea what they were talking about, but he instead let his thoughts and gaze wander. Was he truly ready to defy his father so openly? He had planned to take power more subtly, convincing the council one by one that the rumours about Uther’s declining mental state were true, but this, openly declaring his father to be an unfit ruler right to his face, was quite a different thing. As he frantically ran through his options, his thoughts came to a sudden halt as he realised something: Merlin was not in attendance. He could not think of a time when Merlin had not stood behind him or at least leaned somewhere against the walls when his father called for an audience. Yet now the man was missing, and Arthur realised he had not seen him since that morning.
He resisted the urge to frantically look around the room, but he knew he would not find anything, and it would only alert his father. Before he could wonder further why Merlin was absent, he was brought back to the conversation by his father ordering a pyre to be built in the courtyard. Which meant his time to overthink was officially over.
He dared to look over at Morgana and noticed how she was slowly reaching towards her belt, where an ornamented dagger hung from her belt — he had gifted it to her a few years before — and he suddenly realised that if he would not stand up first, Morgana would do so with the intent to kill.
There was only a second in between the moment he stood up and the moment the doors crashed open, barely enough time for Uther to look in his direction before his gaze was caught by the entrance to the Hall.
“What on earth do you think you are doing?”
Arthur had seen his best friend mad many times before; more often than not, such emotions were directed at Arthur because he had managed to upset him again, but nothing compared to the fury with which Merlin was looking at Uther from across the Great Hall.
His father’s face was contorted in anger as he jumped up and barked at the guards to seize Merlin, but none of them reacted. It seemed Uther was the only person who had not noticed the way Merlin’s presence seemed to fill the room and lock them all in place in something akin to fear. Perhaps it simply meant that Uther’s mind was truly gone, to not be able to perceive an obvious threat.
As Merlin slowly walked towards them, Arthur had to concentrate not take a step back. He recognised the feeling from the other night, realised only now that he had certainly not just imagined it.
“Let the man go, he did nothing wrong.”
Merlin gestured to the shaking man still on his knees, who now looked up at Merlin as if he had seen a miracle.
“I will do no such thing. He is a god that has infiltrated our walls!”
There was a moment of silence after the outburst, in which Merlin simply stared at him, his head slightly tilted. Had the situation not been as delicate, Arthur would have thought about how adorable it looked.
“You would not know a god if he stood right in front of you, Uther Pendragon.”
Oh.
Oh.
And to think Arthur had ever worried about the god perhaps not accepting his offer of peace.
Next to him, his father had suddenly grown pale and was stuttering. Had this happened in any other situation, Arthur would have been greatly amused, but right now, he was rather busy fearing for Merlin’s safety and trying to compute that Merlin had just admitted to being a god. His Merlin. That would take some getting used to. He looked over at Morgana and, to his surprise, only saw curiosity and wonder in her eyes. Had she perhaps already speculated about Merlin’s identity?
Uther seemed to gather himself again and ordered the guards to arrest Merlin once again, with no reaction once again. All the people gathered had visibly backed away and did not dare move. After receiving no reaction to his order, Uther frantically looked around with hate-filled eyes.
“How dare you disobey me? I am your king, and I order you to arrest this man.”
The only reaction he got was a sigh from Merlin, who looked rather annoyed. As if the king ordering his arrest was nothing but a minor inconvenience to him. Perhaps it wasn’t.
“Well, that is all very lovely, but I do not have time for this.”
His voice and face turned softer, if only a minuscule bit; no one except for Arthur probably even noticed it.
“I fear, your time is over, Uther.”
Arthur had only learned a few moments ago that Merlin even had magic, but as he now witnessed it for the first time, he wondered how he had ever been able to live without such a beautiful sight. Melrin’s eyes turned golden as if the sun herself had illuminated them, and Arthur watched in awe as his father’s crown lifted from his head and floated in the air above him. His father’s reaction to this fell from his mind as Merlin took a few steps towards him and looked him in the eyes. A reassuring smile grazed Merlin’s lips, and as he softly formed the word “kneel” on them, Arthur willingly obeyed.
He could feel it as the weight of the crown slowly lowered on his head, but he could not stop staring at Merlin. Merlin, who had begun to speak.
“I crown you, Arthur Pendragon, rightful heir to the throne of Camelot, her King. May you lead with a kind heart and a just mind, for your reign has been foretold by the gods. And may your lands thrive under your rule, for you have been blessed by the god of magic.”
Some part of him knew that Merlin’s voice was carrying far and wide, beyond the walls of the castle, but all he could think about was the utter devotion in his words. Merlin was looking down at him, afond smile on his face as he spoke, and Arthur wondered what he would possibly be able to do to deserve such a thing.
“Arise, Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, King of man and magic, and take your rightful place on the throne, under the banners of peace.”
Later, Arthur would wonder why Uther had not tried to interfere once as he took a seat on the throne, but perhaps it was simply Merlin’s magic. Just like the Pendragon red banners that suddenly lined the hall, or the flowers that climbed up the walls and ceiling. Just like the flowers that started to bloom in every crevice in the roads and every grain of soil that could be found in the city. Even weeks later, they would hear reports from sudden thriving flora all across the kingdom, and every time Arthur would scoldingly turn to Merlin, only to see the man blush in embarrassment.
But in the moment, Arthur could only stare at Merlin as he moved to the side to allow the gathered people to see their new king. He was pretty sure there had been clapping and shouts of joy. But he could only look at Merlin, still wearing the clothes of a servant, but covered in intricate silver patterns that seemed alive on the fabrics, with golden eyes and a circlet made of branches and stars in his dark hair, and Arthur had never seen anything as beautiful ever before. He could feel a gentle hand landing on his shoulder and reached up to place his own there, silently thanking Morgana for standing beside him.
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That evening found Arthur in his chambers, standing by the window and gazing down at the city. It usually seemed peaceful in the dark, when the only people still awake were the drunkards in the taverns and the guards on duty. Tonight, the city was alive with light and music. For a moment, he wondered how his father was feeling, sitting in his chambers and realising they were celebrating the end of this reign. But the thought was gone again quickly as he looked at the patterns of magic that were painted across the sky by the celebrating magic users. He wondered if Merlin was one of them, if perhaps he and Morgana had joined the people in celebration. His thoughts were interrupted and answered as the door was opened without a knock, and Merlin entered the room.
“I thought you might have joined the celebrations.”
He turned away from the window to watch Merlin walk towards him. The glow had not yet vanished, nor had the circlet in his hair or the stars in his tunic, and Arthur wondered if this was how he would always look from now on, now that there was no reason to hide anymore, and how Arthur was expected to function around him then.
“Wouldn’t be much fun without you there.”
There was a short moment in which Meriln simply looked at him as if to try and decipher his thoughts from his face alone, then he continued in a much softer tone.
“And I think we should talk.”
Just as countless nights before, they sat down by the fire, a goblet of wine between them, because Arthur had learned long ago that Merlin would refuse his own and then simply steal Arthur’s. Merlin was staring into the fire as if he hoped to find the answer to a difficult question in the flames. Arthur wondered if that method might work for him, too.
“Merlin? You know you could have told me, right?”
The question seemed to float through the air between them as if not to disturb the peace. When it landed on Merlin’s shoulder, it made a soft smile appear on his face.
“How do you explain to someone that you are a god, Arthur? I just never knew how, and then I started to think that you might be safer not knowing.”
“I have no idea, I probably would have called you an idiot, but just…I wish I could have been there for you; it could not have been easy to be in Camelot and all alone.”
Merlin turned his head towards him, and in the firelight, his blue eyes glowed almost as if he were using magic right that moment. He pulled his legs towards himself and lay his head on his knees, and Arthur wondered how a god could possibly be hiding in the form of such an innocent man. Because that was truly the only thing that did not add up in his mind, Merlin had always been wise beyond his years, had always been uniquely connected to the world, had always possessed ethereal beauty unmatched by any other Arthur had ever seen, but Merlin was much too innocent to be all-powerful.
“I am rather used to being alone; it makes no difference where I am, but yes, I wish I could have confided in you. I have always cherished you much more than I should.”
The admission made a warmth coiling around Arthur’s heart that had nothing to do with the fire he was sitting in front of. He had always hoped that perhaps Merlin was as fond of him as he was of the man, but he had never dared to voice these thoughts. To hear him admit to them now, especially in such a way, made a dangerous hope bloom in his heart.
“Didn’t we say once that if I were not a prince, we would have been great friends? And all this time you were above me in every way.”
It made an almost nostalgic smile appear on Merlin’s face, as if he were remembering the exact moment.
“Well, you are a king now, and technically I am not so different from you, you know.”
“You are a deity, Merlin, what on earth do you mean?”
At his words, Merlin turned towards him fully, one side of his face illuminated by flames while the other was clouded in shadows.
“I might be a god, but I have also just lived in this body for my mortal life. I know that I existed before that, but I can’t really remember all about it. I think that it would probably overwhelm this mortal form. So, in the end, I am still younger than you in a way. And really, the only thing that makes me special beyond that is my magic.”
“You mean the thing you are literally the god of?”
“I guess so.”
Arthur vaguely noticed that they had moved closer in the time they had been talking, and he had to remind himself that he was allowed now, that his father had no power anymore, and there were no secrets left between them. He was allowed to indulge even if it was only by being near Merlin and sitting closer than he had ever allowed himself to. Because as much as he would have liked to think that the little problem of Merlin being a servant was solved, in its place had stepped a new one of Merlin being a god, and just as princes could not court servants, kings could not court gods, no matter how much they wanted to.
“I think you are much more than your magic.”
He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Was this an insult to a god? But then again, this was still Merlin, no matter if he was an eternal deity or just a terrible manservant, it was still Merlin.
Merlin was right in front of him, eyes open and bright. More mesmerising here in his chambers than he had ever been with magic at the tips of his fingers and words of devotion on his lips. This was the version of Merlin he adored, the way he thrived when he was free from all boundaries and could simply exist around Arthur, and now he could do so more than ever, and Arthur could not look away.
“What am I if not magic?”
Normally, Arthur would have worried that the words were perhaps spoken in a self-conscious manner, that perhaps Merlin had grown to only think of himself as someone who could offer magic, and he was sure a part of him was indeed thinking that, and they would adress it another day, but right now Merlin was teasing him and he could have not been more pleased.
“Well, for starters, you are the most useless manservant in all of Albion, you are the clumsiest person I have ever met, and you are chronically unable to shut your mouth when you really should.”
Merlin was grinning at him now, way too close for Arthur to have any thought that did not circle around the man, so truly it was good that he was the topic of conversation anyway. He simply decided to ignore that his voice grew more breathless by the second, and how, not a moment ago, he had sworn to not get too close.
“You are the most loyal and devoted advisor I have ever met. You are terribly wise when you want to be; it infuriates me. You understand people in a way I could never dream of, and you always know the answer to any problem that no one else could possibly understand. You are radiant, in the way you can make people laugh, in the way you always know exactly how to lighten a situation, in the way the sun catches in your hair and fire reflects in your eyes. You are the most breathtaking thing I have ever seen.”
There was a short moment when Arthur thought he might have ruined everything, when Merlin seemed frozen in shock, and he was not sure if it was a good or a bad thing. The next moment, he had a lap full of Merlin, and soft lips were eagerly pressing against his own. The world seemed to move in second intervals as Arthur reacted slowly and reached to pull Merlin even closer, as he could feel hands tangling into his hair, holding him in place. He lost himself in the feeling he had been craving for years now and allowed himself to embrace it for once. Then his brain began to work again, and he abruptly broke the kiss.
“Merlin, Merlin, we can’t, you…”
Any other time would have been utterly embarrassed by how out of breath he sounded. But this was more important; he felt as if he had dared to defile a holy place, and he did not want to learn about the consequences such actions had.
There was a hand on his cheek, turning his face to look at Merlin, and he noticed how the huge gap he thought he had created between their bodies was barely existent. When Merlin spoke, he breathed the words into Arthur’s mouth rather than anything else, but he could not get himself to say that he minded.
“I am a god, Arthur, that means that not only do rules not apply to me, I rewrite them to fit what I want, and I could not care less that you are mortal.”
Had there been any thoughts left in Arthur’s mind, he would have marvelled at how Merlin always managed to know exactly what was happening in his brain, but unfortunately, he was rather busy.