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Merlin sighed while he laid the plates on the red-blue striped picnic cloth and stopped a moment to look out over the lake. It looked beautiful like this, the water glowing in the fading light while the sun slowly went under, it was completely silent except for the sounds of the birds and the other animals. Through the years, the whole world had changed. Until even the air wasn’t the same anymore. Except for this little part of the world. The moment Merlin realized things were changing, he put a preservation and a special protection spell on the lake and it’s surroundings. The first to keep it this way, the other to prevent people from entering this area.
Merlin snapped out of his reverie to put the utensils and glasses on the cloth. When he was done he stared at it. He didn’t cry, he hadn’t cried for centuries, wasn’t even sure if his body still knew how to, just stared. Carefully he put a single twig of mistletoe between his own and the other plate, his hand didn’t shake anymore, it never did. He turned to the lake again. “Merry Christmas, you clotpole.” And the all wizened wizard sat like every christmas, alone, in front of a lake, waiting for his best friend to return. Merlin was disgusted to admit to himself that he didn’t really believe in Arthur’s return anymore. It was so long ago that even his immortal memory knew no more than a blur of blue, blond and red to go with the name of his old friend. He had written down all they had done and read it repeatedly, not remembering most of it. But he never was a competent artist, so at one point he had forgotten what his king looked like. It was so long ago, he had waited so long, that his emotions dulled and he started to wonder what the point was. This was his last christmas at the lake, afterwards he would kill himself so he could finally be with his king. But first he would spend the night here, like always, wishing his king back, even though he didn’t really believe anymore.
Suddenly, when the sun just touched the horizon, something changed. A ripple appeared on the lake, a ripple that soon turned into full waves, coming from a point somewhere in the middle of the lake. Merlin stood up, alarmed. What was happening? Was the lake feeling him giving up? Was it trying to give him false hope? He walked away from his blanket and to the lake, stopping a meter away from it. The waves grew bigger till the water leapt at his feet, a mini-tornado was circling the center. Suddenly it disappeared and in its place. No, NO. He couldn’t be real, could he? Merlin stared into the blue eyes of his best friend, the blue he had missed for so long, and realized that if this was an illusion, he would not survive it. “Not that dead after all, eh Merlin?” Then suddenly, Arthur smirked and oh, how he missed that arrogant face. His body wasn’t his own anymore while he ran, into the icy water and to his friend. Arthur just stood there, looking slightly dazed but smirking anyway.
Merlin didn’t know what he expected. To run straight through Arthur, maybe? To turn around and find out he had been an illusion after all? Whatever it was, it wasn’t the solid body he crashed into when he ran full speed against his king. Arthur grunted when he was suddenly burdened with Merlin’s full body weight (which, granted, wasn’t much). “Merlin?” God, how much Merlin had missed that voice. Arthur sounded shaky and confused and it was the best sound ever. The warlock encircled his kings body with his arms, and before he knew it he was gripping the chain mail tighter than he had ever clutched something and pressed his body against Arthur’s as hard as he could, trying to convince himself that it was fake, that he would wake up more hurt than ever. But he couldn’t. “Merlin? Are you hugging me?” Arthur sounded so indignant and it was perfect, just so perfect that he heard himself letting out a shaky laugh. He started to shake. Was this what shock felt like? Arthur seemed to feel very insecure when he realized that, yes, Merlin was shaking like a leaf and clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping him from falling in a pit of despair. Merlin took a deep smell, reveling in the smell of sweat, blood, iron and those little breads Arthur loved. It smelled amazing, it smelled like Arthur. Any moment now, the king would recover from his shock, he would push Merlin away and shout at him like he always did. He would be angry and Merlin would have to make up for it, but it was worth it, he had wanted to touch his king again for 1479 years.
Arthur straightened up. Any moment now, Merlin knew, and he let himself enjoy his king’s body for one last moment. But instead of the hard hands pushing him away, soft arms encircled his shaking body and a soft voice spoke in his ear, full of concern. “Merlin? What’s wrong?” And that did it, that was the last straw. A sob escaped his lips and for the first time in 600 years, Merlin cried. Heavy sobs wreaked his body while he clung to his lost friend. One of Arthur’s strong calloused hands snaked up and held his head, pressing his face against this kings shoulder, while the other traced calming circles in his back. Merlin wanted to stop, he didn’t want Arthur to see him like this, so weak. Beside, his king was probably feeling really awkward right now, and Merlin didn’t want to do that to him. But he couldn’t stop crying, and when he tried to pull away, Arthur held on firmly, making it clear that he wouldn’t let go. Instead he pressed his nose in Merlin’s neck and left a fleeting kiss there, hardly noticeable but Merlin definitely noticed and he realized that: No, Arthur wasn’t feeling awkward. And maybe he could think of himself just for one moment and let himself sink into the safety of Arthur’s arms. So he did just that. He cried and cried for what felt like hours. All the while, Arthur’s hands made soothing patterns in his skull and back, while his voice murmured soothing nonsense. “I’m here, I’m here Merlin”
Merlin had never felt so safe before.
When he finally pulled away he looked into his king’s eyes and he took in everything about him. The shape of his jaw, the exact color of his eyes, the texture of his lips, everything. He never wanted to forget his face again. Merlin smiled, his wide goofy smile that made his eyes turn into crescent moons and for which he was so famous in Camelot. He hadn’t smiled that way since Arthur died. Arthur smiled back, but the worry still lingered in his eyes. It was nice to have someone worry about him for a change. It was then that Merlin realized they were still in thigh deep water, in the middle of the winter, and it was fucking cold! He grasped Arthur’s hand in his, and held on tight. Arthur looked surprised but didn’t pulled away. Merlin was glad, because he wasn’t ready to release him anytime soon. Calmly they walked to the shore, hand in hand, and Merlin was so happy it felt like he was walking on a cloud.
When they reached the shore, Merlin led his prince to his picnic cloth, absentmindedly drying their clothes with magic. Suddenly Arthur stood still, a look of confusion on his face. Merlin was about to ask him what was wrong, but the king was faster. “Merlin ... What is that? And what in gods name are you wearing?!” The king added when he turned around and noticed Merlin’s 21st century clothes. Before Merlin could answer, Arthur continued. “I almost die and your first instinct is to change into the most ridiculous clothes I have ever seen? Seriously? When did you even find time to do all this? I couldn’t have been out that long. And why was I in the lake? Was it so those lake fairies could cure me?” Merlin stared at Arthur and realized with a sinking feeling in his gut that the prince didn’t realize, didn’t know. How was he going to tell him? His tongue wiped over his lips, which had suddenly turned dry, Arthur’s eyes were transfixed on the movement. It made Merlin even more nervous. “Uhm, they’re called Sidhe actually.” Arthur stared at Merlin like the man had lost his mind. “Who cares what they are called Merlin. What are you hiding?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Merlin hurried to reassure him, he wouldn’t hide anything from Arthur, not anymore, it was never worth it. “I’m not hiding anything Arthur. I just don’t know where to start.” Arthur’s face softened when he saw how distressed Merlin was and when he spoke his voice was almost a whisper, “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
Right. That was probably the wisest. Merlin tried to look as reassuring as he could when he said: “Arthur, you didn’t pass out. You died. Like: actually died.” Arthur froze a look of fear and confusion on his face. Merlin hated it. “What? How? But I’m here, so I can’t be dead.” “Please Arthur, sit down, and let me explain” Merlin guided Arthur, who was swaying, to sit on the picnic cloth and sat next to him. He took a deep breath, and explained. “When you died...” Merlin had to stop here for a moment to regain his bearings “... K-Kilgharrah said that you would one day come back. When Albion needed you the most. B-But I knew that you would n-need h-help. S-So I decided to w-wait. And ... and I-I’ve b-been waiting ... a-and” Merlin was crying again, and stuttering. It was embarrassing, he had cried more today than he had in centuries. But telling Arthur about his own death was harder than he ever anticipated. He felt an arm sneak around his shoulders, a second on soon following. Arthur pushed him against his own body and before Merlin knew it, he was crying against Arthur’s shoulder again. “Oh, Merlin. I am so sorry that I did that to you, that I made you go through that. I ... I” Droplets landed on his shoulder and Merlin realized with a shock that Arthur was crying too. Arthur never cried. Merlin immediately felt guilty. He pulled out of Arthur’s embrace just enough to look him in the eyes. He cupped his face into his hands and was surprised when Arthur let him. His thump stroke over the kings cheeks, brushing away the tears. “Don’t cry Arthur, please don’t cry” “I left you alone Merlin. I left you to grieve and to wait, all on your own. How do you not hate me?” “Oh, Arthur, I could never hate you”
They hugged for a while and cried now and then, until Merlin pulled back, a huge grin on his face, feeling like a giant weight was lifted from his shoulders. “Come on, it’s christmas! Or as you know it: Yuletide! Let’s stop crying, Arthur! And let’s celebrate that you are back!” Arthur smiled back at him. So Merlin went to sit by his own plate and got out the food. It wasn’t much, Merlin didn’t expect Arthur to be there after all. But a quick spell and it was multiplied. Arthur looked strangely at the food and didn’t take a bite until Merlin swallowed one, but the moment he did take a bite, his eyes widened so much it was hilarious. Merlin had a hard time keeping from laughing when a huge grin came over Arthur’s face and he started to wolf down his food. Merlin himself ate at a far more sedate pace.
When Arthur was finished with his food he watched Merlin eat for a while. The warlock didn’t notice the strange look on his face but was staring off into the distance. It was clear that his mind was completely elsewhere, so Arthur took this chance. He knew that something more had happened, cause him dying didn’t explain the strange clothing and food. “Say, Merlin?” Merlin hummed noncommittally “How long was I dead exactly.” Merlin didn’t miss a beat with answering. “one thousand four hundred seventy-nine years, six months, three weeks and four days.”
Arthur choked on his saliva and felt his food coming straight back up again. 1479 years?! 1479 YEARS?! No wonder everything was different. How was Merlin even alive? What did he do all those years? But less hurtful than the time, was the fact that the boy knew exactly how long it had been. To the very day! That broke Arthur’s heart more than anything. Cause knowing it so exactly could only mean one thing. Even after all those years, Merlin hadn’t moved on. It meant that Merlin didn’t travel, didn’t fall in love, didn’t have kids, didn’t live. Not really. That he spent all his time waiting, just for him. He waited for fucking 1479 years! Now Arthur looked a little closer he could see it in his eyes: the years, the pain, Merlin had gone through. His body was young, but his eyes were as old as the sky.“Y-You mean ... you ...” Merlin seemed to snap out of his trance and realized what he just said. He blushed furiously and turned his face to his food. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that. “I’m sorry. That was too sudden, I should have eased you in it.”
Arthur could only stare at the man that just admitted to waiting for him for almost 15 centuries, because some vague dragon told him to and then got angry at himself for maybe upsetting him. Did Merlin ever thought of himself? Arthur knew the answer. No, he didn’t, not if there was Arthur to think about too. “Arthur, are you alright?” The king looked up in the worried eyes of his lifelong friend and realized that his eyes were watering again. He leaned forward and threw his arms around Merlin in a bone crushing hug. He felt the warlock hugging him back, saying soothing words. It felt wrong, it should be Arthur soothing Merlin, instead of the other way around. Why didn’t Merlin realized that Arthur wanted to take care of him? ‘Because nobody had ever taken care of him before’ a dark voice in his head whispered. Arthur didn’t want to listen to it, but in his heart he knew it was true. Merlin had been alone for too long. Arthur just wanted to cuddle him and kiss him and ... Wait .... hold on ...
Arthur had always known he felt more for Merlin than just a servant-master relationship, even more than friends do. But, he didn’t feel that for him, did he? Arthur was thoroughly confused now, but decided to put these thoughts away for later. There were more important things to do now. He pulled himself out of his friends embrace. And when the warlock asked him worriedly if he was okay, he laughed and said he was fine. Because he was. Mostly. He was shaky and still shocked from all that happened, but everything was going to be fine. He knew it for sure. Cause as long as he and Merlin were together, there was nothing they couldn’t do. There was much they had to solve, not in the least these newfound feelings. But for now, they were content to just sit there, in the fading light and celebrate the day of peace. Together.
Arthur had never felt so at peace before. One look at Merlin told him he felt the same.