Where Legends Begin

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"Of course I still have your signet ring, you forgetful oaf! You gave it to me! I swear, it's like you can't even-" Merlin had been shouting back at Arthur, but held up a finger mid-sentence, stilling both her own voice and his and then she smiles at her King and speaks softly, all traces of fury gone, not real anyway as she approaches him.

"She's gone. The closest people around are two halls over." she assures him even as her arms come slowly, possessively, lovingly around his neck and her lips brush his chin and then his lips as she sighs into him before pulling back again. She'd needed that. So badly and Merlin's dark blue eyes meet Arthur's earth brown with a smile that is strained with weariness, but genuine nonetheless.

"Oh, I have missed you." she breathes and kisses him again, longer this time, but has too pull back too soon, much sooner than she'd like as her power flares and Merlin pulls back and stills, eyes glowing a faint gold as she listens, watches something Arthur can not.

The Healer's expression darkens even as she continues to stare off into space, knowing where she is, but not yet making eye-contact with Arthur again. "It's Mordred. He's quickened his pace again." Now her eyes flicker, the gold fading once more to mere sparks at the corners of her gaze and she looks back to the blond-haired monarch, reaching up to brush said hair back gently even as she sighs.

"I have been preparing things as I can, but you're going to have to announce his arrival in a day or two, Arthur. It's unavoidable." she warns him gently and then tilts her head, sensing that his mind, while on her words, is elsewhere as well. "Do you feel Ceridron took the bait?"
 
"How pigheaded do you think I am, Merlin?" Arthur growls, the true bear seen in his powerful voice, "I think, as King of Camelot, I would remember who I give my ring to. No, but you think that you're so--" When she holds up a hand, his smile brightens up his entire face. With quick, sweeping movements, he finds his way into her arms easily. "Good," he breathes, his excitement making the words light and almost winded, his mind only thinking of kissing his prize. Everything ceases for the moment. All the terror that is currently eating away at his Kingdom and the bile that is yet to come. Right now, all Arthur thinks about, all he wants to do, is savor these lips for there are no other like them.

Pulling her form right up against his in one quick motion, Arthur locks her there until she breaks the bond between them. He doesn't realize that Merlin has pulled away once he has started to make his own army of kisses on her neck. Its when she pushes his shoulders back that he becomes aware that she wants more than just his kisses tonight. Information and deals need to be exchanged. "What?" Arthur immediately breathes, his lips tingling from their mingled contact with Merlin's. "Merlin, my dear Merlin, what is wrong?" The King immediately blames himself. Had he been too forceful with his kisses? Had he hurt her with his might? Arthur's hands slide to Merlin's waist, staying there right above her hips. The King opens his mouth to practically beg again, shutting it as soon as Merlin speaks.

"That King, if you can call him as such, will come here at any rate he desires. I have you and I will always have you to help me stop him from destroying all that I have built." What Arthur could do is just kiss her again and forget about the murderous dog that is running at his kingdom as they stand here.

"I have spoken to Ceridron, yes, and it turns out that he is trying his upmost best not to seem too overly interested in this suitor I have arranged to come to Camelot a month after Mordred leaves. I figure that will be enough time to put out whatever flames he causes during his stay. I figure that he is just arriving at Morgana's chambers now. I would like to give them a bit of time to settle in before I bring some urgent news to my sister about … whatever I will make up. I do," he leans down to kiss her lips and leave them locked for a necessary time, "after all have a tendency to knock open doors that are closed."
 
Merlin giggles at his words and then blushes, feeling rather embarrassed about the sound, but she couldn't help it, her lips meeting his again as she once more wraps her arms about his neck loosely, rising on her toes to press her mouth firmly to his own, smiling against his lips as her eyes, having been closed, open slowly once more, meet his brown, eyes she has loved for so long now. Even from the beginning she'd been transfixed by his eyes, piercing her, hypnotizing in their own way. And now the blue of her own met the brown of his, like the sky touching the earth.

"You are good at that, yes." she whispers to Arthur, thoroughly amused by this truth as her fingers trail down his shoulder, loving that for once, he's not wearing the chainmail that so gets in her way as her hands slip under his arms, her nails drag lightly down his back through his tunic until she reaches his waist and there she stays, close to him, adoring him, secure and safe, and knowing it.

"It's a habit I have yet to break you of." she teases and the healer feels the tension drain from her, knowing that they still have much to do, but in this one moment, for a little while....it is just them. Oh, she can see Ceridron is indeed making his way to Morgana's chambers as the night darkens around the castle, but they have time yet to catch him in the act.

So Merlin focuses on Arthur and she tilts her head, dark hair falling over her shoulder as she gives her King a questioning look. "Why is that? What do you have against knocking?" she continues to tease, not at all upset with him for it.
 
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Arthur's eyes don't move from Merlin's. They close when their lips are meeting, seeing the long awaited bursts of fire that light up the blackness there. Merlin is the only woman who can do that to him, make him see images in his head when their lips are meeting. Normally, Arthur is trying to think of how to kiss, what to do, how she is responding. But with Merlin, he simply is. That's what he loves the most about her. Arthur isn't anything added when Merlin's blue eyes are intwined with his. She knows him, his falsehoods that others cannot grasp, and how he acts. Especially how he acts when he tries to cover up his emotions. But now, he is not.

"Merlin, my dear Merlin," Arthur starts to speak before she drags her hands down his back. The King, feeling a sudden jolt of surprise, tenses then relaxes in her arms when he familiarizes himself with her again. "Come now," he whispers, rounding her head with his own so that he may press his cheek onto hers, voice remaining in a low whisper, "you don't want to change me entirely. Then what would I be? You should love me and all my quirks, just as I love you and your temper that could bring down this entire city." His shoulders, broad and powerful, slump so that he may curve his back for her. This way, she doesn't have to lean as far upwards, their eyes practically level and bodies close. His hands support her frame, making sure that she is comfortable.

When he pulls away from her, she questions him about his knocking and the King just rolls his eyes. "Do you really expect me to knock? You shouldn't forget that you are talking to a King. Doors are shut for a reason, people expect a knock announcing someone's arrival. Why would I, King of Camelot, wait around for a door to be opened?" Arthur speaks, his arm breaking off of her waist so that he may run his fingers through her hair. "You're so beautiful…" he remarks, eyes dancing between her eyes with a hot joy that only she will know, "and the best part about it is that you are all mine." With her head tilted, Arthur leans forward and plants another kiss to her lips, his nose kissing hers as well with each positional change of their lips, wanting her to feel his words as much as he is speaking them.
 
Merlin snorts softly at his words. Silly man, she did not truly wish to change him, only to tease him, but the healer doesn't say that because she suspects that daft as he can be at times, he does actually know that. She gives him the benefit of the doubt this time, but she does break away from his tantalizing lips for just a moment to raise a brow at him, a smirk dancing on her mouth. "One of these days, Oh Mighty King of Camelot, you're going to come barging through that door and I'm not even going to be dressed." she pointed out with a slightly husky laugh, not letting him reply as her lips meet his own again.

She doesn't want a reply, merely for him to picture that and Merlin smiles against Arthur's mouth with mischievously dancing eyes and she once again brings her arms around his neck, content to simply let her body melt into his own until the time comes when they must part and deal with Ceridron.

--

The dealing of Ceridron had gone as ugly as Merlin had suspected it would, but rather simply, too.

She had let Arthur see to it. As King, it was his duty to and she did not want to undermine that. Had Merlin been Queen, she would have been there, but she was, merely a Healer and this did not require healing of any sort. What it did have was Knights with Arthur, though, handpicked by Merlin for him as she knew which were loyal and which had been influenced by Ceridron. She knew which were merely uncertain and which had fully gone over to his cause and they, too, she gave up to Arthur with a simple handwritten list.

It was time to clean out this nest of vipers and while she stayed close while Arthur barged in on Morgana and Ceridron, she did not make her presence known in any physical way. But she heard all that went on and unbeknownst to even Arthur, he was shielded. It would take only one punch thrown, one dagger attempt to the ribs, any kind of threat at all for the gold haze - as yet unseen - around his body to flare into a solid force that would deflect anything.

And then the force would debate whether it attacked or not, depending on how livid Merlin herself was.

In the end, though, Ceridron was sentenced to death for betrayal of his King, for treachery, and the Knights with him were banished, dishonored. And Morgana....Merlin knew she would never feel affection for her elder brother again. It was a slope Merlin had long seen coming, but she agreed with Arthur's choice. Ceridron could not live.

It was only grievous that the King would lose both a friend and a sister the day Ceridron's head rolled.
 
Uther always told his son that men who break trust, vows, and betray their friends, family, kingdom, should be dealt with accordingly. While not as cruel as Uther had been, the number of heads rolling from the chopping block lessened since Arthur has taken the throne, there are decisions that a King has to make. Difficult ones. It was no so much a matter of whether Ceridron had been guilty or not, that part was obvious and the threads were soon pulled out of Camelot's fabric. But it was a matter of how it should be dealt with. His crimes have surpassed links that Arthur never knew existed. And soon, with the help of no one but himself, Arthur came to a decision and the day of Ceridron's death planned.

For the next few days, Morgana did not leave her room. No one went in, other than one maid who brought her meals and tended to her from the bedside. She pined. Suffered. Mourned. And brooded. An explosive mixture that caused her to feel a bubbling hate for her elder brother, something that she knew would not be flicked away with time. It wasn't until a week had passed that she finally allowed herself to rise from her bed and another week to move from her bedroom. But as Mordred moved closer to Camelot, Arthur's focus was more on the upcoming evil and threat to his reign than the misery of his own sister. Perhaps that hurt Morgana most of all.

So the city prepared itself, pinning banners of bright southern colors that danced below a blue sky everywhere they could reach. Arthur, taking Merlin's advice, set up a meeting after the corrupted knights had been caught, jailed, banished, or killed too. It depended how close they were to the mastermind of upcoming misery. Now the King, bright red cape dawned, face against the rising sun, speaks to his people from the castle wall, a small balcony built for announcements such as this. He tells them of the hospitality that will soon befall them. The "friends" from the North making their way to Camelot's doorstep. He urges his people to be kind and show them Camelot's true colors, but he knows that each and every man, woman, and child, will be keeping to their toes and treading lightly.

With all these preparations being made, Arthur hardly visited Merlin. He got up early and worked till his eyes couldn't keep themselves open any longer. He had to have plans. Backup plans. Backup-backup plans for those plans. The King must know, or at least perceive, every curve that Mordred would try to throw at him, every word that is skewed just a tinge so that it didn't seem too unpleasant but it meant to be as such. "Can't I just kill the bastard and be done with it?" he questions to himself as he walks along the crest of a hill, seeing Camelot in all its glory shine against the morning sun. "It would be easier that way…" He sighs, knowing his words, no matter how true he wants them to be, will only cause trouble. Chaos. Consequences.
 
Merlin grimaces as she looks to the blood in her hand, still able to taste the bitterness of it in the back of her throat. Her lung threaten to cough again, but she suppresses it, breathing in deeply as she clears her throat, bringing the back of her hand to her nose to check for blood there, too, and she sighs to find it, quickly moving to the washbin to clean up her hands and then staunch the bleeding from her nose.

She's pushing herself too hard and Merlin knows it, but she can hardly do anything else right now. As Mordred gets closer, his actions become less predictable and she must be prepared to tell Arthur anything he does that might bring harm to Camelot. But as the Dark King draws nearer his presence becomes overbearing, threatening to overwhelm Merlin's own. For he is Celfyddydau Tywyll and he knows who he is. He embraces that power, lets it flow through him freely, uncaring if he burns up his body for he can always take another, uncaring if he kills the spirit of the human within. But Merlin can not do that, be that. She might be Ynni Anfarwol, but she doesn't recall such a thing and she can not tap into that power again, not unless she wants the risk of burning through her mortal frame.

But she can't let Mordred had free reign either. She must protect Arthur, so Merlin knows she might find herself in a position where she must choose whether she will protect her King at the risk of her own life or let Mordred have his way.

There really is no decision there, no question what she shall choose.

Still, it will not be good if she burns herself out too soon and Merlin finally stops the bleeding, sighing herself as she looks out the window and finally moves for the door. She's scouted enough today. She must tell Arthur that Mordred will arrive on the morrow. But first she must find her King. The thought brings a smile to her lips for she knows exactly where he is and once she reaches the courtyard, her mare greets her and together they leave the inner walls of Camelot and then the outer walls, flying across the bridge and toward the rolling hills and plains, where she will find her King.

He can hardly hide from her.
 
Arthur did not ride a horse out to the far reaches and the hills beyond. Instead, he wished to feel the weight of his own legs carry him as far as he could. The king's feet tingle as he takes another step, heels burning inside his boots. "Perhaps…" he whispers, trying to think of another plan that will fall through. He is worried, his shoulders tense and hands wringing together before his hips. At least some of his brain is thinking straight. His mind hears the rattle of a cart behind him, the horses hooves stomping on the ground one after another in a rhythmic display. Its a quiet road he is on, tall grasses on each side.

The cart clatters by, its nails hardly holding it together. The driver nods his head at the king, unknowing who he is tipping his hat to. Arthur didn't get a chance to see the man's eyes, or face for that matter. His hat, woven by his wife, covering that part of his face in darkness. Even in the early morning, the farmer isn't taking chances with the sun. "Good day." Arthur hears him mumble, keeping on his way and not turning back to look at the green tunic that Arthur had dawned today. A gray cloak covers his body, hood drawn up over his own eyes. It's patchy and worn, everything his father disapproved of. But now Arthur, as he aways had done, feels a life breathed into him. No jewels, guards, or prestige.

He was hardly sneaking out of the castle, his hood down and a smile to every guard he passed. A dagger lies safely at his side incase the worst should happen but the king isn't too worried. With his back gently hunched, dwarfing his broad shoulders, Arthur walks in slow strides. The countryside is beautiful, he must admit but it saddens the king to know that such a twisted force will soon weave his webs here. Arthur will do his best for the country, kingdom, and people he loves so very much. But Mordred is a crafty slithering beast who strikes while the meat is still warm. Another set of hooves approaches from his behind but the king simply staggers his line to the side and keeps moving.
 
Zamasi slows her pace without needing to be told and Merlin pats the mare appreciatively as she views the figure walking ahead of them, knowing instantly who it is. Even if her power hadn't been guiding her, she would have known. She knows his gait, the purposeful strides of his legs and the broad shoulders and set of his head. Merlin could pick Arthur out in a crowd if every single person was wearing the exact same cloak and all had their backs turned toward her.

She knows her lover.

Now the healer smiles to herself and when they come up alongside him, she can't keep the the glitter out of her dark blue eyes. She'd meant to simply catch him and inform him of the news that whirls in her mind, but now, seeing him and knowing how little they have seen of each other in the recent days, she can't help but take a moment to be selfish. She just wants a moment with him, no plans or talk of Mordred. Just they two, like it used to be before everything grew so complicated.

It is amazing to her that their love has survived every trial they've gone to. Hell, she's surprised they've survived period!

"Excuse me, good sir, but have you seen a King pass this way? I can't seem to find him anywhere and I do have something very important to give him." She sighed as if in tired exasperation.

"I have tried to catch him in the days before now, but he's always so busy. I just need a moment with him, nothing more. So I beseech you, sir, have you seen him?" Her eyes meet Arthur's squarely, her eyes laughing with a smile, but her lips are still and her face is set. She simply can not hide the love and emotion in her eyes, though.

Merlin has never been able to do that.
 
Arthur glances up as the beautiful horse and the leg of the rider but no higher until she speaks. He opens his mouth to correct her for he wasn't just a "good sir" as she puts it but a King. The King! Yet, that wouldn't be a very good disguise if he started off with such an awkward saying. A commoner being king, pah! But he keeps his wits about him, closing his mind and mouth from any infinitely obvious answer that King Arthur would snap back. This man, a simple commoner with a few silver to his name, nods, eyes revealing themselves from his hood for a quick moment and no longer.

"A King passing this way?" He repeats, his voice struggling to hide his deep tone with lighter sounding words. "I not seen flag bearers of any crest riding out over the fields while a procession of glinting, men follow behind one with that golden crown on his head. No. There be no Kings upon this road I can assure you m'lady. They easily spotted with their rich clothing, jewels draped around their neck with not specks of dirt on their bodies. They smell, I have heard, not of piss and other waste like any hard working man but rather like a lady. Perfumes and puffs of vibrant, gripping, scents surrounding them. Its disgusting."

"No," he continues, ranting on like any man would who has half the brainpower as the King, "I be wondering. But, for a price, pretty girl, I might be able to remember more about this King you be lookin' for." He moves closer to the horse, hands resting on her neck while he looks up to Merlin's eyes. He adores them with reserve, the hood slipping back over his forehead but not dropping down to his shoulders yet. "Do you understand me? A King must be very important to have you look after him." His hand moves gently from the horse to Merlin's leg, only his fingertips touching her knee for he fears anything else might be too obvious of affection in the outside world. "Such a beautiful woman must be looking for more than a king if she is out here in these parts. How about you come down from that horse and we will see if I can remember your kind."
 
Coming from anyone else, Merlin would have been wary at how close Arthur got, how he looked at her and touched her, spoke to her, but this was her King, her love and she merely found him amusing. Any other man behaving in such a way and she would have been fearful of being raped, hurt especially as she was alone on this road with him, but Merlin knew they only played and she trusted Arthur more than she trusted anyone in the world.

Sure, he was being a bit creepy, but it merely made her dark blue eyes laugh at him further.

Still, it did not stop her from signalling Zamasi to rear and the mare did so faithfully, kicking out at the air before her for good measure as if she struck an enemy. When she came down, Merlin feigned being indignant as she glared down at Arthur who'd been forced to lurch back lest he be knocked over by the mare.

"How dare you! I am in service to his Majesty, King Arthur of Britain! You would do well to watch your tongue and your hands, sir! I am not going to offer you myself or anything else for information. The indecency that you would even ask!"

She takes a moment more to glare at him, Zamasi shifting beneath her and then speaks again. "Do you have information concerning the whereabouts of the King or not? Such a thing would not slip a man's mind, even one who seems to be hard of remembering."
 
"And what is a King to me, lady?" Arthur mocks, clearly enjoying this little spat that they are having after he jumps back to clear himself away from the mare and her kicking legs. "I work in the fields all day, only paying taxes in return for what? If bandits come and burn down my fields, all the King does is give his apologies and a few flecks of gold. How will that get me through the season? You may live underneath his Majesty's protection but the promise he gives the rest of his country, the rest of his kingdom, cannot be met." Arthur wished to hear Merlin respond to such words with her usual clever tongue, the sentences she crafts miles better than he ever could attempt to produce. He was trained by great men to speak well but Merlin is a natural and he admires such quality.

He tisks, clicking his tongue in sets of three before talking more. "You better move along lass and find your King. Who hears of a King getting lost?" he lets out a hearty chuckle. "Knowing a Pendragon, he is most likely chasing around women that don't belong to him just like his father. Drugging their husbands or sending them to the front lines with thoughts of their death in the forefront of his mind. But… since I am so indecent," he bows quite oddly next, showing a peasants hunch rather than a royal bow, "you better find him before more little Pendragon's are populating this land. Lord knows we don't need more of his kind."

Arthur then talks over anything more she wishes to say, "Now if you'll excuse me, I must take the forest path home to my family before you decide to chop off my fingers for no reason. I am a man and I have a right to talk." Turning in the opposite direction, Arthur starts to climb his way through some shrubs outlining the sides of the road. "Good day, pretty one. May you find the Pendragon you seek soon enough. You might want to check the taverns first. That's where I would go if I were a King and of regal birthing." A gentle whistle follows as he pushes through the greenery, purposely making as much noise as he can so that she may find him a little ways down the path and off into the forest.
 
Merlin has said absolutely nothing to his rantings, letting him continue as if he's stumped her or like she thinks his questions and accusations beneath her notice, but the truth of the matter is far from that and only when he starts to leave the path and blunder his way through the woods in a way she knows Arthur is doing purposely - he's as silent as a wolf if he wants to be! - does she smile and then dismount, giving Zamasi a pat that sends the mare running off, knowing she's not needed and the wise animal also knowing exactly who the King is and that her mistress is in no real danger.

The healer follows Arthur into the brush and for a time she merely observes him, rather appreciatively too, she won't deny, but after a time, she simply starts to speak, knowing he can hear her even if he will pretend otherwise. And she speaks because she knows that while Arthur has been playing with her as she has him....there is a part of him, a doubting, vulnerable, even tender part of the man that genuinely questions whether he's doing right by his people, whether he is a good King.

He needs to hear this just as much as the peasant he's pretending to portray would need to.

"A King, sir, is your lifesource whether you want to see that or not. Your taxes go to supporting the soldiers that keep foreigners from overrunning this land. Your taxes go to the collective monies that leave this Kingdom and bring in seeds and grains, livestock, fruits, vegetables, fabrics and the like that you trade with and for on market day. Your taxes both protect your livelihood and provide for it. Oh, yes, you might lose your farm at some point, but without an army, without a King to lead that army, losing your farm would be guaranteed and losing your freedom or even your life even more so. And you would not see any compensation, nor would you have the means or the chance to start over."

The brunette chuckles, amused and shaking her head at the back of the blond one she follows. "You wish to complain about Kings and Nobles, about taxes and laws, but who protects you from those across the sea so that you might complain? Who will make sure the future is secure so that your sons and daughters and their children after them are all able to complain as you do? Who makes sure that the means to grow your crops, to clothe your children, to feed your family remains your right? Only that King that you look so down upon. So as you go on your way, I know you shall keep grumbling and you shall not like my words, but you be wise to remember why it is you are able to grumble and live to do so for years to come."

Now Merlin picks up speed and she side-steps the loud-walking Arthur, glancing over her shoulder and through her hair at him, a smirk about her lips, amusement in her sparkling dark blue eyes as they catch the sunlight streaming through the trees. "As for the carnal habits of a man? How many women have you slept with? How many will your sons? Your neighbor? Their sons? How many will have husbands already or even will just be betrothed? No man is perfect and no man, be he the lowest slave or the greatest King is above reproach for acts he should not commit. Arthur Pendragon and his father before him were no more guilty of a heinous crime for bedding women than the foolhardy village man."

She turns away and keeps walking, not looking back him again, able to hear him perfectly well. She doesn't know where they go, but hardly cares. She's alone with Arthur and that is more than enough after so many days of not getting to see him, talk to him. "And who are you to say husbands were drugged or that the women were unwilling? Did you work in the palace? Perhaps you were with Uther Pendragon when he did such things? No? Then your words are nothing but speculation. Not of proof."

Now she does look back and dark blue eyes flash the most hypnotizing gold for just a moment and Merlin's power touches Arthur for just a second, warmth sweeping through him. "And besides, I am Merlin Lhikäkai, Healer of Camelot. I am sworn to the Pendragons and if there were more than one out in the world, I would know it. I assure you, sir, there is only one, the current King of Camelot and until he has an heir of his own, there will ever only be one."
 
"Speculation is when one or two few dozen believe in a story that has been passed down by word of mouth. But facts are told by advisors and apothecaries who had assisted the King in his revelries. What else explains a woman from another kingdom, happily married as the word goes, loses her husband and immediately finds herself in Uther's bed? The maids who found her there and Uther's dabbling with the apothecary whom he never conversed with before then suddenly required a potion from." He pauses, thinking of another root for his tree of defense, "If it truly was love, by all the witnesses it seems that it was, then why would she have given up so easily? Love is not something that can be thrown away once it has been ripped. It needs to mend because hearts, as strong as we might think they are, need time to heal."

There is no one around to hear their bickering. It has been ages since they could do this, Arthur trying desperately to hide the wide smile that keeps itself stuck to his lips. Half of their relationship, he reflects as they walk through the tall trees and push aside the weak branched shrubs, is them fighting. It keeps their passion strong, knowing that they can argue until they are both at risk for popping a blood vessel but truly they will stay together until their dying breath. Love is also a powerful thing, able to change even the most steadfast of minds in a fowl swoop. Merlin has done that to the King and he is not afraid to admit it. She has helped teach him more than just what a King should be but how to apply himself into his role as King of Camelot. Its not him trying to be a King anymore but the King's of old trying to keep up with him.

His father has been dead for what seems like centuries now, the great halls of Camelot never forgetting his reign but the memories are turning hazy. Even Arthur is forgetting the sound of his voice, the look on his face, in his warm eyes, whenever Arthur proved himself to him. The crunch of his footsteps slows to a stop, his head bowing down for a second. Shame coils its way around his stomach for he has spoken ill of the dead. Spoken ill of his own father who had been murdered by poison for all Arthur knows. Now his mother is without a husband again and its only him and his sister to take care of her. His stomach feels like boiling acid, his eyes not taking themselves off of the decomposing leaves underneath his boots. All it took was one word, one thought and now Arthur is stuck again in his own head.

Mordred, the man who killed the man who he is using as bait for this conversation, is coming. Arthur closes his eyes, trying to remember any advice his father might have given him that could be used against this northern shade of a man. But when he shuts his eyes, all he can imagine, all he can feel, is Merlin. Her warmth and comfort. He can't disappoint her now so they open with purpose. "Then you are too close to the Pendragon's to see their true weaknesses and flaws. You're too attached, too," he steps forward and tries to grab her by the wrist and pull her towards him, "in love with a Pendragon." The forest covers them just like Arthur wishes to cover his own momentary lapse of sadness. He leans in and kisses her in a light succession up to her ear, her skin sweet on his lips and warm to the touch. "I hear he would marry each and every one of your freckles if he had enough money for all the weddings. Poor King has fallen helplessly."
 
His words actually made Merlin blinked in surprise, her back turned to Arthur as it was, and she didn't offer a rebuttal to that. How could she? This had crossed from a game into something else entirely and she wasn't sure how to address it. If this had happened as Arthur was TRULY insinuating it had, then it had happened before her time in Camelot or her perhaps she had simply not known. Either way, she did not know what he wanted her to say to it and when she heard him stopping behind her, Merlin turned and regarded the King with a truly thoughtful expression that he did not witness, wrapped up in his own thoughts as he was.

Oh, but she knew the look of guilt when she saw it and Merlin sighed softly to herself even as he started to move.

When the golden-haired King reaches for her, she does not shy away, though, she makes him put some effort into pulling her to him, the barest hint of a smile on her lips, but more worry in her heart than he can yet know. She can sense the sadness, the guilt, the bitterness and anger within him perhaps even better than he himself can feel it.

It concerns her.

Still, his kisses warm her, sending delightful tinglings down her spine and Merlin gives the King a smirk as she pulls her face back from his questing lips, a brow rising. "Well, then surely the King has lost his wits for surely I would marry him in a peasant's wedding if he asked it of me. I have no need for extravagant weddings and pompous ceremonies. What is a dress to me or a feast? What care I for a grand celebration or the presence of Nobles throughout the land? No, my desire is for my King and nothing less. With him and him alone I would be satisfied, to call him mine and say I am his."

Giving up any pretenses or disguise, Merlin's hand rises and she tenderly brushes Arthur's gold hair back from his face with a few fingers, bringing them to trail down his cheek in a familiar way before her arm loops about his neck and she rises on her tiptoes to bring their foreheads together, voice soft.

"Your thoughts are heavy, Arthur." Her dark blue eyes meet his earthly brown. "Will you not confide in me what weighs to heavily upon your shoulders that a true smile from you is so rare?"
 
"Then you have lost your mind too? Well, how grand it is to see two persons find each other in this world. Both so stubborn and thick-headed,. How will they ever make it work?" He keeps his hold as firm as he can on her without snapping her spine, giving her just enough room to wiggle but not become free of his confinements. But she pulls away from him, his lips unable to taste her. If they were new to this sort of greeting, one silent of words but not action, Arthur would raise a brow and question what he had done to stop it. But luckily for him and Merlin, such occurrences happen to sever their kisses more often than not.

"And would you really, my dear? Marry me, that is, with only the gods present? Somewhere quiet and secluded from all eyes except our own?" The thoughts are enjoyable to the King, seeing her on the day that will make hers his and vice versa. In the back of his head, he knows that it would be impossible to have a peasant wedding, as she put it, when she is marrying a King. All the lords and ladies of the allying kingdoms would have to attend, a feast laid out in front of every man, woman, and child, so that they may celebrate their hopes and wishes for good fortune upon the many suns to rise. "How I wish it to be so…" he whispers to her, the trees serving as witness.

Arthur enjoys her close proximity and even more so when she loops her arms around his neck. The trees sway as even the ground beneath them coax the two lovers together again. "What else can you expect from a King?" Arthur questions, admitting to his lack of proper smile and attendance at Merlin's side as of late. "It had been harder than I thought, losing good men to the jaws of corruption. When will they learn that the path they should follow is right in front of them? It's me and I can make Camelot great but they're not letting me." She presses her forehead to his and he responds by turning his own head gently from left to right while pushing back against hers. "It reminds me too much of the very things my father feared."

"And I don't want to be like him, with all respects, because he was frightened by the thoughts of revolts and losing his house name. I wonder what I can do or what I shouldn't do often, Merlin. Did I make the right decisions along my reign as King or am I just digging myself my own grave? Have a sealed my fate in some way I do not consciously know of? My father died before he could accomplish half of what he dreamed of. Am I to be poisoned too? Die like him?" Arthur sighs, turning his face so that he may kiss Merlin's cheek before resting his own against hers. "I would be lost without you, Merlin. Even you're presence here, right now, assures me that I am riding down the right path."
 
She does not answer his question of whether she'd marry him in such a way for Merlin knows that Arthur already knows her answer. Silly man that he is, he must ask, but she does not have to answer and it is only when he speaks in relation to her own question that she lets her own tongue move again in voice to her thoughts, though, she lets him speak his whole mind first, smiling a bit when he gives her such credit for keeping him on the straight and true.

How she wishes it were that easy, but she does not rebuttal his compliment for Arthur would not wish her to and Merlin has no wish to upset him. She gets so little time with him anymore and with all the stress of everything to come, she simply wishes to ease his mind, to lighten his burden. She knows she can not, not truly so this time, but at the very least she can make sure that quarreling with her is not another weight on his mind.

"I expected much from my King, a smile most of all, but I do understand the weights on your mind, Arthur." She raises a finger and Merlin places it to his lips as she knows he will have some argument for her words. She speaks gently, showing that in her heart, she does not wish to anger him, merely wishing that he listen.

"I am not a King, that I know, but I do understand your responsibility. I have duties of my own that weigh heavily on me as well and their consequences if I take a wrong turn are just as severe as those made by if you go astray." Her palm touches his cheek and Merlin smiles softly, her dark blue eyes holding his brown. "I understand, my love. You don't have to hide such things from me."

Merlin rises on her toes then and she kisses Arthur's lips, soft and long, savoring the taste of him before she pulls back and hums in the back of her throat. "You made the right choice, Arthur. You know very well I would have fought you if I thought you were making a wrong one." she points out to him with a bit of a chuckle and then sighs, brushing his hair back from his face once more with her fingers. "I will not let you go to the grave early, Arthur. That I swear to you. I know you look at me and you merely see a woman, a woman that you love, but just that. I am not, though. Much as I might not like it, I am far from just a woman and I will use that to keep you safe, to see you become the King you are meant to be."

The healer smiles a bit and she kisses his chin, nipping at his skin lightly, a mixture of playfulness and seriousness in her voice as only Merlin knows how to do. "I surely won't let you become anything less than that. The shame it would bring to my reputation as a Guardian!"
 
"I wish that I could hide some things from you, Merlin," Arthur admits slowly when her hand presses against his cheek. "There are days where I do not want to see you carry the burdens upon your mind. You do enough already in the medical wing. There is a power in you that I cannot understand after all these years, golden light like little flames of fire skimming the outside world from your body." But he is cut short for she leans up and kisses him, mouths catching each other in an equal, practiced fashion. When they part, he exhales what he had been holding in. Unlike the times before, he doesn't jump right back onto the train of his thoughts before. He lets them settle into dust at their feet, new words forming in his head.

There is power in these arms that Arthur does understand. It's the heartbeat against his chest, the smile curving a freckled face upwards. Bright eyes and kind words is what the King adores from Merlin. No matter how big their fights are, a true testament of love is to forgive and never forget but to learn from mistakes made. He lets his head roll back when she runs her fingers through it. He is but putty waiting to be molded by her hands. "I would hope that I see more than just a woman. You are the reason the sun rises from its slumber in the morning, why the birds sing in the evening, why the tides keep rolling in. I don't just look at you and see a woman, nor a woman I love, but a goddess."

He knows how his words must sound, sweet yet overplayed, so the King grins. "And this goddess, or guardian as you say," he whispers when she kisses his chin, "has a most unique power. You are very persuasive when…" He shuts his eyes when she starts to nip at his skin, a soft groaning breath released instead of words. He knows that Merlin will do all in her power to protect him but he feels a warmth spread across his chest when she assures him again of that fact. Who would have thought that after all these years, the healer woman he had mistaken for a man and angrily confronted that fact the next morning, could grow so close to him.

After finding her lips again and kissing them ruthlessly, the King pulls back, his breath spilling from his mouth. "So my dear," he practically pants, chest rising and falling in rhythm, "why have you come all this way in search of King Arthur?" Slowly smiling, Arthur continues to rub his hands over her back and hips in a different pattern each round. "I am sure that you have more on your mind than making my lips crack from constant care. In his gut, he knows that she will have to bring up the incoming King who is scheduled to visit any day now but his heart hopes that she just came to steal his kisses and affections.
 
If she has any power over Arthur, Merlin feels that he has thrice as much over her as his kiss leaves her mind spinning and her breath short. She curls her fingers in his tunic, needing the stability as the world is fuzzy around her and she loves the fact dearly. Only Arthur can make her feel such things. Only he has ever been allowed to and the healer smiles in an admittedly goofy way as her dark blue eyes open and she regards her King, raising a brow.

"Hmm? I'm sorry, my capacity for thought seems to have deserted me." she teases softly before giving a soft groan of appreciation for Arthur's wandering hands, his fingers seeming magically able to find both the spots on her body that ache and more unique ones that make warmth flush through her body in a way she likes for entirely different reasons.

Merlin shakes her head, smiling innocently up into the brown eyes that regard her with too much intelligence to be fooled by her silly ruse. "No, I do not believe there is anything on my mind but you, love." It's a tease as she rises to kiss his lips again, seeking the taste of him, the feel of his touch, the intoxicating scent and presence that is specially Arthur. He is a wine she can not get enough of, has gone too long without and while it is usually Arthur himself who is more demanding in the physical aspect, Merlin has her moments and this is one of them as she refuses to speak until she has kissed him long and hard again, only pulling back when her lungs demanded an adequate supply of air.

It is equal parts true and passionate desire and love that drives her, but there is a hint of desperation, of fear behind her actions that makes her hand shake as her fingers curl in the gold hair at the back of his head. Merlin gives the King a long look, indecipherable, for a moment before she finally rests her forehead to his again, sighing.

Accepting that it is time to speak.

"I found Mordred's presence again. He will be upon Camelot tomorrow. Evening at the latest, but knowing him, earlier than that."
 
Arthur can't help but let out a soft groan of disappointment when Merlin's lips slip from his own. He can't complain about her breath fanning over his face, nor the heartbeat he feels from her chest. "You're… a lying… cheat," Arthur breathes heavily, his mind spinning with the collection of all his emotions. He adores Merlin, her smile, eyes, hair, scars, touch. The list goes on. He is biased, of course, his hunger for women never so strong unless he is with Merlin. The King knows when to be kind and polite to the women of court but only with Merlin can he drop down every guard he has in anticipation for revealing all of his passions. Her fingers grip onto the mass of gold that sits upon his head. "I love it when you…" but his words are cut off when Merlin sighs, something or someone weighing greatly on her conscious.

"Tell me what is wrong, my dove, so that I may right it with small trinkets," he kisses whatever part of her face he can, his lips landing just below hers, "of my affection." But all the playfulness in his tone drops when he hears that one name. A bitter taste forms in the back of his throat, anger bubbling from nowhere in particular to the surface of his skin. He did ask what was on her mind and this is the reality of it. Mordred shall be in his kingdom, dining in his castle, tomorrow. Cheap smiles will be thrown to him and his men, half hearted compliments thrown from one side of his throne room to the other. He doesn't expect Mordred to act in such a way, his voice and eyes as scheming as ever. It's his turn to sigh, knowing that kisses, no matter how much breath they take away, cannot make this news any better.

The last time he saw that filth, his own father was agreeing to a marriage between him and Merlin. So jealousy, he is certain, will come into play while the disgusting troll of a man is here. His arms wrap around Merlin's waist, face sliding from hers so that he may rest it upon her shoulder. "My love," he whispers, "I will not let him hurt you or take you away from this place. You will not leave Camelot unless you are with me and return thusly. I won't have him take you away from me or my Kingdom. All that I have done, I have completed in your name, Merlin, with you always at the forefront of my thoughts. I can't live without you." She doesn't plan to leave, he is certain, but Arthur cannot foresee what tricks Mordred might have for Camelot.

"How do i make sure everyone and everything is safe?"
 
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