Chapter Text
His head spun in a blur of shocked faces. Golden light flickered past his senses as heat pulsed through his abdomen, crawling up to his cheeks. Merlin had tugged him by the arm and began dancing like a jaunty peasant husband. It was far from regal. If Merlin had any hope of playing noble tonight, he had just gone and ruined it. Arthur stopped him just as he dashed under his arm again, grabbing him by the shoulders. His glare seemed to get the point across, and Merlin halted. His eyes bore into Arthur for the few seconds he let them, big and glassy.
"If we're going to dance," he placed one hand on Merlin's waist and used the other to clasp theirs together, stretched outward as was traditional. "We are going to do it properly."
That amused smile returned to Merlin, and without hesitation, he pulled Arthur into a slower, almost waltz. It could still use some work, but it would do.
Arthur felt himself flushing as he imagined the faces all around him. He couldn't bear to look. For a moment, he felt regret, but just as it came, it died. Merlin caught his wary eyes and filled them with an impish excitement. One he hadn't felt since he was a young boy. That delicious 'what if' that had kept him going. What if you were king? What if you let a sorcerer live? What if you danced with your idiot manservant?
That 'if' that had weighed him down for so long, finally came to fruition. Honestly, he couldn't even care. Exhaustion had lit trepidation's home aflame, and Merlin had kissed the scorched ruins.
Merlin danced with the energy of a faerie as he twirled under Arthur's shaky hand. When he'd had enough, he'd pressed his back to Arthur's chest and leaned from side to side, snakelike. The smooth fabric of his tunic warmly slid against Arthur's armour. If he intended to be a thorn in Arthur's side, he was succeeding. The hot red pulsing flesh of his cheeks had yet to die down, and this display of...reptilian intimacy didn't help.
As he pulled away, the light caught Merlin's eye just right and in the haze of their proximity, Arthur swore it had a luminescent quality. Even in his human form, that draconic beauty had found a vessel.
Just when he thought the odd dance moves were over, Merlin stretched his arms out in front of him and gracefully coiled them around the air, making waves as if he were picking apples. As improper as it was, no one could look away. Hauntingly magical. Even when he had stopped, Arthur's eyes were glued to his arms, disbelieving. Suddenly, one of them lurched toward him again and pulled him across the ballroom.
He was dragged through the entrance and into a presumably abandoned corridor; however, when they arrived, Gwaine and Percival were standing oddly close like frightened deer. Before either of them could question what they'd been doing, they darted past the king with a hurried "lovely night, isn't it?"
Merlin glanced at Arthur with an equally odd grin. "Guess I wasn't the only one."
Without caring to decipher what that meant, Arthur planted his back on the stone wall and took a deep sigh. Merlin approached carefully until he was only inches from Arthur. The King watched him incredulously. What the hell was he up to now?
"I needed some air; it was getting a bit stuffy in there."
Merlin smiled and placed his palms against Arthur's breastplates. They were cold and smooth under his careful fingertips. "Yeah."
After a moment of hesitation, he slowly placed his head next to Arthur's and craned his neck so he could feel his soft breath. Then, feeling years of pent-up emotion threatening to spill out, he brought his lips to Arthur's cheek. The gentle kiss hardly lasted a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
When he pulled away, he found it hard to lock eyes with Arthur and decided to watch the ground instead. The quiet rumble of Arthur's laughter had his cheeks flushing.
"Hypocrite." After a few more seconds, his laughter died out, replaced by a hesitant sigh. "Merlin..." He pressed two fingers under the manservant's jaw and forced him to face his king. It had been a while since he had seen such fear on his face. Though Merlin tried to hide it under a carefully practiced mask, he was terrified, which only made what Arthur had to say harder to spit out. "You don't want that."
His brow furrowed, "Yes, I do."
Arthur let his eyes flutter closed for a moment before opening them again to see the sweet expression of Merlin. Too sweet, too raw. "You will be the death of me, you know that?"
His smile had returned, and soon Merlin had brought his lips back to Arthur's cheekbones, then jaw, then neck. As he leaned down for a fourth kiss, Arthur pushed him back up with a glare. Merlin matched his expression. "What do you have to lose?"
"My dignity." It was a sour joke, and he knew it. Merlin didn't lighten up in the slightest. He would have explained the many excuses he'd made for himself over the years, but knowing Merlin, he wouldn't fall for any of them. They all boiled down to insecurity and insults, neither of which held any water. "Camelot needs a queen."
He clenched his jaw tightly. "You royals and your stupid traditions. Fine, marry some princess you don't even know. What do I care? You know what you need, Arthur? More than a queen, more than a kingdom?"
He pushed away and took a few steps back toward the ballroom.
"You need love."