AN: I am fully aware that this is comprised of about 90% run-on sentences, and I'm very sorry, but hey! Be happy I finally updated! Yay!

Merlin poured some of the clear solution in the vile onto the end of the rag before recapping the bottle and setting it down on the table. He brought the rag up to the dark gash that ran across the side of Arthur's forehead and applied it gingerly to the wound. He winced.

"Sorry," Merlin whispered. He lifted a hand to stroke Arthur's hair back off his face as he dabbed lightly at the cut again.

"Ouch, Merlin," Arthur complained, shrugging out of the other boy's reach. Merlin sighed, moving to sit on the table in front of Arthur. He reached out and put a hand on Arthur's cheek to turn his face to the side. Oh Lord, Arthur couldn't handle this. Merlin was sitting right in front of him, nursing his wounds, his slender hands on his face and in his hair. Arthur knew his cheeks were bright red but he highly hoped Merlin couldn't tell in the dim light of the candles on Gaius's tabletop.

"Arthur, you need to stop squirming if you want me to try and stitch this properly." Arthur clenched his jaw but remained still, his eyes focused on the line of Merlin's red scarf and where it ran along the dips and curves of his neck. Arthur's mind flashed back to his dream the pervious night, how his lips had run over the tender flesh of Merlin's neck, nipping and biting and eliciting moans from Merlin that weakened his knees and echoed in his head. "Honestly, you were doing so well, I don't know how you managed to get hit so badly." Arthur knew. He knew perfectly well why he had suddenly lost all ability to defend himself and had gotten so distracted that Sir Leon had been able to hit him. And it wasn't Arthur's fault.

"He just caught me off guard," Arthur mumbled despondently.

Of course, Arthur, having had a rather frustrating morning, had decided that he shouldn't be the only one miserable, and had called for an extended sword skills practice for all the knights. Mandatory. They hadn't dared complain, knowing that an 'extended practice' was Arthur's way of taking out his anger, and none of them wanted to be at the receiving end of one of his outbursts. He did, however, notice some pointed glares aimed his way. Good, he thought, let them be angry.

The afternoon, although rather gloomy, had started off nicely. Gwaine managed to strike Percival a few times despite his nasty hangover, and Arthur had shown Elyan and Brennis how to attack an enemy who was coming at them from over their right shoulder, which they both managed to learn fairly quickly. In fact, Arthur was relatively proud of his performance; he seemed to be quite the teacher.

Every now and again he would glance over to the side of the field to see Merlin watching him, an enthusiastically large grin on his face as he cheered him on. It was kind of endearing, to be honest. Every time Arthur would hear his name shouted or an ecstatic cheer escape Merlin's lips, he would smile and his chest would flutter. He proceeded to push himself harder just so he could beat each of the knights, take off his helmet, and turn to see Merlin's proud grin smiling back at him.

It was actually going quite well. He managed to engage in a fight with all of the knights individually, attacking their weak spots to get the upper hand. Once he had them pinned down, the blade of his sword pointedly threateningly at their throats, he would step back, help them up, and glance over at Merlin, his heart skipping a beat at the other boy's expression. Of course people had been proud of him before, had cheered him on and offered their congratulations when he won, but it had never felt this…intimate. Everything he did, he did to make Merlin proud, and yet he couldn't fathom why.

Unfortunately, everything couldn't just go smoothly, because no, that would be too easy. As it was Arthur's turn against Leon, he spread his feet, swung his sword about a few times, and locked his shoulder in place. Leon was by far the hardest fight to win, as he had been training with Arthur since they were children, and he knew all of Arthur's techniques better than the other knights. Leon swung out at Arthur, who parried and retaliated by striking a blow at Leon's left shoulder, then his right, then his hip. He was caught off guard and stumbled a bit to the right. Above them, the sun crept out from behind the thick layer of clouds it had been hiding all morning. Arthur glanced back to see if Merlin was still watching. That was his mistake.

Merlin was indeed watching Arthur very intently, leaning over a rail, his pale, knobby fingers interlaced in front of him. The sun now shone down around Merlin, almost as if the boy himself were aglow. His hair shone the darkest brown, the light catching each mussed up curl atop his head. He was squinting at Arthur through the brightness, his face contorted in a look of concentration, his eyebrows drawn together and his teeth lightly biting down on his full bottom lip. The way the light bounced off Merlin's cheekbones should've been illegal, Arthur thought, his eyes tracing his manservant's face like his lips wanted to so desperately.

Suddenly Merlin's face changed, his eyes widened, his eyebrows raised, his mouth opened to a little 'o', and his look of surprise and concern was so cute that Arthur just chuckled fondly, not realizing the cause for Merlin's concern until the blade of Sir Leon's sword had come crashing down on the edge of Arthur's helmet, striking his shoulder and elbow before he managed to stagger out of the way, falling to his knees.

"Merlin," Arthur said, his hand shooting up and taking Merlin by the wrist. The ministrations on his aching forehead stopped and he sighed. He honestly couldn't take any more of this. Not the pain, Arthur had endured plenty of physical pain in his lifetime, and he hardly thought a little scratch could kill him. No, he couldn't take any more of this…pining. This unrequited love. This silent longing and lustful thoughts and confusing dreams mucking up his head.

"Merlin…" he repeated. He was going to say something. He would tell Merlin how he felt and then just move on and forget it ever happened. It had to be said. (And besides, if Merlin didn't feel the same way, he could just banish him anyways…)

"Sire?" Merlin asked, acutely aware of the prince's grip on his wrist.

"Right, I just wanted to say-, I mean, I needed to tell you that-, what I mean is-" Merlin repressed a chuckle.

"If I didn't know you I'd think you were getting all flustered, sire," Merlin joked, unaware of the reality that Arthur was indeed quiet flustered and at a loss for words at the very moment. He forced a chuckle but it sounded foreign coming from his lips. His lips, which he noticed were surprisingly dry. And his throat was rather tight. And my, it felt like his stomach had dropped to the floor. Was this what normal people felt like in this situation. He looked down and quickly wiped his palms on his trousers.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked again, peering down at Arthur from underneath his lengthy, full eyelashes. Even in the candlelight Arthur could make out the magical blue of Merlin's eyes, unlike any he had seen before, and it set off sparks in his head. And that was his demise.

Abruptly, impulsively, Arthur's hands flew up to cup Merlin's face and he pulled the other boy closer until the were less than an inch apart, and Arthur could feel Merlin's breath, see the shock in his eyes, hear his heart beating rapidly, feel the softness of his skin and his hair under his fingertips. More slowly, more gently, their lips brushed and their eyes closed, and Arthur felt like nothing existed but him and Merlin, the two of them, together, the prince and his manservant, two sides of the same coin.

Reluctantly, their lips parted and Arthur's hands fell to his lap. His eyes immediately followed, focusing on the interesting pattern of the floorboards, and they were quite interesting, refusing to look Merlin in the face. His lips tingled where Merlin's tender, perfectly soft lips had been just moments before. He focused on trying to regain his breath that seemed to have completely escaped him.

"Arthur…" Merlin whispered, his voice a bit hoarser and tentative than usual. He knew this was a bad idea. Arthur's hands fisted and his mind began spewing out reason's for Merlin's banishment: he is a traitor to King Cenred, father; he is a sorcerer, father; he poisoned our horses, father; he called me fat, father…. But suddenly Merlin's fingertips were tracing the line of his jaw and his thumb was under Arthur's chin, pulling his face up until finally Arthur looked at him.

Merlin smiled. He smiled. Arthur's heart skipped a beat and he all of a sudden he felt weightless, light as air. He felt his own tense expression melt away at the look in Merlin's eyes, a look that guaranteed Arthur his smile was genuine and he wasn't just milking this sudden weakness at Arthur's expense; it was a feeling that automatically relieved all of the frustration and anger and confusion that he had been feeling since he met Merlin.

"I…had no idea," Merlin said, incredulously shaking his head. His grinned widened even further, if that was possible, and Arthur couldn't help but chuckle. The feeling felt so freeing that he laughed and his chest shook and he closed his eyes, his cheek pressed into Merlin's palm, and his hands reached up to hold Merlin's neck once more.

"I had no idea either," Arthur said. They both laughed once again, softly, their faces just inches apart, and the sensation was euphoric. Relief washed over Arthur, blanketed by happiness and bliss and just plain love. Merlin's eyes glistened with the reflection of the candles as he pulled Arthur's lips to his own, and they kissed.

-fin-