Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Merlin, nor do I make any money from this story.

Summary: Merlin and Arthur spend some time together in the King's tent. A/M. Spoilers up for 4x05.

A/N: Hey! So this occurred to me while I was getting ready for work yesterday morning. Unfortunately it didn't turn out quite how I originally thought it would- there was just too much time between the idea and the writing. Damn that need for money to pay the bills!

Anyway, I hope that you enjoy it. Please let me know.

By the way, did anyone else notice that Arthur wasn't wearing his ring when Gwen came to his chambers at the end? Here's my take on why.

The Triumphant King.

Arthur stood on the ridge and watched as the army of Caerleon moved out. Behind him came the sounds of merriment as his men toasted his victory that afternoon. He was glad that he'd been able to resolve the conflict without any bloodshed. He wouldn't have been able to live with himself if innocent men paid for his mistake.

Tonight, they could celebrate Camelot's safety and tomorrow they would march back to the city triumphant. With a sigh of relief he turned and headed back to camp, where Merlin, the Knights and a tankard of mead awaited him.

He stood quietly as Merlin pulled his armour off, patiently allowing the younger man to fret over each bruise and graze. Finally, he was allowed to pull off his shirt and bathe in the bowl of water the servant set out for him.

"I am alright, you know," he murmured to Merlin, who was standing nearby with his towel and nightshirt.

"I know, it's just..."

Merlin hesitated as Arthur turned to face him, taking the towel and drying his face.

The dark haired man had the same look on his face that he'd worn when Arthur stepped out onto the battlefield: anguish.

"What is it?" the fair haired man asked softly, stepping closer to the other.

"I've been concerned for you before, in battle. But today was...it was different," Merlin muttered. "I was so scared you'd be killed."

"I had to do it, Merlin," he answered. "I couldn't allow one of the men to shoulder my responsibility, to fight to right a wrong I committed."

"I know, but if you'd been killed-" Merlin's voice cracked as he turned away.

Arthur caught a glimpse of the other's face and remembered how he'd felt after Merlin's encounter with the Dorocha. The mind-numbing terror and devastation that had swept through him, the shadow of despair that had clung to his every moment like a cloak. He'd journeyed on to the Isle of the Blessed regardless, not knowing whether Merlin would live, but certain that he'd never see the other man again.

He'd forced Merlin to live through that today. Made him watch as Arthur fought for his life, made him watch Arthur almost die. He could imagine just how Merlin had felt.

Their relationship had changed since their reunion in the ruined castle. Intensified. They flirted more often and obviously than ever and Arthur allowed himself more physical contact with the other. He could take a chance and reveal himself a little.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never meant to hurt you."

"It's not your fault," the raven sniffed. "You did what you thought was best. I'll leave you to your rest. Goodnight, Sire."

He dumped the shirt on the table and went to leave the tent, but Arthur pulled him back.

"My Lord?" the servant questioned softly.

He reached up and gently caressed a pale cheek before leaning in for a chaste kiss. Merlin's lips were soft and moulded perfectly to his own.

Pulling back, he watched as the other's eyes fluttered open and he licked his lips, tasting Arthur.

"What was that for?" the servant's voice was shaky.

"An apology."

"What about Gwen?"

"The situation with Guinevere is...complicated," the blond sighed. "But I swear to you, that I love you."

He lowered his voice and turned away slightly.

"I love you both."

"I understand," Merlin's words caused Arthur to turn back sharply. "I know what it's like to love two people at the same time."

"Am I one of them?"

In that moment, Arthur felt more vulnerable than he had ever before. Merlin was the only one who could make him feel like that, now his father was dead. His soul was stripped bare by those incredible blue eyes. Eyes that envisioned a great future for him. Eyes that made him want to be a better man.

Merlin stepped closer, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Yes," he whispered.

Happiness welled up in Arthur's chest and he reeled Merlin in for another kiss.

Later, Arthur lay with Merlin on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his King's heart. Running his fingers up and down the soft, supple skin of the servant's back, Arthur sighed in contentment.

"This is nice," he smiled lightly. "I haven't been this relaxed since...I don't know when."

Merlin gave him one of his trademark sunny smiles, before his face transformed into one of surprise. Quickly, he rolled away, ignoring Arthur's noise of protest and leaned over the side of the bed, fiddling with his jacket.

"I nearly forgot to give you this back," he smiled, snuggling back into Arthur's chest.

He opened his hand to reveal the ring Arthur had given to him for Gwen. Picking it up, the King smiled and slipped it onto Merlin's slender finger.

"It's a bit big, but I want you to have it," he murmured. "A token of my affections."

Merlin grinned again and leaned up to kiss him.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," Arthur replied.

Tomorrow, things would go back to normal and they both knew it. Arthur the King and Merlin the serving boy. But at least they could find comfort in each other in private.

Yes, Arthur was the triumphant king. In just one day he'd won the field and Merlin's heart. It was the greatest victory of his life.