Dawn crept slowly over the kingdom, waking up the people as the light fell on their faces. Only one person lay already awake, watching the boy next to him inhale and exhale with the easy pattern of sleep.

Arthur wasn't old. He wasn't young either. His hair was just beginning to gray and wrinkles just beginning to set. He was simply aging. A fact of life.

But Merlin, on the other hand, looked as youthful as an eighteen year old. His features had no creases, his hair still black as night. His voice hadn't even changed from its boyish tones. He wasn't aging. Merlin was immortal.

"Good morning," a groggy voice said, bringing Arthur out of his thoughts. The king looked down and his whole face lit up at the sight of his warlock smiling.

"Good morning, my love," he said back, pressing a kiss to Merlin's forehead. Arthur had stopped kissing him on the lips when his first silver hair appeared.

Merlin shifted in his arms, bringing his own up to wrap around the king. He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Arthur reassured him.

Merlin scrutinized him for a moment. "Yes, yes there is. You're thinking."

Arthur smiled. "Me thinking is a bad thing?"

Merlin was not amused. "It's what you're thinking about. What are you thinking about?"

Arthur's smiled faded, but he quickly regained his composer. "Nothing of importance, love. A simple matter, that's all."

Merlin looked him up and down. "Are you sure?"

The king nodded and pressed another kiss to the warlock's forehead.

Mid-day training was definitely the worst time of the day. Arthur could feel his bones ache every time another sword hit his. It just reminded him of how old he was getting. Old. He loathed the word.

A sound off to the side caught his attention. He turned and watched as Merlin laughed at Sir Gwaine's most likely crude joke. Merlin laughing was probably the best sound Arthur had heard. It was pleasant sound, something that brought joy to the king's heart. He wanted to hear more of those laughs.

Arthur jogged up to his lover, wincing as he heard his knees pop. Age was not going to be kind to him.

"Guess who?" he whispered in Merlin's ear from behind as his wrapped his arms around the other man's body. The warlock giggled in almost the way a teenage girl would.

"Hmmm, I don't know," the warlock mused. "It can't be Gwaine, seeing as he's just run off. Percival?"

Arthur laughed and spun him around, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Merlin leaned in on his chainmail clad chest.

"I love you," the warlock sighed, closing his eyes in content. Arthur brought a hand up to the back of Merlin's head and ran his fingers through his hair a few times.

Arthur gulped. Saying that he loved Merlin had become harder over the years. It wasn't as if he had fallen out of love with him – quite the contraire actually, it blossomed – but he felt as if he didn't deserve to tell Merlin he loved him. Arthur was too old to tell him that. No, Arthur looked too old to tell him that. Merlin was only a few years younger than him. Merlin was just born to never age.

"I love you, too," Arthur whispered back. Merlin smiled and he couldn't help but press another kiss to the warlock's forehead.

All was right in the world. For now.

Arthur grimaced as he was forced out of courtesy to show the Lady Ana around. She was a young thing, eighteen at the very least, and she, well, didn't know what the words modesty or chastity meant. She was making eyes at every male in her respectable age group and heaving her breasts out, showing the world more of her already in-your-face cleavage.

The king found it quite disgusting.

"That servant boy, what is his name?" she asked with a far too much authority. Arthur looked up and found jealousy and possessiveness sweep through him. She was looking at Merlin. Of course she was.

"That is Merlin," Arthur said, keeping his voice calm. "And he is mine."

She blinked, the situation coming to her. "Oh… I'm sorry, milord. I had no idea – You are just so much older than him, I just…" She rambled on.

Arthur didn't pay attention. He was staring at Merlin. His sweet, young-faced, immortal Merlin. Lady Ana was right. He was older than Merlin. He didn't deserve Merlin. Merlin deserved someone younger.

"Alright, what's wrong?" Merlin asked as they strolled through the palace gardens, hand in hand. Arthur had been contemplating whether or not he deserved Merlin again and his thoughts had made him ignore the conversation. "Don't lie this time, Arthur, please. Let me help."

The king, the aging king, turned to the warlock and put a hand on his face, running his thumb across Merlin's cheekbone.

"It's…" he faltered. "Merlin, why do you stay here?"

The warlock's expression turned confused. "What?"

"Merlin, why do you stay in Camelot? You've helped me unite Albion, you've brought magic back to the kingdom; why do you stay here? Or, better yet, why do you stay with me?"

Merlin faced turned shocked. "Are you suggesting that I don't love you?"

Arthur's eyes widened. "No! No, nothing like that. It's just you are so young…young-looking. You are so young-looking."

"And?"

"Why would you stay with an old man like me?"

Merlin's expression softened and he brought his arms around Arthur's neck, pulling each other closer. "Because I love you, Arthur."

The king sighed. Merlin did not understand the situation. "Merlin, I love you. I really do. But why would you stay with me? I'm getting old. My hair is graying, my joints are aching. I'll soon become a bother to deal with. You won't even want to come near me anymore. And I'll die, Merlin. You'll stay like this. Why not spare yourself and leave me?"

Merlin shook his head. "Sorry, you're stuck with me. I don't care if you get old. I'm getting old too; just fate won't allow me to look it. I'll stay with you though."

"But why, Merlin? I'm not worth it."

There was suddenly a fierce fire in the warlock's eyes. "You are worth it, Arthur. I don't care how old you may seem. I will always love you, and nothing, not even age or death, will make that change."

Arthur hadn't realized that he had started crying – out of joy, relief, or sorrow, he didn't know! He still had his Merlin, even if he still had his doubts.

"I love you too." With that, he brought their lips together for the first time in years.

It was fifteen years after that when Arthur died. Old age wasn't the main cause, but it was a contributing factor. His years were finally getting on him, and he wasn't as fast he used to be. He died a valiant death in battle.

At the funeral, all mourned for him, but none as much as the warlock, Merlin.

"I'll wait," he whispered to the flames as the funeral pyre was lit. "I'll wait for you, Arthur. Forever."

A/N: Well, that was rather odd, wasn't it? No idea where it came from...plot-bunnies. Blame the plot-bunnies and evil muffins. Yeah.

I now have an addiction to writing one-shots.

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