It's raining and they're almost back from a long hunt. Arthur had his men go ahead while he walked with Merlin. The idiot is so cold he's walking at a snail's pace. "Here," Arthur says, taking off his coat and draping it around Merlin's shoulders. Merlin pulls the fabric close around him. Even soaked, it's warm against his skin.

"Th – thanks," he stutters through his chattering teeth.

I don't like to see you cold. Of course, the words that come out are never the same as the thoughts. "Well, I can't have you freezing to death out here, can I?" Arthur says jokingly. "I'd have to carry your body all the way back to Camelot, and then who would clean my chambers?"

Merlin laughs shakily, slipping into their usual easy banter as he gradually warms up. He's touched by Arthur's gesture. Arthur is always nicer when there's no one around. It didn't used to be like that, but now it's almost like Arthur has to fight to treat him as usual for appearances. Of course, Merlin is an idiot, he's probably imagining it. Even if he isn't, he doesn't know why. It seems he spends most of his time around Arthur confused nowadays.

Arthur watches Merlin out of the corner of his eye. Now that he's warmer, Merlin is blabbering nonsense as usual. He's not sure what to make of Merlin nowadays. Arthur used to be able to abuse and bait him with no scruples, but over the last few months, he's lost pleasure in it. All he really wants is for Merlin to be happy and cared for.

This makes no sense to him, so he deals with it by treating Merlin normally in front of others, while allowing himself to lapse when they are alone. It's getting harder, though. Sometimes he gets headaches just trying to work out what he thinks of Merlin.

The rain is coming down hard by the time they get back to Camelot. Lancelot bravely rides out to meet them with two spare horses so that they whistle through the last leg of the trip. Merlin is shivering violently by then. Stupid idiot, he should eat more, no wonder he's cold! Arthur thinks, eyeing Merlin's skinny frame angrily. He'll make himself sick like that…

Morgana is waiting to greet them in the entrance, all warm and dry; Arthur stomps inside, thoroughly bad-tempered.

"You," he snaps at a passing servant. "Get me some blankets, now!"

The boy runs to the nearest closet while Arthur takes his soaking coat off Merlin's back. He grabs two thick blankets from the servant and drapes them over Merlin's shoulders. Morgana is watching with narrowed eyes, but Arthur's eyes are on Merlin.

"I'm f – fine, Arthur," he insists, but Arthur ignores him and marches him upstairs, giving Morgana only a perfunctory greeting.

"Right, I want a bath, now," Arthur says briskly as soon as they are in his rooms. Merlin sighs, but drops the blankets to the floor. "And I want it hot!" Arthur shouts to his retreating back. Merlin breaks into a grudging jog, muttering something that sounds like 'prat' as he goes. Arthur smiles; he'll warm up like that, running all over the castle with hot water.

When the bath is finally full, Arthur plops onto his bed and opens a book.

"Seriously, Arthur?" Merlin says, exasperated. "Did I really just fill that stupid tub for nothing?"

"No, you idiot. You're going to take a bath first. I can go after you."

Merlin gapes at him.

"Merlin, if your fingers fall off from cold, you can't very well perform your duties, now can you? Just get into the bath."

Merlin's face goes bright red, but Arthur turns strategically on his side, facing away from Merlin and giving him some privacy. Arthur isn't sure when the inappropriate desire for his manservant crept up on him, but since he realised the problem, he's been staying well away from situations involving himself and Merlin and nudity. Merlin teased him endlessly about finally learning to dress himself, but he's used to it now.

Merlin groans in the bath as he leans his head back and the muscles in his neck throb. He must have slept funny. Arthur is up at once. "What's wrong?" he demands.

"Nothing," Merlin says, going bright red again.

"Merlin…"

"It's just my neck, but it's fine," Merlin mumbles. Before he can protest, Arthur's hands are on his neck, and then he doesn't want to protest anymore. Arthur is rubbing the sore muscles, working out the tension. It feels delightful. Merlin can't stop a moan of pleasure escaping his lips as his head rolls back. Arthur chuckles at his reaction.

As Arthur's hands work steadily down to Merlin's shoulders, Merlin becomes aware of a rising problem. He puts his knees up, trying to stop Arthur from noticing, but he obviously fails miserably, as Arthur steps away, his breathing rather ragged.

Merlin has been struggling with his infatuation with Arthur's beautiful body for years. Arthur seems to have noticed recently, as he's been keeping Merlin at arm's length, physically at least. It's a relief in one way, but Merlin still misses touching Arthur when dressing him, even if it was painful at the same time, having to resist doing more.

Arthur throws himself face down on the bed, trying to calm his breathing and get his blood flow back where it belongs. He needs to get a grip on himself, or he'll lose Merlin's trust completely. Arthur couldn't very well leave him in pain, though…

Morgana was passing Arthur's chambers on the way to her own, and saw enough of the scene to make up her mind about something. She calls Gwen, already planning ahead…

"Yes, my lady?"

"Gwen, you know it's my birthday coming up in three weeks."

"Yes, of course. You still haven't told Arthur what you want to do."

"Well, I've decided," Morgana says firmly. "I want to hold a ball, but a very special ball. I will have total control over the dances – more specifically, the dance partners."

Gwen's face twists in confusion. "Why?"

"Arthur and Merlin," Morgana says, rolling her eyes. "They've been in love for years, and I keep being patient, waiting for them to work it out on their own, but I've had enough. They need to have their eyes opened."

By the way Gwen is looking at her, Morgana knows her maid suspected the same thing, even if she didn't know for sure.

"It's getting more obvious by the day," Morgana complains, "but they still can't see it! I honestly don't know how they cope – the feelings are all there, the fools just haven't identified them for what they are. How they manage to live their lives when they're probably in a constant state of confusion…"

"So what are you going to do?"

Morgana leans closer to Gwen, smiling conspiratorially. "I have a plan…"

Three weeks later

Arthur is nervous when he gets up and downs two glasses of wine before Merlin even brings him breakfast. When he does, Merlin sits down opposite Arthur and watches him. Arthur eats quietly.

"Come on, it can't be that bad," Merlin says eventually.

"You don't know my sister," Arthur says grimly. "She's evil. It won't matter that I'm the king of Camelot, she'll make me dance with whoever she thinks will make me feel the most uncomfortable, you'll see."

Merlin stifles a chuckle.

"Don't think you're getting off!" Arthur barks, his nerves making his temper shorter than usual. "She won't go easy on you either, you mark my words."

Merlin's laugh cuts off rather suddenly. "I won't be dancing. I'll be making sure your cup doesn't run dry." It sounded like a question rather than a statement.

"If I have to dance, you have to dance," Arthur says with grim satisfaction at the look of horror on Merlin's face.

"Great, now we're both dreading it," Merlin grouches.

A couple of hours later, the participants for the ball are all lined up, awaiting their fates. When Morgana starts rattling off partners, Arthur begins to relax a bit. She doesn't seem to be trying to make anyone feel uncomfortable – she pairs Gwen with Lancelot, making their evening. Everyone else also looks rather happy with their lot.

When she says Arthur's name, he stiffens in anticipation. "Arthur and Merlin," she says, not pausing as she continues down whatever evil list she is working from.

Arthur is frozen for only a moment before storming quietly over to her and standing beside her until she finishes with the list.

"Morgana," he growls, "I'm not – "

"My rules, Arthur, you agreed to it," she says airily. "Unless you're telling me the king of Camelot intends to break his word?" She smiles sweetly at him.

"I hate you."

"You'll thank me for this one day, Arthur."

"Don't hold your breath," he spits as he strides back to Merlin. Merlin is watching him nervously, looking like he's about to bolt.

Arthur grimaces as the music starts and takes Merlin's hand. "Arthur, I don't really know how to dance," Merlin mutters in panic.

The fact that Merlin is more scared than he is makes Arthur feel slightly better. "It's ok," he says. "You just need to follow my lead. Nothing more than that."

To both of their intense surprise, this turns out to be true. Arthur leads Merlin through a series of dances without either of them tripping or bursting out laughing. Even more surprising, after the initial awkwardness wears off, it's actually rather pleasant. True, Arthur has to be careful to keep his body a safe distance away from Merlin's, but so long as he keeps his head, it's really quite nice.

Merlin, of course, has no sense of personal space. As the music slows, he rests his head on Arthur's shoulder, and Arthur can't help but bring his arms up, holding Merlin closer.

"This is nice," Merlin says sleepily, hours later. They've both had some wine and food from the trays that servants are carrying between the dancers, and the alcohol has loosened them even further.

"Mmhm," Arthur says, his eyes drooping. The heat between their bodies is intense, but after dancing for hours, exhaustion helps Arthur keep himself in check. If he can forget his totally inappropriate desire for Merlin, he finds it relaxing to be close to his friend this way, where they have nothing to do except move slowly on the spot.

Finally, Morgana calls a halt to the celebrations. Many people express the wish that they could have gone on longer, but Arthur and Merlin are both exhausted. Merlin starts following Arthur to his chambers, intending to undress him for bed. Arthur, however, knows how close on the edge of temptation he is and sends Merlin straight to bed.

Merlin looks slightly hurt, but Arthur knows that if he is in his servant's company for much longer he's going to totally ruin their friendship by doing something stupid like kissing Merlin. He wants him so badly it hurts.

Merlin goes alone to his room, feeling oddly empty. It was a nice night. Resisting the urge to lean into Arthur and touch him in wildly inappropriate places was really hard, but it was nice to be with Arthur when his guard was down like that. He seemed so relaxed.

Merlin falls into bed and is asleep almost at once.

The dream comes, as always. He dreams that he is in a cave made only of glass. Sunlight streams in through the walls. Next to him, Arthur is banging his fists against a wall, in his own identical cave. Merlin tries to talk to him, but no sound gets through. He can see Arthur's lips moving as he too tries to communicate.

Merlin tries to use his magic, but it doesn't seem to work in the glass cave. Then something happens that almost makes his heart stop. Arthur's cave is filling up with some sort of green gas. Arthur starts to cough and choke.

"Arthur! ARTHUR!" Merlin throws himself against the wall, desperate to get to his king, to save him, but Arthur is on the ground now, twitching as his breath leaves him…

"Merlin!" Arthur jerks up as he wakes from the dream, the last image still burning in his mind: Merlin in the glass cave, suffocated by green gas, twitching as his life drained from him, Arthur unable to save him…"

"Just a dream, just a dream," he mutters to himself, trying to calm his frantic breathing. His whole body is covered in cold sweat. He rolls over, trying to get back to sleep. You'd think he'd be used to it by now, he's been having this dream for months…

To be continued