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one.
Arthur remembered a shout, a blast of magic striking his chestplate, and then nothing. Which is to say, he was very shocked to wake in the familiar warmth of his chamber when last he could recall they were still fighting that rogue witch. Early morning light was just starting to peek around his heavy curtains, and he rubbed at his chest; he seemed to be in one piece. More surprisingly, he had no lingering soreness, as if he hadn't been struck at all. Strange. A little worrisome, too, that he had no recollection of the time between the blast and getting into bed, but he supposed he should be grateful.
Arthur stretched with a little groan and rolled over, reaching habitually for Merlin. His hands met nothing but cool sheets and an undented pillow beside him; he bolted upright, dismayed to find both the bed and his chambers empty.
"Merlin?" Arthur called, embarrassed only a little by the mildly panicked tinge in his voice.
"Here, sire," The door opened and Merlin pushed through, balancing a large breakfast tray. Arthur's shoulders relaxed immediately at the sight, even if he was a little disappointed to see Merlin already up and fully dressed. He loved their quiet, stolen moments of the morning before the daily hustle and bustle of ruling a kingdom.
"Too early for sire," Arthur huffed a laugh, beckoning Merlin closer. "Come here." Merlin approached warily, still wielding the tray. Arthur shook his head fondly. "Set that down and come here."
Merlin complied, still giving Arthur a strange look as he set the tray to the side and leaned down, clearly bracing himself. Odd behavior. Arthur would obviously ask about it, in a moment. He had to do something important, first.
"Good morning," Arthur murmured, pleased that he was now in reach. Arthur's hand came up to cup Merlin's face. He leaned in to press a kiss to that sweet mouth.
Merlin ripped himself out of Arthur's grasp, jumping back and knocking into the little end table he'd set the tray on. It went flying with a loud clattering sound, sending breakfast everywhere.
"Merlin!" Arthur snapped, shocked and more than a little hurt. "What on earth are you doing?"
"Sorry! What—it just—sorry!" Merlin's eyes were comically large. "What are you doing?"
"What am I—I'm trying to say good morning, dearest," He snapped, the term of endearment reserved for when they were annoyed with each other. Arthur couldn't figure out what about that made Merlin go so pale, to reject his kiss so thoroughly. Did his breath stink or something? Did they fight before bed and somehow he didn't recall? That made less sense; they worked hard not to go to bed actually angry, even if they saved the conversation for a calmer morning.
"Right," Merlin said, face still screwed up in a panicked sort of expression. "Only it seemed a bit like you were trying to kiss me."
"I was trying to kiss you! And now our breakfast's all over the floor."
"Right," Merlin dove to the ground and hastily started picking up the strewn sausages and scattered fruit, muttering to himself. "I'll just ignore that, get this cleaned up and get more from the kitchens…"
"Merlin, never mind all that." Arthur sighed, tossing the covers back and getting out of bed. He knelt beside Merlin. "Can't you just—" he waved his hand about and made a whooshing sound.
"…Excuse me?" Merlin raised an eyebrow, snagging a large piece of bread that had rolled beneath the bed.
"You know," Arthur repeated the gesture. "Use your magic."
Merlin went very still. A long, utterly confusing moment passed before Merlin laughed, the sound harsh in the quiet room. "Oh, I see." He said.
"See what?" Arthur had not had many mornings as confusing as this one.
"You're feeling funny this morning, sire," There was an edge to Merlin's tone, a bite to it that was wholly unexpected. "Playing me for a fool," he muttered under his breath again, though the effect with Arthur this close. "You know I don't have any magic."
"…Yes you do."
"Pretty sure I don't, sire." Again, that edge to his tone. "And if I did, I'd be hanged for it."
Arthur blinked, disturbed. He grabbed Merlin's hand and leaned down to catch his eye. "Merlin, you're worrying me. We removed those laws after my father died. You know I wouldn't let you, or Morgana, or anyone else suffer like that. Not anymore."
A whirlwind of complicated emotions crossed Merlin's face. He drew back; Arthur missed the contact immediately, though he felt it would not be welcome if he chased it. Merlin sat back on his haunches, studying Arthur with a sharp eye. Arthur felt, not for the first time, that those eyes could see to his very soul.
Eventually, Merlin slapped his thighs and stood. "Right," he said, offering a hand to pull Arthur up as well. "We're going to see Gaius. And don't say anything."
"What—"
"To anyone."
"Merlin—"
"Arthur, I mean it." Further protests died on Arthur's lips at Merlin's tone. "I have a suspicion something very strange is going on."
two.
"Something very strange is going on." Gaius nodded, weathered face very close to Arthur. The old man inspected his eyes, turning his face this way and that by his chin.
"He looks and sounds like Arthur," Merlin said from his spot, barely two paces away. He folded his arms tightly across his chest, as if to ward off a chill, and his tense shoulders sat rather close to his ears. "But he keeps acting strangely, and he knows…different things."
"Different things." Gaius grunted as he straightened, stepping back to Merlin's side, adopting a similar posture, crossed arms and all. "Sire, a few questions, if I may?"
Arthur nodded and Merlin's knuckles came up to press at his mouth. Arthur very bravely did not track the movement.
"What is your name?"
"Arthur Pendragon."
"Where are we?"
"Camelot."
"Who is king?"
"I am." At this, Merlin and Gaius exchanged a look. "What?"
What followed was a long string of questions which made Arthur's head whirl. They spoke about the history of Camelot and Arthur's past, Merlin nodding along and throwing in some questions of his own. Arthur confessed he knew of Merlin's magic, of Morgana's, and of the circumstances of his birth. He revealed, a little flushed and speaking vaguely for Gaius' sake, the nature of he and Merlin's romantic relationship, feeling Merlin's gaze boring into him. Eventually, blessedly, Gaius put a hand up to stop him.
"Things are truly diverging, sire. If what I suspect is happening is truly occurring, you mustn't tell us anything more."
"Gaius," Merlin started. The old man hushed him too, gesturing for Merlin to follow. He trotted after Gaius, casting a long concerned look over his shoulder at Arthur. Gaius pulled a large, dusty tome from one of his shelves and flipped it open. Merlin waved away the resulting cloud of dust and followed Gaius' pointing finger. They had a hushed conversation, which Arthur swallowed his irritation about being left out of, before they returned. Gaius set the old book down with a thump, kicking out more dust.
"What is it?"
"We think there's something magical afoot, sire." Gaius said gravely. Arthur massaged his temples, fending off a burgeoned headache.
"No, really?" The sarcasm was not appreciated based on the twin flat glares he received, so Arthur forged ahead. "That makes sense. What do you think is happening?"
Another exchanged look between Gaius and Merlin. "We think you've been…displaced somehow. That you are an Arthur from a world similar, but different to ours. We suspect also that there's some amount of time discrepancy, which is why it's imperative you do not tell us more of your time. These things are…fragile."
"Huh." Arthur processed this for a moment. "So…this is not my Camelot. And I'm…not your Arthur?"
"No. Our Arthur is more…unaware of…" Gaius stopped to search for the right words. Merlin blew out a harsh breath.
"Our Arthur doesn't know about my magic," he stared at Arthur, a challenge in his eyes and the tilt of his jaw. "According to our law, it's still punishable by death." Arthur looked on steadily. He was not shocked to hear Merlin confirm his power. Though it concerned him to know such dangerous laws were still in place, and that his other self didn't know something so fundamental about his Merlin. How their relationship must work with such a secret was a mystery to him, though further puzzling on it halted when Gaius cleared his throat.
"Be that as it may, we must find a way to return you to your own Camelot. Sooner, rather than later."
"Right," Arthur nodded. "How do we do that?"
Gaius sighed, gesturing back at the bookshelves. "We read."
three.
Hours passed, mind-numbingly dull, as the three of them searched tome after ancient tome. Arthur gave a valiant effort to help, though the text was impossible to parse. Give him a trade agreement or a land dispute and he would be fine, but the language in these magical theory books… The words began to swim before his eyes.
Once, Gwen came looking for Arthur, who found himself quickly shoved into Merlin's tiny old room in the back of Gaius' shop. He listened for a moment, ear pressed to the door as Merlin made up some silly, bumbling excuse, and wondered again how this Merlin had managed to keep anything secret at all. Or, perhaps, maybe this Arthur was simply a fool.
Bored, he turned from the door and observed the little bed. In his Camelot, this had been converted into extra storage, so it surprised him to still see it here. He flopped onto the tiny cot, shocked when it didn't kick up dust of its own. Instead, it smelled rather pleasant and distinctly like Merlin. Without realizing what he was doing, Arthur turned his face into the pillow, inhaling deeply.
Which of course was when Merlin opened the door. "Gwen's gone—what are you doing?"
Arthur sprang up and brushed invisible dust off his tunic. "Nothing."
"Right," Merlin studied him amusedly for a moment, then returned to the main room and his books. Arthur trotted after him, but did not retake his seat. Instead, he began a slow walk around the chambers.
"Sire?" Gaius called, hesitantly.
"My eyes need a break from the books." Arthur waved off the concern. "I won't touch anything."
Hanging herbs, fragrant and drying, lined the walls. Here, a shelf of various tinctures, there, more books methodically organized. Arthur let his eyes roam and his feet wander until he came across a basket of linens, on top of which he spied a familiar scrap of cloth. Grinning, he lifted the bright red kerchief. It was soft in his hands.
He glanced over his shoulder to confirm Gaius and Merlin weren't looking and tied the little scarf loosely around his neck, fiddling with it until he felt it was sitting right. Casting about for a reflective surface, he examined himself in the glass of one of the larger medicine bottles.
"I'm starting to see why you like these, Merlin," Arthur said, turning to face him and Gaius. Merlin afforded him the barest of glances, clearly intending to brush him off before his eyes caught on the kerchief, brow furrowing. His nose scrunched just a bit with the expression, which was utterly adorable and one of Arthur's favorite things.
"Is that my scarf?"
"Dashing on me, isn't it?" Arthur grinned and swept his arms out as if to bow. In a flash, Merlin was up from the bench and advancing on him. Arthur barked a laugh and dodged as Merlin reached to snatch the scarf off.
"Take that off—you said you wouldn't touch anything!"
Arthur shook his head, wagging his finger at Merlin and tutted as he continued to dance just out of Merlin's reach. "I meant I wouldn't touch anything of Gaius'."
"Of course," Merlin grimaced as his shin came into contact with the corner of the bench as he chased Arthur around Gaius' chambers. The old man for his part spared them barely a glance, idly flipping a page and utterly used to these sort of shenanigans. "Be a nuisance then — we're only trying to help you!"
"Sire," Gaius did not look up from his book. "Was there any event that you believe might have caused the switch?"
Arthur thought on it for a moment, ducking and tripping Merlin just enough for him to stumble so he could round the table, putting it in between them again. "Oh," he realized, "I suppose the last thing I remember is being blasted with some spell." Merlin stopped, hand splayed on the wooden table as if he were about to vault it.
"What?" Gaius looked up sharply.
"I was… We were fighting some rogue witch. Never caught her name, but she snuck into court under the guise of a villager on Camelot's outskirts, seeking help. She shouted something, her magic struck, then I woke up here. I didn't realize anything had happened at first." Arthur shrugged, taking the chance to catch his breath. "I hadn't gotten out of my armor yet from drills that morning, so it hit my chestplate. Figured it had glanced off; My Merlin enchants all of our equipment so we're magically warded."
Merlin blinked at him, owlish. He took a measured breath, seeming to calm, then very unexpectedly launched himself over the table at Arthur. "You didn't think to tell us this?" He shouted at Arthur, knocking them both to the ground. They scrabbled together, grappling on the floor. "I spent all day looking for what could have caused a random switch and all along it was a spell?"
"In my defense," Arthur laughed, quickly gaining the upper hand and pinning Merlin, who thrashed in vain trying to knock him off. "You didn't ask until now."
"Do you at least remember what she said?" Merlin relaxed in his grip, glaring up at him.
"No, sorry." He said, genuinely apologetic. "It came out of nowhere and—hey!" Merlin knocked him back, using the moment Arthur let down his guard to his advantage, and scrambled from beneath him. He plucked the scarf from Arthur's neck and stood, brushing himself off with a smug smirk.
"Then you're just as dollopheaded as my Arthur, I see." Triumphant, he offered a hand to help Arthur up. "Still, it should be easier to find a way to reverse it, now."
Arthur took Merlin's hand, hooking his free arm around Merlin's neck as he stood as if to put him in a headlock. Merlin grinned and tried to squirm away, and Arthur found himself struck with a sudden fondness. This was the Merlin he knew, his laughing, wry, clever companion. Out of habit and unthinking, Arthur used the headlock to tug Merlin closer and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. Merlin stilled in his hold, and Gaius watched with eyes nearly bugging out of his skull.
He connected many facts of his strange morning, suddenly, cold realization washing over him like a dumped bucket of water. This morning, Merlin had not been in bed; he'd jumped away from Arthur's affection. This Gaius was staring like Arthur had grown donkey ears again, and this Merlin—not his Merlin— was still hiding his magic. Had to still hide his magic.
Ah. He was a fool.
"We're not…in this world, we're…" Arthur found he rather couldn't finish the question, throat clenching with an odd grief. Merlin seemed to understand, though, stony expression faltering for a moment. He looked away, hidden pain briefly surfacing.
"No." He shook his head, not meeting Arthur's eyes. "We're not."
Silence, thick with tension, filled the room. Arthur's heart dropped to the floorboards and stayed there. He couldn't imagine what it must be like, for the other Arthur. For this Merlin. A thousand questions flooded his mind, but a single look at the rigid line of Merlin's shoulders sealed his mouth shut. Gaius cleared his throat.
"I believe I've found something."
The likeliest spell had a rather simple reversal — one part spell and one part potion. It took the rest of the afternoon to brew the latter, wherein both Arthur and Merlin gave the other a wide berth, and soon it was evening.
"Here you are, sire," Gaius pressed a small stoppered vial in his hand. "Take this before you go to sleep. Merlin will speak the incantation, and then you should awaken back in your own world."
Arthur nodded, clasping the old man's hand for a moment. "Thank you Gaius. You're as helpful here as in my Camelot. We're lucky to have you."
Gaius nodded once, clearly warmed by the compliment. "Be well, sire. Now go, both of you."
four.
Luckily, despite a near-miss with Percival and Elyan, they made it back to Arthur's chambers without incident. They both breathed a sigh of relief when Merlin closed the door softly behind them.
It was cold in his chambers, the fire long gone out and the sky outside his window rapidly darkening. How quickly this bizarre day had gone. He shuddered minutely at the chill and Merlin sprang into action, clearly as attuned to Arthur here as his Merlin was. It made his chest ache again as he watched Merlin kneel at the fireplace. He was speaking up before he realized.
"You can—," he faltered as Merlin's piercing gaze found his. He gestured vaguely in the air. "Your magic? If you'd like. I know it's easier."
Merlin's head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing for a moment as he studied Arthur. After a beat of silence, he turned away and reached a hand out to the long-dead embers. Arthur's breath caught, as it always did, at the rush of Merlin's magic, the sheer power in the reverberation of his voice around the spell, in awe of how the world raced to comply with his command. Flames sprung to life, filling the room with warmth immediately.
He'd seen this magic level battlefields and heal wounds, had seen it used to shield and protect, to rend and destroy. He'd seen it light fires to keep him and the Knights warm, seen it ward and strengthen their weapons and armor. He'd seen magic, and thus, he'd seen Merlin. How he cared for and protected Camelot. Its people. Arthur.
How had this other Arthur not seen? Based on how much history he'd been able to tell this Gaius and Merlin earlier, they'd seen their fair share of trouble. How had the magic escaped notice? Was Merlin not using it, in this world? That made no sense to him; there were too many death defying similarities in this Camelot's history and his own, and he couldn't imagine a Merlin who wouldn't go to any length to protect it. It was hard enough to swallow the knowledge of multiple worlds to begin with, much less a world where he and Merlin weren't… A thousand questions burned in his throat as he watched the fire crackle, the light lining Merlin's kneeling form.
"Merlin—" he began.
"I'll go fetch some dinner." Merlin interrupted, standing and rushing from the room without looking at Arthur. Though the fire continued to burn, the room felt colder for his absence.
Dinner was a quiet affair. Merlin ate quickly and only at Arthur's insistence before he was up again, flitting about the room and straightening things up. Arthur kept his questions to himself, though they pressed insistently at the seam of his lips, and forced his gaze to remain on the fire instead of tracking Merlin around the room.
Eventually, going to bed was unavoidable, the world outside an inky, velvet black, broken only by the occasional torchlight on the ramparts. Arthur turned the little vial back and forth in his palm, sitting on the edge of his large bed.
"What if it doesn't work?" He asked.
"Then we try again." Merlin shrugged, trying to appear calm about it, though it was hard to tell whether it was for Arthur's sake or his own reassurance. Probably both, Arthur thought. He watched the liquid swirl inside the little bottle, then unstoppered it and drank it in one go. He looked to Merlin. Mustered a bit of bravery.
"Will you stay?" He blurted. "I'd…like you here when I wake, in case I haven't switched back."
Merlin studied him, expression softening at whatever he found there and nodded. "I'll stay. There's a cot we keep in here in case…" Merlin trailed off, going into the anteroom for a moment. Arthur swallowed, eyeing his large canopied bed. Of course this Merlin wouldn't share it. Foolish.
And, of course, the cot he produced was potentially the worst thing Arthur could have laid eyes on. It looked uncomfortable, horribly small, scratchy blanket atop it and a pillow that easily could have been mistaken for castle stone. He shook his head. "Merlin, that thing looks terrible."
Merlin huffed a laugh and shook his head. "It's not, I promise. I've slept on floors much worse than this, don't worry about me."
"No, you—I'll take that, you take the bed." A beat of bewildered silence, and then Merlin was truly laughing, doubled over.
"You really aren't my Arthur," Merlin brushed a tear from his eye as he straightened, smiling more than he had all day. Arthur got the distinct feeling he was being laughed at, but couldn't stop the matching grin on his own face. Merlin's smile was radiant, Arthur drawn to it like a moth to the flame. "No, sire, you really must take the bed. If my Arthur wakes up in that thing and his manservant in the bed…" Another fit of laughter.
"Alright, alright!" Arthur laughed, lightly shoving at Merlin's shoulder. "I get it, the other Arthur's a massive prat."
"You have no idea," Merlin nodded, still grinning and gesturing for Arthur to get into bed. He complied, warmed when Merlin dragged the cot near and accepted the extra pillow Arthur handed him.
"Tell me about him, then. Your Arthur." He said, settling back onto his bed. Merlin perched on the cot and hummed thoughtfully.
"Well, for starters, you were right. He's a massive prat, and sort of a legend to all the clotpoles of the world."
"Hey!" Arthur protested without heat, pleased when Merlin grinned at him again.
"But truly," Merlin sobered, gaze going distant though his smile did not entirely leave his lips. "He's the bravest man I know. He is the most loyal, honorable Knight, and will be a fair and just King. The greatest Camelot's ever known." Merlin sighed. Arthur listened, mind catching on the 'will be.' He was not yet King here? Did that mean his Father was…Arthur stopped. That line of thought was too painful to continue and Merlin was speaking. "There's nothing he wouldn't do to protect this kingdom, to help it's people. He'd go to the ends of the world if it meant Camelot would thrive, and we'd all follow him there, the Knights and I. How can you repay his loyalty but with your own unwavering?" Merlin shook his head and Arthur felt his face heat. Merlin's expression was indescribable, but his adoration clear. It radiated off of him. "He's sacrificed so much… The people don't even know the half of it." But I do, went unsaid, though Arthur felt it anyway. "But they love him for it. Camelot loves him."
"And you," Arthur breathed, propping up on his elbow to look intently at him.
"What?" Merlin's expression faltered as his gaze darted over to Arthur.
"You love your Arthur, too."
"I…" Merlin trailed off, jaw working. He stood abruptly and went to stand nearer the fire, a profound sadness twisting his expression. He looked older, suddenly, in the flickering firelight. Ancient. Arthur regretted saying anything. He opened his mouth to apologize for being so forward, but before he could speak, Merlin shrugged and sighed, a sad little sound. "Of course I do." His arms hugged his torso, curling into himself just slightly and Arthur couldn't bear it anymore. Arthur was up and across the room in a blink, pulling him into a hug. For a moment, it felt as though Merlin would pull away from Arthur, but instead he turned, melting into the embrace. His hands came up around Arthur, clenching fistfuls of loose tunic, and tucked his face into Arthur's neck. His favorite spot.
Relief washed over Arthur as their bodies fit together; perfectly, as they always did. He held Merlin close, rubbed a soothing hand over his back and pressed his cheek to the crown of Merlin's head. He breathed deep the smell of Merlin, of home, and waited for the trembling to slow, to cease. When Merlin pulled back, Arthur was grateful he did not leave the circle of his arms. Rather, he separated just enough to look up at Arthur. This close, he could make out every individual shade of blue in those dear, familiar eyes, see the flecks of gold in the flicker of the firelight.
"Can I kiss you?" He blurted, wincing immediately. "Sorry, no that's—sorry."
Merlin didn't pull away, surprisingly, and seemed to consider it, eyes dropping for a brief moment to Arthur's mouth. After a beat, he simply shook his head, mouth pressed into a thin line, eyes shining with a gathering wetness. Tears, Arthur realized, horrified at himself.
"No, I…" Merlin cleared his throat, trying to blink the tears away. "I couldn't bear it, I don't think. Knowing what it's like, and not—and not." A single tear escaped, Arthur's heart wrenched at the sight, threatening to break in two for this Merlin he knew was not his.
"Oh Merlin," Arthur breathed, brushing the tear away as tenderly as he dared. "No man is worth your tears."
Merlin laughed, suddenly, surprising them both. "Sorry, sorry," he said, smiling a wobbly, sad, little thing, and shaking his head. "He said that, too." He paused, studying Arthur as the fire warmed them. The room was quiet, save for the flame's crackling, the castle asleep around them. "Thank you, for this," Merlin said eventually. "I'm glad there's a world out there so beautiful. Tell your Merlin… Well, just tell him to be grateful."
"Even when I'm being a prat?" Arthur aimed for lighthearted, but landed somewhere much more vulnerable, earnest. Merlin smiled, a real smile, and nodded.
"Even moreso, then." He pressed back into the hug before Arthur could respond, squeezing once before he stepped back, out of Arthur's grasp. "Come on, back to bed."
Arthur got back into bed without further argument, letting Merlin settle the big blankets over him and catching his hand before he climbed into his cot. "Merlin."
"Hm?"
"Could you promise me something?"
"Anything." Though Merlin spoke automatically, Arthur knew he meant it.
"Don't hide yourself. From the other me. From anyone." A complicated look crossed Merlin's face and Arthur squeezed his hand, insistent. "Please. If he's half the man you say, if he's anything like me, he deserves a chance. More than that, you deserve—you deserve to live freely, Merlin. You deserve—"
"Hush," Merlin shushed him, not unkindly. His other hand came to rest on Arthur's chest, patting him gently. "Thank you for saying that, Arthur. I promise to try, for your sake. For his."
"For yours?"
Merlin smiled, patted Arthur again. "For my sake, as well. Sleep now, it's time to get back to your Merlin."
And with that, Merlin's eyes glowed gold and Arthur fell away into deep, dreamless sleep.
five.
Arthur awoke slowly, something heavy bearing down on his chest. He blinked, clearing sleep from his vision and craning his neck to look down. Merlin. Open-mouthed and drooling ever so slightly, his head was what Arthur felt weighing on his chest, the man bent over Arthur's bedside and sound asleep.
He looked around at his surroundings, recognizing his canopy and familiar walls of his chambers. He looked over at the wooden chair Merlin was barely perched in, having mostly migrated in his sleep to splay out over Arthur. Merlin must have been sitting up at his bedside for some reason; a reason that hardly mattered as Merlin stirred, blue eyes fluttering open.
"Good morning," Arthur whispered. His worries that the spell hadn't worked were quickly squashed as Merlin's head lifted and pressed forward into a near desperate kiss.
"You're back," Merlin spoke against his mouth.
"I'm back," Arthur could have sobbed in relief; he settled for throwing the blankets back, hauling Merlin into bed and tucking him into his side. Merlin pressed in close, nosing along Arthur's jaw and winding their legs together. "Wait," Arthur said, glad when Merlin didn't actually halt his ministrations. "Do you mean the other me was here, then?"
"Yeah," Merlin said, in between peppering Arthur's face with kisses. "He went a little crazy when I tried to kiss him good morning."
"That happened to me too!" Arthur laughed. "Did you find the spell then? The potion? Or did ours just work?"
"Wait, yes." Merlin pulled back with an incredulous laugh. "We did that, too."
"Magic is so weird."
"I know," Merlin agreed, propping up on his elbow to look down adoringly down at Arthur. He brushed his golden hair back from his head, fingers scratching lightly against Arthur's scalp in just the way he liked. They basked in their togetherness before sobering.
"I can't believe there's a world we aren't…" Arthur started, unable to even finish the thought.
"I know," Merlin's brow furrowed. Arthur reached up to soothe the crease away, grateful he could do that again.
"That Merlin was in love with his Arthur too, though." Arthur added, hand coming to rest on Merlin's cheek. Merlin's lips quirked up as he leaned into the touch.
"Oh, was he now?"
"He was," Arthur smirked himself. "Not hard to imagine, is it?"
"Hmm," Merlin appeared to really consider this. "That depends, was he as much of a prat as you are?"
Arthur rolled his eyes, huffing a laugh. "More, if you can believe it." Merlin put on a show, acting scandalized.
"I simply can't — there's no rival to your prattishness, sire."
"Too early for sire," He chided, stroking a thumb over Merlin's cheekbone. "Really though… Do you think they'll be okay?"
Merlin's wry expression bloomed into a full-on smirk, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I have a feeling they'll be just fine." He nodded, mostly to himself, then squinted up at Arthur's window. The barest sign of the sunrise crept through the heavy curtains; it was still early yet. "You know," he said, voice dropping low. "We've got a bit of time this morning."
Arthur grinned and tugged Merlin's mouth back to his. He was very glad to be back, indeed.
END.