Merthur - Forgotten

Morning Dew and Afternoon Talks

"You disrespect yourself, following him into the dark like this."

"See how he cares for my every need and tell me this isn't love."

___ ___ ___ 

Via took a shallow breath, her finger poised to turn the page.

The next day was indeed darker. The knights walked with a forlorn determination back into the castle grounds, knowing that if any of them defied Uther, knighthood would be lost and honor would be forgotten. Arthur had looked each of them in the eyes and, in turn, told them by name to go home. Few of them understood their majesty's hesitance.

Arthur left without a word, and just as silently, Merlin followed. A fresh onset of snow had fallen in the night and now it muffled even the sounds of the birds. Only the steady hum of water could be heard from the rushing lake to the left of them. It was lined with trees that stretched out over the water, flirting with gravity in their otherwise still lives.

"Where are we going?" Merlin called. The proud shape of Arthur atop his horse seemed as comforting as the city walls. Unshakable and protective. He did not turn around to face Merlin as he answered.

"East," he said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. Merlin thought that if he could see his face, the expression he would see would be warm honey. His usual conflicted self. "Do you really have so little sense of direction?"

"Not as little as your sense of benevolence."

The provocation worked to lift Arthur's spirits as Merlin had hoped. Instead of dull and destitute, the prince responded with an offended vigor.

"I'm benevolent!"

Merlin sucked air through his teeth and tilted his head, though he knew Arthur wouldn't see the expression. "I've known better servants."

Arthur pulled backward on the reins and his horse gave a dissatisfied whiney. Merlin knew he was in for a slap, but forged through the thick underbrush anyway. A bird whistled in the distance and the sounds of cracking ice in the river filled the air. Arthur's lips were pursed in a determined scowl and though his eyes were narrowed, Merlin thought he saw a bit of humor in them. He understood what Merlin was doing and, on some level, he appreciated it.

As Merlin drew closer, Arthur raised a hand over his head. It came down with the ferocity of a man with a wounded heart. Merlin ducked out of the way and the hand passed him with a harmless nick of the back of his neck. The rush of the swing brought a small gust of bitter snowflakes flurrying around his head.

"Don't you ever wonder why you keep proving me right?" he asked with a laugh on his lips.

"Shut up, Merlin."

With those words hanging in the air like a light fog, Arthur kicked lightly at the sides of his steed and cantered off. Merlin took a moment to watch him go before he followed, breathing in the cool morning air. In four hours, they would rest and Merlin would make a fire to keep the prince warm. Food would be passed around and Arthur would announce that this week's fresh produce wasn't to his liking, just so Merlin could have a chance to taste it.

For now, it was good enough that they were doing something right in spite of the consequences. Even though the air burned his lungs and made the tip of his nose red. Even though Merlin had to watch as Arthur searched for someone in the way he would never search for him.

The ride went on in silence until they did, in fact, stop to make camp. What little wildlife that was out in the winter chittered in the distance, seeming to give the intruders a wide berth. Merlin went to gather firewood without a second glance at Arthur, who he knew would be clearing out the spot he'd picked.

With the deep snow in every corner of every crevice, Merlin knew he would struggle to light the fire when he got back. In the back of his mind, he also knew he would wait for the prince to turn his back and light it in the most practical way he could.

The logs and sticks Merlin found left a dark residue on his jacket after he put them down. He heard a scoff and a sigh from behind him. He didn't answer but to organize them into a stable firepit.

"Merlin, those won't light." Arthur's voice was unusually close and Merlin had to work at keeping the surprise from his posture.

"Yeah?" he answered, defiance always not so far behind. "Just you watch."

It was the wrong thing to say and Merlin knew it as soon as it passed his red and bitten lips. Arthur wouldn't hit him for this, no, but now he was watching and closely too. He heard the ruffle and crunch of leaves behind him that said Arthur had crouched down to watch the magic happen.

Unfortunately, now that Arthur was watching, there would be no magic at all. Merlin would hit at the steel five or six times and the foliage still wouldn't light. Then Arthur would call him an idiot (which wasn't undeserved) and saunter off to find his own, probably better firewood.

But on the third strike, the fire kindled and Merlin breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn't make a fool of himself after all. The fire grew until it engulfed the rest of the firewood. Merlin turned to face Arthur with an impish smile fluttering on his features.

Arthur pushed himself up, "Stand up, you dolt."

The smile faltered and Merlin stood. Arthur used the seams of his jacket to turn Merlin to face him properly and all in a single motion, he brushed off the dirt and moss the wood had dirtied him with. "I hope you didn't think you looked presentable with all of that."

"Who do I have to look presentable for?" Merlin asked him, trying to make his questioning expression look genuine. With the tug of Arthur's hands, his jacket felt tight around his shoulders.

"Try the man who could have you in the stocks with a look." His words were shallow and distracted, but his eyes were searching Merlin's face. An unbelieving smirk tugged at the corners of the warlock's mouth.

"You would never."

"Do you want to test that?"

Merlin did not want to test that and he showed it with a short laugh and an askew glance. Arthur released him and, by the time Merlin looked back, was already treading through the thick snow to his horse. A moment later, Merlin was catching the food Arthur tossed at him and laying them out on a small tarp to be prepared.

"Did you bring food?" Arthur asked, taking his seat against a tree across from Merlin.

"Of course, my lord."

There was a long, nervous pause that made Merlin look up to check on Arthur. His expression was back to bitter cinnamon and Merlin knew he was thinking of Gwen. His pale skin and blonde hair were a sharp contrast to the dark, wet wood behind him. Merlin found himself looking just a second too long.

"I know I'm beautiful, Merlin, but that's just creepy."

"I was wondering if I should bring you a blanket."

"You brought one?"

Merlin passed the sandwich he made to the prince and started on wrapping the rest to preserve what they had. "I didn't know how long we'd be gone."

Arthur bristled in his armor. "I intend to find her before nightfall."

Merlin watched as Arthur picked out a fairly large piece of meat from his food and held it out to Merlin. He took it, feeling the prince's eyes on him as he ate. "I brought my own food, you know," he said through bites.

"You brought bread and cheese. That's hardly a meal. Besides, I've never liked the cook's chicken."