Since Birth

Chapter Nineteen

In the summer, Arthur was ecstatic. Everything was so alive and full, energy at its pinnacle. Next came fall, which led Arthur to believe said name for the season had a valid reason why it was called such. Every leaf, every branch started to crumple and fall, wither away until dormant. False eyes led the blond to believe it was a transformation, for the bright hues of reds, golds, and burnt oranges gave him a new perspective on this season. A sense of deceit. In winter, most people would choose to reflect on the dead feeling snow and ice shed on the world. But not for Arthur; no, this was his favorite season. How the aspect of frigid water caught his eyes so delicately. Ropes of liquid frozen in time that somehow still managed to maintain present. Just when relaxation settled into the heart of the blond, though, spring would ignite and the whole process would be cyclical.

Again. 

It was healing, almost. The oscillation of the seasons was enlightening. Arthur believed humanity needed the same transformation. Talk of the prince's ancestors was supposed to be in the history books as the definition of power and leadership, but in reality Arthur took it as either cowardice or rashness. Running away from wars or starting them—each had an equal effect.

Would Arthur really risk Merlin to that lifestyle?

Of course he would. Because Arthur is selfish. Just like any other human.

That's why he believed Merlin wasn't one.

He swallowed another hazelnut, casting a glance over to the brunet. He seemed relatively better after the night of their arrival. But even a day since the incident, Arthur found Merlin's eyes cast downwards, eventually gazing up with a tension of reluctance.

"What do you think they're doing over there?" Arthur questioned to his companion, perking his head upwards towards the scene. An alter surrounded by deliberately placed flowers, apples, and hazelnuts in clusters. Giving a small smile, Merlin swallowed a bite of his apple, too gazing at the sight with an undertone of nostalgia. "Praising Alaunus."

Arthur bit his tongue in thought. Worshipping was common in Camelot, but to see the Druids doing it too? He internally scoffed. He should've expected such. The Druids worked alongside with the earth, not against it.

Releasing a rough sigh, the brunet let his body fall to the blanket of grass beneath him, everything now comprised of rest and peace.

"Thinking's gonna hurt you someday, Merlin."

Said man's eyes peeled open, as orbs of hazed blue stared at the night sky. "I just wish Iseldir hadn't told me what he did last night."

"Is it that much of a burden, though?"

Merlin bit his lip. "It's just...what if he's already gone?"

Arthur's eyes lowered with a newfound somberness. Extirpating a shoot of grass from its home, Arthur huffed a contemplative breath. "He's not gone, Merlin."

"But...it's bad enough I couldn't save my mother. What if I can't save him too?"

The blond shook his head. "He's safe. There isn't a reason he would kill him without you witnessing it." Arthur grimaced. "That's his style. Gruesome and direct with no hesitation. He likes to watch people suffer."

Merlin scoffed. "I don't understand how you were a product of him."

Arthur smiled. "I guess I got it from my mother."

"Apparently so."

The stars were brighter tonight. More alight. Full of life. Merlin glanced down. He wished he could say the same about his parents at the moment. This...foreboding feeling of dread continued to wash over him in never-ending waves.

But when did it start?

And will it ever end?

"I had a dream."

Arthur looked over. No tears were found. He was done crying. Giving a short smile—yet filled with love and affection—the blond hit the ground softly, turning to meet the other's side profile. It was more soft than Arthur had imagined. Sharp cheekbones from the front didn't seem to stand out so much anymore, yet still managed to compliment the rest of his face perfectly. "Tell me, Merlin." He let his lover's name drip from his lips like honey. How the word sounded so comfortable and filled him with energy. "Explain your dream."

"I...I was there."

Arthur didn't speak, just held his breath in trepidation. 'Define there' he thought. 'Is there here?'

"I was only two, he had said," Merlin's soft voice continued. "Two—yet capable of preforming the elements like it was nothing." He paused. "Then all I saw was red."

"Blood?"

"Capes. With dragons stitched on them."

Arthur closed his eyes. He knew there was more to the ordeal with his father than just a simple witch-hunt. How imbecilic had his mind been at the time? He sighed. That was just but a couple days ago. It had seemed that both Arthur and Merlin had grown a lot in the small time span. Whether or not it was for the better good, Arthur wasn't sure. The blond felt misguided. Life was supposed to be a gift, wasn't it? So why was it biting him in the back so often?

"They were your men, weren't they, Arthur?" He sounded so dull. So barren of life unlike the stars. Maybe looking at them energized him.

"Not mine, Merlin. My father's."
He knew the entire situation was ironic, but then and there the blond felt something stir into a heavier state than before. Dipping a hand into his coat, Arthur pulled out the metallic sheet of iron. It's hue cast a soft glow against the moonlight, but somehow still managed to comprise of a newfound ominous vibe. Maybe if Arthur wished the feelings away? If he believed everything that had been wrong would then turn into good doings?

Maybe then they would get out of this alive.

"You kept it," he heard Merlin sniff.

"Yeah."

"...Why?"

Arthur inhaled. Why did he? The blond didn't grasp the concept of 'no good can come from bad things', but then again it was Merlin himself who spoke of how magic was a tool, not necessarily a weapon for good or evil. "This is yours, Merlin."

A hand then suddenly made its way onto Arthur's shirt, clutching the cloth tightly before taking ahold of the dagger. Gazing over its exterior, Merlin gave a taut smile. Heaving a breath, the brunet climbed to the side of the elder's figure, peering down with a soft gaze. Arthur wished that the younger man was as bright as the stars at the moment. But he wasn't. No, the solemn expression wearing down his beautiful features blocked the balls of light instead. And Arthur wasn't sure if the hue of yellow would return ever again. It scared him.

Leaning down, Merlin planted a gentle kiss onto the blond's lips, the sudden feeling sending a volt of adrenaline to course through Arthur's veins.

"Thank you."

And then like that, Merlin stood up and walked away.

And Arthur? He was gazing at the sky with an ambiguous stare not even the gods could decipher.

A/N: Hello everyone! I love the Celtic religion and love learning about it! Don't feel misguided by the information I gave you; if I am incorrect in any of this, feel free to correct me. In King Arthur's time (early 5th and 6th century), the common religions tended to be polytheistic, so I tried to incorporate some Celtic gods and common rituals and such in this story. Belenus (as I mentioned in earlier chapters and my other books) is the god of light, and Alaunus is known as the god of healing and prophecy.
Anyway, if you all have enjoyed this story so far, please comment or vote on it! It would make my day! Thank you all! Bye!