Chapter Text
The first time Arthur Pendragon saw Merlin Emrys, he was fifteen years old and entirely convinced he knew everything.
Looking back, Arthur would later decide that this was the greatest mistake of his youth.
Not the reckless horse races through the forests beyond Camelot.
Not sneaking out of the castle after midnight.
Not the endless arguments with his father.
No.
The greatest mistake of Arthur's youth had been believing that he understood the world before he met Merlin.
The boy arrived in Camelot on a rainy spring morning.
Arthur remembered it clearly because he had been in an exceptionally foul mood.
The training grounds were muddy. The sky was grey. His father had spent breakfast criticizing his sword work despite Arthur having defeated three knights twice his age the previous day.
By the time he escaped to the courtyard, Arthur was prepared to be angry at absolutely anything.
Which was why he nearly walked straight into a dark-haired boy carrying an armful of books.
The collision sent books flying everywhere.
Arthur stumbled back.
The other boy nearly fell.
"Watch where you're going!"
The words left Arthur's mouth automatically.
The stranger blinked at him.
Then, to Arthur's astonishment, rolled his eyes.
Actually rolled his eyes.
At the crown prince.
"Maybe you should watch where you're going," the boy replied.
Arthur stared.
The boy stared back.
A moment passed.
Then another.
Neither moved.
Finally Arthur said, "Do you know who I am?"
"Unfortunately."
Arthur's jaw dropped.
The boy crouched to gather his books.
Arthur remained frozen.
People didn't talk to him like that.
Knights didn't.
Servants didn't.
Visiting nobles certainly didn't.
Yet this stranger spoke as though Arthur were merely another irritating boy taking up space in the courtyard.
"What's your name?" Arthur demanded.
The boy stood.
His eyes were startling.
Blue.
Not the pale blue of a summer sky.
Darker.
Like the sea before a storm.
"Merlin."
Arthur hated him immediately.
Or at least that was what he told himself.
Three months later they were inseparable.
Neither could explain how it happened.
One day they were arguing over absolutely everything.
The next they were spending every spare moment together.
Merlin had come to Camelot with the court physician, Gaius, who claimed the boy was his ward.
Arthur quickly learned several things about Merlin.
He was terrible at following instructions.
He talked constantly.
He possessed no sense of self-preservation whatsoever.
He had a habit of standing far too close during arguments.
And somehow, impossibly, he understood Arthur better than anyone else.
Including Arthur himself.
It began with conversations.
Long walks through the lower town.
Afternoons spent avoiding royal duties.
Evenings sitting on castle walls watching the sun disappear beyond distant hills.
Merlin listened.
Not because he had to.
Not because Arthur was a prince.
But because he genuinely cared.
The realization unsettled Arthur.
Most people spoke to the future king.
Merlin spoke to Arthur.
There was a difference.
A significant one.
"You overthink everything."
Arthur looked up from where he sat on the castle battlements.
Merlin was stretched out beside him, hands folded behind his head.
"What?"
"You heard me."
Arthur snorted.
"That's ridiculous."
"See? You're doing it now."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Arthur threw an apple at him.
Merlin caught it.
Grinned.
Took a bite.
Arthur found himself smiling despite every intention not to.
It happened more and more often around Merlin.
Smiles that appeared unexpectedly.
Laughter he couldn't suppress.
Moments of happiness so simple they felt dangerous.
Because Arthur had spent most of his life learning how to be a prince.
Not how to be happy.
Merlin made happiness seem effortless.
The first time Arthur realized he was in love happened completely by accident.
Which was fitting.
Most things involving Merlin happened by accident.
They were seventeen.
The annual midsummer festival had transformed Camelot into something bright and beautiful.
Music drifted through crowded streets.
Lanterns glowed golden as evening approached.
Children ran laughing between market stalls.
Arthur should have been attending royal functions.
Instead he was hiding near the edge of town with Merlin.
Again.
"You know," Merlin said, "one day your father is going to catch us."
Arthur leaned against a tree.
"Then we'll be in trouble."
"We're already in trouble."
Arthur laughed.
Merlin smiled.
And suddenly
Suddenly the entire world stopped.
Not literally.
The music continued.
People kept moving.
The wind still rustled through leaves overhead.
Yet Arthur felt something shift.
Something profound.
He looked at Merlin.
Really looked.
At the sunlight caught in dark hair.
At bright eyes filled with amusement.
At a smile Arthur had seen hundreds of times before.
Only now it felt different.
Everything felt different.
His chest tightened.
His pulse stumbled.
And for one terrifying moment Arthur knew.
He simply knew.
"Oh."
Merlin frowned.
"What?"
Arthur looked away immediately.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Because there was no possible way he could explain what had just happened.
How could he?
How could he admit that somewhere between endless arguments and stolen afternoons he had fallen hopelessly in love with his best friend?
So he swallowed the truth.
Locked it away.
Pretended everything remained unchanged.
Merlin accepted the answer.
Arthur wished he hadn't.
It took Merlin another six months to realize he was in love too.
Arthur only discovered this because Merlin was remarkably bad at keeping secrets.
Especially from Arthur.
They were sitting beside a lake several miles beyond Camelot.
A place they visited often.
The water reflected moonlight.
The night air was cool.
Comfortable silence stretched between them.
Then Merlin sighed dramatically.
Arthur groaned.
"What now?"
"I'm having a problem."
"That sounds serious."
"It is."
Arthur glanced sideways.
Merlin looked genuinely troubled.
Which immediately made Arthur nervous.
"What's wrong?"
Merlin hesitated.
"Have you ever liked someone so much it becomes annoying?"
Arthur nearly choked.
"What?"
"You know."
"No, Merlin, I don't know."
Merlin picked up a stone.
Threw it into the lake.
"I can't stop thinking about them."
Arthur stared very carefully at the water.
"Oh."
"And every time they smile, everything gets worse."
Arthur's heartbeat accelerated.
"Oh."
"And they're completely impossible."
Arthur laughed weakly.
"Sounds unfortunate."
"It is."
Arthur risked a glance.
Merlin wasn't looking at the lake anymore.
He was looking directly at Arthur.
And suddenly Arthur understood.
Every word.
Every glance.
Every awkward pause.
Every unfinished sentence.
The realization struck like lightning.
Neither spoke.
Neither moved.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
Then Merlin whispered, "Oh."
Arthur smiled.
Slowly.
Hopelessly.
"Yeah."
Merlin laughed first.
A startled, disbelieving sound.
Arthur joined him.
And somehow that was the moment everything changed.
Not dramatically.
Not all at once.
Simply and quietly.
Like dawn.
Being in love turned out to be surprisingly ordinary.
And extraordinarily wonderful.
There were no grand declarations.
No dramatic gestures.
No sweeping romance songs.
Just two boys learning how to fit together.
Arthur discovered Merlin liked holding hands when nobody could see.
Merlin learned Arthur pretended not to enjoy affection despite secretly craving it.
They stole kisses in hidden corners of the castle.
Shared blankets during cold evenings.
Spent hours talking about futures neither fully understood.
It was imperfect.
Messy.
Beautiful.
And for a while Arthur genuinely believed it might last forever.
Young people often mistake happiness for permanence.
Arthur was no exception.
The trouble began slowly.
Almost invisibly.
At first it was merely responsibility.
Arthur's duties increased as he grew older.
Meetings.
Training.
Political negotiations.
Expectations.
Always expectations.
Meanwhile Merlin seemed increasingly restless.
Thoughtful.
Distracted.
There were moments Arthur would catch him staring toward distant horizons.
As though listening to something Arthur couldn't hear.
"What's wrong?"
Merlin blinked.
"What?"
"You've been somewhere else all evening."
Merlin smiled.
But it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I'm fine."
Arthur didn't believe him.
Yet he let it go.
That became another mistake.
The greatest tragedies rarely begin with disasters.
They begin with conversations never finished.
Questions never asked.
Silences allowed to grow.
The summer they turned twenty changed everything.
Camelot faced growing tensions with neighboring kingdoms.
Arthur found himself buried beneath royal obligations.
Days became weeks.
Weeks became months.
Time slipped away.
Sometimes he and Merlin only saw each other briefly.
A stolen hour.
A hurried conversation.
A kiss before dawn.
Arthur hated it.
Merlin seemed to hate it too.
Yet neither knew how to fix it.
One evening they met beside the lake.
Their lake.
The place where everything important seemed to happen.
The air felt heavy.
Storm clouds gathered overhead.
Merlin sat quietly.
Arthur joined him.
For several minutes neither spoke.
Then Merlin said, "Do you ever wonder if we're becoming different people?"
Arthur frowned.
"What kind of question is that?"
"A real one."
Arthur studied him carefully.
Merlin looked older somehow.
Not physically.
Something deeper.
As though invisible years had settled behind his eyes.
"We're supposed to change," Arthur said.
"I know."
"Then what's wrong?"
Merlin looked away.
The silence stretched.
Finally he whispered, "I don't know where I'm supposed to go anymore."
Arthur's chest tightened.
"You're here."
"Arthur"
"You're with me."
Merlin closed his eyes.
And suddenly Arthur felt afraid.
Truly afraid.
For the first time in years.
Because something in Merlin's expression looked heartbreakingly familiar.
It looked like goodbye.
"No," Arthur said immediately.
Merlin looked up.
Arthur shook his head.
"No."
"You don't even know what I'm going to say."
"I know enough."
Rain began falling softly around them.
Neither moved.
Neither cared.
Merlin's eyes glistened.
Perhaps from rain.
Perhaps not.
"I love you," Merlin whispered.
Arthur's throat closed.
"I know."
"I always will."
The fear became certainty.
Cold and devastating.
"Merlin."
"I always will."
"Don't."
But Merlin was already crying.
And Arthur realized with horror that he was crying too.
The rain hid it.
At least a little.
"I'm sorry."
Arthur grabbed his hand.
Held on desperately.
As though he could stop what was happening through sheer determination.
"You don't have to go."
"I do."
"Why?"
Merlin laughed brokenly.
"Because sometimes loving someone isn't enough."
Arthur hated those words instantly.
Hated them with every part of himself.
Because somewhere deep down he knew they were true.
And truth rarely cared whether it hurt.
The storm broke fully overhead.
Rain poured around them.
Yet neither left.
Not yet.
Not while they still could pretend the night hadn't ended.
Not while goodbye remained a few moments away.
Arthur memorized everything.
Merlin's face.
His voice.
The warmth of his hand.
Every detail.
Every flaw.
Every precious thing.
Because suddenly he understood something terrible.
First love feels eternal while you're living it.
Only afterward do you realize how fragile it always was.
And as Merlin sat beside him beneath the rain, Arthur wondered if some losses stayed with you forever.
Neither of them knew the answer.
Not yet.
But years later, when fate brought them together again, they would discover that some hearts never truly forget their way home.