Correspondence

[million_star]

Title: Correspondence
Author: millionstar
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2459
Warnings: Fluff. A hint of angst if you squint.
Summary: An exchange of feelings takes place in written form.
Feedback: Is appreciated, but it's more important that you enjoy.
Disclaimer: The Almighty BBC owns this version of Merlin and Arthur, not I. No profit is being made, no offense intended and this is fiction.
Beta/Support: As always, the wonderfully supportive dolce_piccante & waltzingstar. Thank you both for everything you do! <3

Thank you to shuralove for inspiration as well!

Author's Note: Written for merlinxarthur's fanfic challenge #8. The image I chose is beneath the cut.





"I'll be right here if you need me, okay?"

"This isn't how it's supposed to be. I'm the one who is supposed to care for you."

"None of that," her son replied, reaching for her hand, "you're not well, and I'm not leaving until you are back on your feet."

"Bu-"

"But, nothing. Get some sleep."

"You must miss him."

Merlin smiled; she knew him too well. "He's always with me. Goodnight, mother."

"Goodnight, my love," Hunith whispered as his lips pressed against her knuckles lightly. Merlin crossed the room to resume his position in a chair at his mother's bedroom window, the same chair he'd slept in for the past five days while he'd been here taking care of her.

He slipped off his boots and made himself as comfortable as possible as he settled in for the night. With a mumbled incantation the candle on the table next to him came to life, low light flickering softly against the wall. Slipping his red neckerchief off, he draped it across his lap and reached for his bag, more specifically, the bundle of parchment in it.

It was with a pair of reverent hands that he carefully loosened the binding that held them together and reached for one of them randomly. When Merlin had learned his mother had fallen illl he knew instantly that he wanted to be in Ealdor with her while she recovered. Of course Arthur had understood this, even though they both knew that they weren't used to being apart from each other.

For this reason, Merlin decided that he would bring a little piece of Arthur along with him in the form of a pile of notes Arthur had written him over the last few months.

This had been going on for three months now (yes, Merlin had been keeping count) and the warlock couldn't get enough of them. He unfolded one of the parchments and grinned at the realization that he was looking at the note that started it all. That day had been a busy one, with preparations for a feast in honor of Uther and his ongoing war against magic (the fifth one in two years, yes, Merlin had been keeping count). His back sore and his shoulders tired, Merlin had nearly fallen asleep where he stood when suddenly Arthur approached him.

The prince didn't speak, merely smiled and casually pressed a small piece of parchment into Merlin's hand. The touch had been fleeting but welcome; they'd not had a moment to themselves for two days now.

They missed each other desperately.

Arthur went back to his place at the table next to Uther, who was noisily talking with a visiting liege. The prince raised a glass and turned his attention to his guests. A very confused Merlin unfolded the paper and read it, the words before his eyes eliciting a gasp.

I was reminded today in Council of the sea on the eastern coast. The blue therein cannot compare to the blue in your eyes.

Merlin's mouth dropped open and his face turned a deep shade of red as he tried to process what had just happened.

Arthur had written him a love note. A love note. Merlin shook his head rapidly and scanned it once more, certain that he'd been mistaken.

The words were still there.

His first instinct was to think that Arthur was making fun of... well, of what they had. While Merlin was well aware that Arthur was capable of being tender when they were in each other's arms late at night, he'd never pegged him as a romantic. The more he thought about it, though, he realized that he had to be wrong; Arthur was a lot of things, but he wasn't cruel. Merlin was still stunned though, stunned at the simple grace with which the note that had been composed, that Arthur was capable of such eloquence.

He'd raised his head to the main table and found Arthur staring at him intensely as if to gauge his reaction. Unless Merlin was very much mistaken the prince looked more than a little nervous. But when the brunet nodded ever so slightly, holding the small piece of parchment against his heart for a moment before sliding it into his pocket, the blond unleashed a smile that could light up the darkest recesses of Albion.

A small, secretive smile might have played at Merlin's lips for the rest of the night as well.

They had to endure two more hours of torture waiting for the feast to end but once it did and they reached Arthur's chambers they were insatiable. Merlin still remembered the conversation they'd shared that night in Arthur's bed.

"I liked your note."

"Yeah?"

"Very much," Merlin confessed, Arthur pressing a warm kiss to the brunet's bare shoulder.

"It should be said that if you ever tell anyone I wrote you a love note I'll have you in the stocks so fast your head will spin, Merlin."

"Love note. Sorry, I just like saying it. I certainly wasn't expecting that."

"Well. Yes," Arthur coughed.

"The noble warrior Arthur Pendragon writes love notes. Who would have thought it were possible?"

"Ha ha-"

"He loves to share his feelings with his..." Merlin's eyes crinkled in confusion, "what am I, exactly?"

"You are an idiot, remember?"

"Okay, okay. My lips are sealed."

"You should try it sometime. Writing something down like that, I mean."

"I'm not... good with words," Merlin replied, wrinkling his nose.

"I don't believe that for a moment. You're very good with your mouth. You were only a few minutes ago."

Arthur had been content to let it drop after that, most likely because Merlin then threw a pillow at him, but their exchange played on Merlin's mind for a long time. On two separate occasions he tried to scribble something down but he was never satisfied with the end result. It made no sense to Merlin that someone with his innate, otherworldly powers could be so lacking in something as simple as basic human communication. Give him an invading army or a bloodthirsty beast and he was in his element, but ask him to express his feelings and he was utterly, inexplicably inept.

Merlin unfolded another selection and snorted as he read it:

Prepare my bed and for the love of all that is holy make sure you're in it when I get there.

At that moment, Hunith stirred, coughing. Merlin winced, holding his breath; he'd not realized he'd been loud enough to wake her. Her discomfort seemed to be short-lived, however, and her breathing soon evened out as she fell back asleep. Satisfied that she was alright, Merlin turned his attention back to the correspondence in his lap.

He opened another note, one born of despair. Merlin was relieved that he could look back on this particular note and not break down as completely as he had when he'd first read it.

Those were dark days for them both; days when they found themselves navigating things like doubt and anger and frustration for the first time in their young relationship. Arthur could reconcile the fact that their union was one that couldn't be shared in most circles but Merlin struggled with that particular truth. In a fit of rage, Merlin had ended things, convinced that Arthur would be able to find a more complete happiness with one of the many maidens that Uther presented him with on what seemed like a weekly basis. So, they had co-existed as master and servant and nothing more, Arthur sad yet full of hope, Merlin devastated and yet completely stubborn.

They were only apart for a month or so but it was the most miserable time of their lives. Merlin had slumped down on his small bed after a hard day's work when he spotted the poorly concealed parchment beneath his pillow. His hands trembled as he opened it and scanned the words written there.

While it's true that I desire your lips on my own, and that I want your body in my bed, I need your laughter in my life. Please don't do this, Merlin.

Attempting to muffle his sobs was difficult enough, but the handful of steps he took to tiptoe past a sleeping Gaius were torture. As soon as he'd breached the door he sped through the hallways of the castle as quickly as his feet would carry him. When he entered Arthur's chambers the blond was staring out the window, shoulders slumped. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize that Merlin was in the room until the brunet's arms enveloped him from behind. Arthur turned in his arms, eyes wide for a moment as he gathered Merlin into his arms as though their lives depended on it.

"Never again," Arthur murmured. "Promise me. Never ever again."

Merlin nodded. "Okay."

"I mean it, Merlin. I know what I want. I want you."

So, for the last year things had been wonderful between them. Of course they had their rocky moments but what couple didn't? Merlin still longed to be able to hold Arthur's hand in public, to be able to tell the world how amazing the side of the coin called Arthur was, but he also had accepted that he couldn't, at least not yet.

That was how one autumn night in Ealdor, Merlin found himself struggling with a piece of parchment of his own, the distance between he and Arthur making him especially sentimental. He'd found himself wondering what Arthur was doing at that precise moment back in Camelot. Was he sleeping? Was he sitting at his own window, lost in his thoughts? Were his hands traveling the expanse of his bare body as he-

Merlin swallowed and shook his head, silently willing the blood to stop rushing to the lower half of his body. No good could come from going down that particular road of thought. He tried to think of things what were in no way arousing, like Uther dancing naked.

That did the trick. In record time.

Sleep eventually overtook Merlin but he woke especially early. He stretched, his eyes falling to the small bed in the room and his mother's still sleeping form. He smiled, happy that she'd managed to sleep through the night peacefully for a change. Still stretching, he groaned softly as he turned his neck to relieve the tension that had manifested there as he slept in the uncomfortable chair. He turned his head and it took nothing more than that random glance out into the village for sudden inspiration to strike. He didn't even have to think twice, he simply began scribbling furiously in his own distinctive scrawl.

Merlin stared at the words he'd just written down and nodded.

The old oak tree I climbed as a boy still stands. The leaves that call it home are a fantastic shade of red, and yet all I can do is pity them that they aren't Pendragon red.

I miss you.

Merlin felt that his words lacked the eloquence of Arthur's but he was able to take pride in the fact that they were from the heart; that would have to count for everything. Merlin spoke a few hushed words and in a flash of amber a gentle gust of wind sent one red leaf into the window he sat at. Merlin deposited the leaf into the envelope and sealed it.

He slept, satsified with his efforts, that he had finally succeeded where he'd failed so often before.

The next morning, after Merlin and Hunith had finished breakfast and were sitting together in the sunshine, Gaius arrived to see how his patient was doing. The physician and Hunith went into the cottage so he could assess her condition, leaving Merlin to his thoughts. After a short time, Gaius rejoined Merlin outside.

"She's recovering nicely, Merlin. She should be back on her feet in just a few more days."

Merlin released a sigh. "Oh, I'm so happy to hear that! Thank you for doing this, Gaius, for coming back to check on her."

"She and you are practically family," Gaius replied fondly, "so it's a pleasure, don't thank me. Arthur will be anxious for my return; he's been very concerned about Hunith's health. And," he peered at Merlin, his lips pursing playfully, "about your well-being, Merlin. Interesting, that. He's been very grumpy while you've been away."

"Typical Arthur. Poor George is probably going to run away the minute I make it back," Merlin answered nonchalantly, hoping to change the subject.

"Well, then let's hope, for all our sakes, that you are able to return to Camelot to see to Arthur's... needs very soon."

"Speaking of Arthur, can you give him this for me?" Merlin handed Gaius the envelope and bit his bottom lip. "I know I'll be back in Camelot soon, but this is important."

Gaius raised one eyebrow. "Is it now?"

"Yeah, it's um," Merlin cleared his throat, "it's to remind him to be nice to George while I'm away."

"I see. I'll be happy to, Merlin."

Merlin flushed; he could swear that Gaius was smirking as he walked away. He was pretty certain that Gaius knew about the two of them even though neither of them had ever breached the subject. Merlin was beginning to think that the physician enjoyed winding him up; he'd learned not long after coming to Camelot that Gaius had a wicked sense of humor.

A knock at the door to the cottage early the next morning pulled Merlin from the first full night's sleep he'd had in a week. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled to the door and opened it a crack only to be stunned into a fully waking state when he saw Arthur staring at him. His face was shrouded within a pale blue cloak, but it was definitely Arthur.

"Hi," the prince said, smiling.

"Hi," Merlin replied breathlessly, throwing the door open and pulling the blond inside to envelope him in a fierce hug.

"Gaius says she is doing well. I'm glad that she is," he whispered against Merlin's ear, lightly kissing the brunet's earlobe. He pressed something into Merlin's hand, Merlin's pulse increasing when he realized it was the leaf that Merlin had sent him. "I liked your note," he continued quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Very much. Merlin the idiot writes love notes, except it turns out he's not an idiot at all. Who would have thought it were possible?"

"You did."

"Of course I did." Finally their lips met softly, Arthur's hands carding through Merlin's sleep-wrecked locks the entire time. When they broke apart for air, they remained close, their foreheads resting against the other.

"Show me Ealdor," Arthur whispered, taking his hand, "I hear the trees are lovely this time of year."

And Merlin did.

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