A Different Destiny / Merthur

Sunshine

"Alright," Merlin smiled, pushing himself up and sitting against the pillows, "you've made your point—"

"Thank you."

"—but since when can you cook?"

This time it was Arthur's turn to blush. Carefully, he took a tray from the table and placed it on the bed, removing the lid from the serving dish to reveal sausages, bacon, eggs, toast, and something that looked very nearly like hash-browns. "I hope it's alright."

Merlin stared at him in amazement. "There's no way you made this. It looks too good."

"Oi!"

Merlin grinned.

And then: "I learnt this morning. I had the chef teach me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I thought it would be a nice surprise. I— the first few attempts failed. And I still," he pulled a face, "I still don't think the hash-browns look right. But I wanted to be back before you woke and—"

He was cut off by Merlin pulling him in for a kiss.

Arthur smiled against the warlock's mouth, savouring the warmth of his lips and how they worked slowly, sleepily, in a way that once again made Arthur realise just how in love he was.

Merlin pouted as Arthur pulled back.

For a second, the Prince just stared at him. Merlin's hair was a mess, sticking up at odd angles and falling down towards his face. He watched as the warlock reached up and brushed it aside, using the sleeve of his nightshirt — Arthur's nightshirt — that was both too small and too big, so that the sleeves stopped short of his wrists, but the rest hung loosely around his frame. He wasn't wearing a scarf either, and the slash of Arthur's shirt revealed the beginnings of the warlock's chest — at least, the part that wasn't still snuggled under the duvet.

"You're staring," Merlin smiled.

"You're beautiful, I can't help it." And then, before Merlin could reply, Arthur left his side and moved over to the desk.

"What are you doing?"

"Just stay there."

"Trust me, I'm not planning on moving."

Arthur laughed, but didn't look up from the desk.

"If you don't get back here I'm eating this without you."

"Hold on, don't be so impatient, Merlin." Arthur paused as his hand fell on what he'd been searching for: a small black box. He'd pushed it to the back of the draw for safe-keeping. And then, twice while Merlin had been sleeping, he'd taken it out to clean and dust it, and double check that all was in order. Everything was perfect, he'd made sure. In fact, he didn't even know why he was so nervous, given that he'd already had his answer—

"Are you alright? You've gone quiet."

"I'm fine," Arthur assured, turning towards Merlin and hiding the box behind his back. "I just," he cleared his throat, "I just wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away."

It was only when Arthur approached the bed and dropped to one knee that Merlin realised what was happening.

"Oh my g—"

"Don't say anything," Arthur smiled, feeling his nerves lift slightly at the expression on Merlin's face. "Just let me do this."

Merlin covered his mouth with his hand and nodded.

"Right. Well, I realise I've already asked you this, but I thought you deserved something a bit better than, well, than me crying— not that I won't end up crying again now, but you know what I mean. And if I do cry and you tell anyone, my first act as King will be to exile you."