Ooh, my first longer fic :S

Saying it now: this is slash. From afar. If you don't like it, you probably shouldn't read it.

This is an over-the-years kind of story, looking at some snapshot times they might have had: Arthur, in love! Sword practice, weddings, Christmas, kids, confessions, conversions, battles: won and lost. Centered around Merlin's empty love for Arthur. Each chapter'll start with a kind of reflection by our own lovely Merlin... enjoy. Please read & review. Thankyou :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. I just entertain fantasies that I do.

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~Nonchalance~

It was one of those days- any one of those days, they were all but a blur- when the sun was frosted in the sky by the freezing air, Merlin knew. It was something he'd never thought of; never even considered- it was ungodly. Later, he realised he'd never been too sure of God in the first place, and that this was something so much more than any old divine law.

His breath caught in his throat and something not unfamiliar rose to his cheeks, to his throat, to his heart and to the sudden light in his eyes. It was difficult to look at him, the light was so bright. Merlin questioned his own sanity- how could he never have noticed?

And so it was. Everyday was sunlit, despite the cloud's best attempts. Everyday was worth every moment, everyday perfectly liveable. Everyday Merlin's chest felt as though it would break its own ribs, his heart swelled so, as his friend, the best friend he would ever have, greeted him. He never minded his darker moods, his snaps or jibes. He just smiled. He knew every word was from the other half of his soul.

He knew then he had been lost, not knowing till he was found.

***

"Merlin?"

"Mmm?"

"I have… a question."

A moment's pause. An eyebrow raised.

"Well don't blurt it all out at once."

More uncomfortable than he had ever seen him, Merlin wondered at his new expression. It was glorious.

"Well… I have for sometime… been thinking."

"Brilliant. My workload has been halved."

Without even a scowl, Arthur continued.

It must be serious.

"There is a matter that has come to my attention… concerning… certain… emotions,"

Merlin never allowed thoughts of hope: they were never to come, so they never crossed his mind.

"Continue."

He cleared his throat.

"Guinevere… is, well… a woman."

He'd noticed. Hallelujah.

"As is Morgana."

"You've known that for a while." Merlin pointed out.

"Yes, well, you see…" His voice became rather gruff. " I've noticed… Guinevere's behaviour around, err, you, Merlin, and…"

Merlin could not contain the laughter shaking through him now.

"Why are you laughing?" Demanded Arthur, affronted and embarrassed.

"You…" He choked through his hysteria, "are asking… my… permission… to like… Gwen?"

Arthur shrugged, an attempt at nonchalance, as the blush in his cheeks reddened every moment.

"Arthur," said Merlin, very seriously grinning. "I must tell you now, I am not in any way attracted to either Gwen or Morgana. You may take your pick." His eyes twinkled with amusement. How uncertain his friend was. How proud to disguise it. It was endearing.

"Well that's all that straightened out, then," Self-consciously mussing his hair, he hurried from the room, muttering about swords and horses.

His smile shrank and his eyes grew ancient. "There's always a third option, you know," Merlin sighed to the empty room. He almost felt it whispered back.

***