When Merlin was born, his mother called him her very own personal Snow White, without the ruby red lips.

And, it was true. Merlin had the same black-as-ebony locks and ridiculous white-as-snow skin. He only needed those red-as-blood lips to complete the look.

Of course, Merlin's mother, Hunith, never said 'blood red'. When she used to put Merlin to bed, reading him fairytales of faraway lands, she spoke of Snow White as having hair as black as ebony wood, skin as white as a fresh snow fall, and lips as red as the rubies on the Queen's crown.

On Merlin's first day of primary school, his teacher read 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs' to the class, and Merlin had been shocked when the teacher mentioned Snow White's lips being the colour of blood.

He never mentioned it, though. He figured perhaps his mother had a different version at home, one which he preferred; it was less vivid.

When Arthur was born, his mother had died. However, just before she collapsed, she held her son for the first time, gasping, 'Hello, Sleeping Beauty,' before closing her eyes forever.

Although Arthur would always argue that the story embarrassed him and refused to hear it too often, it secretly filled him with happiness and love to know that his mother had held him, if only once.

While Arthur was content with his resemblance of this fairytale character, despite what he told everyone else, he wished the story was his, too.

With his father always working, Arthur felt an obligation to do the same. But, at night, he'd lie awake and wish he too could sleep for 100 years until true love found him.

As Merlin grew older, he found himself referring to his mother's words, 'Snow White, without the ruby red lips,' but replacing 'ruby' with 'blood'.

It was a much more realistic image, because not everything in life was laced with riches and beauty. No, Merlin knew that much by now.

So, when he held the blade to his wrist for the first time and saw that sparkling river of pain flow from his veins, Merlin felt complete.

He was Snow White, with his black-as-ebony hair, white-as-snow skin, and red-as-blood anger.

Merlin and Arthur met at a pub when they were 22, through a mutual friend, Gwen.

She introduced them, joking, 'Merlin and Arthur are both in the weird King legend and you're both always going on about your unfortunate resemblance to princesses, so, now you two can talk about the woes of belonging in a fairytale together.' And, with a tinkling laugh, she was gone.

Needless to say, it was sufficiently awkward. Especially after Merlin spilled his drink all down Arthur's 'brand new Armani shirt' and then Arthur scoffed at Merlin, saying he only had two of the three requirements to be Snow White, whereas Arthur was the perfect Sleeping Beauty, to which Merlin had replied, 'more like Sleeping Prat. Or Prat Beauty…you know, if you were actually attractive.'

It was the start to a wonderful friendship, though. After Arthur had stormed out of the pub, muttering about incompetent fools who couldn't do anything right if their life depended on it, Gwen told Merlin Arthur's address and forced him to apologise.

Which is what led Merlin to be standing outside Arthur's flat at 1am with a 6-pack in an Asda bag in one hand and various dry cleaning company brochures in the other.

He knocked, and held his breath. Because, as much of a prat as Arthur had been, Merlin had been just as rude, and, despite any previous comments made, Arthur was bloody gorgeous.

Unfortunately, Merlin had a problem with dropping his sour attitude and pride. So, when Arthur opened the door, looking, thank the gods because Merlin did not want to deal with a sleep-deprived arse, wide awake, Merlin couldn't shut his big fat mouth and say, 'Hello, Sleeping Beauty.'

Which promptly led to the door being slammed right back into his face without as much as a glare from Arthur.

Merlin knocked again, berating himself for his sarcasm, hoping against all hopes that Arthur might be in just the slightest of forgiving moods.

The door swung open again, this time with an angry, 'what?' coming from the blond behind it.

Merlin took a deep breath and said, 'I wanted to apologise for what I said earlier. I'll pay for the shirt to be cleaned, and I brought beer.' He gestured to the brochures and then the Asda bag with his eyes, before looking back up to meet Arthur's skeptical gaze.

The door flew open all the way, and Arthur stepped back to let the slighter man in.

That night they talked – and drank – for hours. It was only as Merlin was standing up to go that Arthur grabbed his wrist, saying 'thank you' before glancing down at the arm encircled in his hand. And the angry red lashes across the pale canvas.

Merlin saw the horrified expression and followed Arthur's gaze to his forearm, which he hastily retracted. As he walked out the door, he turned back to Sleeping Beauty and said, 'I do meet all three requirements to be Snow White, but it's my anger that's blood red, not my lips,' spinning back around and slamming the door shut behind him.

From then on, Arthur made it his responsibility to take care of Merlin. He would go over the Merlin's small flat and dispose of all the blades on a weekly basis until he didn't have to anymore.

Merlin got himself a job as a writer for a photography magazine, working fulltime to discuss the art of capturing images with various artists and writing articles describing how best to capture light and emotion in a single shot.

His days got brighter, and, with that, so did Arthur's. Arthur no longer wanted to sleep for a century, because he had Merlin in this one.

Somewhere along the road of their friendship, they fell in love. It was gradual, and neither of them realised it until a very drunken night, a Hell of a lot of confessions, and an extraordinary amount of clumsiness on Merlin's part.

The boys got married at the age of 26, to each other, giving themselves a fairytale princess wedding in honour of their nicknames and pasts.

On the day Arthur died, although it was peacefully in his sleep at an old age, Merlin became Snow White again. But, this time, the blood didn't stop.

Merlin killed himself that day, knowing that he was finally Snow White with his snowy skin, jet black hair, bloody arms, and golden heart. Merlin killed himself, knowing Arthur was finally Sleeping Beauty. Finally, Arthur could sleep for another 100 years before waking up from Death and working to reunite with his sorcerer again, as he had been doing for the past 2 millenniums, waiting for the time in which both the King and his Warlock awake and remember who they are and who they were together.