“TRICK OR TREAT!” Merlin shouts as he approaches his boyfriend. Every year Merlin dresses up as a ghost of a medieval servant and, Arthur has to admit, he can be pretty terrifying when he wants to be. Last year, when Arthur tried to deny Merlin’s treat, Merlin jump scared him (Arthur would never admit he had squealed though, especially not to his witch of a sister).
“Treat…” says Arthur, looking frantically for something sweet to give away.
Merlin smiles. “Good. Well, it’s not candy what I came for.”
You’d met sorcerers in your time before as a traveller. So, you knew what it meant when you saw the servant, Merlin’s, eyes glow gold.
It seemed, however, that his master, King Arthur- the reason you were staying at the castle, as an old friend of the family’s- did not.
But, despite having seen many sorcerers before, Merlin’s eyes seemed to have an entirely different effect on you. It was as though somebody had lit a thousand candles on your skin and the butterflies fluttering absently in your stomach had delved into an all out civil war.
The man was handsome.
His eyes were beautiful.
The decision to pursue him had been settled the moment you saw that flickering gold at the King’s feast.
And so, later on that evening, you approached the King’s chamber where you had seen him head and peeped your head around the door. “Merlin?” you called as quietly as you could.
Appearing from around the corner, Merlin smiled at you and beckoned for you to come in. As you did, you headed straight for the sorcerer and told him, “I know what you, Merlin. I saw you, at the feast- your eyes…they’re beautiful.”
He seemed shocked at first but then frowned and stuttered, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking abou- my eyes?”
“Uh huh,” you smiled as you stepped even closer to him. “I want to see those golden irises again.”
“Merlin, I’m not going to hurt you,” you assured him, because the servant was looking anxiously around the room now. “I have no qualms with your kind. My mother was a priestess of magic and I have met many friends through sorcery. Stop worrying and just, show me.”
At that, Merlin seemed to steel himself and with a flick of the wrist, a vase rose into the air behind you and twirled around. But you weren’t watching the vase, you were mesmerized by his eyes. And leaned forward to capture his lips in a kiss.
“I have met many sorcerers,” you whispered into his mouth, sliding your hand up to his hair and feeling his grip your waist, “but none have been like you.”