Camelot Enterprise: A Contemporary Arthurian Epic

by GR Griffin

  “Now- you’re just showing off!” Arthur called, quickening his pace.

  When both of them were nestled at the top, Merlin shut his eyes for a moment. The peculiar drink – or Moraþ as Gwen had called it whilst pouring Arthur his third…or fourth…cup – thrummed against their chests. Its intoxicating nature had gradually wavered away and left behind serene warmth and a weak desire for its taste. Sighing, Merlin gazed out into the horizon. Of course he had taken Arthur up to Æsclanğne, the tallest, most majestic tree in Ealdor – possibly in all of Albion.

  “I used to come here as a kid, it’s the best view of Albion for miles.”

  Gaping at the sight before him, Arthur tried to take in the beauty and magic of this wonderful world he’d fallen in love with the past few months. He had been here before, the view from Æsclanğne was far more stirking at night. They were right at the top of the forest, perhaps on the highest tree for miles. The blanket of stars was even more spectacular than most nights, smeared with nebula and minute details that sparkled. The pale moon was full in the sky, smears of wispy cloud curled around it. The whole of Ealdor could be seen from up here, just a small piece of the larger landscape unfolding around. Even the peaks of the Ghedent Mountains were defining the silver horizon.

  Watching Arthur admire the view, Merlin hugged his knees tightly, chin resting on his arms. A few minutes passed, Arthur was still taking in the sight. Merlin’s eyes still hadn’t left Arthur’s face.

  “I’m so proud of you Arthur.” He admitted, smiling against his own skin. Turning to face the man, beautiful and radiant against the moonlight, Arthur scoffed. Inside he was relieved that Merlin had seemed to go back to normality.

  “You’re such a girl!”

  At these words, Merlin’s expression became solemn. Arthur pretended not to see it, barking out a hollow laugh at how ridiculous the druid could be sometimes. Awkwardly fumbling with his own hands, Merlin sighed. Melancholy filled his chest. He knew this day would come; he just had been desperately trying to avoid it, wanting to pretend that it was a myth and not a standard means of life.

  “Speaking of girls…er…you…can..um…” he trailed off, eyes drifting to his feet.

  Narrowing his eyes, the blonde studied the hesitance in those words, and distinguished the upset within the man.

  “What?” Arthur asked obliviously.

  “Well,” Merlin took a deep breath; this shouldn’t be as hard as it was proving to be. “Now you’re one of us…you can chose a partner.”

  Raising his eyebrows, Arthur titled is head curiously at Merlin, who wasn’t looking at him. Realisation hit Arthur on the head. Merlin was stupid and loyal and selfless. Though that wasn’t new news, he had known this a long time ago. Arthur just didn’t think that his stupidity could go any further than it had already. Clearly, he was wrong. He thought about mentioning the kiss, but decided against it. Attempting to mask any emotions, Arthur replied.

  “Oh…really?”

  And before Arthur could continue, Merlin – who resembled a sulking child – began tracing patterns into the mossy tree with a small twig and started rambling.

  “Gwen’s very beautiful, and honest…pure of heart.” He muttered.

  Smirking, Arthur watched the sight before him with cheerful amusement. It was all so obvious now. The sight of Merlin moping like a wounded bear lifted his spirits, gave Arthur a stupid amount of hope.

  “Yes, she is.” He replied thoughtfully; two could play at that game.

  Merlin glanced over at Arthur, who was now looking into the night sky. He was too engrossed in his own misery to notice the tiny smirk spread across that face. He should have known the kiss meant nothing; that Arthur would never truly want to kiss him. The silence continued to grow, and then Merlin suddenly began vomiting words against his will.

  “Abellana she’s a fine singer, lovely voice. She’s very kind. Willow is a wonderful cook; sure you’d love that, wouldn’t love her temper though she’d put you in place. Or maybe Marlow, Marlow and Arthur-“

  “-Merlin!” Arthur exclaimed, trying to bottle up the laughter erupting in his chest and failing. “I don’t want Gwen. Or Abellana, Willow, Marlow- I don’t want anybody here.”

  That definitely shut Merlin up, and a small twinge of sadness etched over his eyes. Arthur didn’t want anybody here. A dull ache in his heart spread through his body, instigating turbulence inside. Noticing the hurt in the druid’s eyes, Arthur sighed and hurled the hidden cards in his hands onto the table. The truth spilled out rather ineloquently. In fact it was muffled and mixed with Merlin’s own defeatist words.

  “Oh. Well I guess that’s…”

  “-Apart from you-“

  “-fine…?!”

  Meeting the blonde’s eyes, Merlin processed the words hesitantly. Arthur was sat silently, a peculiar expression on his face. Merlin wasted too much energy trying to contain his initial shock, leaving him no time to hide the other emotions surfacing. This was everything he had dreamt of hearing, but it couldn’t be. But it could be. Yes. Because Arthur was everything. The past six months had best of his life; Merlin would never admit the reason for this aloud. He had watched an arrogant, self-centred pratface who followed his father’s every order like a helpless pawn on the chessboard transform into a mighty knight. A knight who had taken the time to learn the druid ways, understand magic and face the challenges of the people. He had passed all three tasks set, he had listened to Merlin’s lessons, and he had been blessed by Albion. He was a gift, the Once and Future; Merlin had no doubt about it. The once and future, and Emrys. A bitter laugh escaped his lips, it sounded too good to be true, that was the problem.

  Maybe he’d made the whole thing up in his head, reworked the memories in his head to better suit a fictitious romance that was slowly unwinding. Maybe Arthur’s words had been conjured by magic of some kind, or maybe the Moraþ had induced him somehow to tell lies and break people’s hearts. When Arthur leant over to place a hand on the druid’s knee, Merlin frowned.

  “Arthur.” He began, eyes sombre.

  “Merlin.” Arthur responded simply, a twinkle of mirth in his eye.

  Swallowing-hard, processing the information that had been hurdled his way, Merlin searched those blue orbs methodically. The unspoken things he found within them merely unnerved him further. Ruffling a hand through his messy hair, he let a small smile slip.

  “Out of everyone here, you want…me?” the way Merlin said it made it sound as if Arthur was crazy.

  Leaning towards Merlin, Arthur rolled his eyes.

  “Merlin, considering that you’re Emrys, you’re incredibly stupid.” He watched the druid beside him twist his lips, seemingly unaware of where this was going. Exasperated, Arthur let slip a husky laugh followed by a pensive stare. The thoughts circling his mind all day finally exposed itself from its hiding place.

  “I kissed you earlier. You ran away-“

  Merlin huffed indignantly at that comment and looked over at the man sceptically.

  “-I didn’t run I-“

  “-You’re a terrible liar Merlin.” Arthur snapped, the smile on his face contradicting the sharp tone of voice. Eyes wide, Merlin flushed. A sheepish laugh escaped his lips.

  “I’m sorry…it’s just I never thought that you-“

  Sensing some sort of selfless comment approaching, Arthur leant forwards a little, dizzying Merlin into silence.

  “-You are the only one who really took the time to know me, the only one who accepted me for what I was.”

  Shaking his head, Merlin grimaced and attempted to conjure up reasons why the gorgeous man beside him couldn’t possibly be telling the truth.

  “B-but you-“

  ”-and whilst you are a dim-witted imbecile who interrupts my sentences, calls me names such as dollophead and clotpole, and are completely ignorant to any advances I made- I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re special to me Merlin.” Merlin turned his entire body towards Arthur imploringly.

  “Ther
e’s something about you, and I just feel like…” Arthur’s gaze searched around, as if he could find something to help express himself. “I feel like we’re…destiny.”

  Grinning, Merlin felt his insides turn into a gooey mush of warmth and fuzziness. He leant towards Arthur impatiently. Mirroring these actions, Arthur cupped the back of Merlin’s neck, luring him closer. The moon created a silhouette of their profiles, ever gaining closer and closer. Proximity taunting, Arthur’s breath landed on Merlin’s lips. Vision blurred, hearts racing. With deliberate slowness, Arthur’s fingers stroked the neck gently. Unable to stand the tension anymore, Merlin bought his hands to the broad shoulders.

  “Just kiss me already.” He whispered, lips gently grazing against Arthur’s as he spoke.

  Without hesitation, Arthur sealed the gap fully, capturing Merlin’s lips in a kiss. It was soft, tentative and much more calculated than their previous experience. This time, Merlin didn’t pull away, or stiffen. He relaxed into the gesture of affection, an irrepressible smile spreading. Feeling the shift, Arthur returned the sentiment. The whole moment was so incredibly overwhelming, Merlin found himself overcome with giggles. In response, the blonde pulled him closer fondly, adamant about continuing their soft, playful kiss.

  Better?

  Merlin barely registered the voice in his mind, too content and caught up in Arthur’s exciting presence. Moulding his mouth against his, Merlin felt a swell of glee flutter through his body.

  Yes. Oh yes.

  Chapter 35

  The morning sun cascaded through the branches of Æsclanğne, gently trickling over the two figures. Merlin had been awake for a while now, inhaling the fresh air, glancing at the gorgeous man lying beside him on the smooth blanket of leaves. It was a beautiful clear sky, the day blessed with jubilation and glee. One might have suggested that Albion herself had called upon the clouds and sent them elsewhere, allowing Ealdor to bask in the sun’s rays. After all, he was now a druid. Arthur Pendragon was a druid! Albion had accepted him, he was one of them. The more Merlin thought about it, the less real it seemed. He feared fate would cruelly snatch Arthur from his hands, sniggering and the world would never be the same again. However, the feeling of dread didn’t last for long. It morphed into avid excitement. Arthur was going to live in Ealdor forever – with him. They could ride the skies on their Wyverns, travel across Albion and discover the vast untouched lands. They could have adventures; they could do anything and everything.

  The once and future, and Emrys.

  Merlin felt a smile touch his lips. It was peaceful here, just that little bit further into the forest, away from Ealdor and the other druids. The people, Merlin knew, would have something to say about this: the future clan leader and the future heir of Camelot. For starters, when Merlin instructed Arthur to pick his future partner he had expected it to be a woman- even though in his mind he had begged for it not to be. There had been seemingly no – or very little – indication he was attracted to Merlin, who was very much not a woman. Though now he thought about it, perhaps he had deliberately closed off his heart, believing Arthur would bring nothing but pain. Leaning towards the blonde, Merlin pressed his lips against a tuft of chest hair, and then he slowly nuzzled into his neck. A soft groan escaped Arthur, body thrumming with heat and approval.

  Lazily, Arthur opened his eyes, blinded by Merlin’s toothy grin. Responding with similar enthusiasm, Arthur propped himself up onto his elbow. Bliss, elated, happy – mere words barely described how he was feeling.

  “Good morning.” Merlin said eventually, unable to take his gaze away from those striking blue eyes.

  Caressing the back of his neck tenderly, Arthur titled his head playfully. His teeth were exposed with an affectionate chuckle. He’d never felt so…himself, so relaxed and at ease with the world. He would have snorted if someone told him six months ago that he would find internal peace on the top of a random tree in the middle of a forest next to a druid...and possibly a little bit naked.

  “Good morning to you too.”

  The words were full of promise. Those crystal blue eyes gazed into his peacefully. The world around was quiet, content. Fingers scraping the back of Merlin’s neck, he searched his face leisurely, carefully. Moving his hand from Merlin’s neck, Arthur gently traced those cheekbones, down to his chin, then over the lips, up the bridge of the nose, and the forehead. Craning into the touch, Merlin felt a little nervous under Arthur’s intense stare. He had never really been the conquest of many people’s hearts; love had never really offered itself to him. Until now, with Arthur Pendragon. Six months ago, the man he loathed, the man who had stood for everything that went against Albion, Emrys. A lot had changed since then. Arthur’s angelic fingers had reached his jawline.

  “What?” he said curiously, unable to contain his words any longer.

  “Nothing you just look…” he knew Merlin was going to tease him for all eternity about this sudden sappiness but dammit it was true. “beautiful.”

  Streaks of red flourished over Merlin’s pale cheeks. Arthur was instantly compelled to kiss each side of his face, before languidly tasting those luscious lips. There was no rush with this exploration of Merlin’s mouth. It was gentle, tender. It was home.

  A sound from nearby pushed the pair apart in surprise.

  “Shhh, do you hear that?” Merlin muttered to Arthur.

  Reluctantly, Arthur pulled back, huffing in annoyance. Before he could try and persuade Merlin to ignore the stupid noises – very disturbing noises mind you – and kiss him, the druid was already on his feet resolutely. He chucked his ragged clothing back on using magic effortlessly. Arthur did the same, but still couldn’t master that damn spell properly. Pulling the rest of his t-shirt down, the blonde ignored the smug twitch of Merlin’s lips. Merlin reached for one of the vines, swinging across Æsclanğne and past a few trees. Arthur followed swiftly, his fear of vines relinquished after months of solid practice.

  Once again, that metallic, crunching sound echoed through the forest. Arthur became unnerved by the sound; Merlin was merely curious, not knowing any better. They continued diving gracefully through the trees, searching for the source of the foreign noise. Doubt consumed Arthur, his heart racing in trepidation. The closer the noise became, the more it sounded like machinery- Camelot machinery. That could only mean one thing and one thing alone. Panicking, Arthur leapt onto one of the trees, gesturing for Merlin to do the same. The raven-haired man landed beside him, confused at Arthur’s almost fearful expression.

  “Merlin wait,” he began. “We should go back to Ealdor.”

  Rolling his eyes, Merlin latched back onto his vine.

  “Becoming all domestic already, are we?” he teased, swinging forwards. “Where’s your sense of adventure gone?”

  Sighing, hiding the smile tickling his mouth, Arthur reluctantly pursued Merlin through the forest. That horrifying sound echoed through their ears. This time it was really close, almost deafening to their ears. Flinching, Merlin steered the vine onto the nearest tree, landing a little clumsily. Arthur quickly landed, eyes wide. It was a machine, that must was obvious. Swapping concerned glances, the pair made their way towards the source, walking across the arms of the tree they had climbed. Suddenly, the tree shook violently, swinging from side to side. Grabbing Merlin’s arm to stabilise his balance, Arthur looked up in horror, coming face to face with a dark secret, a dark past.

  It was one of Camelot’s machines. A giant bulldozer was ploughing its way through the vegetation. The tree they were stood on barely missed the serrated edges of the side blades. Arthur had no doubt of their intentions, and narrowed his eyes. Merlin was already reacting before he could try to explain.

  “Hey, STOP!” Merlin roared in shock.

  He was unsure of what exactly this strange thing was- but he knew exactly what it was doing. It was cutting down the forest – destroying the trees! Merlin felt his magic seethe lividly. How dare they do this! This was an ancient forest, an old, untouched paradis
e home to thousands of people. Defacing such beauty was unacceptable. Without thought, Merlin jumped from the branch onto the vast metallic object, pummelling it with dents from violent bursts of magic.

  “MERLIN!” Arthur shrieked in fear over the booming noise.

  Instantly, from one of the hatches on the roof, a weapon appeared and opened fire in Merlin’s direction. This was where Arthur truly appreciated Merlin’s dexterity. He dived away from the weapon hatch effortlessly, not yielding in his hopeless fight against the machine. The machine continued pushing forwards, towards the next layer of vegetation. Arthur watched the scene in terror; Merlin was getting alarmingly close to the edge of the blades. Frantically, Arthur jumped onto the next tree to keep up with the machine.

  A few seconds later Merlin realised his mistake and decided it was best to retreat. He tried to hoist himself onto the tree Arthur was. As he did so, he cried out in pain. He landed chaotically on the thick trunk, clutching his shoulder. Arthur dashed to Merlin’s side, unaware that he was screaming his name out over the intense noise. He studied the bloody wound, gaping. One of the bullets had caught him. Arthur averted his eyes towards the machine; he saw red. He was beyond furious, he was a volcano waiting to erupt and obliterate everything in his path. Now Camelot had gone too far and he had to put an end to this for good. Grabbing a vine, Arthur propelled himself onto the window of the machine, banging against the glass to get the people’s attention. Immediately, the machine halted. The noise died down; the silence wasn’t peaceful anymore, it was eerie and haunting.

  “Recognise my face?” he said, unsure if they could hear him. Not like it actually mattered, every employee knew who Arthur Pendragon was, regardless of his or her position. The men’s eyes widened as they processed him. His expression darkened; becoming severe. His blue eyes turned silver. Outstretching his hand, he fired a beam of light at the window, causing it to crack down the middle.