Long Live the Kings (a Merthur story)

The Journey

Hope everyone is staying safe, also, happy pride month!
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Merlin waited, biting at his fingernails and occasionally looking up to see if Arthur was running towards him.

"Merlin?" Leon called down the corridor. "Arthur is waiting for you in the courtyard and Percival has gone to wake Gwaine. We are going to leave immediately!"

Merlin left Leon and hurried towards his chambers to pack a bag. He got some chopped fish from his supply cupboard, it was the dragon's favourite food and he hoped it might tempt it if it was hiding. He then grabbed some glow stone crystals to light the way if they got lost or attacked.

After saying goodbye to Gaius, he rushed down the stairs and out into the brightly lit courtyard.
Arthur, Percival and Gwaine were waiting there for him with horses and swords ready.
Merlin spared a glance at Gwaine. He looked miserable and it was odd to see him stood so far from Percival. They had been inseparable for the past few months.

Leon returned with food for the journey and they mounted their horses.

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Once away from the castle walls, Arthur slowed his horse to fall into step with Merlin's.
"I really am I sorry, y'know, Merlin" Arthur said.
"Yeah, I know you are" Merlin replied.
"Well it doesn't seem like you do."
"Sorry."
"Why are you apologising?"

Before Merlin could reply, Leon caught up with them and began discussing with Arthur routes through the forest.
Merlin decided to speed up a bit and talk to Percival.

"Any luck with Gwaine?" Merlin asked.
"Not yet," Percival replied, "he'll speak if spoken too but it's not much. He's been miserable all day."
Merlin looked at Gwaine slumped on his horse only a few feet ahead of him.
"I almost wish I could say the same about Arthur, he seems to constantly want to talk to me. I'm not quite sure what he wants me to say."

Merlin looked down at his hands and realised he had very little of the fish left. He had been leaving a trail of it as they travelled, hoping the dragon might see it and find its way either to them or back to Camelot. They'd had no luck so far.

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They rode for hours on end, weaving their way through trees, alert to every crack of branches and rustle of leaves.

As the sun began to set, Gwaine signalled for everyone to stop. They dismounted and crept silently to the edge of clearing where they could hear laughter, chatter and the jaunty clang of beer glasses.
It was a dragon snatcher camp.