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Merlin clears his throat to make his presence known and announces, “The prince has decided what he wants for his birthday.”
“And?”
“He would like to meet a dragon.”
The king stares, caught between incredulity and amusement. “A dragon?”
“The Great Dragon,” Merlin specifies, the corners of his lips twitching upwards when he’s met with a familiar eye roll.
“Not a chance.”
“Hear that, Will?” Merlin calls through the closed door. “He said no.”
“You didn’t even try,” the prince accuses as he lets himself in, and Arthur scoffs.
“Try all you like, the answer will still be no. Dragons are not birthday presents.”
“I don’t want a dragon, I want to meet a dragon. How am I ever supposed to become a dragonlord if I never-”
“You will not become a dragonlord for a very long time,” Arthur snaps, because that’s a touchy subject and his son knows it. He never wants to see William become a dragonlord, as it will mean he’s lost Merlin, and he refuses to imagine a world without him. Merlin, who rubs his back as silent forgiveness for losing his temper because he knows Arthur’s been stressed, offering comfort with his touch.
“I’m sorry, father,” Will says, not oblivious to the moment of distress. “Of course, I needn’t worry about that power.” He sits on the bed, watching Merlin’s fingers sift through Arthur’s graying hair.
“We’ll think of an appropriate gift,” Merlin assures. “I will. Arthur’s been working too hard making arrangements as it is.”
“So many people to account for,” the king grumbles. “Lords and ladies from every corner of Albion. There weren’t this many people coming to see me crowned when I was of age, I’m sure of it.”
“The world was different then,” Merlin reminds him, because it was. Arthur had grown up in the time following the great purge, while all William had ever known was Albion’s golden age. “Besides, you were still a right prat back then, I don’t blame them for not coming to see you.”
Will laughs at Arthur’s glare, which is then wiped away by one touch of his husband’s lips to his own.
“Tell you what,” Merlin proposes. “After the big party is over, the three of us can go for a hunting trip. A short one, just to celebrate together. Sound alright?”
Arthur nods, feeling better already as he pulls Merlin in for more kisses. Will pretends to gag but Arthur knows how lucky he is, to grow up with parents who weren’t afraid to show love to one another, or to him. The effects it’s had are significant- Will’s more well-rounded and mature than Arthur was at his age. He’s quite like Arthur was after a few years of having Merlin to ground him, the king thinks, which makes sense to him. After twenty years of marriage, he has learned well enough that Merlin is the center of the universe, and that he ought to remember that fact if he wants a warm bed to crawl into at the end of the day.
The prince bids them goodnight, leaving them alone in Arthur’s chambers, where they will at some point get through all of the necessary planning to celebrate Albion’s Crown Prince, but- Merlin’s lips at his neck, Arthur’s hands tugging at the laces of his trousers- not just yet.