Title: Line of Fire
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: In which they both get reincarnated, and it's far from perfect
Warnings: Violence, character death
Word Count: 220
Author's Notes: I don't even know, guys, this just kind of hit me fully formed and I wanted it to be 100 words but it had other ideas
He chases Arthur through war after war, knowing that he gravitates to the line of fire like a moth to the light. Sometimes he finds him before he leads a suicide charge –most crusades, the Anglo-French war, the nine years war, the Welsh uprising, the Crimean, and both World Wars to mention some. Others, Merlin knows Arthur’s been there – the Afghan wars, the Spanish Armada – and sometimes he’s even seen his body, bled out, just too late.
It’s terrible, yes, and it rips his heart out with more force than the bomb at the Somme did, only just after they’d fucked in the officers’ dug-out in muted candlelight, ready for the charge.
But then there are the times, like after the Norman invasion, where maybe they lose, but Arthur and Merlin both make it off the battlefield. And they find themselves a little house somewhere where no one will mind two men living like hermits, no one will hear the muffled moans in the late morning when they open the shutters to let the sun stream through.
It’s their prize, to fight and to save and then to have a life afterwards, away from their responsibilities, away from the expectations of fate, with just the two of them, the land they love, and kisses echoing on, late into the night.