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whydon-twego · 10 months

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"You have Arthur's complete trust" Merlin laughs when Gwen tells him this and asks her what she is talking about.

Gwen looks at him strangely, as if she thinks Merlin is joking but then she sees Merlin's expression and can't hide her surprise.

"Merlin, you do realise that you're the person Arthur trusts most in the world, right?" Merlin chuckles again but this time it is with a sense of guilt and annoyance that won't let him alone.

"I don't think so."

Gwen, who until then had been mending one of Morgana's dresses, puts down her needle and thread and looks at him seriously, Merlin doesn't think he has ever seen her like that.

"You two fooling around and teasing each other is fine, Merlin, but you can't really think Arthur doesn't trust you. You can come and go from his rooms as you please, whether he's there or not, you have the keys to his room, and you're the only person who has them, and the whole castle knows perfectly well that Arthur has priceless things in there. I know you shave him every morning and believe me, that is not the job of a manservant,"

"But he is the one who-"  

"That's right, Merlin. He's the one who."

Gwen seems genuinely annoyed that Merlin doesn't grasp how much Arthur trusts him, and Merlin finds himself having a chasm in his chest because he doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to think about Arthur's trust in him, he doesn't want to think that Arthur thinks Merlin is a person worthy of his trust, because Arthur is the most noble and sincere person in the world and Merlin is hiding most of his life from him.

"I have to go, Gwen."

Merlin leaves everything where he is and does not even turn around when Gwen (probably guilt-ridden from that lecture) calls him back.

Merlin hides in the first crevice he finds and struggles to breathe.

He struggles to breathe because Arthur trusts him and he knows it, but he tries to think about it as little as possible. He tries to live life day by day and not think about tomorrow and how long it is that he is lying to him. He tries not to have a heart attack every time Arthur looks at him and smiles or pats him on the back saying "good job!" or when Arthur is the first to worry about him when they are attacked by bandits.

Merlin tries not to think about Arthur's scream when they were separated on a mission and Merlin had to drop rocks to protect him. He tries not to think about the time he had to steal the keys from Arthur's room and Arthur, finding him in the room early in the morning, didn't bat an eyelid at the excuse of the woodworms because Arthur trusts him and simply told him to leave.

Merlin is a horrible person who does not deserve this kind of trust, not when he is lying to the most important person in his life.

"Breathe."

Merlin, caught in the middle of a panic attack he didn't even realise was happening, jerks at the voice and Arthur's hand resting on his shoulder.

"Breathe, Merlin, come on, in and out, calmly, follow me" Arthur takes deep breaths and Merlin tries to keep up with him but Arthur's mere presence makes the situation worse and Merlin finds himself with tears in his eyes as Arthur looks at him more and more worried.

"Gwen!" shouts Arthur then and Gwen is at his side within moments "Go get Gaius, I can't move Merlin from here in this condition."

Gwen looks at Merlin and she's so worried and feeling so guilty that Merlin wants to say something to her but is already so much if he can breathe.

Gwen leaves and Arthur and Merlin are alone and Arthur strokes his back trying to calm him down and Merlin bursts into tears.  Arthur lays a hand on his shoulder and settles him on top of him, not holding him too tightly for fear of Merlin's breathing getting worse.

"I was looking all over for you, you know? I thought you'd be at the tavern or having fun somewhere and instead, I find you here doing the doppol-head."

Merlin laughs between sighs and sobs and Arthur continues.

"You have a myriad of tasks to do. My armour is completely ruined, I have no idea where my sword is and you were supposed to revise my speech for this afternoon but apparently, you had better things to do."

Merlin's breathing calmed and he was finally able to concentrate better, noticing that the king was sitting on the dirt floor next to him and practically rocking him.

"Arthur…"

Arthur turns his head slightly but they still can't make eye contact.

"I have magic."

Arthur stiffens and Merlin already feels lost without his king by his side even though he is still physically there.

"Alright," Arthur murmurs and Merlin gets up to look at him because there is no way he is hearing correctly. Arthur turns to look at him and his expression isn't the happiest but Merlin can't blame him "we've been through a lot worse, haven't we?"

And etiquette be damned, what is right or not right to do at court, Merlin throws himself onto his king and holds him as if he never wants to let him go again, holds him trying to tell him everything he is unable to say right now in words.

Arthur holds him just as tightly and Merlin finally knows that everything will be all right.

And that is how Gwen and Gaius find them, embraced tightly in the middle of a corridor in Camelot.

#merthur #merthur prompt #merthur fic #merlin #merlin prompt #merlin fic #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #gwen bbc #gaius bbc #merlin emrys #merthur fanfic #my writing

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tinyavenuesailor · 1 year

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Crack Fic! Where Everyone thinks Merlin is the reasonable one.

Everyone loves Merlin and thinks he’s the sweetest person, who couldn’t hurt a fly. So, they’re all annoyed when they see how Arthur treats him. The King is constantly overloading his manservant with work, ordering him to do massive tasks and coming up with ridiculous excuses to keep Merlin from taking a break. So, the knights and others constantly try to find ways to pull Merlin away from Arthur’s side and give him a break but Arthur always finds a way to mess up their plans.

Gwen and the other maids sometimes try to help Merlin with his chores

Gwen: Arthur you can’t actually expect Merlin to clean the entire throne room by himself

Arthur: *shrugs* Yes. I’m hardly asking him much

Gwen: It usually takes five maids to thoroughly clean the throne room. It’s ridiculous to ask one person to do so much work and then, to place Lancelot as a guard to make sure none of us can help him.

Arthur: Lancelot wouldn’t have to guard anything if you all weren’t so ready to disobey my orders. I said Merlin will clean the throne room ALONE and that is final

Gwen: I never knew you could be such a cruel person and to Merlin of all people

*Gwen storms off*

Gwaine, Leon, Percival, Elyan and some of the other knights try to steal Merlin away to the tavern to relax

Gwaine: Come on Princess. I’m sure you can survive one night without Merlin

*Gwaine tries to pull Merlin to their side but Arthur grabs hold of Merlin and pulls him back*

Arthur: Need I remind you, Merlin is my manservant and doesn’t have time to play around. He still has very important duties to complete

Elyan: What could he possibly have to do at this time? Most servants have gone home for the day?

Arthur: Well Merlin is the King’s manservant as I keep reminding you and still have very important things to do

Gwaine: Like what?

Arthur: *pauses* For one, he needs to clean the mess he made in the closet

The knights: *trying to process the bullshit Arthur just told them*

Arthur: *crossing his arms, 100% serious, daring them to challenge him*

Merlin: It’s fine guys really, probably next time *pulling Arthur and himself back into Arthur’s chambers and locking the door*

Or when something terrible happens to Merlin like the time he got kidnapped and everyone went into full panic

Arthur: *staring hard at Lance* Merlin’s been kidnapped?

Elyan: They ambushed us out of nowhere and before we knew it they were off with him.

Leon: Don’t worry sire, I’ll gather a search party immediately to have him found.

Gwaine: We’ll make them sorry they ever thought to mess with our Merlin

Arthur: *holding up a finger and turning to Lance again* Merlin’s been kidnapped?

Lance: ..... That is the story

Gwaine: Princess, have you not been listening. We need to hurry every second counts.

Arthur: I heard, just wondering why he couldn’t have chosen a better day to get himself kidnapped

*Everyone gawks at Arthur in disbelief*

Basically, everyone thinks that Arthur doesn’t appreciate Merlin and that their cinnamon roll deserves better and formed a protection squad to help Merlin get the treatment he deserves.

Meanwhile in Reality....

Arthur knows about Merlin’s magic. He is fully aware of how powerful Merlin is and finally sees that his manservant isn’t an idiot. He’s just a bloody madman.

===In the throne room===

*Arthur and Merlin both staring at a dark purple swirling vortex on the floor*

Arthur: *takes a deep breath* Merlin, why is there a hole in my throne room?

Merlin: Well, it's not a hole. It’s a sort of gateway to the dark dimension.

Arthur: Oh, okay. Why is there a gateway to the dark dimension in my throne room?

Merlin: ..... I can fix it

Lancelot: Arthur, I heard you- *looks down at the menacing purple gateway on the floor and then back to Arthur and Merlin*

Lancelot: Should I go guard the door?

===After Gwaine, Elyan and Percival tried to take Merlin out for drinks===

Merlin: You know we both could use a break. I am a bit hungry. Been a while since I had a drink too

Arthur: Well maybe, we can join them after you explain why my Uncle is tied up in my closet

*Arthur opens his closet doors revealing a tied-up and gagged Agravaine making muffled noise*

Merlin: You told me to get evidence that he was working with Morgana

Arthur: And your solution to that was to kidnap him?

Merlin: What better way to hear it than from the man himself?

Arthur: What’s going to happen when people realize he’s missing

Merlin: Don’t worry, one memory wipe spell and he’ll be back tomorrow in his chambers like nothing ever happened

Arthur: You told me those spells were dangerous

Merlin: *laughs* Well, yeah, I’m not using it on us

Agravaine: *making muffled and panicked pleads to Arthur*

Lancelot: Sorry, Arthur, Gaius told me that Merlin needed m- *sees a tied-up Agravaine*

Lancelot: *nods* I’ll go stand guard

=== Arthur, the first to find Merlin after his “kidnapping” ===

Arthur: *folds his arms and looks behind his manservant to see a trail of bodies* Kidnapped?

Merlin: Well they did try to kidnap me. I just decided not to resist.

Arthur: *sighs* Is everyone dead?

Merlin: I was supposed to leave someone alive?

Arthur: *rolls his eyes* Come before I have to explain how my “innocent”, “weak” manservant took out a group of mercenaries.

Lancelot: *already standing guard*

#merlin bbc #merthur #merlin #Arthur Pendragon #chaotic merlin #arthur knows #and he's the reasonable one #featuring doesn't ask questions but always completes the mission lancelot #arthur having to listen to someone complain that he needs to be more considerate of Merlin for the fourth time that week #While he watches Merlin and Lancelot in the background carry around a bag the size of a human body #Arthur: Sorry to interrupt you but I suddenly need to go check on my uncle to check if he's still breathing

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cinnabons-treasure-trove · 4 months

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Bard Merlin: [looking boredly at his partner] Arthur, surely we could visit a tavern.

Mercenary Arthur: [side-eying Merlin]

Bard Merlin: [leaning against Arthur's shoulder] I rarely drink, you know that.

Mercenary Arthur: [nodding, sharpening his sword] I do. You're always on my lap when you're slightly drunk.

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ink-through-her-veins · 1 year

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Arthur isn’t sure what’s going on but something is. On Monday, Gwaine is ill, which isn’t unusual because he’s usually hungover. The oddity is Gwaine isn’t in his room or the tavern nursing his hangover in one way or another.

On Tuesday, Leon can’t train due to a sprained ankle. He’s back to training the next day. The next day, Elyan’s sidelined by stomach trouble. Thursday Percival is absent. Friday it’s Lancelot.

Arthur sneaks away from practice on Friday to figure out what’s going on. He follows the sound of voices to the armory.

“Widen your legs,” Lancelot instructs.

“I am,” Merlin whines.

“It’s about balance.”

“This is torture. Just get it over with.”

There’s some grunts and pained sounds. Arthur isn’t sure what’s happening but he doesn’t like it. He shoves the armory door open.

Merlin, dressed in armor that Arthur’s outgrow, is sparring with Lancelot. They both have maces though Merlin’s hangs limply at his side while he rubs a sore spot on his shoulder where Lancelot just hit him. Both men turn quickly when Arthur enters.

“What are you two doing?”

“Sparring,” Merlin answers as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Which it is, when looking at the scene.

“Why?”

Merlin huffs. “It was meant to be a surprise.”

And three weeks later when Merlin manages to disarm a bandit and wield his sword, Arthur is quite surprised.

#merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #the knights of the round table #knights train Merlin #merlin emrys #fanfic #merlin fanfic #merlin headcanons #ITHVmerthurficlet

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thenerdyindividual · 1 month

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Surely someone has said this but I cant find it: merlin/arthur

NO ONE HAS ASKED THIS YET! IT'S WILD!

This is the ship for me. Two sides of the same coin. The banter. The devotion. The friendship!!! The tragedy of them! Two young men growing up with so much pressure. Two young men who should have no reason to be friends, yet found each other and loved each other anyway.

Merlin sees Arthur as more than a prince, and that is something Arthur sorely needs. He needs someone who treats him like a real person. He needs someone who he can trust unconditionally, and Merlin is all of the above. Merlin will always have Arthur's back, come hell or high water.

Merlin swearing to make Arthur king in season 1, then giving Arthur Excalibur in season 4. The lengths Merlin goes to protect his soulmate.

The way Arthur matures and grows thanks to Merlin's influence. The way he goes from a boy who rages at the idea of being made fun of, to a man who can stand in a tavern while his servant takes all his money in a game and laugh! The way he risked his life for Merlin, thinking Merlin was only a servant. The way he is heartbroken when he thinks Merlin has been killed.

"Something has been bothering you, hasn't it?" "You haven't smiled in the last three days." "I am happy to be your servant until the day I die." "Everything I did... it was for you" "What would you do, Merlin?"

But also "dollophead" "idiot" "shut up" "Cabbagehead" "Merlin can't find his own backside"

They are full of angst, but they are full of joy. They are incredibly competent but also dumbass4dumbass. Jock/Nerd, Rich/Poor, Irritation to Lovers, Best Friends. There is tenderness that they only have for each other. There is vulnerability that they only show to each other.

Arthur gave Merlin a place to belong, and in his own way, Merlin did the same in return. Merlin is still waiting for him at the lake!!!

Congratulations! This is the first ship ranked:

S-Tier

Send me a Merlin Ship and I’ll rank it on a tier list. Note: This is a subjective ranking and a low ranking in no way means that I am shaming you for your taste in ships.

#bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #merlin/arthur #merthur #merlin x arthur #arthur pendragon #arthur/merlin #merlin ship tier list

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sexy-sapphic-sorcerer · 19 days

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1: Magic is a Metaphor < 2: Morgana is a Lesbian < 3: Merlin is Gay > 4: Arthur is Bi

Again with the whole metaphor thing, Merlin's entire character is about having to hide his identity and wishing that he could be free to be himself so that he wouldn't have to lie about how much Arthur means to him. So that's all very gay, but he's also just very queer-coded generally. There are so many jokes about him being more effeminate or wearing women's clothing, most notably in this episode where he dresses in full drag and then takes the opportunity to shamelessly flirt with Arthur. Unhinged.

Basically every other character seems to just assume that he's gay, at least towards the end, because Gaius and Arthur are in utter disbelief that Merlin would be 'seeing a girl'. And of course he isn't, he's actually sneaking around with that druid guy, leading Arthur to question how courting a girl would leave him 'walking with a limp.'

I also think it's very interesting how often Merlin has to pretend to be attracted to women to avoid people discovering his secret, like with Gwen in Series 1 or Morgana in Series 2. Or this scene, where Gwen and Merlin are the only people not affected by the Lamia's seduction charm and they're trying to figure out why. And Merlin says, 'it doesn't affect you because you're a woman'. And firstly, Gwen is like, 'so what?' So, bisexual queen. And then Merlin says, "it only affects men," and Gwen says, "so then why haven't you fallen under her spell?" And Merlin is just like, 'oh shit, I don't know. I can't think of any reason why I wouldn't be seduced by a woman.'

Now, you might be saying, "but Merlin is attracted to women! what about that one female love interest he had for literally one episode who immediately died?" Oh, you mean:

I'm sorry to all of the Freylin shippers out there, but this was so clearly just the writers' last-ditch attempt to make Merlin straight. If you think about it, Freya also 'has magic' if you catch my drift, and that is the only thing that she and Merlin have in common, and the only thing that they talk about. And if you look at their dialogue out of context, it really doesn't seem like it's magic that they're talking about. It's just gay/lesbian solidarity. Also, never forget when Colin Morgan accidentally referred to Merlin's potential love interests as "him or her." So who else could he have been thinking of?

Merlin definitely had a crush on Lancelot. From the moment that they first meet, he just keeps going on about, 'omg, isn't Lancelot so strong and brave and chivalrous? God, I hope he becomes a knight, he would look so good in a suit of armour.' And then he says to Gwen, completely unprompted, "so just for the sake of argument– Arthur or Lancelot?" Why are you thinking about that Merlin? Then that scene ends with Merlin and Lancelot getting drunk and stumbling home together and waking up the next morning having shared Merlin's single bed. So take from that what you will. I don't necessarily think that anything happened between them, not because I think Lancelot is straight, don't get it twisted, just because I think he's a fucking virgin.

But certified pansexual manwhore Gwaine on the other hand, oh they definitely fucked. And it's a very similar situation to Lancelot, Merlin's only flirting technique is just to find some buff guy who's just saved his life and be like, 'oh my god what can I possibly do to repay you? Maybe you could come back to my place and I could tend to your wounds and then we could go down to the tavern, have a few drinks'.

And it works. Merlin literally used his job as apprentice physician to the Knights of the Round Table as his own personal Grindr, and i love that for him. But, of course, these are just side hoes to Merlin's main bitch, Arthur.

You can deny everything else that I've said, but you cannot deny that Merlin was in love with Arthur. And don't even try to say, 'but it's just because it was his destiny'. Because, yeah, like that's any less gay. They're two sides of the same coin, destined to be together, Merlin 'uses magic only for Arthur'. Come on.

Also, it's pretty clear that Merlin cares about Arthur more than he cares about his destiny, throughout the entire show. But it culminates in this scene in series five where, because of very contrived plot reasons, Arthur has to choose between legalizing magic and saving the life of Mordred. And Merlin convinces Arthur not to legalise magic so that he will let Mordred die. He literally enables the genocide of his own people and condemns himself to a lifetime of suffering just on the off chance that he can spend a bit more time with Arthur.

And if that isn't heartbreaking enough, of course, every action that Merlin makes only confirms Arthur's fate. And after he very platonically dies in Merlin's arms, as dudebros do, what does Merlin do? does he go back to Camelot and live a full happy heterosexual life? Of course not. No, he spends the next one and a half thousand years just waiting at Arthur's resting place, waiting for the day that Arthur will be resurrected and they can be together again. What the fuck kind of Greek tragedy, Achilles and Patroclus level shit is that? That is fucking gay.

#this is so fucking long omg sorry #consider this series as a masterpost of all of my ramblings #merlin #merlance #merwaine #merthur #bbc merlin #merlin meta #the magic of metaphor

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helloalycia · 8 months

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the king’s ward [one] // morgana pendragon

summary: when you and your brother travel to Camelot to compete in a fighting competition, there's one problem: women can't fight. So, naturally, you convince him to switch places with you whilst you have your chance to fight. And impressing the King's Ward is merely a bonus.

warning/s: mentions of fighting and violence.

author's note: hello! so this was impulse written not long ago when i rewatched merlin bc who doesn't love katie mcgrath? it's inspired by that merlin ep where arthur uses a decoy in his jousting (?) match! and it's kind of like she's the man if you think about it haha, so do enjoy! it's a multi-part imagine :)

two / three / four / masterlist / wattpad

"This is gonna be amazing, Y/B/N," I said with a grin, trying to contain my excitement as we approached the tournament grounds.

"Reign it in," he said lightheartedly, though I knew he was right. I wasn't supposed to be competing, he was, so I had to play the part.

Every year, Camelot held a fighting tournament that anybody could compete in, even those who weren't knights. There were no rules and it was an open competition, however despite nothing explicitly saying women couldn't compete, it was a given. And so every year, I only dreamt of competing so that I could see if I was as good as I hoped. Finally, I came up with the genius idea for my brother, Y/B/N, to pretend to compete whilst I actually did the fighting. It wasn't foolproof, but I was desperate, and he agreed after much convincing.

We'd arrived in Camelot last night, our first ever visit to the kingdom, and were staying in the full to-the-brim tavern in a room above the pub. It wasn't ideal, but it would do the job. The real reason I was here was right before me and I couldn't be more excited.

"Y/B/N Y/L/N?" a voice called, and my brother and I both spun around to see a servant boy approaching. "You're up first. You can use the tent over there to get into your armour, if you have any."

"Thank you," Y/B/N said with a nod before we both headed over to his – AKA mine – tent.

"This is perfect for making the switch," I said with a contained grin, looking around the enclosed space.

"You heard the boy, you're up first," Y/B/N said with a smile, before dropping our bag on the bench. "Let's get you suited up."

He helped me pull my armour over the top of my clothes, a bulky-looking but lightweight set that fit us both and was easy enough for me to manoeuvre in whilst also hiding any distinguishable feminine body parts that could give me away. After that, he handed me my sword and gave me a supportive nod.

"Good luck out there," he said, my helmet in his hand. "You're gonna smash it, sis."

I grinned. "I will indeed. They aren't going to know what's hit them."

He laughed and helped me put on my helmet, the metal covering my whole head except for some slits in the eyes to let me see.

"You ready?" he asked once more, and I gave him a thumbs up, already committing to staying quiet. He patted my back. "Go and win!"

Taking a deep breath, I left the tent and headed to the grounds, the sight of all those people watching only exciting me more. All I'd ever dreamt of was showing people my skills, for them to take me seriously. Not as a woman or a man, but a fighter. And this was my chance, finally. I wasn't going to let it slip by.

"I'm sure you're all excited about the tournament, as am I," the King began to speak, silencing everyone in seconds. "It's going to be a magnificent week of fighting, skill and talent. We shall see who the best fighters of Albion truly are. Starting with our first match of the tournament – Y/B/N Y/L/N versus Henry Wright!"

The crowd erupted into cheers as my opponent and I walked in the centre, our chosen weapons at our side. The King looked down at us both with anticipation, waiting for quiet. And then when he was ready, he raised his hand.

"You may begin," was all he said, and I barely had chance to take a breath before my opponent, Henry, swung first.

His mace, spiked and heavy, almost took my head off if I didn't move in time. The crowd 'ooh'd' as it did and I tried to tune them out, focusing on the fight. I couldn't afford distractions.

As Henry kept moving forward, slashing his mace at me and trying to touch my armour, I dodged effortlessly. Henry may have been strong, but he was slow, and his weapon of choice was particularly terrible. Once he'd worn himself out, it was my turn to take a swing at him, my sword coming down on his gauntlets in a wide arc. Contact was made and he grunted loudly, grossly, and stepped back. I slashed a few more times, to which he was now on the defensive, using his clunky weapon as a barrier. But it didn't faze me as I kept on slashing, trying to back him into the side.

Once he was trapped, I let him take a shot at me, only to roll to the side at the last second and swipe his legs out from beneath him. He hit the ground as quickly as I directed my sword at his neck. Lifting his hands in defeat, I couldn't fight the grin from my lips.

The crowd erupted into cheers, yelling my brother's name, and I lowered my sword before offering out my hand. Henry let me pull him up before letting go bitterly, walking off the grounds. I laughed to myself before looking around me at the crowd, waving a little too cockily. I couldn't help it – I'd won! My first match!

When I turned to face the King, I saw he was clapping in his chair, impressed at my handiwork. Seated beside him was his ward, Morgana, and I'd heard so much of her but never seen her before. I wasn't prepared for her beauty, nor the vibrancy of her green eyes in the sun, even from a distance. And once again, I couldn't help but let my cockiness get the better of me. Between waving, I blew her a kiss, facing her directly in a way that I hoped she knew it was for her. Judging from the way she immediately turned pink in the face, I knew I'd succeeded.

After soaking in the glory a moment longer, I left to return to Y/B/N who was waiting for me in the tent. As soon as he saw me, a grin was on his face.

"Sounds like you gave them a good show," he commented as I rushed to remove my helmet and armour.

"Y/B/N, it was like nothing I've ever experienced," I admitted, still buzzing with adrenaline and excitement. "It was perfect. And you should've seen the way I got the other guy on his butt!"

He chuckled as I helped pull the armour onto him. "I'm sure it was something special. It's a shame I can't watch."

"We can't risk you being caught," I reminded him, before handing my sword and helmet. "Go on. Do your final waves. Don't forget to rub it in their face that I won, yeah?"

He rolled his eyes playfully. "I'm not doing that."

I laughed as he left the tent. My smile was permanent as I stood alone. One round down, several more to go.

"The other guys are pretty rough," Y/B/N said as we hung back to watch the other matches and get a better feel for the competition. "You sure you're up for it?"

"Don't even joke," I said to him with a knowing look. "You know it's all I want. They don't scare me."

He raised his eyebrows. "Hey, I was thinking more about them. They're gonna get smothered and not even know it. You don't wanna give them a chance?"

A smile grew on my lips as I shoved him in the side. "You're so stupid."

He mirrored my smile before paying attention to the fights. We stayed there until the last fight before chatting about what we'd seen by the tents. The crowd was dispersing and the other fighters were talking about getting a drink at the tavern, even inviting my brother to join them. He found it strange, the attention, especially since he knew it wasn't for him. I assured him he had to be a team player and not raise suspicion, but he wasn't impressed.

As we were chatting, I couldn't help but notice a blur of black hair in my peripheral vision, and when I looked, I saw the Lady Morgana walking by with her handmaiden. She spotted my brother and I and, naturally, her attention was on my brother. She flashed him a smile, to which he awkwardly returned, and then began to approach us.

"Er, why is the Lady Morgana coming to talk to us?" Y/B/N asked nervously.

"No idea," I said, though my own smile was tempting to break out as my eyes wandered over her figure. She was seriously stunning.

"Hello there," Morgana spoke when she stopped before us. "It's Y/B/N, right?"

He nodded slowly, before clearing his throat and bowing. "A pleasure to meet you, my lady."

"Please, no need for the formalities," she said with a slight laugh, one that I knew I'd be dreaming of for days. "I just came to say that you put up a good fight this morning. I look forward to seeing your performance throughout the week."

"Thank you, my lady," was all he said, and I almost rolled my eyes at his dense self. Couldn't he see she was interested him?

"And who is this pretty lady?" she continued, and I realised she was speaking to me.

"I'm Y/N, my lady," I introduced myself with a smile. "Y/B/N's twin sister. Not identical, thankfully."

Y/B/N rolled his eyes as Morgana laughed at my joke.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you, Y/N," she said, eyes lingering on mine. "Might I say, you have a very talented brother."

I hummed in agreement, biting my tongue and trying not to laugh. Talented... I'd take it.

"I should be going, but have a good evening, both of you," Morgana finished, glancing between us before leaving.

"Y/N, what did you do? Why is she suddenly interested?" Y/B/N asked as I watched her walk away, entranced.

"Nothing," I reassured him, before tearing my gaze from Morgana and looking to Y/B/N. "What? I didn't do anything!"

He rolled his eyes and shoved me before walking away. I bit my lip to contain a grin and skipped after him. I was beginning to like it here.

The next fight was soon upon me and it was safe to say that I was nailing it. My opponent was supposed to be a challenge, but I could swear it was only getting easier. He was over six feet tall and towering over me. Compared to me AKA Y/B/N, he was huge. Luckily for me, height wasn't an issue as my brother and I were close enough in height, a solid five foot eight and nine respectively, so it wouldn't give us away.

The fight was over in minutes, with me landing a winning blow to my clown of an opponent, right in the gut. As soon as he was down, the crowd were up and out of their seats, cheering me on. The intensity of their cheering surprised me at first, as I didn't realise they loved me so much. It took them longer to calm down, and a few flowers were thrown from the stands, making me grin as I waved at them. When I looked to the King, he was surprisingly smiling as he clapped his leather-gloved hands heavily. Morgana was stood up beside him, clapping with the crowd, and I couldn't stop myself.

Without thinking, I picked up a flower from the ground, dusted it off on my armour and threw it up to her. I was relieved when it landed at her feet, worried I'd missed, and she seemed surprised as she picked it up. When she looked at me, I bowed respectfully, making the crowd cheer even louder, and I tried to pretend I couldn't see King Uther losing his smile as he looked at me with suspicion. Oops?

I jogged back to the tent, feeling lightweight and overwhelmingly happy. Y/B/N clapped me on the back in congratulations before we exchanged gear and he headed back out to reveal his face, waving once more.

After he soaked in the glory for a little longer, I packed up our things and we left the tent to get some water. A few knights, to our surprise, approached us and began chatting to Y/B/N about his technique. He played along perfectly, since he was a decent fighter himself, and I merely watched as they spoke of my moves and skill, grinning to myself. Clearly I was doing better than I thought if the knights of Camelot were complimenting me.

"Hey, Y/B/N," a voice called from behind, and we both turned to see a flirtatiously-smiling Morgana walking past. She nodded at my brother, saying, "The flower was cute."

Poor Y/B/N was clueless. "The flower?"

Morgana laughed, thinking he was joking, and left. I suppressed a smile as we both turned to the knights. One of them gave Y/B/N a knowing look.

"Bold move giving the King's ward a flower right in front of the King himself," they said with a snicker, before leaving.

Y/B/N blinked and began to turn to me. "I did what?"

I smiled sheepishly. "What? She was impressed by my skill! How could I resist?"

"Y/N!"

"Look, she's pretty and she deserved it, okay?" I said nonchalantly. "It's no biggie."

He facepalmed and I could tell he was already regretting changing places with me.

Later that same evening, Y/B/N and I were making the most of the training grounds that Prince Arthur was letting the contestants use for the week. To everyone else, I was merely practicing with him, but to us, he was actually helping me practice.

For the third time in five minutes, I knocked Y/B/N on his butt and laughed at the expression on his face.

"C'mon, at least give me some sort of challenge," I teased, holding out my hand for him.

He let me help him up as he gave me a knowing look. "Don't be too good or people will suspect."

I scoffed. "Nobody will think twice about me."

"Oh yeah, because you're so inconspicuous dressed like that," he said sarcastically.

I ignored him, though I knew he was only looking out for me. Ladies wore frocks and dresses, not pants and shirts. But I didn't like to be restricted – why was that such a bad thing? I hated that I had to put myself in a box just to make others feel comfortable. It wasn't fair.

"Are you ready?" I asked, readying my sword.

He nodded and did the same before coming at me without warning. I held my own well enough, even with him giving his all, and with the utmost satisfaction, I managed to land him on his butt yet again. He narrowed his eyes at me and I began to laugh before pissing him off that little bit more by twiddling the hilt of my sword on my forefinger in the air, watching it spin before catching it. It was a silly little celebratory move I liked to do, one that Y/B/N hated because it usually meant I had beaten him.

Grumbling to himself, Y/B/N helped himself stand up as I watched on with amusement.

"Impressive."

Surprised, I turned around and definitely didn't expect to see the Lady Morgana approaching us.

"You're almost as good as your brother," she commented, looking at me.

Smile fading slightly, I tried not to draw anymore attention to myself. "Something like that."

She lifted a brow curiously. "It's a shame you couldn't compete. You're better than half the men in this competition."

"It's just how it is, my lady. The King's rules," I said, though I was secretly smiling because she thought I was good. As me, the real me, not my brother.

"If it were up to me, I'd have loved to watch you fight," she said, making me smile to myself. I risked glancing at her and saw she was watching me with her own smile, before looking to my brother.

"Good luck tomorrow," she said to him considerately.

"Thank you, my lady," Y/B/N said, bowing.

She nodded her head at him before catching my staring, offering a smile, then leaving.

"Gosh, she's so pretty," I said, unable to look away from her.

"Not here, not now," Y/B/N said in a warning tone before slapping me on the back.

"I'm gonna win just to see her smile," I decided, finally looking away from her retreating figure.

Y/B/N rolled his eyes, shaking his head with disbelief. I raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Another round?"

"No way," he said immediately, making me laugh as I watched him walk away.

"Like you always do," I whispered to myself as I stood face to face with my next opponent. "Come on."

My opponent carried a sword and shield and was very good with both, as I'd seen him using it these past few days. Probably the first real challenge I had, I was a little nervous, but one look at my sword reminded me why I was here and what I was capable of. I wasn't going to let this man throw me off.

As we fought, I quickly realised he wasn't going to tire out easily. As quick as he was skilful, he dodged all of my slashes, blocked all of my stabs and avoided all of my feigned shots. He was too good, keeping me on my toes. I was growing tired as the minutes dragged on and he knew this, using it as his opportunity to slam his shield against me, knocking me back. I tuned out the audience's reactions, shaking my head to get back into it.

I let him believe he was going in for a strike before rolling out the way and slashing the back of his legs. He groaned as he spun around, blocking my next hit. This seemed to piss him off as he came at me quick and hard, striking every second and driving me further and further backwards. One sturdy hit with his shield and I was on my back. Just as he tried to strike me, I rolled out the way and stood up, putting some distance between us.

Collecting myself, I saw that he pulled his shield over him once more and knew I needed to use that to my advantage. He wasn't going to let it go, no matter how hard I hit it. And I was already growing tired, my body battered and bruised, my energy depleting. If he kept going like this, he'd surely win. And I couldn't let him.

A stupid idea came to my head and I figured it was worth a shot if I was already losing. Why not?

Running directly at my opponent, I watched as he tucked in, shield up and ready to block my hit. Just when he was about to shove it towards me, I used the momentum to jump on it, over his head and hitting the ground, just about. I was so shocked it worked that I almost forgot to use his own surprise to my advantage. Without wasting a second, I spun around and smacked the hilt of my sword at the back of his head, knocking him to the ground. Worried I'd hit him too hard, I kneeled down to listen in.

When he let out a breath, I sighed with relief and stood up, eyes closing for a moment. Then the stands shook as everyone stood up, cheering and yelling and clapping, and I opened my eyes with a smile. As I waved my sword hand in the air, bowing, the cheering only intensified and I couldn't stop grinning. Admittedly, the thrill of it all got to my head and I began to show off, waving to the crowd on all sides. Just because I could, I twiddled my sword on the tip of my gloved forefinger in the air and threw it up before catching it by the hilt. The crowd seemed to love it and a grin was permanently fixed on my face as I left the grounds to return to my tent.

"That's the loudest I've ever heard them," Y/B/N said as soon as he saw me. "What did you do?"

"Whatever I could," I said between a laugh, before pulling off my helmet. "Get me out of this, I'm so hot."

He chuckled and helped me out of it, and I helped him into it as usual. Giving him his sword and helmet, I sent him off before taking a deep breath and drinking lots of water. My body was aching and there were definitely bruises all along my legs and chest, but I didn't care because that was insane. How the hell did I manage that?! Whatever it was, it was incredible and I couldn't wait to do it again in my next fight.

Y/B/N returned after soaking in the glory, pulling off the armour and ready to help me pack it all away, but to both of our surprises, Prince Arthur walked in the tent.

"Hello," he greeted awkwardly, before looking to Y/B/N. "You fought excellently today. I wanted to ask if you'd have a word with me outside."

I hid my smile as my brother nodded, exchanging glances with me before following after the prince. Prince Arthur was impressed by me? No way. There was no way! I'd have to fight him soon enough, since he was also competing, but who cared? He was impressed!

I tried to contain my excitement as I went about packing away my armour, stuck in my own daydream land. So much, in fact, that I didn't hear anybody enter the tent behind me.

"It's you!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a familiar voice came out of nowhere. Spinning around, I was surprised to see the Lady Morgana standing there with a shocked smile on her face.

"Huh?"

She licked her lips, stepping fully inside the tent and glancing behind her, before looking to me. Lowering her voice, she said, "It's you. The fighting out there. It's not your brother, it's you."

When I finally managed to stop getting distracted by her pretty smile and listened to what she was saying, my own smile faded.

Swallowing hard, I played dumb. "What? That's crazy."

I tried to busy myself with packing my bag whilst also panicking inside, but she kept going with it.

"The sword trick at the end," she stated with confidence. "Where you twirl it on your finger. You did the same thing when you beat your brother yesterday. It's you, isn't?"

I closed my eyes, cursing myself at my stupidity. The damned sword trick. Why did I have to let my cockiness get the better of me?

"Maybe," I admitted, turning to face her, and she smiled to herself.

"I bloody knew it! Well– okay, maybe I didn't, but it makes sense," she said. "Your brother acts like a completely different person out on the grounds compared to when he's literally anywhere else. Because it's not him."

I stayed quiet, both embarrassed that I'd been caught out and nervous to what it meant for me.

"Wait," she realised, pausing, and I could practically see her brain working everything out. Green eyes met mine as she asked, "The flower. Blowing me the kiss. That was... that was you?"

If only the earth could swallow me up there and then.

"I was committing to the role...?" I said dumbly, making me her chuckle. Beginning to panic even more now, I said, "Look, if I'm in trouble, please don't punish Y/B/N. He didn't even want to do this, but I made him. It was the only way I could compete. I just wanted to see how far I could get."

She furrowed her brows, a confused smile on her face. "Y/N, you're not in trouble."

I blinked, taken aback. "I'm not in... huh?"

"I won't tell a soul," she promised, expression softening. "Keep doing what you're doing. You've single-handedly impressed every member of the court, all the knights, the prince and the King himself. You're amazing, Y/N."

At her words, I began to smile, feeling a sense of pride take over. "Why are you doing this?"

She shrugged, playing coy. "Maybe it's women sticking together. Maybe it's because I enjoy watching you fight. Or maybe I don't want to see you getting punished for being such a good fighter."

I sighed quietly, a sense of relief spreading through me. "Whatever it is, thank you, my lady. Truly."

"It's Morgana," she corrected, eyes flickering between mine.

I pursed my lips to stop my smile from widening, and then she stepped forward and kissed my cheek, making me freeze at the contact.

"And thank you for the flower," she whispered in my ear, before stepping back.

My mouth went dry as I watched her red lips curled into a smile before she left the tent. I was certain I was as red as her lipstick, my heart racing in my chest. A grin soon formed on my lips and I couldn't stop.

Moments later, Y/B/N returned and seemed surprised with his chat with Prince Arthur, but I was too distracted thinking about Morgana, my cheek still tingling from her touch.

"The prince wanted to personally congratulate me on my progress thus far," Y/B/N shared. "He hopes to see me make it to the finals so he can see what I'm all about up close."

His words went in one ear and out the other. Did Morgana always smell of jasmine, I wondered?

"Seriously? I thought you'd be dying to know more," Y/B/N said with suspicion.

"What?" I finally tuned back in, kind of. "Yeah, that's great, Y/B/N."

He studied me curiously. "I just saw the Lady Morgana leave here. What did she want?"

"Huh?" I asked, half listening.

"Y/N!" he said, startling me.

Finally, his words settled and I answered, "She just wanted to compliment how great you did today."

"How kind," he said, not believing me.

I couldn't tell him that she actually knew the truth – he'd get cold feet and back out of the competition, and then I'd never get to prove myself. Besides, Morgana said she wouldn't tell anyone, so we were still good to go. What Y/B/N didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Wait," I said, finally acknowledging what he said earlier. "What did Prince Arthur say about me?"

Y/B/N groaned dramatically and grabbed the bag of armour, ignoring me. I was forced to chase after him, doing his head in about everything the prince said.

#morgana x reader #morgana pendragon x reader #morgana pendragon #merlin #bbc merlin #merlin imagine #katie mcgrath

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stressed-and-queer · 8 months

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Hey, so here's a little story inspired by a prompt made by @aeagle624 (i really hope you like this)! I've never really done anything like this before and it was a fun challenge.

Prompt: A drunk Merlin finds himself in Arthur’s room, Arthur takes care of him. Merlin is very affectionate when drunk

The room was quiet, the only sound being Arthurs quill dragging across the paperwork that lay in front of him. Every so often Arthur would look out his window and see the empty streets of Camelot, well mostly empty. Maybe one or two people scurried past the town square. It was way too late for anyone to be wandering about, hence why it was so quiet. Also why Arthur decided that now would be the perfect time to catch up on his paperwork. Without the chattering of the townspeople down below, or the utter distraction that Merlin was for a number of reasons, Arthur could finally concentrate. Could finally focus on the important documents that he had yet to review, or that speech he was supposed to write.

“Unhand me,” came a drunken shout from outside his door. It came from a voice the king knew all too well. He could already feel the annoyance start to rise as he put his quill down, the ink staining his wooden desk. Well there goes the peace and quiet he had had.

There's a knock at the door, it wasn't loud at all, but Arthur still heard it. If he were asleep like he was supposed to be, he doubted he would have woken up from it. And that seemed to be the point, it was so obviously cautiously soft. Arthur stayed quiet for a moment, debating on if he wanted to speak up or just continue on with his paperwork. There's a laugh from the other side of the door, Merlin's laugh.

"Stop it will you or we'll skip Arthur's chambers and go straight to the cells to sober you up," came a growl. Arthur sighed to himself as he put his head in his hands. Then came another knock, this one a bit louder than before and cut off abruptly.

"Come in," Arthur said reluctantly, looking up at the door. He wasn't about to let Merlin spend the night in the cells, although it would probably do him a bit of good.The door creaked open, the light from the hallway seeping into his chambers. And there, in the doorframe, was a guard holding a very drunk Merlin. To be honest it looked like the knight was the only thing keeping Merlin from meeting the floor, with the way the servant was swaying.

"Arthur, tell this man to let me go," Merlin slurred, his accent a bit thicker in his drunken state. Arthur sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"How much trouble did he get in," Arthur reluctantly asked.

"None," Merlin chimed in. Arthur glared at him, regaining focus on the guard.

"He's actually telling the truth, sire, he hasn't gotten into trouble yet. But he was talking to one of the dog statues in front of the castle. I was going to take him to the cells to sober up but one of the guards said you'd have my head if I did that so I brought him here," the guard explained.

"He has his own chambers, you know," Arthur growled, glaring at the guard. The guard shifted uncomfortably, his grip on Merlin's arm tightening causing the man to let out a soft "ow".

"Sorry sire, I'll bring him there now" The guard apologized, bowing his head.

"Wait," Arthur said reluctantly, raising his hand.

"He's already here so why bother. Let him stay," Arthur said and the guard nodded. He let go of Merlin, who rubbed his arm where the guard had been holding him. As he stumbled into Arthur's chambers, the guard closing the door as soon as he could, Arthur sat back in his chair and took a better look at his manservant. His hair was a mess and his jacket was gone, leaving him in his blue tunic. He was wearing his red neckerchief at the moment, he had been wearing the blue one earlier in the day. Arthur chuckled at the thought of Merlin changing his neckerchief to go out to the tavern. The neckerchief was crooked, tilted a bit too far to the left.

Arthur got up and went over to Merlin as he saw him sway. As comical as it would be to see Merlin fall flat on his face, Arthur just wanted to get back to his work. The quickest way to do that was to help Merlin to his bed and to keep him away from any important documents that could possibly be ruined. Merlin smiled at him as Arthur grabbed his arm and draped it over his neck, wrapping his own arm around Merlin's torso as he led him over to his bed.

"What're you doing outta bed," Merlin asked as they stumbled, his hand gripping Arthurs side. He rested his head on Arthur’s shoulder, leaning into Arthur as they walked.

"What're you doing so drunk," Arthur retorted, Merlin sitting down on his bed, nearly sinking in.

"Gwaine, took me out to have some fun," Merlin smiled, resting his head on Arthur's pillows. Arthur rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath, because of course it had been Gwaine who had gotten him this drunk. He wasn't even surprised, the knight had an insatiable love for mead that Arthur just couldn't understand.

"Just how much did you two have to drink," Arthur asked, part of him afraid of the answer he may get. Merlin frowned as his brows furrowed in thought. He started to count on his fingers before shaking his head and counting on his fingers again.

"I don't know, I lost count after like…5," Merlin says, his voice raised in question. Arthur takes a deep breath, making a mental note to talk to Gwaine about taking his servant out to drink. He watches as Merlin hiccups, nearly falling backwards as he does. Arthur shakes his head, turning around and walking towards his desk to finish his paperwork. Arthur picks up his quill,using his shirt to clean up the ink that had spilled from the quill when he had set it down.

It doesn't take long before the sound of the quill scratching on paper fills the room. Arthur picking up where he had left off. There's the sounds of sheets rustling and Arthur only glances at his bed to see Merlin laying down. His head sinking into the pillows, one hand down by his side the other up near his head. His knee bent to the side and his head looking towards the window. The man doesn't look comfortable though, and the sounds of the sheets rustling once more as Merlin tosses his body in an attempt to get comfortable confirms that.

Arthur blocks out the noise easily enough, keeping his eyes focused on the paper in front of him. Currently he was working on a speech he was to give in about a week or so. The Kingdom of Camelot celebrating the new alliance they had made with a kingdom in the north. Usually this was Merlin's job but the servant hadn't the time to get around to it, so Arthur had to write the speech himself. He knew whatever he wrote would inevitably be rewritten by Merlin anyways, but just in case that didn't happen, he was prepared.

He was halfway through the second page of the speech when he noticed the rustling had stopped. He glanced at the bed, expecting to find Merlin out cold by now. To his surprise, Merlin was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him intently. Arthur blinked, the two sitting in a moment of silence.

"What," Arthur asked, setting his pen down in the ink pot. Merlin blinked, waiting a moment before shrugging. Arthur nodded his head slowly, not knowing what he expected from the drunken servant. He attempts to go back to his work only to find that he can feel Merlin's eyes on him. Feel his servant watching him so closely. Being a king, he was used to having eyes on him, watching his every move. It shouldn't bother him but this….somehow this was different. It made him want to squirm in his seat for some reason.

"Merlin, just lay down," Arthur says, and to his surprise, Merlin does just that. He falls backwards on the bed, his head hitting the pillow and his arms stretched out wide. And Arthur finds that with Merlin's eyes off of him, he can work again.

"The dog called me a bitch you know," Merlin says with a frown. Arthur's eyes widen from this seemingly random outburst. Until he remembers that the guard told him he was seen arguing with the stone dog statues outside the castle.

"Oh did it now," Arthur says, feigning interest in his voice. His eyes never leave the paper but he finds he's only half as focused on his work as he was before. The other half was curious as to what Merlin was going to respond with.

"Yeah. Called me other mean things too! I was about to show him," Merlin says with a huff.

"Oh I bet you were," Arthur says, playing along. He's glad the guard got him when he did, he didn't want to see what a fight between a drunk Merlin and a stone dog would lead to. No matter how entertaining the idea seemed.

"Was about to punch him," Merlin continues. Arthur looks up from his papers, side eyeing Merlin in disbelief.

"You would punch a dog," he asks.

"It was being mean to me," Merlin says in a whine. There's a pout on his face as he sits up and crosses his arms.

"Uh huh," Arthur says slowly, reminding himself this is a stone dog they were talking about. He shakes his head, wondering just what he’s gotten himself into allowing a drunk Merlin to stay in his room. Arthur gives up on writing this speech, finally admitting to himself that he was going to get nowhere with Merlin around. He turns in his chair so he was facing Merlin, who was still laying down in his bed.

“C,mon Merlin, let’s get you comfortable,” Arthur says, standing up and walking over to his closet. Merlin, literally, rolls out of bed, Arthur turning around with a start as he hears a thump to see Merlin laying on the floor.

“Merlin,” Arthur says, the concern leaking from his voice. Merlin looks up at him with a lopsided smile and lets out a chuckle.

“I’m fine!” He says. Arthur helps him up, muttering under his breath as he wraps Merlin's arm around his neck to give him stability. Sober Merlin was clumsy enough, Arthur dreaded to see drunk Merlin try and walk on his own. Merlin leans his head on Arthurs shoulder, leaning into him as the two make their way to Arthurs closet.The king opens his closet, grabbing his white shirt off the rack and closing the door.

It’s now that Arthur realizes that Merlin is refusing to let go of Arthur. His hand grabbing at Arthurs side as if they were trying to do some weird side hug. His fingers gripping the shirt tight, Merlin making a whine in protest as Arthur tries to get him off.

“Merlin, you do realize you’re going to have to let go so I can dress you,” Arthur says.

“I don’t want to let go,” Merlin whines, burying his face in Arthur’s neck. The king finds the heat rising to his cheeks at this action. Merlin has never been this affectionate with him before, and Arthur finds he isn’t completely opposed to it. His heart skipping a beat as Merlin nuzzles his neck, he can feel Merlin's breath on his skin, making goosebumps pop up on his neck. His blush only deepening as he realizes certain feelings rising to the surface. He shakes his head, pushing those feelings down as he pries Merlins fingers off of him, successfully removing Merlins grip from him. Merlin pouts as he stumbles backwards, his arms crossed in protest.

Arthur reaches his hands to the back of Merlins neck so he can untie his neckerchief. Merlin's eyes widen, a soft blush filling his cheeks as he bites his lips. Arthur notices his eyes glancing downwards, lingering before his eyes reach Arthurs. He smiles, a giggle escaping him.

“What’s so funny,” Arthur asks, finally getting the knot undone.

“I was just thinking about what it would be like to kiss you,” Merlin replies, wrapping his arms around Arthur and pulling him in for a hug. Arthur can feel Merlin rest his face in his chest and he finds himself frozen in his place. His hands gripping Merlin's neckerchief in his fingers, his face heating up as his mind races with what Merlin just said.

“I bet your lips are soft,” Merlin continues.His hand moves upwards, his thumb grazing Arthurs lips. Arthur's eyes widen, a blush spreading on his cheeks from the intimate touch. Those feelings he had just pushed down threatening to come back up to the surface.

“Merlin,” Arthur begins, not knowing what else to say. Merlin hums in response, looking up at Arthur with a smile. Arthur clears his throat, looking away from Merlin for a moment.

“Lift your arms, I'm going to change you into something more comfortable,” He says, peeling Merlin off of him. Merlin stumbles backwards, lifting his arms up as Arthur grabs the bottom of his tunic, lifting it up and over his head.He tosses it on the bed, sliding the white shirt over his head and helping his arms get into the sleeves. Arthur takes a step back, the shirt fits loosely on Merlin,the sleeves went just past his fingertips. But, Merlin looked comfortable and that’s all that mattered to Arthur right now.

“There. I’ll go tell one of the guards to get a glass of water so your headache isn’t so bad in the morning,” Arthur says, going to his door, he's speaking to the guard when he feels arms snake around his torso from behind and a head resting on his shoulder. The guard looks from him to Merlin.

“He’s drunk,” Arthur says as an explanation.

“I see,” the guard says, slowly nodding his head. Arthur closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“If you tell anyone about this,” Arthur begins, a threat in his voice.

“Your secret’s safe with me sire,” The guard says and Arthur can hear the slight amusement in his voice.

“Just…go get me that water will you,” Arthur says with a groan.

“Of course, sire,” the guard says with a bow. Arthur closes the door, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Arthur, I wanna lay down,” Merlin says.

“Then go lay down,” Arthur replies.

“I don’t want to lay down without you,” Merlin whines. His grip on Arthur tightens as he hides his face in Arthur’s back. Arthur lets out a big sigh and looks down to the ground.

“Merlin,” He says with a bit of force in his voice.

“Please,” is all Merlin says. It’s short and just barely a whisper but the word reaches Arthur’s ears and he knows he’s lost.

“Alright,” He says softly. Merlin smiles as he lets out a soft “thank you” which causes Arthur to smile. He lets go of Arthur, making his way to the bed and laying down in it. Arthur follows him, feeling the familiar softness of his sheets as he lays down. He hasn’t noticed how tired he was until now, His eyes growing heavy as Merlin wraps his arms around Arthur, pulling him close. Arthur doesn’t even think about it, he wraps his arms around Merlin and rests his head on top of the others. He’ll blame that on being tired in the morning. What his mind will be focused on is the soft kiss he laid on the top of Merlin's head, how it felt to have him in his arms and how it made him smile.

“Arthur,” Merlin mutters just as Arthur is about to fall asleep.

“Yes Merlin,” Arthur hums.

“I don’t know if it's the alcohol or not, but I think I may have feelings for you,” Merlin says and it’s as if the world stops. Arthur doesn’t know how to process those words that echo in his mind. He opens his mouth to speak but finds that no words come out. He lets go of Merlin and sits up, Merlin looks at him confused.

“Have I said something wrong,” He asks, leaning up on his arm.

“No Merlin, it’s just,” Arthur begins before pausing.

“We’ll discuss it in the morning,” Arthur decides.

“When you’re sober,” He adds. Before anything else can be spoken there’s a knock on the door.

That must be the water Arthur thinks to himself as he gets out of bed. Merlin reaches for him as he gets up.

“Don’t worry Merlin, I’ll be right back,” Arthur says, going to the door and opening it up. Sure enough, there’s the guard with a glass of water in his hands. Arthur takes the glass of water and nods his head in thanks, closing the door. He turns around to see Merlin already sitting up in bed.

“Here, drink this,” Arthur says, handing the drink to Merlin. He keeps his hand on the glass, making sure Merlin doesn’t drop it, but also to make sure he doesn’t drink it too fast.

“There, now your head won’t hurt as bad in the morning,” Arthur says when Merlin is finished. He sets the glass on the table next to his bed, glancing over at Merlin just in time to see him yawn. He climbs back in bed, Merlin already reaching for him. Soon, they’re back in eachothers arms without even a second thought from Arthur. Arthur can’t help but think about how much he likes this, laying down for bed with Merlin in his arms. It’s confusing really, the feeling it invokes has Arthur rethinking about every interaction with Merlin he’s ever had, including the time he tried to take his head off with a mace.This newfound feeling has him viewing those memories in a different light, trying to pinpoint exactly when the feeling first started. He looks down at Merlin who’s fallen asleep in his arms, his mouth parted and his breathing even. He takes a deep breath, wondering how one man can cause him so much confusion. Part of him even wonders if allowing Merlin to stay with him was a bad idea. If he had allowed the guard to take Merlin back to his chambers like he had suggested, none of this would be happening. There would have been no drunken love confession that made him question everything.

But it did and there was.

And Arthur could deal with it in the morning. For right now, as he held Merlin in his arms just a bit tighter than before, he allowed himself to close his eyes and fall asleep.

#merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur #bbc merlin #fanfic #merlin x arthur #gwaine

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myths0f01d · 5 months

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On occasions Arthur would go out hunting. Though that is what he told Uther. He'd take Merlin and a few close guards, such as Leon, and ride out to a forest far and over the land. They would settle and Leon would nod at the two as they left separate to the party. The knights would hunt and those who wished not to, would go with Merlin and Arthur to a far village that did not know what the prince of Camelot looked like. So as the nights reigned on, Merlin and Arthur would drink their fill, gambling and placing bets and having a merry time. On rare occasions Merlin would be brave enough to take Arthur's hand, as it was common amongst far villages for men to be in love, and he would pull Arthur to the floor as they danced with others. Merlin dorned a large wondrous smile while other wore eyes of a love struck fool, a smile to match that of Merlin's. And they would dance. They would have fleeting touches as their breath grew tiresome from the laughter and their feet grew sore. And when all was well and done they would retire to a room upstairs. The candle light flickering softly to illuminate each feature on their faces. Arthur would trace a finger gently down Merlins face and Merlin would place soft kisses on Arthur's hand and knuckles. A sign of devotion and utter love each held for the others. These moments were rare. They happened few. They did not dare to do more for fear of Uther finding out. And so on these rare trips to outer lying villages as common with a man to another, the people would look away as they felt they were breaching an intimate and private moment amongst the two as they looked in eachothers eyes. With their secret touches when garnered. And so as the night went out and dawn rose so did they. Merlin and Arthur and any knight that joined them would head out back into the forest to meet with the hunting party, what they caught was their proof. And as Merlin and Arthur mounted their horses they pretended. The pretended to not hold such love for the other. Pretended their touch was little more then that of need and they pretended to be surface level friends as they bantered, such as what was appropriate for a servant and a prince. Though as they rode at the front back to Camelot, the knights looked on, they look with sorrow in their eyes knowing the two could be nothing more until Uther was well and away, no longer on the throne. And on those ever rare occasions when Merlin and Arthur were alone, Merlins eyes would light up with gold, Arthur's breath hitching as molten butterflies of many gold and sparkling colours the likes of jewels would flout around them, one landing on his very nose. They would dissappear in puffs and slow sparkles like the drizzling rain, Merlin would bless him with a kiss on the nose and nothing more would happen. This went on for many years, trips to outer lying villages. Forest for hunting and tavern nights lit my the stars and candle light, when laughter was a comforting sound and the people were welcoming of them. On those nights they both cherished.

And as the years went on and Uther passed and Arthur became king did he finally allow himself to court Merlin properly, in the light of day amongst many people, no longer holding fear and secret. Magic was returned to the land and they built Albion together from top to bottom as years passed. Druids were welcomed back to the citidale and any practice of magic was legalized. Though that of ill will and intent would swiftly find themselves at the feet of Emrys.

And as the bells rang day end and night out it signaled the final union of the two. Arthur taking Merlin as his husband. The kings consort. To rule by his side for ever and always.

And as the people looked upon them with peace and true happiness in a longer time then any would rather admit, they saw, they saw how in love the two were. Irrevocable and unconditional soul bound, so in love.

People would strive to find a love like the king and his magical consort. None ever coming close but always finding their happiness in the end.

And as the ages went by and Arthur retired the throne, he and Merlin went off to a land over on the other side of the forest, built a cottage and become farmers, a simple and truly happy life Arthur always wanted with Merlin. Their friends knew where to find them and if Canelot should ever raise her calls of need they would head her and help.

And that is how they spent out the rest of their days.

In flowered meadows and trickling streams, on grassy hills and sunny trees, on a breeze so light and warm and the air filled with honey and all things of comfort.

That's how Arthur and Merlin spent it with one another. No longer with secret touches or fluttering gazes. But instead with prolonged touches and eyes staring for hours in the simple being of each other.

They loved wholly and truly.

And that's how they ended.

In love and at peace.

#bbc merlin #merthur #arthur pendragon #emrys #knights of the round table #merlin emrys #fanfic #merlin fic ideas #ao3fic #merlin x arthur #merlin and arthur #stolen touches and glances #men so irrevocably in love with the other #merlin

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 9 days

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The Question of Debt

Hi! I've read a few Merlin fics recently where Arthur finds out that Merlin hasn't been paid what he should, if at all, 'cause no-one ever trained him or told him anything about his job. I'd love to see your take on this if you want to write it? With lots of Merlin & knights friendship too. Thank yooou <3 – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: merthur

Word Count: 4232

Look, alright, Arthur does try to give Merlin the benefit of the doubt, but when he walks into his room to see him immediately stand up straight, hide something behind his back, and that something is jingling, what exactly is he supposed to do? Well, if Merlin is to be believed, state his business and leave Merlin to his. But when a pouch of coin leads to a confrontation that reaches far beyond their normal spats, Arthur starts to uncover something very troubling about Merlin's time in Camelot.

Well, if Merlin is to be believed, state his business and leave Merlin to his.

”Oh, and you’re King of Camelot now?”

“No.”

“Then what makes you think you can give me orders?”

”That wasn’t an order. It was a suggestion. One you asked for, by the way.”

“Merlin.”

Merlin just grins that stupid little grin that makes the tips of his ears stick out a bit more and Arthur is not being distracted by it, thank you very much. “Did you need something?”

“You’re late. Am I supposed to dress myself?”

”You’d be amazed what most young children are capable of, sire, most of them can actually dress themselves by the time they’re four or five.”

“Merlin!”

“Look, I’m just saying that it’s not a bother if we need to go over it again—“

Arthur picks up a pillow and smacks Merlin on the arm, which makes him laugh, yes, but more importantly it makes him let go of the coin purse he’s holding behind his back. It hits the floor with a clunk. They both look at it. Merlin scrabbles over the bed but Arthur’s faster and snatches it up.

“Hey! Give that back!”

He fends Merlin off with one hand, peeking inside. It’s hardly anything, really. “What is this, your tavern fund?”

“Give it back.”

”Is there something you’re saving up for? A pretty new tunic, perhaps, or one of those reck scarves you’re always wearing?”

“Arthur—“

“Or is this what you’re doing with—“

Whatever he was going to say is knocked out of him when Merlin slams into his side, hard enough to send him stumbling into the wall. His mouth opens in a wordless yell, righting himself and preparing to chew Merlin out because that could’ve hurt, you idiot, what were you thinking—

—and stops when he sees Merlin glaring at him.

Not the play-scowling they do when they’re bantering back and forth, but actually glowering at him like he’s made him angry. It’s enough to throw him off long enough for Merlin to shove the pouch into his pocket and storm past him, mumbling something about how they’re late for things already. He’s left there, staring at the painfully thin mattress with the moth-eaten blankets.

That was…strange.

He gives himself a shake. Merlin got like that about things sometimes, it’s probably not anything to worry about.

***

It’s definitely something to worry about.

Merlin’s never so much as breathed a word about what happened in his room that morning, which is concerning in and of itself. Merlin never hesitates to throw their previous arguments back in Arthur’s face if he thinks it’s deserved—and Arthur will be gracious and humble enough to say it is, most of the time—but he won’t even mention it. He doesn’t bring it up even if Arthur gives him the opportunity, he won’t even acknowledge what happened. And every time Arthur tries to talk about coin, or Merlin’s family, or anything that could be even remotely related, Merlin clams up faster than Gwaine when they say there’s no more ale left.

So, Arthur does what any concerned King would do, and snoops.

Gaius won’t say a word about it, and not in the way he normally does where he says he doesn’t know anything but secretly does. No, instead Gaius gets oddly stern with him. At least, as stern as he ever outwardly gets when he’s talking to Arthur. It’s that strange disappointed-not-quite-angry voice that just makes Arthur feel like he’s a boy again. He tries to sneak in there once when Merlin and Gaius are out collecting pots and nearly gets caught by a patrolling guard and decides that no, he won’t be doing that again.

It has nothing to do with the fact that Merlin and Gaius came back to a cauldron with some sort of potion in it spilled all across the floor. Absolutely not.

Then he goes to ask Gwen. Gwen and Merlin talk about things. Maybe Merlin has talked to Gwen about…whatever that pouch was. But Gwen looks at him with a frown and says that she doesn’t know.

“I’ve never seen him with a pouch like that before. Are you sure it was his? Not someone else’s?”

“He nearly tackled me into the wall over it, that doesn’t sound like something he’d do if it wasn’t his.”

Gwen snorts. “He what?”

“Didn’t work, obviously, he’s not strong enough.”

“Of course not, My King.”

Still, he can hear her snickering as he turns to go.

As a last resort, he turns to the knights.

“I don’t know what that could be,” Elyan says as they take care of their armor after a long day of training, “it’s not like Merlin’s known for hoarding great treasures, he’s not a dragon.”

“Maybe it’s just something of his he wants to keep secret?” Lancelot hangs the training sword back on the wall. “We can hardly begrudge a man his privacy.”

“It was just a small amount of coin. Barely more than a month’s pay.”

“Perhaps he’s sending it to his mother?”

‘“I’ve asked if it’s that, he didn’t answer.”

“Maybe he’s saving it.” They all turn to look at Gwaine. “What?”

”He’s been working here for years, and he’s saved not even a month’s pay?”

“Well, if he’s spending his days in the tavern,” Arthur grumbles and Gwaine laughs. “Are you the one encouraging him then?”

Gwaine laughs again, like Arthur’s made a joke, but when he sees Arthur’s expression, his face falls.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

If Gwaine is hiding something, then this is far bigger than Arthur thought.

He does not follow Gwaine that night, because he is a King and kings do not spy on their knights, but if he happens to be outside Gaius’s chambers that evening when Gwaine and Merlin are also there, then that’s just a coincidence. A very lucky coincidence.

“Arthur told us something after training, you know,” he hears Gwaine say through the cracked door.

A thunk as Merlin sets down something heavy. “What, that he needs his armor polished until you can all see his face in it?”

“That he found you in your room with a pouch of coin.”

The room goes so silent that Arthur starts to fret they’ve vanished into thin air. He holds his breath.

“That’s all he said?”

He winces at how cold Merlin sounds.

“That and he thought you were spending all your money at the tavern.” Merlin laughs at that. It’s a humorless thing. “He doesn’t know, then?”

Know what?

”No,” Merlin says lowly, “he doesn’t. Did you—“

“No one told him,” Gwaine says firmly and Arthur moves as close to the door as he dares, “he thinks I’m the one dragging you there every day.”

Merlin’s sigh of relief is palpable. “Good. That’s alright, then.”

There’s another moment of silence. Then Gwaine shifts and his mail rasps against the table.

“Was it to send to your mother, then? That coin?”

Merlin huffs. “No. That’s all I’ve got.”

“All you’ve got? But Arthur said it was less than a month’s pay, how—“

“A month? What, for him, maybe. That’s all I’ve ever gotten.”

Arthur blinks. And blinks. And blinks again. That can’t be right.

Gwaine seems to agree. “You—aren’t you being paid more because you’re Princess’s manservant?”

“News to me if that’s true.”

Arthur’s heard enough. He moves quickly and quietly back through the halls, sitting down at his desk and folding his hands. The candle snaps and crackles as he stares unseeing into the shadows of his room.

Two things. First, Merlin is not being paid what he should be, clearly. He needs to go and have a word with the steward, find out exactly what Merlin is being paid, how often, and how much he is owed in lost wages.

Second, Merlin is hiding something. Something that at least Gwaine knows, if not the rest of the knights. And it has something to do with the fact that Merlin is not, in fact, at the tavern nearly as much as Arthur thinks he is, if at all.

Sleep comes fitfully that night.

***

”If you glare at that parchment anymore, sire, you’re liable to burn a hole through it.”

Arthur doesn’t care. He’ll set fire to this whole office if he damn well pleases. Especially this rude, blasphemous, audacious piece of paper.

“How did this happen,” he snarls with enough venom to make the steward and even Leon shuffle, “did we not increase all servants to a minimum payment after my coronation?”

“We did, sire.”

“Then explain this.”

“Merlin was not chosen by you initially,” the steward says, voice remarkably even as Arthur glares at him, “he was appointed by your late father.”

“So?”

“So,” Leon continues, “the King’s appointments exist outside the normal agreements for servants. They have their own terms and conditions, including modified pay rates.”

”Show me.”

The steward gets up and goes to a chest of drawers, opening one and rifling through it. He produces a single sheaf of paper and carries it back over to the desk, adjusting his glasses.

“Here, sire, if you would?”

Arthur does not snatch it, because he is a King and kings do not snatch, and the paper was certainly already torn when it found its way into his grip.

Not for the first time, he wishes his father were somewhere he could talk to him, so he could shout about the man’s hypocrisy for serving the people when he would give them a barely-livable wage and call it fair.

“What is a King’s manservant supposed to be paid?” The steward slides another sheet of paper towards him. “Good. Change it to that right now.”

“Right away, sire.”

“And give him what he should’ve been paid before.”

“How much?”

“As much as he’s owed,” Arthur growls.

“We would only be able to excuse that if we went back as far as your coronation, which would be—“

”Fine, fine. Whatever makes it so you give the man what he’s owed.”

The steward looks far too pleased to carry out the order, which just gives Arthur more motivation to shout at Uther, but he pushes that down because he is a King, now, and kings do not scream at people who do not deserve it, if they scream at all.

“Will there be anything else, sire?”

“Not at this time. Thank you.”

”My pleasure, sire, as always.”

Arthur nods and turns to leave, striding down the hall with Leon at his side. The man is as inscrutable as always, not offering any condemnation or encouragement as Arthur mutters to himself.

“Didn’t so much as say anything, idiot, barely a livable wage for someone in the poorest part of the city, honestly…”

Leon doesn’t say a word until they reach Arthur’s chambers. “If I might?”

“Please, old friend, come in.” Arthur all but collapses into a chair and buries his face in his hands. “I don’t—why didn’t he tell me?”

”Merlin is a private person. It’s likely he preferred not to discuss such things, especially with you.”

Arthur peeks out between his fingers. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Aside from the fact that you’re his employer, the two of you don’t exactly have the…typical relationship between a king and his servant.”

Arthur huffs. “Which is why I thought he’d tell me.”

“Perhaps.”

“I know that tone of voice, or perhaps what?”

“Or perhaps Merlin didn’t know that something was amiss.”

Now Arthur does sit up, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“As the steward said: you did not choose Merlin upon his original appointment. He saved your life and the then King had him assigned to you. He was not trained to be a servant, much less the Crown Prince’s manservant. I seem to remember many complaints when he was first starting?”

“But that’s—but he did get training.”

“Only after he began working for you, and only from other servants who were not experienced with being your servant. The exception to this would be Gwen, but—“

“But I’m not Morgana.”

“Quite.”

Arthur slumps against the back of his chair. The worst part is that it makes a disturbing amount of sense: Merlin fought against him on how he was treated, how Arthur treated most servants, but not about the coin. Because he knew that people deserved to be treated better than that, but he didn’t know anything about how servants were supposed to be paid. And how could he? He wasn’t a servant—he came from a relatively poor village, how could he know? And so when he was asked by the steward originally—and probably with Uther ushering the process along as quickly as possible, he hadn’t known that he could ask for a better wage.

“Damn,” he mutters. Leon hums. “Damn.”

“You have a council meeting in a few hours, sire. The new allocation of funds is likely to be discussed.”

“Wonderful.” Leon chuckles at his tone. “Will you be there?”

“Of course, sire.”

As he goes, Arthur moves to his desk and starts writing out some of the formalities that the steward will need to add to the record. It’s mindless enough work that he starts to wonder about that other half of things. His gaze finds the door where Leon had just vanished.

Did Leon know?

It was almost a certainty. If there was one person Arthur could rely on to know almost everything that happened in Camelot, it was Leon. Something about the man’s quiet nature made him the ideal confidant, not just for the upper echelons but the lower as well. He swears Leon could put together a list of everything he had ever been told in confidence and it would run the length of the city.

So Leon knew, most likely. And with that came the conclusion that Arthur would never, ever be able to get it out of him.

Gwaine was probably the easier bet, but Gwaine isn’t about to come to this council meeting.

With that in mind, he quickly finishes the paperwork and sets it aside before Merlin comes sweeping in to make sure he’s ready. They manage to get there early, for once, and take their places before the rest of the lords come in to talk about whatever it is the lords believe is worth discussing.

“And as the last thing,” the steward says as the meeting winds to a close, “is the budget allocation for this next period.”

“I expect everything is the same?”

“With the exception of the compensation fund we discussed earlier, yes, sire, all the same.”

Arthur nods and moves to close the meeting when one of the lords speaks up.

“Pardon the interruption, sire, but…what compensation fund?”

“It has come to my attention that someone in the castle has not been paid what they are due, and so we are compensating them for their lost wages.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Merlin look at him.

“But surely that is not a sum worthy of factoring into the crown’s budget, so…” The lord trails off as he catches sight of said sum over the steward’s shoulder. He stands up with a horrid screech. “Have you gone mad?”

“Your tongue, my lord,” Leon says lowly, stepping forward, “you will address your king with respect.”

“I’ll address him with respect when he’s not spending a mountain of coin on a single person!” The lord tries to snatch the paper but the steward holds firm. “What is the meaning of this?”

“They were not paid the proper amount for several years,” Arthur says calmly, “we are rectifying this.”

“But this—this—this would put the crown in debt!”

“And any proceedings from a legal standpoint would as well. Or would you rather the crown be taken to a formal trial and then forced to pay owed wages?”

Leon steps up to contain the lord’s fury, but Arthur couldn’t care less. Not when Merlin is looking at him with his mouth open and something suspiciously shiny about his eyes.

He risks only a glance at him before he stands and brings the meeting to a close.

***

”That was good of you,” Gwaine says, quiet enough that it’s hidden under the clang and clash of swords on the training field, “making up his pay like that.”

“It’s what he’s owed.”

”Still.” He wipes his blade with a rag. “Never seen a King stick his neck out like that for a servant.”

“It’s Merlin.”

“That it is.” Their shoulders bump. “Still. Good one, mate.”

Arthur just nods. Merlin is across the field, tending to a table of armor that needs to be repaired. He sees Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival each go up to him in turn, talking to him or ruffling his hair. Even Leon glances over from where he’s supervising a group of younger knights and gifts him with a softer smile.

“He looks happier.”

“He does,” Gwaine agrees, stretching out next to him, “he’s sleeping better too.”

Arthur whips around. “How would you know how he’s sleeping?”

“Whoa, easy, Princess,” Gwaine laughs, “not like that. He’s finally bought himself a proper mattress, that’s all. Heard him talking about it with Gaius this morning.”

“Oh.”

Gwaine chuckles. “Don’t worry, none of us would dare.”

“You’d better not.”

“Oh, I like myself intact, thank you very much.” He sniffs. “Not that you’d actually manage to do that much damage.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Gwaine shoves him lightly and they both laugh. It trails off and they go back to watching the men train. At least, ostensibly they’re watching the men train. Really they’re both watching Merlin.

”I wish he’d told me,” Arthur says, almost too quiet to hear. He knows Gwaine does by the way he hums.

They look at each other. Arthur searches his expression for a long moment. Gwaine’s eyebrow twitches.

Tell me, he pleads silently, please, tell me.

Gwaine doesn’t say a word.

With a sigh, Arthur looks back at Merlin. Their eyes meet across the field. Merlin’s brow twitches in a silent you alright? Arthur nods. Merlin grins.

With a grunt, he heaves himself to his feet, readying his sword to go and relieve Percival from his bout with Lancelot, when Gwaine catches his arm.

“Arthur.”

“Yes?”

“Next time you and Merlin go on a hunt, don’t kill anything.”

He frowns, a thousand questions building up on the tip of his tongue, but he nods. Gwaine nods back and loudly goes to make a nuisance of himself.

“Sire,” Elyan says as he approaches, “is everything alright?”

“Fine, fine. Shall we?”

“Ready when you are.”

***

“I still don’t understand why you insist on these hunts,” Merlin grumbles as he shoves something else into a pack, “it’s not like we don’t have food in the castle.”

“Maybe it’s not about the food, Merlin.”

“Oh, so you just want to go kill something. Should’ve guessed.”

He cuffs him lightly upside the head. “Just get the horses ready.”

Merlin grumbles something unflattering about Arthur’s resemblance to his horse as he goes. Gwaine’s words turn over and over in his mind as he packs up the crossbow. He truly isn’t planning on killing anything, but the woods aren’t exactly free of dangers. At the very least, if there are bandits that decide to attack them.

Merlin can say all he wants about not enjoying hunts, but he can’t hide the way his shoulders slump when they leave the walls of the city. He has that terribly earnest and whimsical look on his face as they make it into the woods, the breeze ruffling his hair and the birds calling out from the trees. Arthur has to remind himself to look where his horse is going and not just stare at Merlin the entire time, but Merlin’s not exactly looking at him either, so he can get away with it.

He may have claimed this was a hunt, but Merlin hasn’t seemed to notice that they’re not hunting anything. They pass more than a few obvious deer tracks that Arthur completely ignores and any smaller game like rabbit scatter well before Arthur could so much as reach for the crossbow. Instead, Merlin is in a little world of his own, marveling at the forest like it’s the most splendid thing he’s ever seen.

Arthur supposes he can’t talk, that’s how he’s looking at Merlin.

Eventually, he calls for a break near the river. Merlin just hums and gets off the horse, taking the bit from its mouth so it can graze, and loosening the saddle’s girth. Arthur sets the pack on the ground and rifles through it for their water skins.

“I’m going to fill these up, set up the rest of camp.”

“But we haven’t caught anything yet.”

“No harm in taking a rest, is there? Though if you want to keep going—“

“No, no, rest is good.”

Arthur chuckles as he heads off through the trees, listening to Merlin bustle about behind him. He manages to get down to the river in a few short minutes, holding the water skins under a small waterfall to fill them.

”Hey,” he mutters to himself, “so I’m glad we sorted out the thing with your pay, but now apparently there’s something else I don’t know about. What is it?”

Yeah, like that would work.

“The knights know something about you and I’m worried it’s similar. What is it?”

Also not likely to work.

“I’m worried about you and also quite hopelessly in love. Help.” He scoffs at himself. “I’d have better luck telling my father I want to court a servant.”

He mutters half a dozen more to himself, each worse than the last, before he realizes the sun is going down and he’s been ‘getting water’ for far too long. He drags his feet through the brush as he goes back, still muttering, when he hears something from the direction of their camp. Instinctively, he crouches and reaches for the dagger on his hip.

He peers around a tree and—

Oh.

Oh, no.

Merlin is sitting in the middle of camp with golden tendrils of magic—it must be magic, it couldn’t possibly be anything else—creating a suspended web of leaves and flowers in a sphere around himself. Butterflies flit around him like he’s some forest nymph. His fingers move and twirl through the air and it responds to him like a living thing. Arthur is speechless.

Merlin has magic.

Merlin had magic.

And it’s beautiful and incredible and so very Merlin and Arthur is done for.

Just as he’s coming to the conclusion of how irrevocably bollocked he is, Merlin turns and sees him.

The yelp he makes is heartbreaking and all the things crash down around him as he scrabbles away. But he goes too fast and ends up flat on his back, staring at Arthur with his eyes so wide he can see the whites all the way around. Arthur quickly decides that this is unacceptable and Merlin is never allowed to be scared like this, and so he raises his hands in a gesture of surrender.

Merlin doesn’t move.

Slowly, so slowly, Arthur starts to make his way across the clearing. Merlin flinches and bites his lip to stifle his whimpers whenever Arthur accidentally snaps a twig or crushes a leaf. It takes an age and Arthur’s shoulders ache by the time he makes it, but then he’s standing over Merlin and he reaches out a hand.

Merlin takes it. He can feel it tremble.

Carefully, he pulls Merlin to his feet. The poor thing still looks so scared and Arthur wracks his brain for something, anything he could say to make this better, let Merlin know he would never, that it’s all going to be alright…

But he’s never been particularly good with words.

Actions, on the other hand…

Telegraphing his movements so Merlin can stop him, he cups the side of Merlin’s face, feeling his jaw tremble. With a courage he does not feel, he leans in.

Merlin makes a surprised noise when he kisses him, but slowly, slowly, he kisses back.

Camelot could go to war, bandits could ambush them, Uther himself could stride into the clearing and Arthur would tell him to wait.

They break apart but dare not separate, still breathing the same air. Arthur swallows heavily and pulls Merlin closer.

“I’m going to legalize magic.”

Merlin’s breath stutters against his cheek. “You’re—you what?”

“I’m going to legalize magic.”

“So…you’re not going to kill me?”

“No. Never.” He tangles his fingers in Merlin’s hair. “I would sooner throw myself on the sword.”

Merlin huffs a strangled laugh. “Will you kiss me again?”

Arthur doesn’t hesitate.

Gwaine is never going to let him live this down. But he’s the King, so it doesn’t matter.

#bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin #dragonbabbles #fic

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