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lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years

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Thinking of You - Fred Weasley

Title: Thinking of You Pairing: Fred x fem!reader Summary: Fred and the reader are best friends. No matter what George thinks he knows. Just best friends. Best friends who are in love, that is. A/N: this is for the anon who wanted a best friends who are obviously in love with each other!! Reader is the daughter of Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon, I tried to make it obvious but there it is in case it isn’t clear!! Feedback is always welcomed and requests are open!

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“So, any fun plans for this summer?” Lee asks, trying to break the tension in the air.

Y/N shrugs, pulling her eyes from the landscape swirling outside the train so she can look at the three boys sitting with her. Train rides home for the summer with Lee, Fred and George are easily some of the best memories they’ve made together. They’re usually filled with loud laughter, too much chocolate and plans for their next year of pranks. They’ve been the fearsome foursome since the first day of term nearly six years ago, when Y/N had called Snape Snivellous under her breath, and Fred had laughed so loud he landed himself in detention. Fred had insisted she sit with him, George and Lee at dinner that night and the four of them have been pulling pranks and causing chaos together ever since.

But this year, this year is different. Over the past few years they’ve become accustomed to their school year ending in a less than traditional way, but it’s never stopped them from having fun together one last time as they head towards home. This year though, the last few weeks have been so tense and sad around the castle that it has carried over into their moods. Y/N has never seen Fred and George so quiet, except for the time Fred fell asleep with his head in her lap in the common room third year.

“Come on, Y/N. You’ve got to have something exciting going on. You and Remus always have summer plans,” Fred teases, nudging her knee with his.

Y/N scowls at Fred, trying to hide her smile. Her home life was certainly less than traditional, and Y/N’s friends loved to tease her about it. They didn’t tease her about the fact that she had been raised by her Godfather, but more so about the fact that she had been raised by Remus Lupin, their former professor. When Remus took up a teaching position at Hogwarts during their 5th year, Y/N had no choice but to reveal to her friends just exactly why their new professor knew her so well. They had all thought it was pretty cool, but unfortunately for Y/N it raised more questions about her home life than it had answered.

She rolls her eyes, shoving Fred lightly. “We went on a road trip one summer and you’re still giving me shit about it? Pathetic,” she teases with a giggle. Fred throws his arm around her shoulder and messes with her hair. “If Remus,” she mocks, sticking her tongue out at Fred as she leans into his side. “Has planned anything then he hasn’t said anything.”

Y/N swallows thickly, trying to force the lump in her throat away. She hates lying to her friends, but she’s on strict orders from Dumbledore not to say anything. Now that Voldemort has returned secret plans have been made, the biggest of them being the reformation of the Order of the Phoenix. Remus had moved into Order headquarters a few days before the end of term, and she’d be joining him there for the summer.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever you say,” Fred chides before he turns his attention to Lee.

Y/N lets herself snuggle into Fred’s side, a small smile appearing on her face when his grip around her tightens. George gives her a knowing look, and she sticks her tongue out at him, a pink blush creeping up on her cheeks. Despite whatever George thinks is going on with her and Fred, Fred Weasley is her best friend and absolutely nothing more.

“Dad!” Y/N squeals excitedly before she’s running down the entry hall of 12 Grimmauld Place and into her father’s open arms.

Sirius chuckles and wraps his arms around his daughter tightly. “Hello there little one. I’ve missed you.”

Y/N pulls away from her dad, a bright smile on her face, unable to contain her happiness. She’d been dreaming of the day that she’d get to live with Sirius and be a proper family since the end of last year, when the truth about James and Lily’s death was made clear. Y/N had only gotten to see her dad briefly before he had to flee, and she’d spent quite a bit of her free time thinking about him over the past year.

“Oh no, Y/N, Sirius, don’t worry. I don’t need a hand. I’ve got it,” Remus huffs, his tone teasing. Y/N turns back towards the door, giggling as Remus struggles to pull her trunk through the door. “What in Merlin’s sake do you have in this thing? It didn’t weigh this much when I dropped you off at Kings Cross in September.”

“I may or may not be harboring some things for the Weasley twins,” she admits with a laugh.

Remus gives her a disapproving look to try and hide the gleam of mischief in his eyes. He takes out his wand, waving it so that her trunk is now floating. “Harboring what? Is there something illegal in there? I know what Fred and George get up to.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and laughs along with Sirius. “It’s nothing like that, Remus. I promise. It’s just some stuff they’ve been developing for their joke shop. If Molly finds it she’ll destroy it, so Fred gave it to me to hold onto for a bit. Not a big deal.”

“Come on, Remus, don’t be a stick in the mud,” Sirius chides. “We got up to quite a bit of mischief in our younger days. It’s only natural that Y/N does as well. She’s got the blood of one Marauder and she was raised by another, that’s double the mischief.”

Y/N can tell that Sirius is trying to joke, but his voice shakes. She and Sirius have corresponded a few times since he flew off on Buckbeak and many of her letters contained stories of things her and Remus had done as she grew up. Often times Sirius’ replies were filled with apologies and regret that he had missed out on doing those things with her.

“As long as it’s nothing illegal I’ll let it slide,” Remus says quietly a few moments later. He directs Y/N’s trunk to fly down the hallway and up the stairs. “Second door on the right, yes?”

Sirius nods and puts his arm around Y/N’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. “That’s right. I spent all week preparing your room.” He looks down at Y/N with a reassuring smile. “Alright then, let’s head down to the kitchen for something to eat.”

“Have you got the rest of the rooms cleaned out, Sirius? Our guests will be arriving in a few hours,” Remus says as he takes a sip of coffee.

Y/N frowns, looking between Remus and her dad. “Guests? What guests?”

It’s only two weeks into summer break and Y/N has been enjoying every minute of it. Remus has been in and out of the house doing things for the Order, so she and Sirius have had plenty of time to connect. The house is pretty busy as is, with Order members fliting in and out at all hours of the night, so Y/N can’t imagine it getting any crazier.

Sirius and Remus share a look before Sirius turns to look at Y/N. “Dumbledore has fully briefed the Weasley family on what’s going on, and Arthur and Molly have joined the order. And since Arthur works at the ministry and their son Percy is an assistant to Fudge, Dumbledore thinks it’s best that they stay somewhere that’s under protection.”

“So, the Weasleys are going to be spending the rest of the holiday here?” Y/N asks, her cheeks heating up. When Remus nods she bites her lip. “Do they know? That Sirius is, you know, my dad?”

“You haven’t told them yourself?” Sirius asks. Y/N can hear the hurt in his voice.

Remus shakes his head. “Dumbledore told Arthur and Molly I’m sure, and Ron knows because of Harry, but I don’t think the Twins or Ginny know.” He turns to Sirius then. “We talked about this, Sirius. For Y/N’s safety no one knows you’re her father, that’s why she has Marlene’s last name. We all know that you’re innocent, but the rest of the Wizarding World doesn’t. It was smart of Y/N not to tell anyone except for those who know the truth about you.”

Y/N watches Remus and Sirius look at each other as if they’re having a conversation without even saying anything. “If it makes you feel better,” she says softly, causing both men to look over at her. “I only told them Remus is my Godfather because he started teaching at Hogwarts. He ruined my mysterious reputation.”

Sirius laughs, breaking the awkward tension that had fallen over them. “It does make me feel a bit better, yes.”

“Hey now, I won’t have any of this. You two ganging up on me. Y/N you’re supposed to be on my side,” Remus teases. “Now hurry up and finish your breakfast, you need to get a start on your summer reading. You remember that reading, Sirius? The reading I told you to make sure she started last week?”

Sirius puts his hands up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says innocently, sending Y/N a wink.

After breakfast Y/N does reluctantly head up to her bedroom to start on her summer reading. And she has every intention of doing it. But as she settles into her fluffy bed and starts to read about some transfiguration method she can’t help but let her eyes close, dreams of what shenanigans she and her friends may get up to this summer floating through her mind.

“Five more minutes, Remus,” Y/N mumbles, batting away the finger that’s poking her in the cheek. When the poking persists she opens her eyes, a noise of surprise coming out of her mouth. “Fred? George?” she asks in surprise, suddenly sitting up. She starts to fix her hair, a light flush on her cheeks. “What in the hell are you two doing here?”

“We could ask you the same thing, Y/N,” Fred says, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

“Yeah, imagine our surprise when we enter what we think will be our room for the summer,” George continues, taking a seat on the edge of the other side.

“And we see you, peacefully sleeping in a bed,” Fred says, leaning a bit closer to Y/N.

“In Sirius Black’s house,” they finish together.

“There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for that,” she starts, trying to figure out how to explain one of her deepest secrets to her best friends. They both look at her expectantly and she starts to twirl a piece of hair around her finger. “Sirius Black is my dad,” she mumbles.

Fred and George give her identical looks of disapproval. “Gonna have to speak up, love. We’re old men now, being 17 and all. We’re a bit hard of hearing,” Fred teases, lightly nudging her foot.

Y/N rolls her eyes, ignoring the feeling she has in her stomach from Fred’s pet name and touch. “Sirius is my dad. And not like how you guys like to tease me and say Remus is my dad. He’s my full on. Blood related. Dad.”

“Blimey, Y/N. You’ve been holding out on us. What are we going to find out next? Your mother is the Queen?” George teases with a laugh.

“You’re an idiot, you know who my mum is,” she says with a light laugh, leaning forward to punch George in the shoulder.

Fred wraps his hand around Y/N’s ankle and squeezes lightly, causing her to look over at him. “You have been holding out on us. How come?” he asks, trying to keep the same jokey tone his brother had to hide his genuine hurt.

“Because it’s pretty hard to make friends when the world thinks your dad is one of Voldemort’s biggest supporters,” she answers honestly. “That’s the reason why Remus changed my last name back to my mum’s when he got custody. My mum and her family, they died heroes, that’s the legacy that Remus wanted me to have.”

Fred squeezes her ankle again and Y/N tries to pretend that it doesn’t cause goosebumps to erupt up her leg. “But what about after? When you found out about what really happened?”

Y/N shrugs, looking away from Fred’s gaze. She knows that she could have told them the truth after she had learned it herself and she’s not really sure why she didn’t. “I dunno. You guys had just barely found out about Remus. It just seemed easier to keep it to myself.”

“So, it’s not because you secretly hate us and don’t really want to be our friend?” George asks with a grin.

Y/N grabs a pillow from behind her and throws it at his head. “You’re a moron, George.” Y/N fidgets, suddenly very aware that she is still in her pajamas. “Now shouldn’t you boys be doing something else? Like unpacking your things or bothering I dunno, anyone else in this house?”

George looks from Y/N to the place where Fred is still holding onto her ankle and gives her a glance that Y/N knows means he’ll be bringing this up to her later. She grabs another pillow and throws it at him. “Fine, fine, we’re leaving,” he laughs.

“Wow, someone is feeling feisty,” Fred teases. He squeezes her ankle one last time before he gets up and follows George out of her room. “Oh, by the way, nice Pj’s,” he teases, causing Y/N to throw her last pillow at him.

“Y/N dear, it’s lovely to see you!” Molly greets as Y/N enters the kitchen a bit later. Y/N smiles at her and accepts her warm hug. Having Molly in her life was certainly one of the best perks of being friends with Fred and George. Molly radiated warmth and was always willing to open her home and her heart to her children’s friends; something Y/N was always thankful for.

“Hi Molly. I’m so glad you’re here. Remus and Sirius are pretty awful cooks,” Y/N says with a laugh as she goes to sit down. She tries to take a seat next to George, but Fred grabs her arm and pulls her towards him instead. Y/N flicks Fred on the ear and takes a seat in between them, hoping to avoid more teasing remarks from George later on.

Sirius eyes the interaction between Y/N and Fred carefully, a small smirk forming on his lips. “Now while I can’t speak for Moony, I did just spend 12 years in Azkaban,” Sirius chides a moment later.

“I see why you always beg to spend the Holidays at the Burrow, Y/N,” Remus teases, choosing to ignore Sirius.

“Oh yeah it has everything to do with Mum’s cooking,” George pipes up, his tone a clear indication that Y/N’s yearning to spend time at the Burrow has little to do with Molly’s cooking.

Y/N hits George upside the head, causing Ginny and Fred to burst out in laughter. “Well I obviously don’t go there to spend more time with you, git”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough out of you lot,” Molly scolds lightly as trays of food start to fly onto the table. “Y/N is welcome at our home anytime no matter the reason.”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at George and reaches for a sandwich, her hand brushing Fred’s as he goes to grab the same one. “You take it,” she says quietly, letting her hand linger near his for a moment.

Fred grabs the sandwich and puts it on Y/N’s plate with a wink. “Nah you have that one, I’ll take this one.” Fred winks at her again as he takes the sandwich Ron was about to close his hand around.

“Hey!” Ron shouts in annoyance.

“Sorry ickle Ronniekins, gotta be faster than that,” Fred teases with a laugh.

Y/N laughs along with him, trying to ignore the warmth Fred’s hand gives off as it rests on her knee.

“I really am doing my reading, Remus, I promise!” Y/N shouts after someone knocks on her door.

Y/N had spent most of the day with Fred and George, getting caught up on the new item they’d started to develop in the few short weeks it’s been since the end of term. For a while she had just laid on Fred’s bed, watching him and George pour over their notes to try and work out the issues with what they called ‘extendable ears.’ Eventually she got up and went to find Ginny, mostly to avoid George’s stare after Fred’s hand wound around her ankle again. She avoided both boys until dinner, when the topic of her reading was brought up again. Unfortunately for Y/N, George ratted her out to Remus about her mid-morning nap, and he had made her promise that she’d head up to her room after dinner to read.

“Really? That’s quite boring,” Sirius says playfully as he pushes her door open.

Y/N laughs and throws the book she had been skimming onto the bed next to her. “Oh hey, Dad.”

Sirius closes the door behind him and comes to sit on the edge of her bed. “What’s with all this summer reading anyway? Last I checked Hogwarts didn’t set homework over the summer holidays.”

“It’s not official reading. Just something Remus makes me do during the break. Keep my mind fresh or something,” she explains with an eyeroll. “It has come in handy a couple times, but don’t tell him I said that.”

Sirius winks at her and pretends to zip his lips shut. “Your secret is safe with me.” Sirius pauses for a moment. “So, what’s going on with you and that Weasley boy?”

Y/N can feel her face start to heat up, and she starts to twirl her hair around her finger. “Fred and George are my best friends. Nothing more.”

“Your mother was one of my best friends back in our Hogwarts days, and you can clearly see how that worked out,” he jokes, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear.

“Really? I didn’t know that,” Y/N says softly, trying to both avoid the current topic and find out more information. “Remus didn’t talk about you much, growing up. For obvious reasons,” she chuckles.

Sirius gives her a sad smile. “Your mother was a wild card. You never really knew what she was thinking unless she told you. She instigated quite a bit of the shenanigans James and I got into, just to see if we would actually go through with it.”

“And of course, you guys did,” Y/N laughs.

Sirius scoffs playfully. “Well duh. I was never one to back down from a challenge, especially not when it gave me the opportunity to show off for your mother. I so desperately wanted her attention; it was actually quite pathetic. James would tease me relentlessly for it, but he was no better. Lily didn’t give him the time of day until at least 6th year, no matter how hard he tried to impress her.”

“Well obviously you got her attention eventually,” Y/N says, gesturing towards herself. “I’m living proof.”

“That you are, little one,” Sirius smiles. “You remind me of her so much. Obviously not looks wise,” he adds with a laugh when Y/N gives him a look. Appearance wise there is no doubt that Sirius is Y/N’s dad, they have the same Grey eyes and dark wavy hair. “You have her spirit and her attitude. You have her ability to charm anyone in a matter of minutes. I’ve seen you use it on Remus, it’s quite uncanny really.”

Y/N blushes. Growing up Remus had told her story after story about her mother. Probably to make up for the lack of stories about her dad, but Y/N enjoyed it either way. He often told her how much she reminded him of her, but it sounds different coming from Sirius. Sirius had been in love with her mother, had known her deepest secrets and had even started a family with her. If Sirius could see Marlene in Y/N, then there’s no doubt in her mind that it’s true.

“So, just friends eh?” Sirius asks a moment later, playfully nudging Y/N’s leg.

Y/N blushes again for a different reason and nods. “Yes, just friends,” she insists.

“We’ll see about that,” Sirius says with a wink. He stands up then and looks down at her. “Now you better actually do some summer reading, before Remus forbids us from spending any time together.”

“How’s the summer reading going?” Fred says teasingly as he sneaks up behind Y/N.

Y/N quickly turns around and hits him on the chest lightly with her book. “You’re such an asshat. This house is creepy enough as it is, there’s no need for you to go sneaking up on people.”

Fred laughs as he jumps over the back of the sofa and sits next to Y/N, his arm resting on the piece of furniture just behind her head. “But that’s half the fun.”

“Where’s George?” she asks, turning her head to look around and make sure that he isn’t lurking around somewhere as well.

“Why? Am I not enough for you?” Fred asks with a pout.

Y/N rolls her eyes and digs her fingers into his side, tickling him slightly. “No. But I recall Molly tasked you two with getting some doxies out of the curtains in the study upstairs so if you’re slacking off he is too.”

“Me? Slacking off?” Fred asks astonishingly, grasping at his heart. “Y/N, you absolute monster! You’ve wounded me! I would never be slacking off!” He grins down at Y/N, causing her to roll her eyes again. “But to answer your question he’s upstairs recovering from a mishap with one of our nosebleed nougats.”

Y/N grimaces, a memory of Lee Jordan bleeding all over her Potions notes coming to mind. “Yikes. Still haven’t gotten them just right?” Fred shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “You think they’ll be ready? By the start of term?”

All Fred and George have talked about for years is opening up their own joke shop someday. In the past few years they’ve become closer than ever, having already developed some successful products with more in the works. Their only real roadblock has been funding, and Fred had shared with Y/N their plan to develop something called a Skiving Snackbox that they could sell to students to help with their startup costs.

“Oh yeah, there’s no doubt in my mind,” he responds confidently. “George and I are a force to be reckon with when we’ve got our mind on something and now that we’ve got our best girl with us for the whole summer,” Fred pauses so he can wink at Y/N and she hopes that the immediate blush that appears on her cheeks isn’t noticeable. “We’ll definitely get all the kinks worked out in time.”

Fred’s arm has fallen from its’ original resting place to Y/N’s shoulder, and his fingers have started to play with her hair. She rests her head on Fred’s shoulder, her fingers fiddling with the pages of her book. Fred’s fingers tug on her hair lightly, causing Y/N to look up at him. “What’s on your mind, Y/N?” he asks softly.

Y/N shrugs. “Just thinking about next year. We’re gonna be in our last year of school in a couple of months and I still have no idea what I want to do with my life.” During her OWL year Y/N had told McGonagall that she wanted to work in the Care of Magical Creatures department at the Ministry, but she isn’t quite sure that’s exactly what she wants. “You and George have already figured everything out and I’m just kinda stuck.”

Fred scoffs. “We have far from figured everything out, Y/N. But I’m glad it appears that way,” he chuckles. “And who cares if you don’t have everything figured out yet? You’re not even 17 yet. Frankly I think it’s rubbish that we’re expected to have our lives figured out when we’re this age.” Fred bites his lip. “If it really bothers you that much, then just come work at the joke shop with George and I.”

“What?” Y/N asks in surprise, trying to hide her excitement at his casual remark. “You’d really want me to work with you? The both of you. You and George,” she says quickly, looking away from Fred to hide her embarrassment.

“Yeah, ‘course, Y/N,” Fred says with a laugh. “You’re my best friend, why wouldn’t I want you to?”

“So, I’m your best friend, hm? Can’t wait to tell Lee you said that,” she teases, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Well, don’t you too look cozy?” George asks suddenly, causing Y/N and Fred to jump apart.

Y/N turns around so she can glare at George before she throws her book at him. “Blimey you’re a menace.”

George laughs and comes over to Y/N and Fred, forcing them apart so he can sit in between them. “Hey, that’s not very nice,” George says, giving Y/N a look when she digs her elbow into his ribs.

“You couldn’t have sat in any of the other chairs in this room?” Fred groans, moving over to give George room.

“I could have,” George says playfully. “But I wanted to sit here.” George grins wickedly at Fred. “Is that a problem, dear brother of mine? That I wanted to sit next to Y/N?”

“Not at all,” Fred says as he suddenly stands up. “We should probably get to that stuff Mum wanted us to do anyway.” Fred gives George a look and starts to head towards the door. “Enjoy you’re reading, Y/N,” he says before disappearing around the corner.

Y/N glares at George before digging her fingers into his ribs, causing him to yelp. “Ow! What was that for?” he asks, rubbing his side.

“You know exactly what that was for, git. You always have to go and make things weird,” Y/N huffs, crossing her arms.

“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen, Y/N,” George says with an eye roll. “And I wasn’t making things weird, I was simply trying to facilitate a conversation that you and my brother are both too stubborn to have on your own.”

“And what conversation might that be?” Y/N asks as she swallows thickly, already knowing the answer.

“Don’t be daft,” George drawls. “You’re both stupid in love with each other, so just admit it and make out so we all can move on. It’s getting ridiculous.”

Y/N blushes and digs her fingers into George’s ribs again to hide her nerves. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, George. Fred is my best friend, just like you and Lee.”

“Oh yeah, because Lee and I are always looking for an excuse to touch you, my bad,” George rolls his eyes. “Wait, that was Fred who kept grabbing your ankle yesterday, silly me.” George hits himself on the forehead jokingly. “And it definitely wasn’t Fred who just left his brother up in bed after he nearly bled to death so he could come cuddle you. Definitely not. Oh, wait.”

“Now who’s being a drama queen,” Y/N teases lightly as she begins to twirl a piece of hair around her index finger. “Friends can cuddle with each other, it’s not a big deal,” she mumbles.

“You’re right it is normal, Harry, Ron and Hermione cuddle all the time,” George responds, nudging Y/N.

Y/N scoffs at George. “Just give it a rest, George. If I did feel something more than friendship with Fred I would never act on it. Fred isn’t shy about anything, if he wanted to be more than friends he would have said something by now. So, we are clearly meant to be nothing more than friends. Which I’m fine with,” she adds, glaring at George. “Now go help your brother with that doxy infestation before Molly finds you here and sets off that awful portrait of my grandmother again.”

“Finally,” Fred groans when George joins him up in the third-floor study. “Mum’s gonna be here any minute to check up on our progress and getting rid of these doxies is a two-person job.”

George rolls his eyes and takes the spray bottle Fred practically shoves into his chest. “What’s got you in a mood? Upset that I interrupted your snuggle time with Y/N?” he jokes.

“No,” Fred grumbles. When George gives him his signature ‘cut the crap’ look Fred flips him off. “We were just sitting there, talking like two friends do. You’re the one that made it weird.”

George rolls his eyes. “Have you forgotten that we’re twins? And that I can practically read your mind?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fred asks as he grabs his wand. He motions for George to get into place as he gets ready to cast the spell that will make the doxies fly at them. When George nods that he’s ready, Fred waves his wand and a flurry of doxies heads towards them.

“You know exactly what it means,” George grunts as he sprays the immobilizing potion at the doxies. When Fred doesn’t say anything as he starts to throw the stunned doxies in a bucket, George continues. “You very clearly have feeling for Y/N that expand beyond friendship.”

Fred glares at his brother and throws a doxie in the bucket a little too hard. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Y/N is my friend. My best friend, just like how she’s your best friend, git. Or are you claiming to be in love with her as well?”

“If she’s only your best friend then why did it bother you when I sat in between you two just now, hm?” Fred looks away from George, urging the younger twin to continue. “And what about the other day at lunch? She was going to sit next to me, and you pulled her towards you. Why? And what about that thing with the ankle? Hm? What was that all about?”

Fred turns away from George, trying to hide his blush. “Friends can be affectionate with each other, George, “ he insists. “Just because you don’t feel the need to be affectionate with Y/N doesn’t mean that I have non-platonic feelings for her because I do.”

“Oh really?” George asks curiously. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I started to show more affection for Y/N then? The same way you do?”

“Not at all,” Fred responds through gritted teeth. He stomps over to George and shoves the bucket into his stomach. “Now finish up with this, I’m going to go revamp our nougat recipe so we can avoid another bleed out.”

George smirks as Fred’s back as he storms out, a plan forming in his head.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Y/N whispers into George’s ear a few days later during breakfast.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Y/N,” George responds with a wink.

Y/N narrows her eyes at him. “You’re up to something, I know it.”

Ever since their conversation in the lounge, George has been acting weird. He’s been insisting that she sit next to him at meals, when she hangs out with Fred and George in their room he pulls her down onto his bed and the other day he even went as far as to hold her hand while they watched Ginny and Ron play Wizard’s Chess.

“I’m just being a good friend, Y/N. Friends can be affectionate towards each other, can’t they, Fred?” George asks, suddenly turning towards his twin.

Fred glares at George. “Mhm. Of course they can.”

George then looks back at Y/N looking far too pleased with himself. “See, Y/N? I’m just doing what normal friends do.”

“Well knock it off,” she scolds lightly. “It’s weird.”

“Oh, so it’s weird when I do it, but when Fred does it, it’s a normal part of friendship,” George muses. “Interesting.”

Y/N scoffs and stands up from the table. “I’m going to go read.” She gives one last look at George before she exits the kitchen and heads upstairs.

“Can I come in?” Fred asks softly, leaning against the entrance to Y/N’s room. He planned on giving her some space after what went down at breakfast, but when she didn’t come down for lunch Fred decided to seek her out.

Y/N is sitting on her bed leaning up against the headboard with a book on her lap. “Yeah, sure,” she responds, not even looking up at Fred.

Fred sighs and comes to sit down next to Y/N. He leaves a small gap in between them and resists his urge to put his arm around her. “What’s going on with you? I’ve never seen you cross at George.”

“He’s just being an idiot,” she says, slamming her book shut and tossing it aside. “He’s taking the mickey out of me after a conversation we had the other day.”

Fred hums, nudging Y/N’s foot with his. “That would explain his odd behavior over the last few days. He’s been keeping you all to himself, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Y/N blushes and punches his thigh lightly. “You know I’m just across the hall from you, right? You could have come in at any time to see me.”

“You know what I mean,” he chuckles. Fred bites his lip. “Must have been some conversation to get you both so worked up.”

“It was stupid honestly,” Y/N says with a shrug, trying to seem casual. “I just let him get to me and I shouldn’t have.”

“Yea, I got a bit stroppy at him the other day as well. That’s why he’s so quiet, he’s figuring out how to get in your head,” Fred muses with a laugh. “You’re alright though, yeah?”

Y/N nods, bumping their shoulders together. “Yeah, ‘m fine.”

“Good, now I won’t feel bad about doing this.”

Before Y/N can ask what Fred’s talking about, she’s being smacked in the head by a pillow. “Oh, it is on, Weasley!” she shouts, grabbing her own pillow.

They spend a few minutes hitting at each other, both of them laughing like crazy. Y/N manages to knock Fred’s pillow out of his hands as she lands a hit to his chest and Fred’s hands immediately fly to her sides and he starts to tickle her as a distraction. As she tries to wiggle away from him, Fred takes one hand away and knocks her own pillow to the ground.

“Okay, okay, you got me,” Y/N giggles, trying to catch her breath. Fred is hovering over her, a cheeky grin on his face. He brings a hand up to brush her hair out of her face, and Y/N tries to ignore the tingles that roll down her spine at his delicate touch. She’s suddenly very aware of Fred’s weight on top of her and a pink blush starts to creep up her neck.

“Oi! Lovebirds!” Ginny shouts, a laugh falling from her lips when Fred nearly falls off of Y/N’s bed as he tries to get up.

“What, Gin?” Fred runs a hand through his hair, trying to act casual.

“Mum needs help getting rid of some creature stuck under a bed upstairs, if you’re not too busy here,” she chuckles, gesturing towards Y/N.

Fred nods and shoots a grin at Y/N. “See ya later.” Fred heads out of her room, shoving Ginny as he goes.

“Damn,” Y/N mutters to herself. She was trying to tiptoe down into the kitchen to grab a snack before dinner, but the door to the stairwell is shut tightly. “Stupid Order.” She’s about to turn around and head back upstairs, when she hears some noise coming from the sitting room.

“Are you two playing Wizard’s Chess?” she asks in surprise. When she first entered the sitting room, she wasn’t sure what to expect, but Y/N certainly didn’t think it would be Fred and George sitting on either side of the coffee table, with Ron’s Wizard Chess board between them.

George rolls his eyes as one of his pieces moves across the board. “Don’t act so shocked, Y/N. Contrary to popular belief Fred and I in fact have brains and we use them from time to time.”

“I’m not shocked because you’re doing something that involves thinking,” she chides as she takes a seat on the sofa. “I’m shocked because you’re doing something quiet and innocent.” Fred leans back against Y/N’s legs, and his left hand winds around her left ankle. “Figured you two were up in your room working on those extendible ears again.”

Fred huffs as one of his pieces gets destroyed by one of George’s. “We were, ‘til Mum walked in on us and confiscated it. She’s going to Kings Cross after dinner to pick up Hermione, so we’re just killing time until we can go and nick it back.”

“And your nosebleed nougats? You figured that one out?” Y/N asks, starting to run her hands through Fred’s hair.

“Yup, turns out we weren’t using enough Billywig Sting Slime in the antidote candy, so it wasn’t strong enough to stop the bleeding,” George responds, not even bothering to look up at her.

Y/N groans. “You guys are boring. I’m going back to my room.” She moves to stand up, but Fred tightens his grip on her ankle.

“No,” he coos. “Stay, please.” Fred tilts his head back so he can pout up at Y/N. “We’ll be more entertaining, I promise.”

“Yeah, this game is over anyway,” George says with a grin. “Checkmate.”

Fred groans as his final piece falls. “I’ll get you next time.”

“Yeah sure you will,” George laughs. “Moving on to more exciting things, someone’s birthday is coming up.”

“That’s right! In just a few weeks little Y/N will finally be the big 17,” Fred teases, squeezing her ankle again.

Y/N kicks at him lightly. “Oh, shove off, I’m only a few months younger than you lot.”

“But we’re still older than you, and that’s what matters,” George teases. “So, what do you wanna do for your birthday?”

Y/N shrugs, she honestly hadn’t even thought about it. Her and Remus never really made a big deal about her birthday. They’d pick up some takeout from a muggle restaurant and later in the evening they’d have cake and she’d open up her presents. It was never anything special, and Y/N was fine with that.

“Just figured we’d do the usual, if I’m honest. Dinner, cake, some presents. Nothing crazy,” she responds a moment later.

Fred frowns up at her. “That’s it?”

“Figured you’d do something big; a young witch only turns 17 once ya know,” George says.

Y/N nods. “Yeah, that’s what I always do. Why would this year be any different?”

“I don’t know, maybe because your two best friends in the whole world are here to celebrate it with you?,” Fred teases.

“And your father is too,” Sirius says, causing all three of them to turn and look at him.

“Blimey dad, you scared me. How long have you been standing there?”

Sirius smiles at Y/N and steps farther into the room, his forearms resting on the back of the sofa. “Just a few minutes, the Order meeting just got out.”

Y/N can hear shuffling as people head past the sitting room towards the entrance of Grimmauld Place. “Anything exciting happening?” she asks hopefully.

Despite the fact that Fred and George have already reached adulthood in the Wizarding World and Y/N’s 17thbirthday was only a few weeks away, none of them had been allowed to join the order or attend meetings. Y/N had begged Remus to let her join not too long after summer started, and he had firmly put his foot down. Fred and George had managed to get their extendible ears up and running for them to eavesdrop on the meetings, but everything said ended up translated into Spanish.

“You know as much as I would like to share that information with all of you,” Sirius says slowly, looking from Y/N to the twins. “I can’t. For one it is classified information per Dumbledore’s orders,” Sirius rolls his eyes. “And two, your mother will have my head and mount it on the wall if I say anything to you boys.”

Y/N groans. “This is such bullshit. We’re old enough to be considered adults and yet we’re not allowed to make decisions for ourselves.”

“Why haven’t you joined the order?” Fred asks, squeezing Y/N’s ankle so she’ll look down at him. “Obviously George and I can’t because of Mum but why haven’t you? Sirius is clearly fine with it.”

“Because Remus said no,” she explains with an eyeroll, as if the answer is obvious. Y/N can hear Sirius shift uncomfortably behind her.

“And? Sirius is your dad. That’s got to count for something,” George points out.

Y/N frowns, she honestly hadn’t even thought about that. Sirius is her dad, and Remus may have been the one who raised her, but he’s not her dad. Y/N loved growing up with Remus, and she’s thankful that he sacrificed so much of his life so that she could be raised by someone who loved her and cared about her wellbeing. But Sirius is free from Azkaban now and they’re living under the same roof. Why shouldn’t Sirius be the one making her decisions?

“Makes sense to me,” Sirius says. “So, Y/N, you have my blessing. If you want to join the Order once you turn 17, then do it. You’re right. In the eyes of the ministry you become an adult in a few weeks, and you should be the one making your decisions.”

Y/N smiles up at her dad. “Guess this birthday will be a bit different than normal.”

“So, I’ve been trying to figure out what to get you for your birthday,” Fred muses as he comes to sit on the edge of Y/N’s bed.

Y/N resists her urge to pull him closer, instead choosing to nudge his side with her foot in the hopes that he’ll grab her ankle again. As weird of a gesture it might be, Y/N actually really enjoys it. “Is that why I’ve barely seen you? Too busy thinking?” she teases, a hint of seriousness in her voice.

Once Hermione arrived at Grimmauld Place it seemed like Molly was kicked into overdrive. She had them working like crazy to get the house cleaned and free of the magical pests that had taken residence in the empty house. Any free time they had Fred and George spent locked up in their room, meaning Y/N has only seen them at meals for the past week.

“Aw, did you miss me?” he asks playfully, his hand winding around her ankle. “George and I have just been busy is all. We’ve finally got the extendible ears transmitting in English, and we managed to get the Fainting Fancies to taste like caramel instead of ear wax.”

“That’s good, I guess,” she mumbles.

Fred squeezes her ankle lightly. “Oh, come on don’t be like that. You’re still my best girl.”

“You could have at least invited me to join,” Y/N says, trying to keep from smiling at their contact.

“Hey, I wanted to invite you in,” Fred says defensively. “But George kept spouting about how I get distracted when you help us, and we never end up getting anything done so he wouldn’t let me.” Fred is blushing like crazy and Y/N can’t help but smile.

“I’m just messing with you,” she chuckles, her stomach full of butterflies. “So, you’ve been thinking about what to get me, hm? Any ideas?”

“Oh loads,” Fred says, his thumb starting to rub circles on her ankle. “But nothing seems quite right.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Just get me what you do every year. A card that explodes and scares the shit out of me and a chocolate frog.”

Fred shakes his head. “No, it needs to be something, special. Your birthday gift to me this year was special, so I need to do something even better.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Y/N says softly, looking away from Fred. Fred and George had taken advantage of the Triwizard Tournament and had spent the days leading up to each task taking bets and sacking away the money they made for their shop. Y/N knew that Fred wouldn’t straight up take any money from her, so she had gifted him a Galleon on his birthday, insisting that it was an investment in what she knew would be a successful business.

“Yes, it was,” he insists, pinching her ankle so she’ll look up at him. “Most everyone thinks we’re mental for putting everything we have into something that may never be successful, except for you. You’ve always believed in George and I, since the first prank we ever pulled. So yeah, maybe it was just a Galleon, but it was the meaning behind it that made it special.”

“Okay, no need to be so mushy,” she teases, trying to ignore the feeling Fred’s words give her. Fred is your friend she reminds herself. It’s normal for friends to say that kind of stuff to each other. And it’s normal to feel lightheaded when they do.

Fred laughs. “Fine, don’t take my compliment. I’m still going to do something special for your birthday. Whether you think you deserve it or not.” Fred squeezes her ankle again before standing up. “Alright I’ve gotta get back to George, I was only supposed to be going to the toilet.”

Y/N lays back against her pillows as Fred leaves her room, a dopey smile on her face as she tries to deny the fact that George may have been right all along.

Y/N watches as Fred shuffles the stack of cards, looking far too pleased with himself. Since their conversation in her room the other night, Fred has been making more of an effort to spend time with Y/N. They’ve been playing exploding snap with Ron and George for the past 45 minutes, and Fred has somehow managed to win every game.

“Take a picture, Y/N, it’ll last longer,” Fred teases, bringing Y/N out of her thoughts.

“Don’t know why anyone would want a picture of your ugly mug,” Ron pipes up, causing Y/N to laugh.

Fred hits Ron upside the head. “I don’t see anyone fawning over you either, git. Y/N’s been staring for a good five minutes, clearly she’s entranced by my beauty.”

“Oh, in your dreams, Weasley. I’m keeping an eye on you, there’s no way you’ve been winning by pure luck. You’re up to something and I’m going to figure it out,” she says, sticking her tongue out at him.

Fred winks at her. “Sure sure, whatever you say, dear.”

“Just deal the damn cards,” George groans, clearly annoyed by their antics. “Flirt with each other later.”

Y/N watches as Fred deals the cards to them all, trying to detect any signs of deception. She frowns when nothing appears to be out of order. They play normally for a few minutes, but Y/N’s suspicion that Fred is cheating returns as he quickly pulls ahead.

“How? How are you doing it?” Y/N asks 20 minutes later as Fred celebrates another win.

“I told you, I’m not cheating. It’s okay to be jealous of my success, Y/N. You’ll get better the more you play,” Fred teases with a wink.

Y/N groans. When Fred goes to grab the cards to shuffle again, Y/N slaps her hand on top of them. “If you’re not cheating then you won’t mind if I shuffle this time,” she smirks. Fred sputters as he tries to think of a reason why Y/N shouldn’t shuffle. “I knew it! You’re charming the cards aren’t you?”

“No, of course not,” Fred says quickly, a sheepish smile on his face.

“I knew it!” Y/N shouts. “You’re a dead man, Fred Weasley!”

Fred gets up and runs around the room, Y/N following close behind him. Y/N manages to catch up and she jumps on his back, Fred’s hands automatically gripping her thighs, so she doesn’t fall.

“Do I even want to know?” Hermione asks as she steps into the room.

Fred has thrown Y/N onto the couch and is tickling her mercilessly, while George and Ron look on in disgust.

George shakes his head. “No, probably not.”

“There’s the birthday girl,” Sirius says with a smile as Y/N enters the kitchen. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, dad,” Y/N says as Sirius envelops her in a hug.

She takes a seat next to Fred when they part, a blush forming on her cheeks when he puts his arm around her and pulls her into his side. “Good morning to you too, doofus,” she teases, piling some pancakes on her plate.

“How does it feel to be an old woman?” Fred teases, causing George to laugh.

“I can’t believe our little Y/N is already so grown up,” George says playfully, pretending to wipe away a tear.

Y/N rolls her eyes as she drowns her pancakes in syrup. “You’re both insufferable, do you know that?”

Remus enters the kitchen then, a large smile on his face. “Didn’t expect to see you up so early.” He pauses behind Y/N to ruffle her hair and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Happy birthday, Y/N.”

“Thanks Remus,” she says, flicking Fred in the ear as he laughs.

“I can’t believe you’re 17 already. Seems like just yesterday your mother was laying on the beach refusing to believe she was in labor,” Sirius muses with a smile as Remus sits down.

Remus chuckles. “I remember that. I think you sent me 15 owls in the span of 45 minutes.”

“Well I was in full on panic mode, Moony. I thought Marlene was going to give birth right in the sand!”

Y/N feels like her cheeks are on fire as Fred and George snicker to themselves. “Okay, can we please talk about something that isn’t my birth? Literally anything else I’m begging.”

“Potty training, then? Because boy do I have some stories about that,” Remus teases, a laugh falling from his lips as Y/N chucks a grape at his head. “I’m only joking, no need to start a food fight.”

The kitchen starts to fill up then as everyone starts to wake up, and Y/N is thankful that all of the heat is off of her. Y/N looks around as everyone takes a seat at the table and starts to each, idle conversations popping up all around. Y/N can’t remember a time when she felt this content. Nearly all the people she cares about are sitting around the same table, it’s like every wish she’s ever made on a birthday cake has come true.

“So, Y/N, now that you’re 17 are you going to join the Order?” Ginny asks excitedly.

Before Y/N has a chance to respond Remus chuckles. “Of course not, she’s still in school. That’s the rule, no underage wizards and no wizards that are still in school.”

“That’s not the Order’s rule,” Y/N points out as she frowns. “That’s Molly’s rule for Fred and George. I no longer have the trace and I can do magic outside of school. Therefore, I’m joining the Order.”

Remus gives her a look. “Even so we talked about this at the beginning of summer. I said no, end of story.”

Y/N puts her fork down. “No, not end of story. I was 16 at the beginning of summer, now I’m 17. I can make my own choices. And besides, Sirius said it was okay.”

“Sirius’ opinion has no bearing on the matter. I told you that you’re too young to join the Order and that’s final,” Remus scolds.

“And why does my opinion have no bearing, Remus?” Sirius asks firmly. “Last I checked Y/N is my daughter, not yours.”

The air in the room is tense, and everyone looks around, trying not to pay too much attention to the exchange between Sirius and Remus.

“She might as well be. It’s not like I haven’t sacrificed the past 15 years of my life to raise her or anything since you got yourself tossed in Azkaban,” Remus responds coldly.

Y/N stands up suddenly and everyone turns to look at her. “Sorry that I was such a burden on your life, Remus. No need to worry, I’m 17 now and I can take care of myself. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you any longer.”

With that Y/N turns on her heel and stomps out of the kitchen, a few stray tears streaming down her face.

“Go away,” Y/N shouts at whoever is knocking at her door. She’s lying on her side in bed, her body curled around a pillow that she’s hugging to her chest.

“Please let me in, Y/N,” Fred pleads.

Y/N sits up and wipes away the few stray tears still running down her cheeks. With a wave of her wand the door unlocks. “Fine, come in.”

Fred pushes the door open and slowly comes in, one hand behind his back. He bites his lip as shuts the door behind him, his eyes focused on Y/N. “Are you alright?” he asks softly as he takes a seat down next to her.

“Do I look alright?” she asks, gesturing towards her disheveled appearance.

Fred smiles at her. “I dunno, you look just as beautiful as you always do”

“You’re only saying that to make me feel better,” she says lamely, lightly shoving Fred’s shoulder.

“As if,” Fred scoffs. “You always look beautiful to me, Y/N. Even after you dove headfirst into that snowbank while sledding 2nd year.”

Y/N glares at Fred, but she can’t help but smile as well. “Okay fine, I’m smiling. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Fred teases with a wink. He pauses, reaching out to grab Y/N’s hand with his free one. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice serious. “That was, something back there.”

Y/N shrugs, squeezing Fred’s hand. “I always forget how young Remus was when I fell into his lap. I mean he was only 4 years older than we are now and suddenly he was responsible for a toddler than wasn’t even his. I know he gave up a lot to take care of me but hearing him say it like that,” Y/N’s voice cracks as tears well up in her eyes again. “It makes me feel, I dunno, bad. Like a burden.”

“Hey, now, I’ll have none of that,” he says softly, wiping away the few tears that stream down her cheeks. “First of all, you have nothing to feel bad about. It’s not your fault that Remus chose to bring you up. And second of all, honestly, love I don’t think he meant a word of what he said. He looked so awful after you left, he was really broken up about it.”

Y/N sniffles. “Really?” When Fred nods she takes a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have pushed it either. I was kind of being a brat,” she admits, sticking her tongue out at Fred when he nods in agreement. “I should go apologize.”

Y/N moves to get up, but Fred tightens his grip on her hand. “Wait, not yet.”

“What now?” Y/N groans, squeezing his hand back to let him know she’s only kidding.

“I know it’s a little too early for presents but,” he says as his other hands comes from behind his back. There’s a medium sized black box in his hand, with a big red bow right in the middle. “I can’t wait any longer to give it to you and I figured it’d make you feel better.”

“Fred,” Y/N gasps, a pink blush appearing on her cheeks to match the one on Fred’s. “I told you just to get me a chocolate frog.”

“And I told you I was going to get you something special,” he responds cheekily. He pushes the box into her hand. “Open it.”

Y/N releases Fred hand so she can open the box, her eyes not leaving his. When Fred gives her a nod of encouragement she looks down at the box, a small gasp leaving her lips. “Oh Fred.”

Inside the box is a delicate silver chain, with a silver charm in the shape of an F hanging from it. Y/N’s fingers ghost over the chain lightly, trying to find the right words to express how much she loves it. Emotions are bubbling up in her mouth, threatening to spill out everywhere and her heart is fluttering in her chest.

“Do you like it?” Fred asks nervously.

“Like it?” Y/N asks as she looks back up at Fred. “I love it Fred, it’s gorgeous. It was worth all the thinking you put into it, it’s perfect.”

Fred smiles at Y/N. “Well I settled on this particular piece of jewelry because I was able to get a matching one pretty easily.” Y/N gives Fred a look of confusion, and he chuckles as he reaches a hand into the collar of his shirt. He pulls out a necklace that looks identical to the one in Y/N’s hand, but the charm that hangs off of it is the first letter of her name.

“I charmed them, so when you touch the F on your necklace, the letter on mine warms up and when I touch the letter on mine, the F on yours does the same. That way whenever I’m thinking of you or you’re thinking of me, we can touch our charms and let the other know,” he explains softly.

“Fred that,” Y/N swallows thickly. “That is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Fred clears his throat and grabs Y/N’s hand again. “It’s looking more and more like George and I aren’t going to be completing our final year at Hogwarts.” Y/N goes to say something, but Fred puts a hand up to stop her. “With the money that we made last year and the money that Harry gave us from the Triwizard tournament we were able to rent out a place in Diagon Alley. We’re still gonna start the year, it’ll give us time to test our products and start to build up a customer base, but we already decided that we’re not going to finish the year.”

Fred releases Y/N’s hand so he can cup her cheek instead. “And I can’t leave you there at Hogwarts without there being some way for me to tell you when I’m thinking of you. Because Y/N you are constantly on my mind. You are the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep at night. You’re my everything. You’re my voice of reason, you’re my source of comfort, you’re my best friend and,” Fred pauses, taking a deep breath. “And you’re the love of my life.”

“Fred,” Y/N breaths.

Y/N is so overwhelmed with emotion that she can’t find the words to express everything that Fred means to her, so she does the next best thing. Y/N tentatively leans forward and lightly brushes her lips against Fred’s. Taking the hint, Fred presses their lips together in a heated kiss. Their lips move together softly, and when Fred pulls away Y/N feels lightheaded.

“I love you,” she whispers softly, kissing Fred again briefly. “At some point you became so much more than my best friend and I tried to deny it for so long, in case you didn’t feel the same. But Merlin, Fred. I am stupid, stupid in love with you.”

Fred chuckles and presses a peck to Y/N’s lips. “Thank Merlin George was right, otherwise I would have just mucked up the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Fred pauses, taking the necklace out of its’ box. “Just don’t tell him I said that.”

“And give him the satisfaction of being right? Never,” she says with a chuckle. Y/N moves her hair out of the way so Fred can clasp the necklace around her neck. The chain is cold, and it sends a shiver down her spine. “Well, let’s see if it works then.”

“Do you doubt my abilities?” Fred teases.

As Fred grabs a hold the charm on his necklace, the F on Y/N’s starts to warm up, causing goosebumps to pop up on her chest. “Not in the slightest,” she assures, grabbing a hold of the F. Fred leans forward and presses their lips together again, both of them still desperately dripping their charms.

“To be honest with you,” George says from the doorway, looking up at Remus and Sirius. “I don’t think she’s thinking about what happened at breakfast.

Y/N and Fred laugh into each other’s mouths as Y/N fumbles around for her wand. With a wave the door slams shut. “Oh yea, there are definitely perks to being 17,” she says, pulling away from Fred’s mouth. When Fred gives her a questioning look she waves her wand again.

“What did you just cast?” he asks, allowing Y/N to pull him on top of her as she lays back on her bed.

She grins up at him, her hands gripping his neck. “A silencing charm.”

Fred presses their lips together hotly, thinking of all the non-platonic things he wants to do to Y/N.

#Fred Weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley fluff #Fred Weasley fanfiction #Fred Weasley fic #Fred Weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #fw #golden

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ofbooksandaesthetics · 3 years

Text

Slightly Unsightly

BBC Merlin

Arthur x Reader

Summary: Merlin is yet again dodging his duties and you have to take over from him.

»»————-　♔　————-««

“Gauis. Gaius!” You whisper shouted, slightly opening the door and sticking your head through, wary of intruding on the old man. Your face flushed from running through the castle.

30 minutes earlier

Whilst doing your morning duties, Arthur had opened his chamber doors unaware of your presence, in a fight of rage. With his shirt slightly crooked (more than slightly crooked) and his trousers falling from his hips, you all but nearly blushed at the inappropriate sight.

When his eyes met yours, his anger dissipated into a smile and then again into one of embarrassment, as he noticed your shock and remembered his state of undress. Looking down, he attempted to hold up his trousers and fix his collar, but this was not helping your recovery or his for that matter.

After his awful attempt at trying to fix the situation, he let out an awkward cough and looked down to the floor, his cheeks flushing red.

“Have you seen Merlin by any chance? He seems to be late, and I have a meeting with my father in less than 20 minutes.” He finally let out, his gaze still fixed on the ground.

You stammered. You’d worked in the palace nearly all your life, and like many workers held the handsome prince in high regard. But never had you expected to see him in such a... compromising position. After a few seconds, you finally replied.

“Umm. No!” You yelped, which caused Arthur to look at you in shock this time. Your eyes widened realising you had all but shouted at the future king

“No. No, I have not your highness. I can go to Gaius’ quarters to see if he’s there if you’d like.”

“NO!” It was Arthur’s turn to shout, and he quickly tried to cover his embarrassment with yet another dry cough. “Even if you ran all the way there, I’d still be late for the meeting.” He poked his head further out the doorway.

“Are there any other servants here?”

“No, my lord. I think I’m the only servant in this part of the wing.” With your broom long forgotten, you started to ponder solutions to the young prince’s predicament.

“I could help!” You exclaimed. This time you both blushed in unison, surprised by how eager you sounded. “I mean I can help you. If that’s what you need, sire. And I understand that’s I’m not the bes-”

“Yes! Perfect, come on” and before you could even react, Arthur had grabbed you by the forearm and dragged you into his chambers.

All though it wasn’t your first time in the prince’s chamber, as Merlin often coaxed you into helping do the spring cleaning, it was the first time you’d been in without another servant. You stood frozen awaiting the prince’s orders. You watched him stand in the middle of the room, also waiting for you to start dressing him. After a small staring match, he gestured to his clothes and you moved to action, albeit it apprehensively

Once you stood in front of him his gaze met yours and he blushed yet again and diverted his gaze. Firstly you fixed his trousers, it seemed right to get the most awkward part done first. For both of your sakes. You looked around for the belt you’d seen Merlin put away before and hurried over to it. Returning to the prince, you had to make a decision; would you bend down and pick up his trousers yourself or ask the future prince to do it himself.

If possible, Arthur’s blush would had covered his whole body when he noticed your gaze stuck on his bottom half and hands clenching his leather belt in deep thought. Noticing your look of panic, he bent down and pulled up his trousers, surprising you, for Merlin had always complained about his “royal denseness” and inability to do a simple thing for himself.

You, again, met his gaze, but quickly dropped it to loop and fasten the belt. Now the hardest part was done, you could focus on getting the rest of his outfit fitted before embarrassing yourself further. His shirt was easy enough to fix, just needing shifting and his collar. But again, your eyes made contact.

“I’m sorry about this.” sighed Arthur, ending the vow of silence between the pair.

“It’s not a problem, your highness,” you said with a small smile. “And if it’s anyone’s faults it’s Merlin’s”

You both chuckled at this, releasing some of the tension between the two of you. You two continued with small talk as you continued to dress the prince, fitting his jacket and then shoes. You had him sit in the chair, fixing his hair that was stuck in every direction possible, whilst he told you about what the meeting was about, letting you know his opinions on the “snotty” lords.

Once you were finished, you bowed your head and wished him a good day, but before you could leave he called your name.

“Y/N! I- I appreciate you helping me. I’d like to thank you! Why don’t you dine with me this evening? It could be a way to get back at Merlin for causing this.”

Your eyes widened for the hundredth time in the last 20 minutes and you bowed.

“Thank you! I’d love to, your highne-.” You replied, your heart hammering in your chest but before you could finish you were interrupted

“ARTHUR! Just call me Arthur.” Arthur spluttered before rushing past you and exiting his quarters.

You stood there in a state of surprise. Before remembering your idiot of a friend. You ran through the corridors, passing confused maids and knights until you reached the physician’s quarters. Gaius finally answered, and gave you a look of incredulity at your flushed state.

“MERLIN! Where is he? And you better not say the tavern.”

#bbc merlin #bbc merlin imagine #arthur x reader #arthur pendragon #arthur pendragon x reader #bbc merlin oneshot #bbc merlin fanfic #bbc merlin fanfiction #arthur pendragon imagine #arthur pendragon oneshot

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lit-in-thy-heart · 3 years

Note

For the hug prompt: 15, merwaine!!

@zykamiliah thank you for the prompt!!! i'm sorry it's taken so long and i sort of made it merwaincelot as well...thanks again, i hope you like it!! 💕💕

(for context, this is set between s3 and s4)

Training sessions, Gwaine had long since decided, were worse than patrol. At least with patrol, he could allow his mind to drift. In training sessions, if Gwaine’s mind drifted for a split second then he would be on his back, winded, before a coherent thought even had time to form.

It was hard enough to keep his thoughts from drifting when Lancelot was beside him in training, let alone when Merlin was also in the vicinity.

Particularly when Merlin was intently watching him. Not that Gwaine really minded Merlin being so close to him; Arthur had recently taken to banning Merlin from the training ground since walking past him, pinned against the back of a target by Gwaine, with his neckerchief woven between Gwaine’s fingers and his shirt halfway up his torso, with Lancelot kneeling down to kiss Merlin’s abdomen. It was a natural reaction for Gwaine: training always made him so aware of his own body and his mind automatically jumped to how it slotted against Merlin’s and Lancelot’s, but Arthur didn’t seem to approve of that particular collision – at least not when he’d been ambushed by it five times in the space of three days. So Gwaine was going to prove that he could finish a training session without making Merlin moan and hopefully persuade Arthur to lift the ban on Merlin watching training sessions permanently.

Merlin, when Gwaine snatched a glance that he promised himself would be the last one, was quietly talking with Elyan, who was sitting out after Percival had accidentally dislocated his partner’s shoulder with the ferocity of his hug after Elyan had escaped, unharmed, from bandits. They looked over at Gwaine at irregular intervals with sly smiles and, judging by the speed at which Elyan’s mouth was moving, Merlin was receiving a summary of all the various references to him Gwaine made when he wasn’t around. Before he turned back around, Gwaine caught Elyan’s eye and scowled lightly at him. Merlin knew that Gwaine had a soft spot for him and Lancelot – which was to be expected when they were in a relationship – but Gwaine was reluctant to expose just to what extent he truly cared for the two of them. Lancelot, of course, knew about how much he cared for Merlin, the two of them having discussed their love for him numerous times on patrol, but Gwaine was always careful not to talk too incessantly about Lancelot when he was within earshot, just in case it became overbearing. Because if Lancelot and Merlin knew that they was the force that pushed each breath out of Gwaine’s body each day, if they knew that every slight touch from their fingertips managed to make the nerves in Gwaine’s skin scream in exhilaration, if they knew that Gwaine would slice his soul into ribbons to bind any wounds Merlin or Lancelot bore, then they would both leave him. The only person Gwaine had ever unloaded his soul to had been his sister, and that bond hadn’t left her any more unwilling to sell him off.

At a call of his name, Gwaine returned to the session and caught Lancelot channelling silent concern in his direction. He shot him a reassuring grin and angled his face towards Leon to demonstrate that he was actually paying attention to what he was saying about the importance of catching the enemy unawares. As much as Gwaine understood that they all needed to be trained to a certain standard, he also had had much practice at catching people unawares throughout his life so far. He himself had been caught unawares, namely by Merlin and Lancelot but in entirely different circumstances, but he could reel off at least nine different methods of a surprise attack off the top of his head, and probably seven more if he had a moment to think about it. Gwaine still had a long way to go, but he wasn’t terrible at the skills a knight required. None of them were, really. Percival had his stupendous strength, Elyan and Lancelot were both light on their feet – though Elyan was comfortable with more weapons than Lancelot was – and Leon, of course, had been a fully-fledged knight for almost two years. And Arthur, of course, was Arthur. They all had their individual strengths, but when they came together they were unstoppable and Gwaine, for the first time in his life, felt like he was part of a singular organism that operated as one. As if he finally had found his settled place in the world.

In his younger years, he had been at the centre of a group, but never part of it. He had been a tool for the bandits he lived with, a means to their ends, a weapon that they could wield whenever they required it. Then, of course, any kinship he might have had with them had been severed when he’d murdered a third of them on his first active mission as an adult. Merlin had been the first person since then whom he had felt a connection with, and Merlin had led him to Lancelot, and then of course the Round Table. There were still moments when he thought Leon could do with being dragged down a peg or two, and moments when Lancelot was far too noble and self-sacrificing to the point where Gwaine had to poke him in the back to check if he still had a spine to stand up for himself (he always made sure to kiss the place he’d touched afterwards just to reassert his love for him), or when Elyan and Percival were too hesitant to attack, or when Arthur was perhaps a bit too harsh on Merlin (Lancelot had held him back from threatening the regent with a knife many times over past treatments that Merlin had flippantly mentioned) but, for the most part, he loved them all. Not that he’d ever dare tell most of them that.

He’d told Merlin that, many times over, in the held breath of the night, in various ways. After that melee, where Gwaine had killed two men and saved Arthur’s life again, when Merlin had been patching Gwaine up as they had waited for Uther’s final judgement, Gwaine had plucked up the courage to tell the servant that he loved him. Not with those exact words, of course, he’d simply said that he had been glad Merlin was safe, but the look in Merlin’s eyes had given him hope. Gwaine had taken that hope and used it as armour against the physical blows that had been dealt between being banished from Camelot and next seeing Merlin. Protecting himself against mental blows had proved to be a bit more of a challenge. And he’d told Lancelot he loved him, many times over too, in the shadows cast by a stirring dawn when Merlin had slipped away in the darkness so as not to get persuaded to stay for a little longer. He’d told Lancelot, one morning, that the Knight’s Code could go to hell and he would live his life by the code that Lancelot and Merlin had written with their fingers across the scroll of Gwaine’s skin. Lancelot had written that down, sliding from Gwaine’s arms, and had said that he should try his hand at poetry, to which Gwaine had murmured something about leaving that to the professionals and enticed the other knight back into his arms.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Gwaine tuned in again just in time to be knocked to the floor as his legs were taken out from beneath him with a very large stick. Groaning, Gwaine squinted up into the sun and tried to make out the silhouette looming over him. ‘Thanks, Lancelot.’

With a soft smirk, Lancelot offered his hand to help pull him up. ‘You shouldn’t have been distracted.’

‘I wasn’t distracted,’ Gwaine grunted, swinging to his feet.

‘What was the last thing Leon said?’

Gwaine’s gaze slid towards the place where Merlin was stood. ‘That everyone take a moment to admire Merlin.’

Shaking his head, Lancelot grinned. ‘I agree that everyone should take a moment to admire Merlin, but Leon didn’t say that. He said to partner up.’

‘I mean...that makes more sense,’ conceded Gwaine, dusting himself off. ‘So we’re just trying to get people on the ground?’

Nodding, Lancelot spun the lance – Gwaine made a mental note to make a joke about that over dinner – in his hands. ‘Preferably with receiving as few blows as possible in the process.’

‘Alright. In that case—’

Gwaine tied back his hair with the string around his wrist and set his jaw, watching Lancelot intensely. They stood for several moments, neither of them daring to make a move first, and held each other’s gaze, silent aside from laboured breaths. Then, Gwaine launched forwards before making a sharp turn and sprinting towards Elyan and Merlin, who had been quietly talking and not paying much attention to the knights on the training field.

Merlin barely had time to cry out before Gwaine’s arms had hooked themselves around his torso and securely trapped him against the ground. Straining his head, he struggled to meet the knight’s eyes and heard Gwaine’s victorious shout towards Lancelot without seeing the expression on his face. He had been having a very engaging discussion with Elyan about healing spells when Gwaine had rudely interrupted, and he had now completely lost his train of thought. He had a habit of losing his train of thought when he was around Gwaine and Lancelot, or thinking about Gwaine and Lancelot, and it had a habit of driving Arthur slightly insane. Especially when he was asking Merlin about his thoughts on which route they should take and Merlin absent-mindedly suggested taking the route along the prominent vein on Gwaine’s forearm in front of the council. Still, it had been a month since he had last done that and Merlin had been doing remarkably well at not getting distracted by either of his knights during this particular training session.

As Gwaine turned around, Merlin saw his grin melt into the smile that was reserved for him and Lancelot alone and the knight shifted so he was sat on top of Merlin, his hands skimming the latter’s shoulders. ‘Did I catch you by surprise?’

‘You did indeed,’ Merlin said, eyes flickering across Gwaine’s body. ‘Was there any particular purpose?’

‘That was the purpose. We had to practise taking the enemy by surprise,’ Gwaine stated, his hand now pushing a path through Merlin’s hair.

Sitting up, Merlin rested his arms on Gwaine’s shoulders. ‘So I’m the enemy?’

‘No, you’re taking the place of the enemy,’ corrected Gwaine, settling his hands on Merlin’s waist.

‘And why hasn’t Lancelot taken the place of the enemy?’

‘Because Lancelot is a much better fighter than you are and would be prepared for a surprise attack.’

‘Which is exactly the point of the exercise,’ Lancelot warmly interrupted, wandering over with the lance resting across his shoulders. He said nothing for several moments more, staring at both of them sat there on the grass, using all the strength he had in him not to join their loose hug. ‘Come on,’ he murmured, instead choosing to kick Gwaine’s ankle gently with his eyes still fixed on Merlin, ‘what did we make a deal about this morning?’

Sighing, Gwaine extracted himself from Merlin. ‘I know, I know. If we go the whole session without making out with Merlin, then we can spend the whole night making up for it, I know.’

‘I am still in earshot,’ Elyan stated, looking between the three of them. ‘You know that, right?’

As Merlin mouthed an apology in Elyan’s direction, Lancelot turned around to glance towards Arthur. He was distracted by a staring contest with Percival, it seemed, and Lancelot took the opportunity to quickly dart over to Merlin and press a kiss to the skin that was illuminated by the sun as it tentatively peered out through the clouds. At Gwaine’s scandalised look, Lancelot shrugged. ‘It wasn’t making out and I never said you couldn’t do the same. Especially since Arthur is not paying attention.’

Grin transforming his face, Gwaine kissed the same spot and allowed his fingers to linger on Merlin’s throat for a suspended second before drawing away and catching Lancelot’s hand as they discreetly returned to their training spot, sharing a brief kiss. As Gwaine’s tongue made its way into Lancelot’s mouth, Lancelot dropped the weapon and moved instinctively closer to Gwaine’s body.

Gwaine took the opportunity to let his hands sneak down to Lancelot’s waist and promptly threw the other knight over his shoulder and onto the ground with a wicked grin. ‘Gotcha.’

Across the field, Merlin was laughing.

#i have not read through this at all so i apologise if there are any mistakes or anything #hope that you like it!!#lit writes #hug prompts #gwaine #lancelot #merwaincelot #merwainecelot #bbc merlin #merlin #merlin fanfic

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supercalvin · 4 years

Note

Hi! I saw your ficlet that you wrote to cheer up someone who came out and didn't have a good experience with it and I was wondering if you could maybe write another one? My girlfriend and I came out at the same time and no one's taking it too well. We're both big fans of Merlin and especially your ficlets. I was wondering if you can write a nice supportive coming out ficlet to maybe cheer her up?

So I will tell you what I said to @ancient-depressed-druid over on that other ficlet: *Immediately drops all other prompts* LOOK AT ME. I’M THE PARENT NOW.

NEVER SPEAK TO ME OR MY KIDS EVER AGAIN

1. I hope you don’t mind that I based on a fic idea my friend gave me. It’s really funny, although it’s not necessarily a ‘coming out fic’ I hope its enough to cheer you both up.

2. This turned out wayyy too long again. Whoops.

3. Did I take 20 min to make that image?? YES I DID

Prompts + Ficlets

***

Balinor arrived at the oral surgeon’s office with a sigh. To say that this was not how Balinor expected to spend his afternoon would be an understatement.

“I’m here to pick up Arthur Pendragon,” He told the receptionist.

There were a lot of things about the last fifteen years of Balinor’s life that he hadn’t expected. For one thing, he hadn’t expected to run into an old flame when he moved to Camelot. He hadn’t expected her to have a little toddler at her ankles who had looked so similar to Balinor it actually knocked the breath out of him the first time he saw Merlin.

He hadn’t expected to fall back in love with Hunith or to suddenly become a full-time Dad as Hunith worked full-time at the local senior home.

He also hadn’t expected when Merlin came out to him, but Hunith had admonished him for not noticing Merlin’s small probing conversation starters before. Balinor had never been very good at social cues. Merlin had gotten all those genes from his mother.

“Da, can Arthur come over after school tomorrow?”

“Who’s Arthur? You’ve not mentioned him before.” Balinor had asked, not looking up from the wood he had been cutting. (Merlin had become an avid reader and needed a new bookshelf in his room. Merlin had said they could just buy one but Balinor had insisted on making one for him.)

“Um…Well… He’s my boyfriend. Maybe.”

Balinor had looked up at that. Merlin had his arms wrapped around himself and he had hovered by the door, as if he was about to run out.

Balinor had nodded, “Fine. But you have to keep your door open when he’s here.”

“Da,” Merlin’s face had been bright red, but he had also looked pleased.

“Get back here,” Balinor had stopped him before Merlin bolted out the door. Balinor had pulled his son into a quick hug and pressed a kiss to his hair. At seventeen years old, Merlin was skinny and soon he would be just as tall as Balinor himself. When that day came, Balinor would miss being able to coddle him so easily.

“Thanks, Da.”

“Don’t be too happy, I haven’t met this Arthur yet.”

On principle, Balinor did not like Arthur. No one would be good enough for Merlin, but especially not some spoiled brat. Hunith liked Arthur, which was the only reason Balinor tolerated Merlin having the kid over as often as he did. It wasn’t that he was mean to Arthur (of course not) it was just that Merlin was the most important thing in Balinor’s life, and there was a high possibility that young love would turn to young heartbreak. Balinor only wished he could spare his son that.

Today, Arthur was getting his wisdom teeth removed and the original plan was for Hunith and Merlin to pick him up. Apparently, Uther was on a business that had been scheduled for the same week as Arthur’s surgery. But then Merlin had had to help his Uncle Gaius at the shop and then there had been an emergency at the senior home and Hunith couldn’t do it.

Which left Balinor.

Balinor was ushered into the back room where Arthur was holding an icepack to his face, eyes glazed over.

“Arthur?” Balinor leant down to catch the boy’s eye.

Arthur blinked a few times and then he seemed to recognize Balinor.

“Mr. Emrysss!” He said with what Balinor assumed was a smile, although his cheeks were so puffed that it was hard to tell. “Ow.”

“Careful of the stitches,” The nurse said. “Maybe get a milkshake, love.”

“Milkshake,” Arthur said with wide eyes, looking up at Balinor.

Shit.

Which is how Balinor found himself driving down the road trying to remember the closest ice cream shop.

“Sorry you got stuck with me. I know you don’t like me.”

Balinor was surprised that despite the slow and slurred speech Arthur seemed aware enough to say this.

“I don’t dislike you. You’re dating my son. I’m just watching out for Merlin.”

“’das fair.” Arthur said and then poked his own cheek a few times.

“Stop that. You’ll pull the stitches.” Balinor pulled his hands away from his face.

Arthur sat on his hands, looking like a scolded five-year-old instead of a bratty teenager.

Arthur still seemed very out of it and didn’t say much for another few minutes. He might have dozed off, but he woke up again when Balinor handed him a vanilla milkshake.

“’hanks”

With a bit of sugar into him, Arthur became decidedly more chatty.

“You know, I really do like Merlin.”

“I would hope so,” Balinor said as he drove.

“I love him, actually. Haven’t told him yet. Scarred.”

Balinor’s heart tugged a bit. He wasn’t heartless. He just worried over Merlin. But he could also recognize that Arthur was also a young boy in the throes of first love too.

“Don’t be scarred of your own feelings, Arthur.” Balinor said, a phrase that he had told Merlin many times before.

“Not what my Dad says. Always tells me to get over it.”

Balinor had only ever met Uther once, but he was starting to really not like the man. Really, what kind of man had a business trip on the same week as his son’s surgery?

“You know, I really respect you.” Arthur said, “You’re always so good to Merlin. And saying things like that about feelings. Even if you’re all stoic. I like that. Wish my Dad was like that instead of just being an asshole. Shit, sorry for cursing.”

Balinor had to hold in a laugh, although it was hard. The poor kid was out of his mind on pain meds.

“You know, when Merlin invites me over on Sundays, and Ms. E makes dinner and we watch a film, it’s like the best thing that happens to me all week.”

At a stop sign, Balinor looked over at Arthur who was cradling his milkshake with reverent hands. He also was looking out the window, not really aware of Balinor. As if he was just saying his internal monologue out loud.

“Sometimes I don’t see my Dad all week and I’m alone in a big house for days in a row.” Arthur said, his voice sounding distant, “Dad doesn’t have a clue about Merlin. He barely knows I’m alive, let alone gay. So I’m glad Merlin has you,” Arthur looked back over at Balinor, suddenly pinning him in his seat with round dilated eyes. “You’re a good Dad. Maybe you don’t like me, but it’s because you want Merlin to have the best. That’s alright by me. I don’t think I’m good enough for Merlin either. But I’ll stick around because he wants me to.”

Balinor cleared his throat and turned back to the road after realizing he had been stopped at a stop sign for over a minute.

***

A week later, Arthur was fully recovering from the surgery and he had no recollection of anything he said to Balinor. As far as he was aware, he got a milkshake, took a nap, and woke up groggy on the Emrys’ front room sofa.

The following Sunday, Arthur was invited to their family dinner. Afterwards, when Arthur offered to do the dishes, Balinor quietly started drying, telling Hunith and Merlin to go pick a film.

There was tension pouring off Arthur in waves.

“We’re going on a family trip to Ireland in the summer,” Balinor said, wiping down a pan.

“Yeah, Merlin told me. Sounds nice,” Arthur said awkwardly.

“You’re invited.”

“What?” Arthur dropped the bowl back into the soapy water with a loud ‘plop.’

Balinor made eye contact with Arthur, who looked utterly baffled. “Do you want to go?”

“I mean…uh,” Arthur blinked.

“It’d be nice for you to come,” Balinor said. “Merlin would be ecstatic. You two could go off sightseeing while Hunith and I visit old friends.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Arthur,” Balinor said, trying to make himself clear. “Merlin didn’t ask me. He doesn’t even know I’m asking you. I’m asking because I want you to come along.”

Arthur nodded. His mouth was still half open in surprise. “Yeah. Um. I’d like that. Thanks.”

“Good,” Balinor dried off another plate and ruffled Arthur’s hair. “Finish up here. Those two are likely picking some horrible film. I need your vote against another historical drama.”

Arthur looked baffled, but he also looked pleased.

Good, Balinor thought. Maybe it wasn’t too bad having another son around the house.

***

Prompts + Ficlets

Balinor said, “Is anyone gonna adopt this kid?” and then didn’t wait for an answer.

#merlin #merthur #merlin fic #merthur fic #ficlets #Anonymous

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little-ligi · 3 years

Text

Whumptober - No. 20

No. 20 - Lost | Field Medicine Fandom - BBC Merlin [Could be read as Merthur slash if you like, or not if you don’t!] Wordcount - 2170

Companion to no. 21 (Hypothermia / Infection)

Arthur shivered, his horse fidgeting as the tremors through his legs nudged against her flanks. But he would not abandon his search.

Merlin had been missing for two days.

He had left Camelot to collect herbs for Gaius yesterday morning but had not returned in the afternoon like Gaius had expected him to. He had not been at the feast that evening, and he had not been in Arthur’s chambers by the time the prince went to bed that night.

After having stormed to Gaius’s chambers and shouted at the physician, Arthur had sullenly got ready for bed by himself and planned an elaborate lecture to give Merlin when he arrived this morning.

Only he hadn’t.

Arthur hadn’t seen him at all. All day long.

At first Arthur had been angry, sure that his lazy manservant had just gone to the tavern instead. But Lancelot had been to all the taverns to check for him and had found nothing except a drunk Gwaine who had tagged along as soon as he found out it was Merlin they were looking for.

Leon had returned from Gaius’s with the news that Gaius had not seen him all day either. That was when Arthur had begun to worry. It wasn’t like Merlin to disappear without even Gaius knowing where he was.

Percival had been given the dreaded task of walking the base of the castle walls, on the off chance Merlin had fallen from the battlements. When he too returned with nothing, Arthur made up his mind. They would go and search the forest.

He’d sent Elyan to saddle the horses and without so much as informing his uncle, Arthur and his knights were riding out into the growing dusk.

They had now been scouring the forest for a few hours, searching any area that Gaius said contained the herbs he needed. An hour or so ago it had started raining, heavily, and they had still not found a single clue as to where Merlin could be.

“Sire?” Leon approached him on foot, leading his horse by the reins. He had his cloak wrapped securely around his torso but was still shivering as the rain dripped off his sodden hair. “We should make camp, build a fire…”

“No. We haven’t found him.”

“And we shan’t if we all freeze to death,” Leon said calmly.

Arthur scowled. “Not yet,” he said with a finality Leon didn’t dare disobey.

Leon remounted his horse and they continued along the forest path.

The rain had washed away any traces of footprints or crushed plants that might have indicated Merlin’s passing route. And it was almost too dark to see, even the light of the nearly full moon being blocked out by the tree cover.

Eventually, Arthur slumped forwards in his saddle and admitted that Leon was probably right. He glanced back at the tall knight and nodded, swinging his leg over his horse and sliding off. He staggered as he landed, his legs cramping from the cold.

“Steady, Sire.” Lancelot was instantly at Arthur’s side, pulling Arthur’s arm around his shoulder and guiding him over to a fallen tree trunk.

“He’s still lost,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lancelot didn’t reply but Arthur caught the expression on his face. Lancelot was equally as pained as Arthur was by Merlin’s absence.

Arthur put his head in his hands as the knights began setting up the camp around him; Leon building a fire in the shelter of a thickly branched oak tree, Elyan and Percival removing the saddles and brushing the horses. Lancelot pulled bread from a saddlebag and handed some to Arthur.

Gwaine had slumped to the floor beside another tree, bruise darkening over his eyebrow. Despite how drunk he had been when Lancelot had found him earlier in the evening he had insisted he come with them. The freezing rain had done a little to sober him up, but he had still managed to fall off his horse in a daze. Arthur hadn’t had the patience to care at the time and had shouted at the knight, leaving him quiet and grumpy.

Lancelot tried to pass Gwaine some bread too but he waved it away.

“I’ll go and fetch water,” Lancelot said to no one in particular. Arthur grunted a reply.

He pulled his knees up to his chest and stared into the bundle of twigs Leon was using as kindling, they were smoking and spitting as he tried to light them with his dagger and flint. They were too wet.

Arthur let his chin fall onto his crossed arms on his knees with a sigh. Merlin always managed to get a fire going, even if the sticks were wet. It was a skill he’d never bothered to teach the knights. They’d never needed to know, Merlin was always with them.

A small flame burst to life and Leon coaxed it into the rest of the sticks. Elyan and Percival came over to sit beside the fire, sticking their hands out towards the meagre warmth.

How had Merlin got lost? Arthur couldn’t help thinking it again. The question had been spiralling his mind all night. Merlin had an uncanny sense of direction, and he knew these forests almost as well as Arthur himself did. He couldn’t have simply wandered off and lost his way. He must be hurt.

Arthur grabbed a stick and begun stabbing at the fire. Leon sent him a look but didn’t say anything.

“Arthur! ARTHUR!” Lancelot’s voice came through the trees so suddenly and unexpectedly that all of them leapt to their feet, drawing their swords. Even Gwaine stumbled up, though the movement made him clutch his head.

Arthur started in the direction Lancelot’s voice came from, ignoring the cramp in his leg that was screaming to make itself known. The other knights followed behind him quickly. He broke through the trees towards a stream.

“Arthur, he’s here!”

Lancelot was several yards downstream from their camp, half way up the bank on the other side of the water. He turned to look over his shoulder and nodded to Arthur. Arthur spotted the flash of red fabric.

Thank goodness Merlin hadn’t been wearing his dirty brown jacket or they never would have noticed him.

He scrabbled down the bank and across the stream, using his sword for balance. The water was freezing, the sting of the cold washing over the top of his boots and making him gasp. Lancelot looked relatively dry; he’d had the sense and forethought to jump the stream.

Once on the other side Arthur battled against vines and ferns to get to the hollowed out ground where a tree had fallen, its roots sticking upwards like a wall of soil. Merlin was huddled in the hollow and he looked awful.

“Merlin!” Lancelot was already on his knees beside Merlin, patting his face gently. Merlin moaned but didn’t move. “He’s alive,” Lancelot almost laughed with relief.

Arthur crouched down, examining Merlin critically. He was pale, too pale. His skin had a sheen of sweat across it along with the pallor. He was shaking badly and his tunic and breeches were damp.

His jacket lay discarded a few feet away, beside the remnants of a small fire which had long since gone out. And his neckerchief was off, wrapped around his leg. Arthur could see the edges of an angry red wound through the rip in his breeches and blood had seeped through the dark blue cloth.

Lancelot gently poked around the makeshift bandage on Merlin’s leg. It was tightly wadded and tied over a mush of strong smelling leaves.

“He’s managed to make a poultice for himself.” Lancelot smiled fondly. “Gaius would be proud.”

That explained the open satchel and herbs strewn across the ground beside Merlin, and the two stones covered in some sort of sticky mess.

“Did you hear that, Merlin?” Arthur said, injecting some of his usual teasing into his tone, trying to get a response. “Someone would actually be proud of you.” Merlin gave no reaction and Arthur sighed. He patted his cheek again. “Merlin? Merlin!”

“Is he…?” Gwaine called across the stream.

“Alive!” Lancelot shouted back. “But injured. It looks infected, he’s unconscious.”

“We’re going to bring him back to our camp,” Arthur said, turning and nodding to Lancelot.

He hooked his hands under Merlin’s armpits, wrapping his arms around his chest. Lancelot grabbed his legs and they lifted him easily. Merlin moaned again, throwing his head from side to side against Arthur’s shoulder.

They carefully moved down the side of the bank. Percival waded into the stream to steady them as they carried him across. Gwaine’s mouth fell open at the sight of Merlin, his eyebrows tugging low over his eyes.

“Go and get his bag and jacket,” Arthur snapped. Gwaine stumbled across the river to obey him. Lancelot shot Arthur a reproving look. “What?”

“Don’t be so harsh,” Lancelot said quietly.

“He looked gormless. He shouldn’t drink so much,” Arthur grumbled. He wanted to be angry at someone, he didn’t know exactly why.

Elyan had run ahead and laid out the saddle blankets on the ground by the fire, sheltered from the rain by the oak tree, ready for Arthur and Lancelot to put Merlin down on. They laid him down as gently as they could, but he still groaned and jerked away from their hands.

Leon and Elyan peered over Lancelot’s shoulder.

“Is he alright?” Elyan asked.

“He will be,” Arthur gritted out through his teeth. There was no other choice. Merlin had to be alright.

Quick footsteps heralded Gwaine running back to them, Merlin’s jacket and bag slung over his arm.

“His jacket’s damp,” he said, laying it down beside the fire. He reached over and grabbed a fistful of Merlin’s tunic. “That’s damp too.”

Without saying anything else he dumped Merlin’s bag of herbs and pulled his own rain soaked jacket off, then his dry shirt. He held it out to Arthur, shrugging.

“Thank you, Gwaine,” Lancelot said when Arthur just looked at him blankly. “Help me get his off.”

Arthur lifted Merlin carefully into a sitting position and Lancelot and Gwaine pulled his tunic off, replacing it with Gwaine’s warm dry one. Merlin’s eyelids fluttered and he mumbled something.

“Merlin!” Arthur slid a hand under Merlin’s head and cupped his face, his thumb putting a soft pressure against Merlin’s cheek.

“’thur…”

Arthur couldn’t stop the grin spreading over his face.

“What have you done to yourself this time, Merlin?”

“Hurt…” Merlin’s hand made a vague gesture towards his leg, then flopped back to the ground.

“Yeah, I saw that,” Arthur told him. He looked up, meeting Leon’s eyes.

Leon crouched beside Lancelot. Lancelot held Merlin’s leg, his hands gentle, whilst Leon untied the neckerchief. The wound underneath was jagged and very red, Leon looked a little alarmed. Lancelot frowned, his fingers tightening on Merlin’s thigh.

“That is definitely infected,” Leon said, tossing the blood and poultice smeared neckerchief down on the ground. He put a hand on Merlin’s forehead. “He’s lucky he’s not running a fever.”

“Do you think he tried to cool himself down in the river?” Gwaine asked, holding up the damp shirt.

“Nnn,” Merlin murmured, his eyes peeling open a fraction. “Fell in.”

“You fell in?” Arthur asked incredulously. “Good grief, you’re so clumsy.”

Merlin’s mouth quirked into a small smile. The knights all echoed it.

Percival returned from the river holding several waterskins. “Fresh water.”

He held one out to Leon who took it and began cleaning Merlin’s cut. Merlin tried to arch away from him, but Arthur and Lancelot held him still.

“Easy, Merlin. We’ll look after you,” Lancelot said comfortingly and Merlin shot him another smile.

Gwaine knelt beside Arthur. He’d put his wet jacket back on over his bare chest and was shivering slightly. But he tried not to show it as he gripped Merlin’s hand.

“Can’t go without our favourite little Merlin, now can we?”

That got a tiny puff of a laugh from Merlin before he cried out and writhed away from Leon as the tall knight poured more water over his leg.

“Sorry.” He looked up at Merlin grimly.

Percival dug in Merlin’s satchel, handing Leon some yarrow leaves, which he placed over the wound before tying a strip of cloth over it.

“We need to get him back to Gaius,” Leon said to Arthur.

“Of course. We’ll rest for an hour, then get straight back.” He waved a hand and the knights began to move over to sit around the fire. “Alright, Merlin?” Arthur asked, looking down into the slightly clouded blue eyes that had started to droop.

“Mmm,” Merlin muttered in acquiescence. “Thank you f’ findin’ me,” he slurred, silly grin spreading slowly over his face.

“You’re welcome,” Arthur said quietly so none of the knights would hear. He let his thumb brush Merlin’s cheek as he resettled his hand behind his neck.

He wouldn’t have known what to do if Merlin had been lost.

#whumptober2020 #no. 20 #lost #field medicine #bbc merlin #fanfiction #fic #merlin whump #healing herbs #knights of the round table #merthur #ligi writes #i mean it could almost be lancelin or merwaine if you wanted it to be

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bgnmagic · 3 years

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Frozen Dreams - Merlin Fanfic

Summary: MODERN AU

Arthur, Merlin, and the boys (the knights) rent a cottage by the sea during winter to take a break for a bit. The only problem is when Merlin discovers the heat in his room is broken and he nearly freezes to death on the first night. Arthur comes to the rescue and helps him warm up.

Notes:

All I wanted to do was whump my boi Merlin. Hence this odd premise of renting a cottage by the sea with malfunctioning heating, in winter no less. Places can be fun to visit in winter too! lol I also wanted more bromance, they are so soft with each other I just can't help it. Pretend it's shippy if you want but I'm all for them being nice and sweet cause they are besties.

----

A heavy thump roused Arthur from sleep. Unsure if what he’d heard was merely part of his dream, he waited. Turning over to face the door Arthur shivered despite being covered in a down comforter. This place felt abnormally frigid; hopefully the rest of their trip would still be fun. After a few minutes Arthur didn’t hear anything else and decided to go back to sleep. It was far too cold to go outside in the hallway to investigate anyway.

Burrowing down into the bedding Arthur let his eyes slip closed. Then, he heard it again; there was something or someone in the hallway. Who in their right mind would be out in the middle of the night trying to break into their rental cottage? Everyone had drunk enough at dinner to be passed out right now. Easing out from under the covers Arthur bit back a hiss at the cold floor. Even wearing socks didn’t help dampen the sensation.

Sneaking over to the door he listened, but it was silent save for an odd chattering noise. Great, did they have a mouse problem to deal with as well? Unfortunately, nothing prepared Arthur for what he saw when he slowly pulled the bedroom door open.

“Merlin?!” he half whispered in shock. His friend was sitting partially crumpled on the floor, hugging himself and shaking. Upon hearing his name Merlin lifted his head and looked about ready to cry. It was too dim in the hallway to really see clearly but it seemed as though Merlin was wearing his coat over his pajamas. “What’s happened? Are you hurt?” Arthur tried again. Merlin shook his head and attempted to shrug, although it looked more like an invisible force was shaking him violently.

Springing into action Arthur grabbed Merlin by his arms and hauled him upright. The younger man barely held his own weight as Arthur dragged him into his room and set Merlin down on the edge of the bed. Reaching out Arthur nearly knocked over the bedside lamp fumbling with the switch. When a soft yellow light set the room aglow, Arthur felt his insides twist. Merlin looked terrible.

His friend was pale and his lips almost looked blue. Panicking for a moment that Merlin had gone outside Arthur began checking for injuries. Maybe he’d been sleepwalking? However, they’d been friends for years and Merlin had never admitted to such behavior. Finding nothing out of place after a cursory check Arthur decided to address the most pressing matter, Merlin was freezing.

“Come on let’s get you warmed up okay?” Taking stock of what Merlin was wearing revealed a thin pair of cotton pants and a button down flannel shirt. All of this had been topped off with Merlin’s ridiculously large puffy down coat. “Um, can we switch out the coat for something less bulky?” Arthur asked as he held Merlin by the shoulders. The lack of response was beginning to concern Arthur. It was almost as if Merlin had checked out mentally.

Too focused on Merlin’s well-being Arthur flinched when the door suddenly creaked and opened. Lancelot poked his head in looking a little worse for wear, “Wha’s going on?”

“Merlin’s not well, you can help actually,” Arthur replied reaching out and dragging Lancelot into the space. “I found him in the hallway a few minutes ago and he’s nearly frozen. What’s the best way to help him warm up?”

Lancelot sobered immediately once he laid eyes on Merlin’s still shaking form; he took his job as a nurse seriously even when he wasn’t at work. “Do you have a spare jumper? Extra layers will help considerably. Then we can get him back to bed with some more blankets.”

“No, no, no, m’n-not going b-back in that ice b-box,” Merlin exclaimed, shaking his head vehemently.

Relieved that Merlin was at least communicating with them now, Arthur was still confused. “What are you going on about?”

“My r-room, is fre-freezing, c-can’t sleep.”

“I’ll go check, you help him change okay,” Lancelot offered before he disappeared through the door.

“P-please don’t kick me o-out,” Merlin begged.

“Idiot, I’m not going to kick you out. My bed is big enough, we can share.” Merlin slumped in relief and nearly fell off the bed in the process. Scrambling to catch him Arthur sat down and put an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “Get that lumpy coat off and I’ll give you a nice cozy jumper instead.”

Merlin nodded and shrugged out of his coat. Arthur was already in motion, peeling off his own jumper; it was warm and just what Merlin needed.

‘C-can’t take this, it—it’s yours,” Merlin protested weakly.

“Shut up and put it on, I’ve got more.”

Merlin didn’t argue as he took the garment and quickly tugged it over his head. The small smile that graced Merlin’s trembling lips was enough to spur Arthur onto his next plan.

“Get under the covers, no need to be sitting here when you could be getting even warmer.” Guiding Merlin backward Arthur pulled the covers aside and watched as his friend burrowed into the bedding.

“R’thur, this is s-so warm,” Merlin mumbled quietly.

“I know, I’ll grab another blanket, just stay there,” Arthur was happy he’d thought to tuck Merlin into his side of the bed. It was already warm from earlier. Lancelot came back when Arthur was unfurling the last extra blanket he could find over Merlin. The look on Lancelot’s face was worrying. “What’s wrong?” Arthur asked.

“The heat stopped working in that room, plus I found a draft. A whole chunk of one of the window frames is missing. The curtain was hiding it!” Lancelot hissed. “No wonder Merlin was freezing, that room really is an ice box.”

“Shit, he could have frozen --, “Arthur trailed off, he didn’t want to think about the worst case scenario if Merlin hadn’t woken up in time.

“Keep an eye on him tonight and make sure he warms up, if anything changes come get me,” Lancelot instructed.

“Should we be worried about Merlin getting sick or anything?” Arthur asked.

“Merls, how ya feeling bud, any better?” Lancelot asked of the lump on the bed, by way of an answer.

“M’warmmmm,” was the garbled response.

“Tell us if you need anything okay?”

“Mhmmm, m’good now, m’warm.”

“I think you found him in time, we can talk more in the morning. One thing is certain no one is sleeping in that room. It’s not habitable in this weather,” said Lancelot.

“Oh, I’ll be calling about that in the morning, this is unacceptable,” Arthur huffed.

Lancelot nodded and went back to his room. It appeared they’d not woken anyone else up, that was a blessing. Arthur knew Merlin hated to be the center of attention. Turning back to his friend all Arthur could see what a tuft of black hair sticking out. Merlin had made himself a cocoon with the blankets, guess he was feeling better.

Quickly grabbing another jumper Arthur wasted no time in crawling back into bed and turning off the light. No sooner had the room plunged into darkness did Arthur feel something cold touch his hand under the covers. “God Merlin your fingers are still ice,” he hissed. Taking Merlin’s hand in his own he held it tight. Merlin didn’t say anything but Arthur felt him squeeze back once or twice.

After a few minutes Arthur deemed his job complete and let go only to have the other hand thrust his way. Smiling Arthur took hold and warmed it up as well. “I’m not holding your feet, so don’t get any ideas,” he teased. Merlin snorted softly but kept quiet.

When Merlin’s hand wasn’t ice cold anymore Arthur assumed they’d both go back to sleep, but the younger man kept fidgeting next to him. Something was still on his mind. “Are you warmed up yet?” Arthur checked.

“Mostly, but can I um, can we um, sleep back to back?”

“I’m onto you Merlin, you’re trying to leach more of my body heat off me,” Arthur complained halfheartedly as he turned around in the bed to do as Merlin asked. The minute Merlin’s lithe frame leaned into him Arthur heard a content sigh. When two cold feet started to tangle with his own legs Arthur flinched but stayed put. “How are you this cold?!”

“Dunno, but this feels really nice.”

“Think you can sleep now?”

“Yeah, thanks for helping, I was so cold I didn’t know what to do,” Merlin admitted.

“Don’t worry about it, you know you can always come to me for help, you’re my best friend Merlin.”

“I know, I didn’t want to bother you though, I --,” Merlin paused to yawn loudly before he went quiet.

“You what?” Arthur asked, “Did you fall asleep over there?”

“Hmmm, ur’warm.”

Chuckling Arthur shook his head and gave up trying to continue the conversation, Merlin was clearly very tired. “Go to sleep, we’ll talk more in the morning.” A faint hummed acknowledgement was all Arthur received followed by the sound of Merlin’s breathing evening out. Thanking god he’d found Merlin in time, Arthur pushed back a little more and wrapped the blanket tightly around his shoulders. The extra warmth from Merlin helped lull Arthur back to sleep.

Something heavy on his chest prevented Merlin from taking a full breath. Struggling to move he soon realized the great weight he was feeling was Arthur. The man was tucked neatly under Merlin’s chin with most of his upper body pinning him in place. Their legs were tangled together and if Merlin were being honest, he’d have to say this was the best way to wake up, warm.

Wondering if Arthur would agree with this sentiment he stopped moving and enjoyed the feeling. Last night had been terrible; this little moment of bliss was well deserved. The room he’d picked seemed fine during the day but once the sun had gone down it got down right unbearable. Stupid cottage by the sea, this was supposed to be a fun getaway with his friends, not a death wish.

A soft knock on the door roused Merlin from his thoughts. Answering back he waited to see who would appear. Lancelot came into a view a second later and smiled when he saw them. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“So much better, I don’t ever want to go through that again, I’ve never been so cold in my life.”

“Do you need some help moving him?” Lancelot laughed pointing at Arthur.

“Noooo, he’s my human blanket at the moment, if you take him away I’ll get cold again,” Merlin whined.

“He’s not gonna stay that way forever, I think he was really wanting to explore the cliffs down by the beach later today.”

“All well and good Lance, but I’m not waking him up.”

Lancelot laughed and shook his head, “you’ve been warned. I’m going to go see about getting some breakfast started, I’m hoping Leon will get up soon and come help. Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival probably won’t be getting up anytime soon after all the shots they had last night.”

“That’s what they get for playing a drinking game!” Merlin huffed. “They’ll be in bed till noon most likely.”

“Hey don’t pick on them too much, it’s nearly eleven and you’re still in bed.”

“Is it really that late? Wow, I guess I was more exhausted than I realized.”

Arthur suddenly groaned and lightly pinched Merlin in the side, “Shut up, m’tryin to sleep. Lance, go away you’re makin’ my pillow move!”

Merlin rolled his eyes for good measure even though Arthur couldn’t see. After sharing a look with Lancelot he kindly waved him off and settled back into the pillows. “Can I sleep in here for the rest of the trip? I’m worried it’ll be cold downstairs if I try and sleep on the sofa.”

“Merlin, what did I just say? Shhhhhhh, and where else would you sleep, idiot, it’s ten times warmer when we share anyway.”

“Prat,” Merlin mumbled softly already drifting off again.

“Clotpole,” replied back Arthur fondly.

Merlin was far too gone to argue that ‘clotpole’ was his word. That conversation would have to wait until breakfast, or lunch for that matter. He was warm and relaxed. Maybe this little vacation wouldn’t be so bad after all. https://archiveofourown.org/works/33627802

#merlin #fanfic #bromance

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stressed-and-queer · 8 months

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Here, have a Merthur fic I started and had big ideas for but never completed!

"Explain to me one more time where we're going," Arthur asks, poking at the fire with a stick. Merlin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stares at Arthur.

"We're going to the place where magic began, the Crystal Cave. It's located in the Valley of the Fallen Kings," Merlin explains, keeping it nice and short. This had to have been the fifth time Arthur has asked him where they were going. It was starting to get on his nerves.

"And we're going because, what, your magic has a hunch," Arthur says almost jokingly. Merlin groans, glaring at Arthur.

"Look, make fun of it all you want, my magic is trying to tell me something. Three nights in a row I dreamed of that place, I can't explain it but my magic is telling me to go there," Merlin says, continuing to glare at Arthur.

A small smirk falls on Arthur's face as his eyes widen for a moment, his eyebrows raising and going back down,a slight nod of his head. All in all, Arthur was basically looking at him like he was crazy. Merlin rolls his eyes and sighs.

"You've got to understand how all of this sounds Merlin," Arthur says.

"What, crazier than when I told you that I had magic," Merlin smirks.

"Well, you didn't exactly tell me you had magic," Arthur corrects.

"Well, you're alive because of it aren't you," Merlin shoots back.

"I would have survived just fine on my own," Arthur growls.

"Sure you would have, what with your hands being held behind your back and a sword pressed against your neck. You definitely would have gotten out of that one sire, " Merlin mocks.

"Oh shut up,"

"No I don't think I will,"

"Merlin,"

Merlin can't help but laugh at how easy it is to annoy Arthur. The king glaring at him from across the fire. There's a slight breeze making the fire rise but only for a moment. And the two just look at each other, Arthur leans forward, his gaze softening as a small smile adorns his face. Arthur, whose face is kissed by the light of the fire, casting a shadow on parts of his face and making his lips seem softer than they probably were. Made the red on his cheeks stand out and made it look as if the king was blushing. The fire made his eyes seem lighter than they were, making his hair shine and his armor glow.

Arthur looks beautiful like this Merlin decides as a soft smile of his own reaches his lips. He admires his king from across the fire and it's almost as if the two are lost in their own thoughts. Merlin breaks the eye contact by looking at the ground before glancing at Arthur.

"We should rest, we might make it to the

Valley of the Fallen Kings by noon if we wake up early enough," Merlin says, snapping Arthur out of his thoughts. Arthur clears his throat as he sits up straight.

"Yes, we should rest," he agrees, getting up. They have blankets tossed on the ground a little bit away from the campfire. close enough so that they can still feel the heat after it's been put out but far enough where they wouldn't catch on fire. Arthur stands up as he grabs the belt that has his sword on it, sitting neatly in its sheath. He makes his way to his blanket, setting his sword down next to it, Merlin watching him. Arthur always sleeps with his sword next to him, the king told him it was in case they were ambushed at night. He would be ready to draw his sword. At first, Merlin thought it silly that Arthur sleeps with his sword. And then Arthur explained why and Merlin understood.

Arthur relies on his sword much like Merlin relies on his magic. He uses it as if it was a second arm, knowing exactly what moves to make without even thinking. He's able to swing it around without a second thought, able to guess his enemy's move before they make it. It's what made Arthur such a great knight. It's much like how Merlin uses his magic as well. How Merlin doesn't have to say a spell to make his eyes glow gold. Levitating objects is like second nature to him. Much like Arthur with his sword, Merlin doesn't think when he uses his magic. And when faced with an enemy, he uses his magic as if on reflex. So he understands why Arthur sleeps with his sword by his side.

Merlin returns his focus to the fire and with a glow of his eyes, the fire slowly dies down. Merlin makes his way to his own blanket that sat next to Arthur's. The king layed down on his blanket, just looking up through the trees. His arms behind his head, propping it up. His eyes follow Merlin, watching as he settles down on his own blanket.

"Goodnight Arthur," Merlin says, resting his head on the ground.

"Goodnight Merlin," Arthur replies.

It's almost silent for a couple of minutes, only the sound of crickets filling their ears. The occasional pinecone falling and breaking the fragile sticks on the ground. Nocturnal animals and beasts alike roaming the forest. And then;

"I can't sleep,"

Merlin sighs as he opens his eyes.

"You haven't even tried," he points out.

"Yeah well, I know I won't be able to sleep," Arthur says in a matter of fact tone. Merlin groans as he flips over to his side, now looking at Arthur. The king had also flipped over, resting his cheek in his hand to prop his head up.

"I can say a spell to get you to sleep if you like," Merlin says with a small smirk. Arthur rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

"No no, let's talk," he suggests. Merlin sighs, extending out his hand and creating a blue ball of light so he could see Arthur. Arthur, who's eyes widen with recognition as he sees the ball of light.

"That looks like the light I saw in the Cave of Bailor, where I got the Mortaeus Flower," Arthur says.

"It is," is all Merlin says.

"So that was you then, who guided me to the flower," Arthur says.

"I wanted you to leave," Merlin huffs. Arthur just chuckles, shaking his head.

"You were dying Merlin, I wasn't going to leave without that flower," Arthur says.

"I know, you're a stubborn prat," Merlin smirks. Arthur rolls his eyes at the insult.

"Merlin, what do you hope to find in this cave," Arthur asks, with genuine curiosity in his eyes.

"The crystals, they can show me the future," Merlin explains, waiting for Arthur to laugh at what he said. But laughter never comes, instead Arthur looks more curious at what he said. A sort of realization on his face.

"You've been there before, haven't you," Arthur says and Merlin nods.

"It was back when we got ambushed by bandits and you had gotten injured. You had almost died," Merlin says, swallowing the lump in his throat at the thought of Arthur laying there, dying.

"But you saved me," Arthur half asks.

"No actually, this person named Tailesen healed you,my magic wasn't strong enough at the time. He's the one who showed me the Crystal Cave and told me to look into the crystals," Merlin explained.

"What did you see," Arthur asks.

"Morgana's plot to kill Uther. My attempts to stop it made a self fulfilling prophecy," Merlin said with a bit of annoyance for himself.

"How so," Arthur questions.

"The knife, you were originally going to give Morgana, that plain one. The only reason you gave her the pretty one was because I said something. Because I saw that exact knife in one of the visions the crystals showed me," Merlin explains. Arthur nods his head, brows furrowed.

"So how can you be so sure the same thing won't happen," Arthur points out.

"I'm not, but if my magic is telling me to go there, it must be for a good reason," Merlin says.

"Well, I trust you," Arthur says after a few moments. He smiles at Merlin, his smile turning into a small yawn.

"Finally ready to go to bed Arthur," Merlin jokes.

"Yes actually," Arthur says, laying down on his back once more. Merlin makes the light disappear as he makes himself as comfortable as he could.

"Goodnight Merlin," Arthur calls from the dark.

"Goodnight Arthur,"

Morning comes faster than Merlin would like. The sound of the birds chirping waking him up. He opens his eyes, blinking a few times to get rid of the clouded vision and the tiredness. He slowly sits up, a yawn escaping him as he stretches his arms, feeling his shoulders pop and his back crack. He smacks his mouth a couple of times before opening his eyes once more.To his surprise, it's Arthur standing in front of him, his stuff already packed and on the horses.

"Wait, how are you up before me," Merlin asks, the shock evident in his voice.

"I am capable of waking up by myself you know," Arthur rolls his eyes. It's only then that Merlin sees the dead rabbit in his hands. Probably their breakfast if Merlin had to guess.

"Just how long had you been awake before me," Merlin asks, eyeing Arthur,

"Well, the sun was just starting to rise so I'd say an hour at most," Arthur explains.

"An hour!" Merlin exclaims.

"Yes, that is what I said," Arthur confirms with a bit of a taunt.

"But how," Merlin asks, still in shock that Arthur woke up before him.

"We've been through this before. Even with magic your brain is the size of a walnut isn't it, and that's being generous," Arthur says with a slight irritation. Merlin rolls his eyes at the insult, getting up and taking the rabbit from Arthurs hands.

"I suppose this is breakfast," Merlin says.

"Look at that, your walnut brain does work," Arthur muses, grabbing Merlin's blanket and rolling it up. Merlin decides to ignore that as he goes to the fire that had been set up the night before. With a glow of his magic and a soft whoosh there's a spark and a fire roaring in just mere seconds. He sets the rabbit down and goes over to the backpack that hung from the side of the horse. He searches inside and pulls out a knife.

Skinning the animal was by far his second least favorite part. The first being killing the animal in the first place. He looks at the dead animal with that of sympathy, even though it's already dead. His hand gripping the hilt of the knife, yet not making a move. He doesn't notice Arthur walk up behind him, the leaves crunching under his footsteps. Arthur places his hand on top of Merlin's, specifically the one that's holding the knife. Merlin understands instantly and hands the knife over to Arthur, who takes the dead rabbit from Merlins hands and starts skinning the animal himself.

#fanfic #slight spoilers #cw: mentions of skinning an animal #bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #arthur knows about Merlins magic #mentions to past episodes #hints at Merthur #unfinished

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up-in-my-bunghole · 4 years

Text

Dear writers of BBC’s Merlin:

It would be such a pleasure if you would just grow the fuck up and deal with the romantic and sexual tension you’ve created between Merlin and Arthur and just let them be gay for each other, you cowards.

Here’s some ideas to spice up the show with some Merthur content:

Merlin loses control of his magic after losing a great deal (probably a loved one) and he makes an explosion of destructive magic around him in his distress and he can’t calm it back down again. People try to approach him but they only end up flung aside, and they have no idea how to handle him. Until Arthur comes in, and he starts to walk toward Merlin successfully. Everyone sits silent as they watch, Arthur only focused on his friend as he comes face to face with his golden eyes and blue sparks of heat (I imagine an electric blowout). Slowly, Arthur talks to him in a way that only he can do, actually being sincere and gentle with his words (although a few jabs slip, it doesn’t hurt Merlin’s feelings or make it worse, bc that’s just who Arthur is). He reaches out and takes his hand, feeling the prickle of sparks in his palm, but Merlin starts to settle with his presence, the glow in his eyes flickering ever so slightly. Eventually, Arthur comes in to hug him and bring him down all the way, and Merlin is back to normal.

Another magic one would be when Arthur is surrounded and has no hope for survival against his enemies, but Merlin stands in front of him just as they unleash their forces and deflects them all with a blast wave of pure power. He picks them off one by one, ruthlessly to save his king. After no one else is left standing or breathing in front of Merlin, he turns around to see Arthur completely blown away with a dismal “wow” and he gets up to kiss him as his reward.

A scene where Merlin and Arthur stand together at the final battle, gazing into the eye of the storm and knowing the chance that they will live to tell the tale is near impossible. With their last moments of solemnity, they link their hands, lean their foreheads together, and say their last goodbyes before they charge out into war.

For the past few days, Merlin has been getting these mystical pains (like a headache or some magical shit like that), and it’s been hindering him from completing his duties. Arthur notices it and bashes him for it, calling him a wimp and a girl. Merlin has a snarky remark to throw back in the beginning, but soon he doesn’t have the energy to respond. Over the days, he becomes more and more reclusive, and although Arthur notices, he doesn’t let up from his chores. Until one day, when he’s yelling at Merlin about the state of his bed chambers, Merlin yells out in delirious pain and then collapses with it, crying out in agony before passing out. Gaius is called to see him and he discovers that he has an inflammation of his meninges (the jello around the brain) ((or some other illness like that)) and Arthur finally realizes all the harm he’s done and how far he pushes Merlin. Once he recovers, Arthur apologizes and makes up for his shit behavior.

After all of Merlin’s rough battles and adventures and losses, Arthur is once again being a stick up his ass and walloping him about petty shit when Merlin has had enough. He snaps. Instead of taking all of Arthur’s insulting nagging, he fights back this time. Merlin is thrashing out at him, yelling and clawing with a fury in his eyes that almost flashes gold as he spills with rage. He lets go of all of it, all of the strife and pain and anger and loss. Hot, burning tears scald his cheeks, and he burns with them. Once it’s all out, once his tears can no longer pour and his voice has gone raw, he stuffs it back up, turns away from Arthur, and leaves him in his bedchamber with a stiff goodbye. All night, Arthur lays awake with Merlin’s voice in his head, haunted by his profound suffering that he was barely aware of. The next day, when Merlin silently serves his breakfast and starts to straighten up his linens, he whispers and ‘I’m sorry’ just behind him. Merlin only murmurs that it’s fine and an apology of his own for lashing out, but Arthur doesn’t take it. He turns Merlin around to face him, and he sees all the pain from yesterday still stowed away in his eyes. The only thing he can think to do is pull him to his chest and give him a hug with another ‘I’m sorry’ said next to Merlin’s ear. He can’t hold it all in anymore, and Merlin grips back with a choked, relieved sigh. Arthur says to never speak of this again. Merlin nods, but he can’t help but smile. Arthur smiles. too.

Or, Arthur comes storming into his chambers with his head about to explode with rage after a fight with his father, and a devastating loss. Merlin is in there polishing his armor or something when he sees stuff flying across the room and hears Arthur just about roaring in fury. When Merlin asks him what in the hell he’s on about, he gets a full face of a furious, unhinged Arthur. He’s throwing things, he’s tugging his hair, and he’s completely losing control.With every time that Merlin tries to talk some sense into him, he only burns up more until Merlin finally yells at him to please tell him what’s going on, and Arthur starts to yell again, but he can’t help it anymore. He starts to cry from everything his father has done, and everything he’s seen happen by his order and stood by. The things he’d done by his fathers side, even if it hurt his soul, and of course, his mother. He couldn’t take any more of it. Arthur can’t hide the tears welling in his eyes, Merlin stunned into worried silence at his outburst. After he lets Arthur have a moment, Merlin walks up to him and wraps his arms around his king, and just hugs him, letting Arthur let it all out. Once he’s settled enough and Merlin lets him go, Arthur whispers a thank you, to which he replies ‘of course, Sire’.

Just imagine that Merlin is secretly sparring with the other knights of the round table (probably Gwaine and Lancelot) to kick Arthur in the ass later. His time off is spent in the fields with a sword in hand, and Merlin has gotten pretty good. As Arthur is prowling the castle for his servant, he finds himself in the training yard to see Merlin with Gwaine, sparring. At first Arthur laughs, as he’s expecting Merlin’s rear end pummeled to the ground in the next few seconds. But Merlin has gotten quick, and although his clumsy demeanor is ever present, he’s actually very smooth. Arthur freezes right then and there as Merlin sweeps Gwaine off his feet and presses the sword to his chest, suddenly feeling flushed. When Merlin finds out that Arthur had been watching the whole time (with an awkward, witty little wave) Arthur can’t find the words, only nodding to him and turning tail. Merlin’s face soon turns red after, and Gwaine is a little shit about it and fucks around with Merlin and teases him endlessly.

Or, another fun one. Merlin got some shit or something spilled on him and he rushes into his room to get changed. Unbeknownst to Arthur, who speeds past Gaius and into Merlin’s room to behold.... Merlin, in nothing but his undergarments. And holy shit, Arthur was not prepared to see that. Merlin never takes off his tunic, much less his trousers. Never. Arthur hadn’t even seen his bare skin past his forearms. So to see his chest in plain sight, and his stomach and hips and shoulders and thighs is just... *poof*. Arthur has lost it. Merlin turns around and notices him there and yanks his sheet to his chest with a confused hello, trying to hide his red cheeks. Arthur is quick with a bullshit explanation and hightails it the fuck out, and both of them can’t stop blushing. Before a tournament, when Merlin is preparing Arthur in the tent after they had a little fight that Arthur suspects Merlin is still a little mad about (well, not really a fight, just an altercation that has Merlin debating about sharing his feelings), Arthur is prodding and poking at him and all but begging him to banter with him. But, Merlin stays mostly silent while securing his armor. No matter how many insults he throws at Merlin, his mouth stays shut. As a last attempt to wring out some of Merlin’s humor or at least a smile, Arthur asks, “a kiss for good luck?”. Merlin is actually stunned by his question at first, but he thinks about it for a moment. And after some awkward consideration and then a last thought of ‘fuck it’, Merlin tugs his chains and smacks his lips against Arthur’s, hot and wet and sudden and tight for the most shocking 6 seconds of Arthur’s life and then Merlin shoves him out of the tent and into the sparring match and Arthur is just O__o (I got this from a cool fanart comic, I can’t find it anymore tho, so the idea isn’t mine)

After Arthur finds out about Merlin’s magic and has returned from the lake (about a year later), he’s still a little weary of his sorcery, but he’s still curious. And once Merlin has had enough of his tip toeing, he finally sits him down in his chambers and shows him how amazing magic can really be. With a wave of his hand and some old, gentle words, Merlin conjures a ball of soft blue light that forms a dragon swirling around above Merlin’s fingers. Unlike the other times Arthur has seen dragons depicted, this one is graceful, and it seems docile as it floats over him. He’s enchanted with it, leaning in to look at it more closely. That’s when Merlin asked if he wanted to try something. He nodded, and Arthur’s hands were taken into Merlin’s with an incantation, and then he held a luminescent dragon in his hand as well. It dances around his head as he begins to smile.Ever since that faithful day Arthur keeps asking for Merlin to show him more magic, and every time he asks, Merlin smiles, too.

Can you tell I’m a fan of Merthur?

After Uther is dead, Arthur is shut off from the rest of the world, and not even the love of Camelot could bring him back. Merlin doesn’t say anything about it, silently supporting him with little acts, but not broaching him about it. One night, Merlin comes into Arthur’s bedchambers to see it completely tarnished. Clothes and trinkets thrown about askew, the sheets and curtains torn and discarded on the floor, and Arthur sitting on the floor with his arms resting on his knees, one of the most painful looks Merlin has ever seen trapped behind his eyes. Still, Merlin says nothing as he shuffles over to where Arthur is haphazardly collapsed on the floor, sliding down the wall to sit next to him. And he doesn’t say a word as he offers his hand, palm up, between them to where Arthur can see. Merlin doesn’t need to ask, and Arthur doesn’t need to answer as he tangles their fingers together. They speak without using their voices there, neither of them pushing, but both feeling a pull. Arthur’s tears start to fall, with Merlin squeezing his hand through them. Slowly, Merlin scoots closer until Arthur’s head is resting on his. They spend the entire night like that, the world outside a blur. No one bothers them, and no one comes to wake up the King, his head resting on Merlin’s shoulder.

Merlin is pushed into the lake. During an ambush from Morgana and her forces, Merlin is knocked into the freezing water, cracking the ice and slipping under. It’s Lancelot that sees his neckerchief on the water surface and a pale body sinking through, racing against the splitting ice to reach him. He almost doesn’t grab him in time, but by partly submerging himself, he’s able to grab a hold on one of Merlin’s stiff arms and haul him over the surface. After hearing the lake’s surface break, Arthur knows something bad had happened, but he couldn’t actually go over and investigate until Morgana’s soldiers are on the ground in front of him. Once he does, he sees the red fabric damp and frosted on the water, and his heart frosts over with it. Merlin’s lips are blue like his fingertips, all the life drained from his skin. He’s not breathing. Now Arthur’s hands are shaking as he feels over Merlin’s cold skin for a pulse. He can’t feel one, but he won’t give up. He can’t. So he tries to give Merlin some of his warmth, rubbing over his arms and sides and rolling him over. He rips off his cloak and wraps him in it, but the fabric is soaked through in seconds. He pleads to the gods, begs them not to take him, not him, please. His tears burn hot in anger and desperation as he finally shakes his limp body and yells at him, orders him to live. Just then, Merlin’s fingers twitch, and not soon after he’s coughing up lake water onto himself, body now fully wracked with shaking as a burst of his magic forces his heart to beat, and for him to take in a breath.

#merthur #merlin x arthur #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon x merlin emrys #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #fanfiction #ish #yes #yes I am going to write all of these #they all need hugs

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sheps-shepherd · 4 years

Text

Title: Perfectly Perfect

Pairing: Mikleo/Sorey; Mikleo & Sorey

Rating: T (for non-explicitly implied sexual content)

Written for @sormikweek 2020 Day 8: New Moon - New beginnings; Blank page / El Nath - Neutrality for good or evil; Symbolically called the Shepherd

A/N: This is by far my favorite piece that I wrote for the entire week. It's also the piece that started the whole idea to use this week to expand this universe that I'm really excited to build on and share. Expect not only the rest of the week's prompts, but many more independent works from this world.

"This world" being a BBC Merlin AU in which magic is illegal, Mikleo is a sorcerer hiding who he is, and Sorey is a prince living his best sunshine life. In case you haven't heard that spiel already.

Enjoy!

Read on AO3

---

“What if I changed my name?”

Mikleo turned from the spellbook he was reading with a smile on his lips, sure that Sorey would greet him with a matching one. But Sorey wasn’t even looking at him, let alone smiling. He was standing by the window, arm braced against the stone wall above it, staring out into the courtyard with a shadowed look on his face. Mikleo’s smile faded. He’d been catching Sorey with that kind of look on his face more often these days than he liked.

“Where did that come from?” Sorey offered a half-hearted shrug and stayed silent. Mikleo didn’t buy it for a second. He closed the book and stood from his spot, crossing over to the other side of the window. “Is this about the coronation tomorrow?” Sorey winced like he’d been hit, which was as good as an admission in Mikleo’s eyes. “Sorey, it’s okay to be nervous-”

“That’s not it,” Sorey said, shaking his head insistently. “It’s not nerves.”

“Then why have you been thinking about changing your name?”

Sorey’s jaw worked like he was wrestling with the words inside his mouth. Mikleo waited patiently, leaning against the wall as he watched his prince.

King, Mikleo mentally corrected himself. Today was the last day that Sorey would be a prince. Although, in Mikleo’s opinion, Sorey had been a king for a long while already; it just hadn’t been official until now.

“Because I don’t think I can do it.” Mikleo opened his mouth, ready with another protest. But Sorey finally turned to look at him, and the shadows hiding in the green of his eyes made him pause.

Sorey finished, “I don’t think I can take the crown if I still have his name.”

“Sharing his name doesn’t mean anything. You couldn’t be more different than him.”

“I know that. I know that, but….” Sorey squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. “Mikleo, I can’t stop thinking about it. And if I can’t stop thinking about it, then how can I expect anyone else to?”

Mikleo reached out, placing his hand on Sorey’s shoulder as gently as he could. The muscle beneath his palm was taut with what he now understood was several days worth of stress and anxiety - this had been on Sorey’s mind for a while, probably ever since Velvet’s abdication.

No. Probably longer than that.

“You’re not Artorius, Sorey,” Mikleo said. The name tasted vile on his lips, and hearing it made Sorey flinch again. “You could never be. The darkness in him didn’t come from his name. It doesn’t work like that.”

“But that’s what I’m talking about,” Sorey argued weakly, cracking his eyes open and peeking back over at him. “It feels like that, doesn’t it? It’s like it’s a curse now. No one wants to say it. No one wants to hear it, and I’m supposed to accept his crown in front of the entire kingdom like I don’t know that’s what everyone watching will be thinking?” He pushed himself away from the wall, away from Mikleo. His hand went up to tangle in his hair. “I won’t do that, Mikleo. I can’t.”

“Sorey,” Mikleo said, as calmly as he could with his heart racing so frantically in his chest. “This is your destiny. You accepting the crown tomorrow was the only thing in Camlann’s history ever meant to be set in stone. And no, not everyone is going to understand that, but you will. You do.”

“But what does knowing that change? That becoming king of the kingdom Arthur broke should make me feel good? That doing it with his name should make me feel proud? Because I don’t feel anything but afraid.” Sorey raked his fingers the rest of the way through his hair, the strands sticking out wildly in their wake. Mikleo had always poked fun about how Sorey’s hair seemed to constantly look some semblance of messy, but there was nothing charming about seeing it that way now. “Arthur wasn’t even my real father, but I’m still destined to get stuck with all his mistakes? I know destiny means a lot to you, Mikleo, but that doesn’t solve anything.”

Mikleo’s magic stirred in his chest. It trembled in the anxious atmosphere that had filled the room like it understood it had become a topic of their conversation. No one knew the burdens that came with destiny as much as Mikleo did. Not even Sorey.

His magic strained against his fingertips. He knew what it wanted to do. He let it.

“You aren’t destined to be stuck with any of Artorius’ mistakes.” Mikleo looked back to the window and felt his magic rush out of him. The latch clicked and the window pane creaked open on purposely rusty hinges. A gust of wind flew into the room, buoyed by the sweep of his magic as Mikleo focused back on his king.

As he expected, Sorey’s eyes were wide; he still got starstruck every time he saw Mikleo’s eyes flash amethyst, even though he’d seen it plenty of times at this point. The breeze blew through Sorey’s hair, righting the strands that had been tousled in his frustrated pulling, circling around his head like a halo until it deemed every piece in its place. It sent his earrings fluttering across his cheeks as it swept down towards his shoulders and dispersed with a flutter of his sleeves. Sorey still stared at him, wonder replacing the shadows that had haunted his eyes. Mikleo stared back.

“You’re destined to fix them.”

Sorey - who was Mikleo’s destiny, and always would be - blinked slowly. Mikleo watched the anxiety bleed out of him, watched as his shoulders dropped and his fingers uncurled and his face softened. He suddenly looked exhausted, but it was better than seeing him look so hopeless.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, okay, that was what I needed to hear. Thanks, Mikleo.” He brought a hand back to his face and rubbed at his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all that on you.”

That sounded more like the Sorey he knew. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I wish you had dumped this on me sooner.” He crossed the room again, and this time Sorey was there to greet him with a hand at his waist and a sheepish smile. “But I should have realized this wasn’t as easy on you as you were making it seem, so I’m sorry.”

Sorey opened his mouth, paused, then closed it again, like he had changed his mind about what it was he wanted to say. “It’s not easy,” he admitted finally, and Mikleo was sure he’d scrapped some kind of I’m fine, don’t worry about me speech. “It’s… been a lot to process. And sometimes it feels like I don’t have enough time to go through it all.”

“You don’t have to go through it all right now,” Mikleo said. “And you don’t have to go through it by yourself, either.” He placed his hand on Sorey’s arm, squeezing carefully. “I know Velvet’s leaving, and I’m not her, but-”

“I don’t want you to be like Velvet.” Sorey reached up to press his other hand against Mikleo’s cheek. “I want you to be you. Who else is going to tell me when I’m in over my head or being too dumb?”

“Velvet, but I see your point.” And his Sorey really was here again, because he threw his head back and laughed. A full, rich sound that made Mikleo think of sunshine - or maybe there were just things about Sorey that still left him starstruck, regardless of how many times he’d seen them. “As long as you’re okay with me taking up that mantle,” he continued once the other’s laughter died down, “I suppose that settles that.”

“I’m more than okay with it.” Sorey cocked his head then, staring at Mikleo with a fond grin on his face. “Sometimes thinking about all the destiny stuff makes my head spin, but I know it’s not all bad. After all, destiny brought me you….” His green eyes sparkled with mischief as he snuck his thumb beneath Mikleo’s fringe of hair, tracing across the skin of his forehead right beneath where his circlet rested. “...Luzrov Rulay.”

Like clockwork, Mikleo’s magic rose to the call. It swirled wildly in his chest, an involuntary spark that shot through his bones. The feeling wasn’t as alarming to him now as it had been when he was young with no idea of where it was coming from, which had resulted in his mother gifting him the circlet in the first place. Mikleo hadn’t felt that terrifying slipping feeling again until he met Sorey, although he eventually realized it wasn’t a rebelling of his magic, but instead an answer. The tampering enchantment he wore did nothing to block Sorey’s voice if he called, and Mikleo’s magic would never ignore their king. It pulsed in his palms, spiked aches in his knuckles on its way down to his fingertips, and then Mikleo felt the tell-tale rush that came with the beginning of a spell.

The window pane swung back and closed itself. The latch clicked. The drapes drew themselves shut with just enough of an opening for a sliver of light to keep the room dimly lit. But Mikleo still saw the stars that twinkled to life in Sorey’s eyes, also like clockwork as his own eyes flickered back to amethyst.

Sorey’s thumb moved again, now tracing a gentle path below his eye, watching intently for the moment the amethyst faded back to his natural blue. “There we go,” he murmured, and his magic sang from the praise as it settled back into his blood where it belonged.

Which then shot up to Mikleo’s face and burned his cheeks. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

“You know that I hate it when you use magic around me when I can’t fully appreciate it. It was only fair.”

“I was just trying to remind you.” He cleared his throat. “Which it seems I did.”

“You did.” Sorey’s other hand came up, and he tipped Mikleo’s head back as he properly cupped his face. “You definitely did.”

Sorey kissed him, and his magic simmered happily. It was all Mikleo could do to hold onto Sorey’s arms as he leaned into him, all warmth and comfort as Sorey thanked him in his own way.

Mikleo let him take his fill, felt his head begin to get that floaty feeling that came with Sorey’s more intense kisses; the kind of kisses they shared when they were alone that often built into something more, which were finally becoming more common between them, much to Mikleo’s delight. But when he felt one of Sorey’s hands leave his cheek in favor of moving down to press against the small of his back, Mikleo reluctantly twisted his face away, and brought his own hand up to keep the other at bay when he tried to follow.

“Wait,” he said, and Sorey’s pout was immediate. Mikleo pointedly ignored how cute it made him look. “The name thing. You need to tell me more about that first, before we get distracted.”

Sorey blinked. “Oh. That.” His brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Yeah, that wasn’t supposed to spiral into what it did. I really did just want your opinion.” His fingers flexed nervously at the small of Mikleo’s back. “So, what do you think? About maybe changing my name?”

“I think the question you should be asking me,” Mikleo answered, “is what I think of whatever name you’ve already picked out.”

Sorey was surprised enough to take a step back, and Mikleo rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Sorey, I’m not stupid. You wouldn’t have brought it up to me at all if you hadn’t gotten that far with it.” The pout returned. Mikleo ran his hands up Sorey’s arms, settling on his shoulders where he gave him a light shake. “Come on, tell me.”

“I really can’t get anything past you, can I?” Sorey sighed and straightened his shoulders. “I thought about just taking Velvet’s name. I mean, it would have made sense. The Crowe family is technically the one that should be on the throne. But.... I didn’t like the way that made me feel either. I’m not really Velvet’s brother any more than I was Arthur’s son.”

Mikleo opened his mouth, but the hand on his cheek shifted to cover it before he could speak. “And I don’t mean that in a bad way,” Sorey hurried on. “I just mean I think I’m finally ready to make my own name. I don’t want to be defined by Velvet any more than I do Arthur. I think it’s time I finally start just being Sorey, don’t you think?”

He took his hand away, dropping it awkwardly onto the bend of Mikleo’s elbow. Sorey stared at him with the most hopeful look Mikleo had ever seen on his face, and he didn’t know if it was possible to fall in love with someone twice, but their relationship had braved greater unknowns than that.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “I do.”

The smile that split across Sorey’s face put the sun itself to shame.

“I like Shepherd,” he said, voice quiet like it was taking everything he had not to burst with excitement. “I thought it fit nice. I came from something simple, just like all the people I’ll be leading. I want them to know that.”

Mikleo nodded as his eyes stung with pride. Hearing that made him prouder than any ancient script of destiny ever could. His destiny was to make sure Sorey took the crown tomorrow, but Sorey made himself worthy of it all on his own.

“Sorey Shepherd.” It was like magic, sizzling on his tongue. “I like it, too. It’s perfect.”

You’re perfect, Mikleo didn’t say. Sorey looked happy enough to cry without hearing that part.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re right; it suits you.”

The pressure that suddenly appeared at the small of his back told him what Sorey’s next move was going to be, and he held up his hand again before Sorey could swoop back in. “But,” he chimed, maybe just a little teasingly as he watched impatience paint Sorey’s face, “to answer your original question, I think the whole thing’s a great idea. You of all people deserve a new beginning.”

Sorey smiled at him, something softer and more tender but just as warm. It matched the way he cradled Mikleo’s face. “You’re my new beginning,” he murmured. “You always were. You always will be.”

And while Mikleo would normally shove him for saying something so horribly cheesy, he let Sorey have that one. He wouldn’t have been able to stop the stupid smile that spread across his own face anyway.

Sorey’s fingers twitched against his cheek. “If there’s anything else from that spiel you want to talk about, you should say it now. Because once I kiss you again, I’m not going to be able to stop.”

Mikleo shook his head with absolutely nothing but fondness. He glanced over Sorey’s shoulder, eyeing the lock on his bedroom door, and his magic rushed to do his bidding. He heard the heavy click a moment later. The drapes were next with a glance over Sorey’s other shoulder, the sliver of light vanishing and shrouding them in darkness - but only for as long as it took Mikleo to light the candles on the walls.

The flickering flames sent shadows dancing across Sorey’s face, and Mikleo took a moment to appreciate the way he looked, just like he knew Sorey was doing as he felt his magic curl within him once more.

“No,” he answered, belatedly. “You can kiss me again.”

And Sorey, his sweet and shining king, was true to his word.

The next morning, His Majesty Sorey Shepherd of Camlann was formally sworn to the throne. The crown glittered where it nestled in his brown hair, caught by the sunlight streaming in through the windows as he stood on the dais, surrounded by his people. Rose and Zaveid were the ones who started the chant, passing it along to Velvet and Alisha and soon to everyone in the room. But Mikleo whispered his piece to himself, and his magic glowed with understanding. They would do everything they could with every bit of power they had to make sure the wish was fulfilled.

Long live the king.

#talesoffanfic #sormikweek2020 #sormik #sorey #mikleo #merlin au #tales of zestiria

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thebikles · 4 years

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Little Merlin Fanfic Chapter 5

chapter 1: https://thebikles.tumblr.com/post/616315012077813760/little-merlin-fan-fiction

A few hours earlier

Merlin dreamed that all of Camelot knew he was a sorcerer. He stumbled through the lower town, the buildings surrounding him almost familiar, with twisted geometries and shuttered doors. He needed to make it to the cover of the forest and beyond, but his legs wouldn’t obey him, they existed in slow motion. Duck into an alley, shy away from the torchlight. Shouts and sword points licked at his heels, the space between houses grew smaller until it was whittled away entirely.

He was trapped. Trapped! And it didn’t make sense that there was nowhere to flee because it didn’t make sense that he should die so young. The fear didn’t fit in his chest and that’s what finally woke him, a sort of bodily instinct to de-escalate.

Merlin lay gasping for several minutes in disorientation, allowing the residue of his dream to evaporate, willfully forgetting.

Though, the reality he had woken into didn’t feel much better. Merlin burrowed back beneath the covers and lay in a close musty darkness of his own creation. The events of the night before were still too hot to touch, so he forced his mind to drift in the starless cosmos beneath his eyelids. To not think was a matter of survival.

Gaius, however, would not allow it.

The morning had barely begun to drain away when he called through a firmly closed door, “Merlin! Breakfast!”

No response.

“It’s getting cold!”

Then, “You’re going to be late…”

Finally footsteps on the stairs. He tensed as Gauis poked his head into the room,

“Merlin, what are you doing? Arthur will be asking for you.”

“No he won’t,” came the muffled reply.

Giaus eyed him then yanked the covers away with surprising force, to reveal Merlin lying there crumpled like a wet cat, blinking in protest.

“Right. Up you get. Eat my oatmeal and tell me what’s the matter.”

Merlin pawed for his pillow which was swiftly confiscated as well.

“I won’t permit you to wallow any longer. Your clouds of gloom are slipping under the door and contaminating the air, spoiling all my medicines…”

He stood with his hands on his hips, waiting.

So Merlin got up. He trudged down the stairs, plopped onto the bench and stared bleakly at his breakfast. Gaius situated himself opposite and ate industriously, trying to set an example.

“Oh, I almost forgot. There was a note addressed to you this morning.”

Merlin felt a fresh stab of fear. It was like the first jolt of a fall, when your body is in one place and your stomach is in quite another. It could only be from one person. To wait any longer would be excruciating, so Merlin asked, in a shaky voice,

“Would you read aloud?”

“Alright.” Gaius cleared his throat and began to speak as if he were reading from one of his clinical textbooks, “Sorry for being an ass last night. I’m off hunting- need to be alone for a while. Will be back whenever. Signed, Arthur.” Then, in his own voice, “What happened Merlin? Why do you look so sad?”

Merlin sat in silence for several moments. He knew he could be stubborn, that Gaius would eventually grow tired of questioning. But it was difficult, living with these sharp edges inside of him. How was he supposed to think, when there were so many places in his mind he could not go? He didn’t want to be comforted, he wanted someone to acknowledge his hopelessness, to bear witness.

“Last night I told Arthur I liked him.” It was such a childish sentence but Merlin didn’t know what else to say.

“Ah.” Gaius enunciated carefully. He sat digesting, “And how did he react?”

“I don’t- know. I didn’t stick around to find out.” He felt leaky and out of balance. Merlin kept speaking, but not of his own volition. It was like he was rolling down a hill and had gained too much momentum to ever imagine slowing down. “He was drunk, and he kept pushing me and I snapped. I told too much truth. So now he’s run away to the forest. Because he doesn’t want to see me.” He paused, then spoke thickly, “I think I’ve ruined something, Gaius.”

“Maybe he just needs some space,” the old man offered, “some time to think.”

But Merlin’s hole was already too deep. He didn’t want to know about other, more livable worlds, for hoping was how he’d hurt himself in the first place.

“Yeah. Maybe. By the way, are there any chores you need me to do?”

Gaius scoffed, “I never thought I’d live to hear you say that. As a matter of fact there are.”

So Merlin hauled and scrubbed and polished. He changed and rearranged small objects of no consequence and imagined himself to be a sardine among many interchangeable thousands, a grain of sand, a single pine needle, curved and delicate as an eyelash, waiting out the winter.

Anything to keep from sitting around in his room watching for Arthur to return. He knew it would be empty and abstract as the inside of a cello, trembling with vacancy. Fear of what might happen if he stayed there too long fueled his furious application of elbow grease. Merlin couldn’t promise himself that his magic wouldn’t find a way to seep into the world. He couldn’t be sure that books wouldn’t shudder from their shelves, or that cracks wouldn’t scurry through the foundations of the castle.

Merlin was walking down another stone corridore. He didn’t trudge or hurry, he simply moved forward through space, feeling detached, as if a glass wall separated him from the rest of the world. As he passed, furtive voices trickled from Morgana’s door and Merlin almost kept walking. Let Uther deal with whatever she’s got planned, part of him thought bluntly, don’t get involved for once, just let it fall.

But some instinct yanked him as close to that door as he dared. He couldn’t quite bring himself to let things lie, it wasn’t in his bones. Besides, secrets and conspiracy were a much better distraction than window washing and reorganization.

Merlin could tell right away that Morgana was not speaking to a friend of Camelot. The airy sweetness to her voice, which she took great pains to maintain, was all scraped away, leaving nothing but cool impatience.

“Now is the perfect time to strike, he’s off in the woods, he’s brought no men with him…”

Merlin stopped breathing. She was talking about Arthur.

Another voice spoke, but it seemed to come from a long way off and he could not make out the words.

“Yes, as many as you can spare, we must take no chances, he needs to-”

There was a sudden, suspicious silence, like a shift in the clouds so that shadows materialized in the dirt. Merlin frowned, listening for the other muffled voice, realizing too late that he needed to run.

The door burst open and Morgana stood framed there like a fury, with snake bites for eyes.

They watched each other and Merlin knew she expected him to plead and make excuses. He lifted his chin.

“What are you doing here?” it wasn’t a question, it was a threat.

Merlin sighed and glanced away. What had become of Lady Morgana? They had been friends once. Her eyes were still full of intelligence, but now they were barbed and guarded as well.

“Why are you doing this?” he said so exhaustedly, without malice.

She laughed coldly. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You don’t have to hide each day, you don’t have to live with the knowledge that you would be killed if anyone discovered who you are.”

Merlin swallowed and said nothing.

“Uther is a tyrant and murderer. What could be more righteous than taking him down and bringing freedom to my people?”

“But Arthur’s your brother, and he is no tyrant.”

Morgana stiffened, something like doubt shifted in her eyes. It occurred to Merlin that she had no reason to speak to him, for the king would never believe a word against his beloved ward. It was as if she needed to justify herself.

“Yes but one day he will be,”

“-You don’t know that-”

“...and his life is a small price to pay for justice, and equality.”

Merlin kept his eyes locked on hers, “There is always another way.”

Morgana smiled poisonously, “How sweet. I remember when I was as naive as you.”

“I won’t let you do this.”

The door closed firmly in his face. “Have fun trying to stop me.”

So Merlin took off running, his malaise slipping like a cloak from his shoulders. It didn’t matter now, whether Arthur didn’t want their friendship, so long as he was alive to avoid it.

Merlin discarded the stairs, leaping three at a time, blurring the line between a fall and a sprint. He ran until his thighs burned and his teeth ached and then kept running. Let Morgana laugh, let her underestimate him. He could feel magic sloshing beneath his skin.

#bbc merlin #merlin #merarthur

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carry-on-my-wayward-shadowhunter · 7 years

Text

Just a Conversation

Thank you to @free-to-be-no-one-but-mee for the prompt ‘What would I do without your smart mouth?’ for Harry/Draco

“I win again, mate.” Ron said, cheekily. Harry rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement.

“You always beat me. It will never change. Why do you insist on playing Wizard’s chess with me every time Hermione is running late?” Harry asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t like to be bored. Besides, it’s always a laugh when you get ahead, and I crush you every time,” Ron laughed. He waved his wand, making the chess set smaller and stuffed it into his pocket.

“Oh, yeah. Very funny.” Harry muttered, sarcastically. Ron laughed again, and Harry rolled his eyes at him, with a gesture of his finger. He downed the last of his pint, and looked around. He spotted a few of their school mates, and waved to them. Seamus Finnagan waved enthusiastically back, while Dean Thomas raised a hand in acknowledgement. Then, he finally spotted Hermione coming through the door. “Hermione! Thank Merlin!” he exclaimed.

“Ron beat you at chess again?” Hermione teased him, as she sat down. “Hello, love,” She added to Ron, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Oy, not you too!”

“It’s all in good fun, mate.” Ron couldn’t help but chuckle at Harry’s expression. “Ok, fun on my side.”

“There ya go. You want a drink Hermione?” Harry asked. She raised both of her eyebrows and looked at Ron, who smiled. “What’s going on?”

“Well, there was a reason we wanted to meet tonight, actually,” Hermione said, with a twinkle in her eye.

“Alright…go on,”

“Well, Harry…I’m pregnant!” Hermione exclaimed, grasping Ron’s hand. Harry was grinning so hard at them both, he thought his face would split.

“That’s wonderful, guys!” Harry told them. He and Ron stood up and Harry crushed him into a hug. “Congratulations, Dad!”

“Thank you, Harry.” Ron mumbled into his best friend’s shoulder. He felt tears pricking his eyes.

“Oh, you know, I’m gonna hug you,” Harry said to Hermione, who was now crying with happiness. Hermione stood up and Harry was a tad gentler with her. “Congratulations, Momma.”

“Oh, Harry. Thank you!”

“We should celebrate! Larry, another round for Ron and I…and,” He looked to Hermione for a drink choice.

“Pumpkin juice is just fine for me, thanks.” She added, with a smile.

“Pumpkin juice, too!” Harry called to the old bartender.

“Got it, Harry!” Larry called back to him, and began getting their drinks.

“This is so exciting!” Harry exclaimed. He went to Hermione before she sat back down. He put his hand on her belly. “Hi, nice to see you. I’m your Uncle Harry and I will be making sure your mommy doesn’t fill your head with nonsense about having homework done three scrolls more than asked for.” Hermione chuckled at this. “And to make sure that your Daddy doesn’t let you believe that the Cannons will make it to the World Cup anytime soon,”

“Oy!” Ron shouted.

Harry laughed, and blew a kiss to the baby. He was so happy for his friends, he thought he would burst. This is why I fought, Harry thought. This, right here, is exactly why I wanted to fight. “Ah, so have you told Arthur and Molly yet?”

“Tomorrow morning, we’re having breakfast with them. We’re going to tell them then.” Ron said, taking his drink from the waiter when he brought them over.

“Oh, Molly is going to be thrilled!”

“I know. She is going to cry, I know it.” Ron joked.

“I cried, for Merlin’s sake!” Harry pointed out.

“In this case, tears are okay. At least, I think so. Can we eat now? I haven’t eaten since noon,” Hermione asked, with a shy look.

“Hey! You’re eating for two, so you better not skip any meals. Let’s order!” Ron scolded, but with a soft look to his wife. He kissed her cheek, while Harry waved down a waitress to take their orders.

While they waited for their food, they continued chatting about how work was going, how Harry was doing in his bookshop, how Fred and George were doing in their shop and how they played a joke on Ron yesterday that had his hair green for three hours. At this Harry laughed out loud, and asked to send on his compliments for a well-played prank.

A few tables over, Draco Malfoy sat with his friends Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. He and Blaise were discussing how their lines of work were going, as Pansy was texting her latest fling on her phone.

“When was the last time you have been on a date, Draco? Really?” Blaise was yet again at his never ending quest to ask about Draco’s love life…or lack thereof. If he didn’t know any better, he would think he and his mother were in cahoots.

“I just haven’t had the time,” Draco responded.

“Bullshit. That is utter bullshit and you know it. You can’t find love if you don’t go looking for it,”

“Who in the hell hit you on the head with an Oprah stick?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m just saying that you need to put yourself out there!” Blaise exclaimed.

“What? Like some common floozy? How about no, ladies and gentleman?”

“Whatever, Draco. It’s your life,” Blaise threw back the rest of his drink, and Draco pointedly turned his attention to Pansy.

“Pansy, how’s work going?” Draco asked her. Silence. He raised an eyebrow at Blaise, who snickered. “How’s your mum doing?” Still no reply, as her thumbs kept tapping away. “Hey, I’m going to dye my hair bubblegum pink, and join a rock band. Blaise, thoughts?”

“You’re going to what?” Pansy finally screeched.

“Ah, so she does have a voice,” Draco drawled, with a smirk.

“You will not touch your hair! I would kill for your natural blonde, as would many others. What would your mother say? Don’t you dare,” Pansy scolded him. She finally set her phone down, and began sipping her vodka tonic.

“I was making a joke, Pans. Relax.”

“Although, I think you could pull it off,” Blaise teased.

“Shut up.” Draco was going to say something else, until he heard a laugh from the other side of the bar he would know anywhere. It felt like someone had poked him with a red hot iron in the backside. “Ah, Potter is here.”

“He has been, with Hermione and Ron. They sound like they are celebrating something,” Blaise commented.

“Granger probably got yet another promotion.” Draco mused. He wasn’t too bitter over the fact that they worked in the same department at the Ministry, but she was technically his superior. Not too much, anyway.

“Now, don’t be jealous, Draco darling.” Pansy teased, looking downright smug.

“I am not!”

“Are too” Blaise quipped.

“What are you, twelve?” Draco asked, raising a pale eyebrow.

“You keep me young, Draco. Oh, my,” Blaise breathed out, and wasn’t even looking at Draco anymore.

“What is it?”

“Potter certainly grew up, didn’t he?” Blaise smiled devilishly.

“Hmm?” Draco turned around to see Potter heading to the loo, having him walk right by them. He was wearing a fitted black t shirt, with dark jeans that hugged him in all the right places. His hair was still unruly as ever, Draco noted, but it fit him now in a way that made it look like a ‘just shagged’ look. He felt his face get hot. It had been a year since they went back for their Eighth year at Hogwarts, and he hadn’t seen much of Harry in that time. Now, he was very sorry he hadn’t.

“Draco!” he heard Pansy shout his name.

“Hmm?” he asked, embarrassed.

“If you could stop your drooling for a minute, I was going to ask you how your parents were doing.” Pansy asked, raising a perfectly tweezed eyebrow.

“Oh, um…they’re fine. Father’s leg bothers him only on rainy days now. Mother has told me that if he doesn’t go back to work soon, she is going to kill him,” Draco smirked.

“He hasn’t been back yet?” Blaise asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Not cleared yet. His therapy is going well, though.”

“Well, when he was with the rest of the Aurors, he took a hell of hit from one of the Death Eaters.” Pansy pointed out.

“I know, and he will never let them live it down, either,” Draco chuckled. He was going to say something else, but he saw Potter walk by again, and his mouth ran dry. He looked so…so…delectable, if Draco had to put a word to it. Fighting an evil bastard did Potter good…This was ridiculous, he thought. How in the hell had Potter always managed to get under his skin?

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, just go talk to him!” Blaise smacked Draco on the shoulder.

“He’s with his friends.” Draco mumbled, and started playing with the edge of his drink.

“Like hell. You guys have been dancing around each other since sixth year, and I am sick of it. Every time you look at him you go all goony.” Draco couldn’t help it; he smiled. Pansy huffed in annoyance. “See?” she pointed out to Blaise.

“Yeah, mate. I agree with her on this one. Just go talk to him. If he blows you off, no harm done. At least you’ll know.” Blaise said, with a shrug.

Draco took a deep breath and exhaled. He knocked back the rest of his firewhiskey. “Alright, fine. I’ll just go say hi, and then come back.” He stood and brushed down the front of his shirt and trousers.

“You look fantastic, as per usual. Go,” Pansy shooed him away.

“Alright,” Draco conceded and began making his way to the table where Potter was sitting with his friends. Pansy and Blaise exchanged smirks and clinked their glasses together.

“You are not going to buy our child a broom on their first birthday, Harry!” Hermione scolded. She was munching on her fries, and Harry just laughed.

“Hey, can never start too early!” Harry joked.

“Hello, Potter,” Harry heard a deep drawl from behind him, and he looked up to see who it was. He saw legs at first that seemed to go on for miles, a lean, lithe torso and platinum blonde hair. He smiled when he realized who it was.

“Draco! How are you?” It was Hermione who spoke first.

“Since we saw each other only a few hours ago, just fine. Thank you,” Draco quipped with a smile. Hermione rolled her eyes, and huffed in fake annoyance.

“Malfoy,” Ron greeted. Draco nodded in greeting.

“Hello, Draco. Would you like to join us?” Harry offered, showing their table.

“Oh, no, thank you. I’m here with Pansy and Blaise, and just wanted to say hi. Hi.” Draco thought he couldn’t have sounded more ridiculous. He was a Slytherin for Merlin’s sake, and here he was blushing like a God damned first year school girl. Harry grinned at him.

“Hi,” Harry said.

“Well, I’m going to head back. It was nice seeing you,” Draco tried to hurry away before he made even more of an ass of himself, but he felt a hand grab his wrist.

“Hey, um…you want to get a drink? Catch up a bit? We can go up to the bar. You don’t mind, right guys?” Harry asked his friends.

“For the love of Merlin, Harry, no. Go,” Ron sounded thankful, and Hermione giggled. Draco furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion.

“Thanks. Make sure to let me know what your parents say, Ron.” Harry added, and he gestured for Draco to follow him to seats on the bar.

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks. “Finally.” Hermione sighed. She looked over to where Pansy and Blaise were sitting, and waved to get their attention. She smiled and raised her glass to them.

“Bout bloody time,” Ron quipped, taking a drink.

“So, how are you, Potter?” Draco asked, at a loss for what else to say. He took his seat beside Harry, and felt like he was going to jump out of his skin.

“Really? We fought a war together, Draco. I think you can call me Harry, don’t you think?” Harry teased.

Draco smiled and nodded. “Yes, I guess you’re right.”

“Well, that’s once, I guess,” Harry quipped in return, with a smirk.

“What would I do without your smart mouth? Don’t let it go to your head. It might get bigger than it already is,” Draco liked their banter. It was like flirting, although Harry probably didn’t see it that way. Harry laughed out loud, and Draco felt his face heat up with how much he liked the sound. “So, I hear you run a bookshop now?”

“Yeah. I took over for the owner, after he was retiring. It doesn’t rival Florish and Blotts, not by a long shot, but it’s fun. I like it,” Harry smiled.

“I would have thought you would have went with Weasley into the Auror program,” Draco signaled for the bartender to come take their drink orders. “Father told me you wouldn’t, though.”

“I think I’ve had enough of fighting Dark wizards for a lifetime,” Harry said with conviction.

“Haven’t we all?” Draco added.

“I would say so. I hear you went for a Ministry position? Hermione tells me every day how she enjoys working with someone as diligent as she is.”

“There are more than a few laws that need seeing to, and she agrees with me on that. Pansy almost had a coronary when she heard who my partner was,” Draco rolled his eyes sarcastically. Harry grinned back at him.

“What did you ask Weasley about before? About his parents?”

“Oh, yeah. Hermione and Ron are having a baby!” Harry was practically beaming with pride and his smile was infectious.

“That’s wonderful. Pass on my congratulations, of course,” Draco said, returning the smile.

After they had about two drinks each, the conversation flowed more freely. Draco loosened up a bit, and Harry kept cracking joke after joke; the latter bringing Draco to tears with laughter.

Draco wiped his eyes. “Ah, who knew the Golden Boy was so funny?” He was smiling still, but he saw Harry’s face fall just a bit. “What is it?”

“Don’t…don’t call me that. Not you,” Harry muttered.

“What? Golden Boy? But that’s what you are. Our Golden Savior!” Draco didn’t understand why Harry’s face looked like he just sucked a lemon.

“No, no. I don’t really relish the fact that I get called that, even now from complete strangers, but here, when we are—“Harry couldn’t seem to finish a thought.

“What, Harry?” Draco was confused, and just a little afraid that Harry was just going to get up and leave. The night was going so well, too. Just his luck that his big mouth would get him in trouble.

“Like this,” Harry breathed out. Draco took a risk and glanced up. Harry was looking at him with the most intense stare he had ever experienced in his life. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, and couldn’t look away. Dear Merlin, his eyes were like deep pools of jade green and Draco felt rather intimidated by it.

“Like what?” Draco choked out. He hated how he sounded; like a schoolboy all over again.

“Merlin, Draco! Sod it all to hell, do I have to spell it out? When were on a bloody date!” Harry exclaimed. “I guess I was mistaken. Just wish I didn’t feel like a complete idiot after the fact,” Harry stood up, and fished some coins from his pocket. Draco was just sitting there gaping like a fish. He couldn’t move; he was so shocked by Harry’s statement that he was frozen on the spot. “See you around, I guess.”

“Wait—what?” Draco called across the bar. “Harry! For Merlin’s sake…” he muttered into his hands.

Draco watched Harry cross the bar, and exit the door. All the while, his friends were yelling for Harry, and Draco heard Pansy’s heels across the wooden floor getting closer and closer.

“What the hell happened?” Pansy asked. “I looked over when I heard Potter shout, and the next minute he left!”

“I slipped back into an old habit. I’m a fucking idiot, Pans,” Draco sighed, angry with himself. He ran a hand through his blonde hair. Pansy had never seen his friend so dejected and she put a hand on his shoulder.

Hermione had seen enough. She sat her fork down from her food, and stomped over to where Draco was sitting. “Draco Malfoy you had better go after him, or I swear to God and Merlin himself that I will make your life at the Ministry a living hell!” Her eyes flashed dangerously, and Draco felt like he was dipped in ice water. He knew better than to fuck with this woman since his third year.

Draco raised both of his eyebrows at her, and began to rise out his seat. He had waited forever for his chance to get Harry alone like this and he was blowing it! He rushed out of the bar, looking all around for Harry. He hoped beyond hope that he didn’t apparate away already.

He wandered around, aimlessly it seemed, for about twenty minutes. He kept kicking the leaves, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He ended up at the small lake, which had a path that led up to the Shrieking Shack. He sighed, seeing his breath puff out in white smoke. Draco wished he could evaporate like his breath seemed to be doing, being there for just a few seconds and then becoming one with the night. At least then he wouldn’t have to keep reliving Potter’s saddened face in his mind over and over. He was about to give up looking, and give up hope that he would ever see Harry Potter again, until finally...finally, he spotted him. Harry was leaning against the rail, overlooking the lake. Draco inhaled sharply and ran as fast as he could to the man that had been invading his dreams for a better part of his life.

“Harry!” Draco called. Harry perked up at his name being called and turned. Draco was breathing heavily by the time he reached him.

“I—have---been looking—for you—everywhere,” Draco began. He tried to catch his breath, and waited to continue. When his heart returned to normal, he began to speak. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to slip back into the pretentious little shit you used to know. All of this has changed us all, and I have changed, Harry. All I wanted was for tonight to go well, and here I cocked it all up. I cannot even begin to tell you how happy I was that you wanted to talk alone, and we were having such a good time and— Harry slowly reached up his hands and pursed Draco’s lips shut. He tried moving his lips, but to no avail. Harry just kept pursing them together to omit all sound from escaping. Draco raised his eyebrows in confusion, but let Harry keep his mouth shut.

“Now, what would I do without YOUR smart mouth?” Harry quipped his line back at him. “Draco…I just wanted some of your time. You’re either so busy with work, or with your parents. I have wanted to ask you out for some time now, but I didn’t want to impose,” Harry explained. “ Hell, Ron has heard me whining about it enough, and I think he was thankful you were at the Three Broomsticks tonight,” Harry chuckled and shook his head. He finally let go of Draco’s lips. “I know we haven’t always had the smoothest of times between us, but I would like to think that it is all behind us now,” Draco nodded in agreement. “We don’t have to cross any lines tonight. Or, do much of anything. I just—I wanted to take your time. We can just—be here…together. Even if it’s for one night,”

Draco was so happy, he felt like his smile would crack his face if he smiled any harder. Harry couldn’t help but grin in return. “One condition,” He was feeling rather bold, so he figured it was now or never.

“What’s that?” Harry chuckled out.

“I don’t want it to be just tonight. How about we go on a proper date? One that’s not in the Three Broomsticks, hmm?” Draco asked, laying a hand on Harry’s arm.

“Hmm. I have a condition of my own,” Harry admitted, and Draco chuckled.

“Yes?”

“A kiss.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Draco cupped Harry’s face in his pale hands, and their lips met in a tentative kiss. No fireworks or bells rang in the distance, but Draco’s whole body felt alive. This felt like coming home, and as Harry was responding with equal enthusiasm, he hoped the other man felt the same. As Harry’s lips caressed his own, he knew from that moment on, there was no way that he was ever going to stop kissing this man. They kept their kiss as chaste as possible, even though they both knew they wanted one another. But, as Harry said, they could take each other’s time. Time was on their side for once, and Draco wouldn’t have it any other way.

#drarry #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #harry x draco #this is my original work #ficlet #writing prompts #good malfoys

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