#tavern maid merlin

[cinnabons-treasure-trove]

Tavern Maid Merlin: [glaring, placing a goblet full of mead on the table] Not. A. Word.

Pirate Arthur: [leering over his cup of mead at Merlin] You make a lovely wench.

Tavern Maid Merlin: [rolls eyes] oh shut up. I can't believe you chose me to work here.

Pirate Arthur: [pulls Merlin onto his lap, hand beneath his wench's skirt] You're my most prettiest of the crew, love. [Smirks]

Tavern Maid Merlin: [pouts then moans as Arthur strokes his sensitive inner thighs]

#merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur #cinnabons treasure trove #arthur x merlin #merlin x arthur #tavern maid merlin #pirate arthur pendragon #tavern maid!merlin #pirate!arthur #pirate!au #pirate!arthur pendragon #pirate x tavern maid #bbc merlin #bbc arthur #bbc merthur #arthur/merlin #merlin/arthur #otp scenarios #otp writing #otp prompts #arthur and merlin #merlin and arthur #they're made for each other #they're so married #they're husbands your honor #friends to lovers #merlin prompt #merthur prompt #they're gay your honor

[tinyavenuesailor]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Gwen storms off*

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gwaine: Like what?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lance: ..... That is the story

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

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

*Everyone gawks at Arthur in disbelief*

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

Meanwhile in Reality....

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

===In the throne room=== 

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

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

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

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

Merlin: ..... I can fix it

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

Lancelot: Should I go guard the door?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Arthur: You told me those spells were dangerous

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

Agravaine: *making muffled and panicked pleads to Arthur*

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

Lancelot: *nods* I’ll go stand guard

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

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

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

Arthur: *sighs* Is everyone dead?

Merlin: I was supposed to leave someone alive?

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

Lancelot: *already standing guard* 

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

[hopelessromantic5]

I’m in a silly goofy mood. Here’s some merthur crack.

Nimueh is seeking her revenge on Merlin for thwarting her plans.

She sneaks into Camelot, disguised to be hidden among strangers. But to Merlin, she will appear as what his heart most desires.

Thinking it would be a beautiful woman, she lies in wait, until the manservant stumbles upon her and his eyes bug.

“Arthur, what are you doing here?! Uther will have my head if you aren’t in the-“ The manservant stops rambling and stares at Nimueh.

Nimueh, of course, is shocked. This is a plot twist.

The boy still hadn’t looked away from her eyes. Searching for something and coming up short.

“You are not Arthur.” He breathes out.

And before Nimueh can think to act on her ancient sorceress instincts, Merlin has her paralyzed and face up in a turnip cart, covered with potato sacks.

Well this is going splendidly, she thinks to herself, as she rolls to an unknown location.

Not only is the manservant desperately in love with his master, but he’s also got his wits about him enough to know the real thing when he sees it.

At this thought, she pauses. This boy must be someone. He has power and knowing that she’s never seen in a person so young. So mortal.

Eventually the cart stops and she’s tumbling out onto the floor of a very dusty apothecary.

“Merlin, what are you doing?” An older gentleman’s voice comes closer.

“Gaius, look at this and tell me what you see.”

The older man appears in sight, peering at her with a permanent quizzical brow.

“Looks nothing more than a kitchen maid. What is the meaning of this, Merlin? What have you done to the poor girl?”

“Wait, you’re telling me you’re seeing a kitchen maid and not the Prince of Camelot?”

“The Prince of-“ The old man looks to the boy “Have you injured your head today, Merlin?”

“No, Gaius. That’s what I’m telling you. When I came into the court yard after just leaving Arthur with his father, I can promise you I did not expect to see Arthur again, leaning against a wall, suddenly craving a tan.” The boy, Merlin, stares and keeps staring. “I think she’s a witch, or a sorceress.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well, the fact that she looks like one person to me and another to everyone else. And…I can feel it. She must be powerful, I can feel the current of energy underneath.”

The old man, ponders for a long minute.

“Do you remember the creature in the water supply? The Afanc?”

Merlin nodded.

“I told you I believed it to be the work of an ancient sorceress names Nimueh.” The woman internally gasps at her own name. “I also feared she had been keeping an eye on her attempts to destroy the Kingdom. It seems now, she knows you are responsible for her plan not taking hold.”

“You mean she did the on purpose? Came here, in broad daylight, to come after me? Dressed as the Prince of Camelot?”

He sounds hysterical. Perhaps it’s affecting his psyche. This image she’s in now.

“That part is strange.” Gaius muses still staring down at her body like it will tell them more. “You said it looked like Arthur in the court yard, how did you know it wasn’t him?”

“I don’t know.” A lie. A terrible lie, followed by his face turning bright red. She could almost laugh at the foolishness of young humans. “I just…did.”

There’s no reply for minutes.

Then Merlin speaks again.

“I say while she’s paralyzed and without her power, we dose her with a truth serum and find out what she’s doing here.”

‘Without her power’? Excuse you?

She’s only now beginning to feel it. Her magic is still there, in her core, but it’s been locked away. Covered in layers and layers of blankets. Blocked by someone else’s will. Someone with more power than they know.

Now she’s really in for it. If only she could learn to let things go.

“And what are we supposed to do if the real Arthur comes looking for you?” Gaius turns in question.

“Just tell him I’m at the tavern, he’ll never make an appearance there if he doesn’t have to.”

“What are you going to do with her when her powers do return?”

“I will wheel her into the forrest tonight. The spell should last us well past morning light.” This time, Merlin speaks to her. “I’m hoping at that point you’ll just go home and rethink your decision on murdering everyone here and destroying the kingdom.”

Then she’s in a chair, tied down with belts. They forced a tiny tube of liquid down her throat. Or more like poured it in, considering she can’t fight back.

And then they sat back on their stools, six feet away, and studied her.

“Speak.” Merlin commands, followed by a flash of golden eyes. Nimueh was beginning to understand that she didn’t have the upper hand here. Not in the slightest. Her centuries of learning are almost nothing against this boy with the magic of the earth inside him.

“That was disgusting.” Are the first words out of her mouth.

“Well it’s not supposed to be a treat.” Merlin spits. “Why are you here?”

The words come out before she can scramble for control to stop them.

“I’m here to switch a goblet in the chambers of Lord Bayard for the cursed chalice in my possession.”

“For what purpose?” Gaius demands.

“To poison the Prince. To start a war that would tear Camelot and her crown to tiny pieces.”

“Explain your appearance. Why isn’t anyone else seeing Arthur?”

“You were correct, Merlin. You were my target. The enchantment transforms me into the deepest desire of your heart. To everyone else, I was nobody, a peasant they wouldn’t waste the time to look over twice.”

The silence in the room after is deafening.

Merlin is staring at her with wide owl eyes, utterly horrified.

Gaius is looking at Merlin, perplexed.

“What- what’d- I don’t-“ comes out in a string of syllables. “That can’t possibly be.” He whimpers and then buried his head in his hands.

Poor boy.

Love is a miserable beast.

#merthur #merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur fic #crack fic #from the drafts #Nimueh is lowkey impressed #and pitying

[cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu]

The story of how Mordred called Merlin mom and then proceeded to call Arthur dad and now he's adopted into the family

Author: Me aka @dalazygamerneko

Inspired by @tongjaitongjai merthur idea, check out it out here: 🐓x🐦=🐣

♤•°•♡•°•♤•°•♡•°•♤•°•♡•°•♤•°•♡•°•♤

It was ordinary day. Birds were singing, training went well and the maids were busy but happily chatting.

Nothing could go wrong Mordred thought as he made his way to the afternoon roundtable meeting when he came across Merlin or Emrys as he is known amongst druids, quickly he hid into an alcove and gazed in envy at Lord Emrys, no, Merlin smiling and holding a little boy in his arms.

It's moments like these that he wished he knew his mother longer but he could barely remember her. He watched quietly at the soft look in Merlin's eyes and utter joy upon the little boy's face as they hugged each other, Mordred wondered if his mother would've looked at him the same way Merlin did.

He sighed, leaning back against the stone walls Mordred couldn't help but want to revert back into being a child again just so Merlin wouldn't gaze coldly at him, albeit he probably deserved it for the words of hatred he said in his youth. He knew now Merlin never meant to lead those knights towards his camp. That the warlock was only trying to help Morgana.

"What can I do to earn your trust?"

Mordred shook his head, he'd think of something maybe ask one of the knights for help? He's noticed that Sir Lancelot and Sir Gwaine are closer to Merlin than the other knights.

'They're also the most protective of him' Mordred thought dryly, a crease upon his brow as multiple ideas popped into his mind and many he shot down knowing it won't work.

"Well, I'll just have to hope the triple Goddess guides me." Mordred mumbled, he looked out into the hallway, Merlin was gone, most likely doing chores for the King.

Mordred chuckled as he continued walking, he would never understand the relationship Emrys and the once and future King had with each other. There were times they seem like close comrades begrudging in their respect for one another and then other times they would argue fondly like any old married couple.

Not surprising when plenty of townsfolk as well as even the nobles have speculated in the past if Merlin was being courted by Prince Arthur, to any outsider it certainly looked that way therefore Merlin was given the "mistress" treatment.

Now everyone are wondering(more like waiting impatiently) when will the King announce his engagement to Merlin.

"If I remember correctly, doesn't Sir Gwaine have a bet going on?"

Mordred pondered. 'Yeah, I'll definitely join in. There's no way they're NOT together. I mean, I've seen the lingering stares they give each other as if there is no one around them.'

Soon he was at the doors leading to the roundtable meeting, nodding at the vigilant guards they let him through. His eyes slowly moved over the knights, nobles and some commoners before landing on Merlin who was standing behind the King's chair.

An unassuming figure, most often underestimated but to those who know magic deeply or follow the old religion, Emrys entire being is a vast ocean of wild magic swirling in such a magnitude that no mere mortal could ever understand or harness the power Emrys wields.

Then he locked eyes with Merlin, there is no icy stare thankfully, yet he can still see a hint of wariness in his Lord's gaze.

He bowed his head in acknowledgement before finding a seat next to the gossiping pair Sir Percival and Sir Gwaine.

"I could be at a tavern right now, drinking and charming the barmaid Stella instead I'm stuck here." Gwaine said with a miffed face, his hand gripping the air imagining he was holding a mug of ale.

Elyan who sat across from Gwaine raised an eyebrow, "Isn't Stella old enough to be your grandmother?"

Gwaine smirked whilst shrugging. "Just like wine the older one gets the finer they become, besides she has experience, I'm sure there's a thing or two she could still teach mmph—"

Leon had reached over to clamp Gwaine's mouth shut.

The ginger haired knight had just about enough of hearing Gwaine's tavern tales of debauchery to which he thought was an inappropriate topic to be discussed or heard at the roundtable meeting.

"Sir Gwaine, leave your nightly talks at the tavern only, please."

Gwaine pulled Leon's hand away and smiled cheekily at the older knight.

"Oh, but wouldn't you like to know? Stella has mentioned she likes ginger haired men with beards and I bet she could show you—"

"I am going to strangle you—"

Gwaine leaned back avoiding Leon's hands from trying to keep him quiet again.

"Sir Leon I never knew you were this kinky, I think dear old Stella would like to feel your big strong hands—ack!"

Leon finally got him, unfortunately the meeting was starting, so Gwaine was safe from being throttled by him. However, tomorrow morning during training he'll get his chance.

Mordred along with the rest of the knights chuckled at Sir Gwaine's antics and Sir Leon's annoyed expression.

♤To be continued♤

#forgive me it's still incomplete lol #merlin #merthur #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin #arthur x merlin #merlin x arthur #bbc arthur #bbc mordred #mordred #the knights of the round table #the knights of camelot #fanfic #cinnabon sweetroll tiramisu #canon au #sir gwaine #sir leon the long suffering #sir percival #sir elyan #sir lancelot #mom!merlin #dad!arthur #son!mordred

[bowieandqueen11]

Rosy Cheeks / Gwaine Imagine

Request: MERLIN!!!! I would DIE if you did a Merlin drabble/imagine etc. Gwaine has been the loml since I was 10 and would LOVE something to do with a headstrong maid or tavern barmaid reader and him. Like he is so flirtatious and she doesn't think he's being genuine until Gwen points out the way he talks/looks at her. FLUFF GALORE. This request is 100% self-indulgent but I couldn't resist! Your writing is so lovely and I love that you cover so many fandoms. Do what you want with this, sending good vibes :)

I literally cannot believe I haven’t written for Merlin before I think I cried for about three months after the finale aired Christmas Eve ahh but thank you lovely that’s very kind! <3

Clocking in at nearly 4,100 words, this is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written, and I’m knackered! So please, if you like this, do let me know as this took me a solid 3 days to write! 

(I do not own Merlin or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @babinicz.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

You would know the light tread of Gwaine’s footsteps even in the darkest of dungeons. It was familiar, comforting, and most of the time most welcomed from your best friend, but also incredibly infuriating.

It had already been a long enough day: your boss had started to become distinctly unimpressed by the sight Gwaine gracing his doorway and taking your attention away from serving the drinks until far into the night at every opportunity he could find. Between the large crowd of travellers who had nestled their way into the long tables, spilling their drinks on the lone romantics and starting brawls with the for-hire thugs, sweat was already beginning to cloud your vision. It didn’t help that it had been a warm spring day outside; the verdant fields of Camelot blooming to life with fresh grain and wildflowers cropping their borders rolled past your vision every time you went to stoke the already pounding fire at the left edge of the building. 

Wiping your forehead with the front of your apron, you blow out a sigh as you collect the next round of empty, splattered bowls and chipping mugs, and head back towards the counter, counting down the minutes until Gwen arrives and you can finally roll into bed for some much needed sleep. It doesn’t take very long for all your hopes to be dashed, as the phantom pursuing you like immortal love appears within your line of vision.

‘What’s a pretty maiden like you doing in a dank place like this?’

The face of Gwaine peers over the edge of the tavern’s chipped table like an eager chipmunk: all bright smiles, rosy red cheeks, and a mischievous glint in his eye as he stares straight at you. The crimson tint of his tilted head, as red as a cardinal and twice as beautiful, alludes you to the fact that he had probably already spent half the night in romantic pursuit of various poor patrons at the tavern. The slight pant in his breathe as he spoke clocked you to the fact that it was he you had heard pacing around the tavern, scheming up some new hairbrained joke to swat your way. The droplets of ale he wipes from his stubble with the back of his glove clues you in to the fact that he’s been here, watching you, for a while, waiting for the perfect time to strike when you were most busiest, and, of course, when the tavern owner was watching you with a scowl from the barrels.

Little did you know, in fact, that Gwaine hadn’t quite been wasting the night away waiting for the right moment to strike. He had been pacing with his mug by the doorway: half of him fiddling with the rose he has bought off the old lady outside, preparing himself to finally muster his usual courage and give it to you, and the other half preparing to run back to Camelot and go hide in the armoury till the end of time. He had heard an avalanche of pillows being thrown behind Arthur’s door as he had walked past the corridor earlier, and the familiar sound of Merlin’s wincing cry of  exasperation as he apparently dropped the King’s breakfast on the floor, so he was sure his dear friend would join him in hiding away in the crevices of the castle. Gwen could smuggle them food up from the kitchens, and he’d make Percival keep watch out the door to make sure you would never catch sight of how reticently self-conscious you made the usually so blatant knight.

Yet most of all, Gwaine had spent most of his time shaking his head with a breaking grin, strutting up and down and up and down the entrance and getting in everyone’s way. It was only when Gwen decided to stop in during her daily visit to walk with you back home after your shift, that she finally managed to grab his arm and pull him away from the growing mob of irritated and drunk carousers.

You thump the empty mugs down by his left elbow, grinning as a few drops slosh out and drip over his arm. ‘Gwaine, with all my heart I love you, but if you’re in need of someone to annoy I’m sure Sir Leon has finished with target practice by now.’ Sighing, you lean over him to grab a rag from behind the counter, ignoring the muffled shouts of patrons and wolf whistles to grab your attention.

He seems to flush at your words, shaking his head until his hair splays out over his forehead like a warm dawn’s soft and curling mist. He looks down at his feet, then back to peer at you from behind the safety of his fringe, his eyes burning just as fervently as the gold light of daybreak. It takes him a moment to fall out of his love-struck stupor. In mock offence, he raises a hand and grabs his heart, taking a false stagger back on his heels. He prays you can’t see how fast said heart is pounding in foolish, all encompassing, body devastating, stricken hope. ‘How your words wound me, Y/n! Besides, Leon smells like old goat instead of daffodils and mead. Also... I may owe him a few gold shillings.’

You turn to him with an incredulous look. ‘A few, again!? Already?’ Gwaine just shrugs, and smiles all the brighter as he notices you becoming enticed by his shenanigans. If he could just keep you by him for a few moments longer, perhaps he would find the strength to stop stroking the petals between his gloved fingers and hold it out to you like a proper ‘knight in shining armour trying to woo his true love’ would. ‘I may have said that I could win in a sword fight against Arthur - and I nearly did! If only his trousers hadn’t magically fallen down in the middle of it.’

You press the back of your hand to your nose to try and hide your snort, and Gwaine laughs pleasurably at the sweet sound. Waving away an obviously intoxicated customer who was now slamming his glass up and down on the counter to try and get your attention, you turn away from your now seething boss to look at the blithe knight resting beside you. ‘There is no way that happened. Even I would have heard news of that by now. News seems to travel faster than the crow flies in Camelot.’

Picking up your rag, you turn to move away from the man, but a gentle hand encircles your wrist before you can even take a step. ‘No, please’, he starts with a hitch in his throat. ‘Please don’t go yet. I haven’t finished my tale! Besides... it ends with me fighting a dragon, and being declared the true king of all fair maiden’s hearts by a wizard.’ With a tilted head watching your exasperated feelings flash across your face like zings of magic, Gwaine begins to chuckle through his words. His earthen eyes are dream-like as they trace the outline of your eyes, then the dip of your nose, and further to the bottom curve of your lip, as if you were the brightest beauties of all the heavens rolled into one being.

‘You promise you’re telling me the truth’, you ask, rolling your eyes while trying to hold back your own laughter.

Gwaine unintentionally drags his teeth over his bottom lip as he raises his head up again, wetting the edge of his mouth with a final slight lick of his tongue. His gaze drops for a moment, before sheepishly coming back up to glance at your growingly delighted eyes. His fingers dance a final dainty circle around the pulse point of your wrist, before coming up to draw a quick X in the air above his chainmail. ‘For you Y/n, I’ll even cross my heart.’

‘And you’re definitely not here just to cause me more trouble’, you accuse with a jab at his chest. ‘This isn’t another one of your hairbrained schemes to make me lose my job so I can come work up at the Castle kitchens, is it?’ 

For a moment, just a flicker across his usually radiant face, Gwaine looks crestfallen at the accusation. Whether it was due to the fact that you would think of him in such a way, or the thought in the back of his head that he wanted nothing more than to spend every day working in as close a proximity to you as possible, neither of you are entirely sure. He quickly recuperates himself again, and with a shake of his head and a quick wink in your direction, he’s smiling fondly at you once again. ‘You’re very lucky I like a girl who has a bit of bite with her bark, otherwise you may have just broken my heart.’

You groan, but the man standing in front of you, plain as day as he holds his love out to you on a silver platter, is still hopeful in his smile. 

Distracted for a moment by a weary patron politely tapping you on the shoulder and enquiring as to whether he can purchase some late night grub from this tavern, you don’t notice Gwaine playing back and forth with his hand. After you’ve answered the gentleman, you swing back towards your best friend, who looks as if he’s been caught with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. Wide eyed, he swings his right hand back behind his back and coughs innocently.

‘What in all the kingdoms are you doing?’, you ask him as you narrow your eyes, trying to figure out why the knight looks so daunted. 

With a quizzical frown, you grab onto his shoulder and try to peer around the chainmail engulfing his torso, but with every move you make he matches it with a swivel of his head. His smile never falters, but the edges seem to quiver a little... almost as if he were embarrassed? As if he were bashful at being caught hiding something from you. You drop back down onto the balls of your feet and raise an eyebrow at him, both deeply puzzled but also determined to find out what secret the man, who usually gushed every little detail of his day to you as soon as you met, could be hiding.

‘Now now’, he chides, ‘it’s not polite to ask a knight what he’s hiding behind his back. I could be holding keys to the dungeon, sent on a secret mission by Gaius to infiltrate the castle and release Merlin, especially after Arthur locked him up again for spilling shoe polish all over his pretty new tunic. Or, it could be a powerful artefact, or a relic I won on my quest to slay, you know, that dragon I told you about.’ You lift a hand up and gently slap the side of his cheek a couple of times. Gwaine raises his eyes to the ceiling, chewing the inside of his cheek in humorous anticipation. 

‘Or, you could have injured your hand giving Sir Elyan a piggyback ride to the jousting arena again, and don’t want to tell me about it. Or, even more likely, Arthur managed to knock you on your bottom during your sparring match, and you landed on your wrist like the big fool you are.’

Gwaine scoffs, opening his mouth quickly, his tongue ready with a new witty retort to your brazen appraisal. Before he can reply, though, Gwen has nearly shocked you out of your skin by seemingly appearing out of thin air to grab the side of your arm. With one hand resting on your bicep, her other comes around your other shoulder, and she whispers quietly in your ear: ‘Y/n, may I speak with you for a minute before you finish?’ You nod, and with a final teasing smirk at the knight, you allow Gwen to guide you away towards the fireplace, and through the milling crowd of tipsy drinkers and cheeringly clamorous guests. Gwaine watches you recede through the throng with a pang in his heart, taking the flower out from behind his back and looking at it forlornly as he begins to run his fingers over the velvet petals. 

‘She loves me’, he murmurs, letting them fall through his fingertips. ‘She loves me not.’

If only he could stop flirting for one moment, then perhaps he may have had the chance of being truly happy. With a final sigh, he places the flower between his fingers and heads back out into the crowd.

Thankfully for you both, Gwen had been as good-hearted and observant a friend to you both as she had ever been. Once she had finally managed to persuade Gwaine to approach you, she had settled herself into a corner of the tavern, to watch the confession she knew in her heart was coming. In fact, you had an incredibly wonderful network of kind friends, as Gwen would soon divulge to you, once she had tucked the two of you back into the corner and away from the ears of any passing gossips.

‘Y/n, she started’, letting go of you and glancing back in Gwaine’s general direction with an apprehensive peer. ‘Why on earth aren’t you flirting back with the poor man?’

You stare at her in bemusement. ‘Gwen, my dearest friend’, you grab both her hands within your own, and familiarly begin to rub your thumb over the back of her knuckles. ‘As long as I’ve known Gwaine he’s flirted with any breathing, moving woman. For instance, I remember a certain someone being wooed by said knight only ten minutes after he had set foot in Camelot!’ You swing your joint arms between your chests, and give her a comforting look. ‘He’s a dear, dear friend, just as you are, but he’s not serious Gwen.’

‘Oh Y/n, that was different’, Gwen swings back and forth on her feet, ducking her head as she thinks of the best way to relate to you what poor Gwaine had been so poor at trying to tell. ‘Sir Gwaine may be a flirt, but he loves you.’ Before you can even open your mouth to laugh, or shout, or groan, Gwen has gripped your fingers tighter and pulled you another step towards her. ‘And! And, he’s in love with you. How can you not see it?’

Your mouth stutters for a moment, the flickering of the settling fire warming the growing blush on your cheeks until you wish you could fade back into the shadows. Falling backwards, you trust your friend to catch your fall as you lean against the cobblestone wall and stare, gobsmacked. Gwen only nods fervently at your speechlessness, and you can tell by the seriousness lining her face, by the eagerness in her eyes, that she’s telling the truth.

‘Wh-what?’, you finally manage to muster out after a few seconds shock. ‘We’re... we’re friends. We’re friends! He treats me like a friend, like, like he would talk to any of the knights, or Merlin, or, or you!’

‘That’s not true’, she replies, disappointed. 

‘How do you know?’, you ask in a whisper, afraid to hear the answer.

‘I have eyes! Besides, Merlin told me.’

‘About my crush on Gwaine? That little tattletale-’, you begin to rile up, but Gwen could tell from the way you gnashed your teeth and shook your head that you weren’t seriously angry at your friend. You were just disappointed: devastated, even, by the thought of your friends using your infatuation as a source of teasing.

‘Not about you!’, Gwen was quick to correct. ‘Although... that may have come up, just a little.’ She pinches her fingers together and squeezes her eyes shut in apology at the brimming look of annoyance you give her. ‘More about Gwaine though! Apparently, Sir Leon told him in the strictest confidence’, you laugh at that, knowing your friends too well, ‘that every time he’s passed by the armoury in the last two weeks during his nightly rounds, he’s heard Gwaine’s voice echoing inside, practicing to the shields and crossbows how he’s going to admit his feelings for you!’

That... that startles you. With a languid blink, you take a moment to think, before asking Gwen: ‘did Merlin tell you what he was saying?’ 

Gwen places a finger to her chin. ‘I believe it was something along the lines of: ‘my dearest Y/n, from the first moment I was graced with your company, I knew that you would be the only creature in all the kingdoms to hold my heart, forever.’ Sensing your silence, as you dip your eyes and ponder over her words, your friend continues. ‘Besides, Leon’s not the only one! I heard that Gwaine admitted to Percival, I believe during one of their quests, when they were faced with the Dorocha and of uncertain death, that Gwaine admitted his love too. I think while they were roaming the castle, to try and lighten the mood he told Percival that the first day he had met you in this tavern was the best day of his life, and how he wanted to live so he may return to it once more.’

‘See!’, you finally spring to life, throwing a dirty glance at an old drunkard man who was leaning precariously over his table to lean his ear closer to your conversation. With a final swat of your rag in his general direction, you turn back to the intense conversation at hand. ‘He only admitted he missed the tavern!’

‘No Y/n, if you let me finish, he said that he wanted to return as he had made a promise to himself, all those years ago, that he was going to marry you one day. Do you really find it no coincidence that as soon as Camelot was saved, you were the first person he sought out?’

‘He did hug me rather tight’, you murmur, crossing your arms over your chest and chiding yourself for being so blind. ‘Oh Gwen, how could I have been such a fool too? How can I fix this? He must hate me for the way I’ve treated him.’

Before you can finish your musing thought, Gwen has stepped forward to wrap you in a tight hug, squeezing your shoulders before letting go. Sliding her arms down to your waist, she shakes her head. ‘No one could ever hate you, Y/n. And the solution is simple. Go tell him.’

Glancing out across the tavern hall with worry lines deepening your eyes, your heart is relieved to spot Gwaine still milling about; he seems to be entrenched deeply in an arm wrestle with some young, muddy looking farmer, but you can tell his heart isn’t really in to win. Over the course of your conversation with Gwen, he’s spent every excusable reason to glance over his shoulder and back at you. To make sure you were safe. To make sure no one was hassling you. To make sure Gwen wasn’t going to break your heart by indulging his true feelings for you. To make sure you weren’t about to push through the crowd and run out the door, disgusted by the idea. His eyes met yours: aflame, tense, deep set in their worry, and he’s quick to look back down at his elbow again.

How could it really have taken you so long? To realise that his bitten, plump lips, his rosy cheeks, his overwhelming joy was all solely from the thought of you?

With a resolute gasp, you allow Gwen to gently push you off in his direction, despite how thunderously your pulse was flickering through your body. You nod, and let your feet direct your path, not giving yourself a moment to think over the implications of the incoming interaction. After what feels like an eternity of treading water, you come to an uncertain stop behind the three men. Although Gwaine is still chatting with the green-clad man he had been wrestling innocently with earlier, the other crop gatherer seems to have fallen asleep on the table, his crossed arms pushing his mug of ale until it rested against his nose.

Mustering determination, you quickly prod Gwaine three times against his cape, taking a worried step back as he quickly turns to look at you once again. ‘You just couldn’t stay away’, Gwaine remarks with a warm smile when you finally garner the courage to approach the table he’s currently leaning over. ‘I can’t blame you, not many can.’ With his thumb, he points over at the young man gently beginning to snore on the opposite end of the table. ‘This poor lad grew so tired of my wit and charm he had to close his eyes for a bit.’

He stands up, giving a final wink and a nod at his short-lived companions. His tall frame hunches over you as he steps forward, blocking out the rest of the flitting candlelight from the east end of the tavern; the front of his chainmail brushes against where your hands are bunched into the coarse linen of your apron, sending a jolt flying along your fingertips. He seems to be casing you into his very being, that same soft - so soft dopey smile breaking like dawn across his face as he appraises you from above.

Before he can start whittling off again, and you lose your garnered nerve, you break the laden silence by asking Gwaine the most important question you could think of in that moment.

‘What were you hiding behind your back?’

Gwaine seems taken aback by your query, visibly raising his eyebrows as he begins to bite his bottom lip again. You know him to well to think him puzzled: he’s worried, scared that Gwen may have told you the truth, and you have come waltzing over to tell him off, and in doing so, cleave his heart clean in two.

‘Do you - do you really want to know?’, he asks uncertainly, taking the flower out from where he had stored it in his belt for safekeeping, before placing it behind his back once more. You’re swift to reach around his waist, skirting your pointer finger over the bone until you meet his hand. He gives it to you easily, his palm warm and laden with scars as he allows you to unfurl his fingers.  

‘I think... I think I already do’, you reply with a hitched breath, enjoying the way Gwaine has taken to rubbing the tips of your knuckles as you press against his palm. Before you can lift the flower, though, he’s already using his free hand to tuck a strand of hair back from your ear. With a careful precision he’s obviously spent many nights over the years practicing, and doting on within his dreams, he tucks the stem of the flower behind your ear.

‘Well, I’m glad’, he states, dropping the back of his own knuckles down the side of your cheek, until he’s cupping your jaw. Your pulse point races against his skin as he dips his head down with a flash of pearly whites, not satisfied until he feels your nose bump against the tip of his own. ‘For I fear it has been my quest in life to find you, and love you till the end of days.’

‘Hmm, and a knight must never fail’, you mutter between laughter against the side of his mouth.

His voice is stricken: as serious as you’ve ever heard the rebellious man speak, and you know he has choked trying to speak these words many times before. 

‘I don’t intend to.’

A rapturous wave of applause seems to fill the serene air (even your grumpy old boss manages to roll his eyes and pound the table a little), so dreamlike in its warmth, as Gwaine leans down fully to kiss you. His arms wrap around your waist, seeming to pull you in their vice like grip impossibly close to his chest, until the air you both breathe seems to be one and the same. You can feel him smile against your top lip as he tenderly places a second, lingering, caressing kiss against it, before pulling away to look at you.

Before either of you can breathe out a sigh of relief, though, you’re interrupted by the sound of Gwen cheering from the fireplace. The two of you finally break out in laughter, then, doubling over together and holding onto your stomachs as Gwen covers her mouth with her hand in embarrassment. 

#merlin #gwaine #gwaine x reader #gwaine imagine #merlin imagine #sir gwaine #sir gwaine imagine #sir gwaine x reader #bbc merlin #x reader #eoin macken #merlin bbc #bbc merlin imagine #merlin fanfic #merlin fanfiction #gwaine fluff

[artzzyb00-27]

Tavern Tales{Elyan x OC}

Robin Hood and his Merrymen meet the Knights of the Round Table. Along with King Arthur and Merlin. What could go wrong? Not much actually, but Elyan deserves more love so here you go.

Arriving at Camelot came a minstrel, one came from a land near Mercia. Who sang tales of Robin Hood and his legion of Merrymen. The people gathered round to hear the tale. The rhythm of the tale became engraved in everyone's head.

Robin Hood and Little John, walking through the forest

Laughing back and forth at what the other'n has to say

Reminiscing this and that and having such a good time

Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day

Never ever thinking there was danger in the water

They were drinking, they just guzzled it down

Never dreaming that a scheming sheriff and his posse

Was a-watching them and gathering around

Robin Hood and Little John, running through the forest

Jumping fences, dodging trees and trying to get away

Contemplating nothing but escape and finally making it

Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day

Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day

Eventually, the word made its way to King Uther. He wasn't pleased with the thought of rogues attempting to steal from nobles. So he sent his knights to disband the group. Out of the twelve that left, only five returned. When Arthur became king, he wondered what happened to the group of Merrymen, he had only heard stories in passing at the tavern whilst spending time with his knights and manservant.

Till one faithful day.

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"Merlin! Feed the horses, they're no use to us dead!" The knights could only watch amused at the banter between King and servant. Wondering if they would ever become a normal pair of serving and be served.

"Unlike you right?" Dodging a blow to the head, Merlin ran off to feed their trusty steeds. Turning back to his knights Arthur addressed Leon.

"Where to next?" Looking at the map in front of the curly-haired man, he looked up to his majesty awaiting an answer. The long trip from Mercia taking its toll on the man.

"If we head through the Plains of Othanden, we'll cut travel time by a day. As long as there's no trouble with that my lord?"

"None at all, Sir Leon."

"Speak for yourselves, I'm famished." Gwaine, the lazy oaf he is, dragged out as he leaned on Percival who shook his head fondly. Once the horses were ready, they made haste to cut through the plains as best they could. 

With Lancelot keeping Merlin from going insane and Gwaine sharing stories with Elyan and Percival, it made the trip bearable. Arthur and Leon would only chip in their two silvers when necessary(when they wanted to). Once near the edge of Camelot, they spotted a village nearby.

"It's getting dark, we should rest in the village. Have some time to gather our energy." Merlin suggested. Thinking it over, Arthur agreed and led his friends to the village. Once there, people around whispered. Some are in awe of the king and his knights. Others appeared worried.

At this Merlin became paranoid. So he listened in more carefully at the villagers.

"Why are,..... think they'll,..... hope they,... what of,...?" Fortunately, one question was clear as day. "Do ya' wonder what Robin Hood will think?"

Merlin wanted to freeze in his tracks but his horse kept him along the others. Robin Hood was here. The man from tales at the tavern who stole from the rich and gave to the poor. Honorable, but bad news if he tried stealing from Arthur.

No gold or valuables were on them, but Arthur wouldn't hesitate to kill if attacked. Merlin prayed Robin Hood was smarter than that.

Once at a decent-looking Inn, they left their horses to the stable boy and left to a nearby tavern for a light dinner. Or drink in Gwaine's case. A table maid sat them at a window booth and took their orders. Gwaine had attempted to woo her.

It gave the others amusement especially when she was particularly interested in Lancelot. She was making the man bashful and he tried to give attention to Gwaine again.

After she walked away, music began playing louder and cheers were heard. Turning their heads to see the commotion, they saw a bright red-haired woman dancing on the bar along to the beat of the song.

Her hair was in a braid and she wore boots with baggy wool socks. Black pants that sagged at her lower legs and a white blouse that brought out her purple bodice. It seemed she was there alone. 

When the violin played a certain chord, she jumped in the air towards the chandelier and swung in circles everyone around her. Including the visitors from Camelot.

Landing on a table nearby causing the men sitting there to fall over from shock, she continued to dance. Spinning around and swaying her hips along with the music. Getting wolf whistles from men and cheers of praise from women.

Entranced by her dancing, Elyan didn't hear the praise coming from his friends.

"She's good," Arthur said. Leon nodded while taking sips from his drink. Leon nodded his head in agreement.

"Elyan agrees, right mate?" Gwaine said laughing at his friend. Looking besotted at the bold red-head across from them. As the song ended she jumped off the table landing gracefully, giving a bow to the patrons around her. The knights and everyone else raised their glasses to her.

As she went to sit at an empty seat at the bar, Elyan debated on speaking with her.

"If you stare, she'll only think badly of you." Merlin's voice brought him back to reality as his friends sniggered at him. Turning towards the blue-eyed man, Elyan couldn't help but roll his eyes.

A woman as beautiful as her wouldn't be interested in him dressed like a peasant. When they headed into their rooms Leon implied it wise to change into something less formal for their trip to the tavern.

While the others agreed, Elyan couldn't deny he felt stripped. Despite Arthur's reassurance, being from no noble blood made him feel small. Even worse when some common folk looked at him in contempt. Which wasn't always because of his position or origin.

"I'd rather not. Besides she must feel tired, why keep beating a dead horse?" At his words the knights became rigid. Apart from Merlin and Gwaine who held in laughs.

"Because maybe it'll come back to life?" A different voice spoke behind him. An angelic voice. Turning around with a confused expression, Elyan met eyes with the redhead. Her green eyes glimmer despite facing away from the light. He tried to envision what they would look like in the afternoon sun.

"Perhaps that's true." He said after much debate internally, which was hilarious to his friends. Although, it did bring a smile out of her so maybe it worked.

"Glad to know someone thought my performance was exceptional."

"Very, love the bit where you jumped and almost hit the ceiling." Closing her eyes and laughing she headed off to another table shaking her head. She sat down at a table a good feet away chatting with some men sitting and drinking.

"Were you complimenting her or insulting her?" Lancelot may be honorable to anyone else, but his companions were at their wits end with him.

After getting their orders they headed off to the inn to get rest for tomorrow's journey home. Still while lying down on the bed next to Percival's he kept thinking back to the girl. He never got her name.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning they awoke and had a small breakfast. Just something to keep them awake for the start of the path. That is til someone broke into the inn screaming their head off.

"Robin Hood's attacked! Lord John isn't happy!" The people near the door piled out, including the knights. They had heard the tales but had never seen it in person. Now was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

"Robin Hood?" Arthur asked a patron who just shrugged their shoulders with a smile. Outside the village, people gathered around the middle fountain and grabbed bags of money from the Merrymen.

"Should we do something?" Leon whispered in Arthur's ear and he was debating himself. While they were meant to arrest outlaws, Robin wasn't an outlaw of Camelot. Uther had just been threatened by an outside power that most likely didn't even know of his existence.

"No, they're not a problem as long as they don't attack us. We should go."

And like that, they left. Leaving the village and heading into the forest was browsing but the mood and energy picked up when Gwaine began picking on Elyan again.

"So, did you end up getting her name or what Elyan?" Rolling his eyes he gave his friend a gentle glare.

"No, and for good reason. I'll never see her again. What's the point?"

"Don't speak like that Elyan, there are plenty of women who would love a courtship with Camelot's finest knights," Arthur said trying to console his friend which prompted Merlin to have his usual go at him.

"Makes you wonder why Gwen ever chose you." The knights 'Ooo'ed at this and the king simply threw a fake glare at his manservant. Looking past Merlin, he saw a group of horses running up to them.

Realizing it was the Merrymen, Arthur became tense. Noticing, the Knights drew their swords and turned to the charging quarry behind them. When they got close they slowed down and stopped a few feet away from them.

The figure in front of a white horse spoke from under the hood and mask.

"Relax boys, we know you don't have anything, we're just trying to get through. We're making a stop at Camelot. A friend of ours needs help."

"Who's this friend of yours? Perhaps we could assist you, after all, I would like to be more involved with my people."

The statement ran through the Merrymen. Except for the two in front.

"Her name is Marian and she needs money. Please let us through, she doesn't trust any type of nobility." Frowning Arthur went to retort but Merlin stopped him.

"Arthur no, let them come with us."

"He's right, it could give us a chance to keep an eye on them." Leon reasoned out Merlin's input.

"I for one would love to hear the real story of the mighty Robin Hood." A small chuckle from the opposite group could be heard. Guess they weren't as quiet as they'd hoped.

Elyan however, was more focused on the main hooded figure. Their laughter sounded familiar. Angelic almost.

"What do ya' think Robin?" The man next to the leader asked. The leader whispered and agreement and let the man next to him go up to Arthur.

The knights could tell he wasn't being threatening so they sheethed their swords back in their holsters.

"Very well, we'll accompany you. My name is John."

"Little John?" Percival asked gesturing at the man's size. Like Percival he was big and bulky, the only difference being a darker tone of skin and a subtle belly on him.

Laughter from John and the group startled birds out of the trees. They were called Merrymen for a reason.

"You're her! That girl from the tavern last night!" The Merrymen froze and exchanged looks. Some of them looked at their leader questioningly. Huffing out a small laugh only confirmed Elyan's belief and made him flustered.

The girl pulled off her hood and revealed wavy bright red hair that glowed in the morning sun.

"You got me!" She said and made her horse walk closer to Elyan. "Glad to see my biggest fan again." Smiling at her comment, Elyan went to speak but was interrupted.

"You were flirting with Robin Hood!" Gwaine was going to get beat when they got back to Camelot.

------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"So how did people think you were a man? Don't think anything different, but your physique isn't very masculine." Arthur asked as they sat in the knight's quarters back in the castle. The trip had let Elyan and the others learn about the Merrymen's travels and adventures.

Their recent heists. Any gone wrong attempts that required daring rescues. Including any potential romances whilst on the road.

"I needed people to respect what I was doing, not patronize me for it. So when the minestrel we saved asked to write a song about us I told him to make me male."

"Certainly fooled me, I thought you were a prat like Arthur." That comment earned Merlin a good wallop to the head creating laughter throughout the room.

"Tell us more." Elyan urged Robin leaning back on the bench next to her.

"Well, there was the time we invaded Cendred's castle unnoticed."

#sir elyan #elyan #merlin bbc #bbc merlin fics #merlin #merlin bbc fanfic #arthur pendragon #gwaine #lancelot #leon #percival #guinevere #robin hood #knights of the round table #sir leon #bbc elyan #elyanfest2024 #ao3 fanfic

[daisymintt]

WIP Wednesday

Arthur, Merlin, and Arthur’s closest circle of knights were sitting in a tavern after a long day of traveling. Merlin was exhausted and couldn’t wait to fell into his bed and sleep but Arthur had insisted that they all should celebrate meaning he wouldn’t get to rest until nearly morning and only after dragging Arthur’s drunk hide to his room.

Gwaine had wondered off to flirt with a scullery maid Merlin recognized from the citadel kitchens. If he remembered correctly her name was Mabel. She was relatively new but she had seemed nice enough from the limited interactions they’ve had. He was only halfway through his first mug of ale when Gwaine none to gracefully sat back down at their table, dragging the scullery maid with him and knocking the table as he did cause an uproar of complaints from the others.

“Aye, you’ll never guess what this lovely lass just told me! Go ahead love, tell ‘em.” Gwaine gave Mabel’s hand an encouraging squeeze. Arthur set his mug down for the moment and leaned towards them, intrigued. She smiled shyly and nervously tucked a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear before relaying what she had told Gwaine to them, “The other day one of the other scullery maids warned me about the ghost that haunts the halls of the citadel and to always carry with me a sprig of sage to ward off the spirit.”

Merlin nearly choked on his drink and coughed roughly a few times to clear his lungs. He’d heard about the ghost when he had first became Arthurs manservant but hadn’t paid the stories any heed at the time thinking that they where just that, stories. Now he was beginning to wonder if he should’ve looked into them more. Percival shifted in his seat uncomfortably and glanced over his shoulder as if he saw something, Leon looked unimpressed by the tale, Elyan was more interested in what was in his mug, and Lancelot was enthralled.

Arthur furrowed his brow, his lips downturned in a frown, “What ghost?”

Mabel’s eyes widened in surprise and she stuttered out, “My apologies, my Lord, I thought you knew. The ghosts of King Bruta, Queen Honora, and their children. They say the haunting s started soon after your father came to power since… you know… he killed them when he conquered Camelot in his youth. They say their spirits are most active near the abandoned parts of the citadel especially around Samhain.”

Arthur’s lips were pressed thin by the end of the tale as he stared into his now empty mug, lost in thought. Gwaine didn’t seem to notice Arthur’s obvious discomfort and continued on in excitement, “I’ve never seen an actual ghost before we should totally check it out! Or are you lot to chicken?”

That caught their attention. Never ones to back down from a challenge they loudly proclaimed that they aren’t chickens and agreed to meet by the old throne room after the feast of Samhain. They all looked rather pleased with themselves except Arthur who looked unsettled and nervous.

~*~*~*~

A few weeks later Samhain was upon them. There was a bite in the air that left one longing for the warmth of their beds and the leaves where starting to change color from the lively green of summer to the vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows of the harvest season. Arthur hadn’t brought up the ghost since that night but Merlin would often find him staring off deep in thought. Merlin had planned to sneak off the the abandoned throne room early in hopes of dealing with the ghost himself but found himself caught up in preparations for the festivities and wasn’t able to get away.

The feast was decadent, food and wine flowing freely while the Nobles happily hobnobbed with one and other. As the festivities drew to a close Arthur got restless, shifting in his seat waiting impatiently for a chance to excuse himself for the night. The knights had left not long ago, presumably waiting for him and Merlin at the rendezvous point. Finally, Arthur seized his chance and quickly excused himself, Merlin followed close behind. They found the knights all congregating around the entrance to the abandoned parts of the citadel, the old oak doors stood tall and firm untouched except by decades of dust.

Gwaine’s arms were loaded up with candles and a suspiciously wrapped bundle that Arthur choice not to ask about. Arthur fished the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door with a much to loud click

#bbc merlin #the adventures of merlin #arthur pendragon #king arthur #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #merlin #merlin fanfic #writing wip #wip fic #my wips #wip #current wip #wip wednesday #merlin fic #merlin fanfiction #fanfics #fanfic writing #fanfiction #halloween #spooky #spooky fanfic #halloween fic #ghost

[the-pen-pot]

It Only Takes A Spark

Summary: Arthur sees something he shouldn't have, and realises everything he is missing. (Also on AO3)

------

Arthur stepped out of the door or the Rising Sun, leaving the easy laughter and revelry of the other patrons behind him.

Once, his trips to the tavern had been few and far between. Gwaine had changed all that. For all that he was a long-haired irritant in Arthur's life, he had to admit that the man was observant. He had taken one look at them – the Crown Prince and his chosen knights – and decided they needed a place where they could bond. Somewhere away from the castle and Uther's disapproving gaze.

The knights were not the only ones who had claimed the private room above the inn’s main bar as their refuge. Normally, Merlin would be with them, not as a servant but as a friend, fleecing them at dice and brightening the room with his irreverent jibes and that wicked smile.

Tonight, however, he'd made his excuses: something about collecting night-blooming herbs for Gaius. Arthur would deny until his dying breath that Merlin's absence was his reason for cutting out after only two pints of mead, but his knights did not care about his reasons. Instead, they had given him those same patient, disbelieving looks – the kind that bordered on treason and implied he was an idiot.

At least they didn't say it out loud, unlike some people.

Now, the warm evening air closed around Arthur like a velvet glove as he made his way back towards the castle. This close to midsummer, the sky did not truly darken until late, and a soft dusk collected in Camelot's streets, chased off by the braziers lit at street corners.

His father would have insisted a guard accompany him, but Arthur was not concerned for his safety. He was armed, and no more than a touch relaxed from his drinks. If anyone made an attempt on his life, they'd be run through before they had a chance to do more than lunge for him.

Still, he would not be so foolish as to completely let down his guard. It was second nature to be watchful as he left the Lower Town and entered the nicer area closer to the castle. Here the air was perfumed with the heady scent of the delicate roses that rambled over the walls of the merchant's houses, and the streets carried with them a fragile sort of peace.

It was romantic enough, Arthur supposed, hiding a smile as he noticed two shadowy figures sharing passionate kisses against the alley wall by the Horse and Hare, the inn favoured by the wealthier of Camelot's traders.

They were oblivious to him, lost in each other's caresses. Normally, he would have ignored them, diverting his eyes and carrying on towards the castle. That was his intention, right up until the one against the wall tipped back his head with a groan, his face slipping from shadow to light as his lover turned their attentions to the column of his throat.

Merlin.

Arthur had no real memory of drawing himself into the pools of gloom that lined the street, ducking into the mouth of a narrow, cobble-lined path between two houses. Darkness covered him in its mantle, and he braced his hand against the wall, his breathing unnaturally loud in his ears as his heart pounded out a fretful, ragged beat. 

A surge of something raced through his body, striking a confusion of sparks as it went. Pain fluttered in his belly even as heat traced its lines down his thighs. Sweat itched between his shoulder-blades. He was struck by a desperate need to move, not away, but forward: quick, angry strides. He wanted to drag the blond stranger – not some sweet young maid, but someone broad-shouldered and strong – away, to snarl and snap until he left and stopped touching...

He swallowed hard, feeling like his skin was too tight, prickling and sharp. He did not know what to do with himself. Escape would be the best option. He should flee back to the castle and put this from his mind, but he was locked in place, helpless to do anything but stare.

He had never seen Merlin like that: his lashes painting dark fans on his cheeks and his lips flushed with kisses. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the flex of his forearms as he gripped his lover's hip, holding him close.

The stranger leaning into Merlin's space shifted, angling his head and doing something to Merlin's neck – biting maybe. The noise that escaped Merlin's lips ghosted over the still night air, rough and needy, igniting Arthur's body like a lightning strike. His laces felt tight over the hardness of his swelling cock, and he pressed against it with the heel of his palm, stifling a sound as his hips gave a helpless little grind.

This wasn't who he was, hiding in the dark and watching. He did not want to be a voyeur. It was Merlin who held Arthur here, enchanted, torn between captivation and the bitter surge of jealousy.

He tried to excuse it in his head, remembering that it was a long time since he had lain with anyone. Needs had a way of creeping up on a man, only to pounce, but that was a gossamer lie at best. This, his reaction, was less about what two men were doing together in the shadows and far more about the fact that one of them was Merlin.

Gods.

Merlin was a grown man, attractive, despite the ears. It was simply that Arthur had never allowed himself to imagine him like that: flushed with passion, warm and willing. Every time his mind had started to stray in that direction, he had reined it in.

Now, to have not just vague imaginings hastily stifled, but the actual image of Merlin right in front of him – still clothed, still decent – but wrecked all the same, had smashed apart all of Arthur's carefully constructed boundaries like a siege engine.

How was he meant to look at Merlin and not see this? How was he supposed to meet that sparkling blue gaze and not imagine himself in that stranger's place, crowding Merlin against a wall and wringing those tight noises from his lips?

A flicker of movement tore him from his thoughts, and he watched as the stranger eased himself back, holding out a hand in invitation. They didn't utter a word – they didn't need to. It was a communication of darkened eyes and flushed cheeks – a bid to find somewhere private to finish what they had started.

Arthur told himself he didn't care what Merlin did. It meant nothing to him when those long-fingers – surprisingly deft over Arthur's armour and sword for someone so clumsy – slid into the other man's palm. A moment later, he pulled Merlin away, no doubt intent on finding somewhere more comfortable to pursue their pleasure to its summit.

Arthur let out a ragged breath, sagging back against the wall of his hiding place. The weathered bricks bore his weight as he gritted his teeth, painfully hard and dizzy with want. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he closed his eyes, trying to will the heat that surged through his frame to ebb. It was a losing battle, but one he fought all the same, forcing his body back under his control.

So much for "gathering herbs", he thought, a fresh surge of unflattering jealousy blazing through his chest. Was that what Merlin had really been doing, on those occasions he had ducked out of spending time with his friends? Had he claimed he was doing chores for Gaius, when really he was losing himself in the touch of another?

Arthur grimaced, opening his eyes to stare up at the narrow strip of night sky above his head, where the stars were starting to glimmer. How Merlin spent his free time was none of his concern, yet he could not help the bitter churn of his emotions: a thin veneer of anger over a stupid, helpless sort of hurt. Morgana always said he was bad at sharing anything he thought of as his. He had just never consciously placed Merlin in that category.

At least until now.

'Ridiculous.'

Pushing himself away from the wall, he winced, adjusting the front of his breeches before checking the coast was clear and stepping back out onto the street. It did not matter what he had seen or what he had felt. The sparks of dazzling awareness that skittered over his skin would fade. The high, eager hum of want, not just for anyone, but for Merlin's in particular, would dim. Arthur's world, so rudely tilted on its axis, would set itself to rights once more.

He would awaken tomorrow to Merlin's obnoxious cheerfulness, and he would think nothing of tonight and all that he had witnessed. It would be forgotten, and everything would return to normal. He was resolved. Merlin was his manservant and, Arthur could grudgingly admit, his friend, but that was where it ended. Merlin's love would always belong in the hands of another. He could never be Arthur's, not like that.

Not now, and not ever.

#Merlin #Merthur #My Fanfic

[vay99]

Gwaine x reader (flower prince)

"Where's the groom, been stood up at the altar?" the bar tender huffs, placing the beer you've ordered in front of you.

"More like the other way around." you mumble to yourself, taking a few sips from your beer.

"Could it be that you're, perhaps, looking for a new husband?" a charming voice catches your attention. "You look absolutely stunning my lady."

"I am aware of that."

"You're not interested in a flirt I guess."

"I'm currently sick of men."

"Fair enough, then what about a drinking bud to whom you can complain about men all day?" the man offered with an interesting charm.

"If that drinking bud would tell me his name I might consider it."

"Gwaine, and how may I address my lady?" Gwaine bows slightly, a playful smile dancing on his lips.

"It's (y/n)."

"So, (y/n), there's an endless amount of reasons why you should be fed up with men, what is yours?" he asks while sitting down at your small table.

"Well, my father. He wanted me to marry some prince from another kingdom, the one who's 4th to the throne. And I did not fancy to marry a guy for anything but love." you explain your situation. "That guy is horrible, treats his servants like shit and shows no respect towards women."

"So your father and your fiance... they really sound like people you don't wanna be around. You've got no where to go do you?"

"I've known king Arthur since we were children, I thought that I could find shelter within Camelot." you drown the rest of your drink before continuing. "Ah, I've missed this, wine is nice but a beerP in a noisy, chaotic tavern is unbeaten."

"I couldn't agree more my lady."

Right then some guy lands on your table and the whole bar erupts in fights.

"Care to leave?"

"Sounds like a plan!" you agree with Gwaine, grab your belongings and head towards the door. Some guy jumps towards Gwaine but he knocks him out with one punch. "Not bad." you kick a man, who launched at you, out of your way.

"I can only return that compliment."

A few more fights later you've finally left the tavern, running towards your horses.

"Is that the emblem of Camelot?" you question your new friend who's holding your horse as you climb into you'd saddle.

"I might have forgotten to mention that I'm a knight of Camelot." Gwaine chuckles, getting onto the back of his horse as well and riding towards the castle.

"What does a knight do out here in a tavern?"

"We've got but one tavern within the castle, sometimes you just need to be around people who do not just see you as a knight." he explains himself, riding a bit faster to catch up to you.

"Fair point, shall I call you Sir Gwaine then?"

"You can call me anything you like my lady."

A few more flirts later you arrive in Camelot, gaining weird stares form everyone but Gwaine seems to be used to this.

"Why is she wearing a wedding dress?"

"I don't know, what has Sir Gwaine done this time?"

"Wait isn't that Lady (y/n)?"

Hearing people whisper you're more than glad when you arrive at the castle yard, getting off your horse. Gwaine leads you directly to Arthur who takes time to listen to your whole story, alongside Gwen and Merlin.

"You can stay here in Camelot as long as you wish Lady (y/n). Merlin prepare a room. I will discuss Lords (fathers/n) decision with the court." with that the king excuses himself and leaves, together with Merlin, you two alone.

"You're save now (y/n)." Gwen holds your hand, reassuring you that you've found a new home. "You weren't able to bring all of your belongings with you have you? Let's see which ones of my dresses fits you."

"I was able to pack but one outfit besides this and a few belongings that are dear to me, I appreciate this Gwen." you smile at your friend, whom you've seen the last time at her wedding which was over a year ago.

You used to visit Camelot as a child with your parents, you became friends with Arthur and Morgana, when Gwen became her maid you quickly became friends with her as well as Merlin. The only knight you've met so far was Leon, and well Gwaine a few hours ago. So it won't be that difficult to feel at home within this castle.

A month has passed since you fled from your wedding and you already have a routine you wouldn't wanna miss out on.

"M'lady." you hear a knock on your door, right after you finished getting dressed.

"Come in Sir Gwaine." you stress the Sir, knowing it'll make him laugh, watching said knight enter your chambers.

"You're looking as lovely as always." he bows and kisses your hand.

"And you're as flirty as always." you chuckle at Gwaine who's not wearing his armor today.

After the last two weeks of you training with the knights, and beating them all Arthur decided to make you teach the knights of the round table, beginning tomorrow. That meant you would have a whole day to yourself, or so you thought.

"I have a wonderful day planned for the two of us."

"Oh is that so?" despite saying you're sick of men when you first met him you must admit that his flirting is getting through to you.

"I'd like to invite you to a picnic, Merlin helped me prepare a basket with some food and a blanket, and getting the horses ready."

"Sounds like he put more work into our date than you did." you hum playfully, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

"No, I helped him with the horses, he's just, you know, fixing the last details- You said date didn't you?" he points a finger at you, a smilie creeping onto his lips.

"I might have, let's figure that out during our picnic, shall we?" you link your arm in his and together you head towards the horses.

"Have you picked this place yourself?" you ask as you arrive at a colorful flower field.

"Actually I haven't, Merlin spottet and told me about it. I just thought that it'd be a great place to make a flower crown for you, my princess." he bows once again, kissing your hand.

Laying down the blanket and placing the basket with food in it you two start eating the few vegetables packed in there and a loaf of bread with toppings. You weren't sure if either Arthur or Gwen were involved in this or if Gwaine stole some food from the kitchen, together with Merlin. Both scenarios were quite amusing.

"Shouldn't you be focusing on the flower crown you're making?" you question after noticing his eyes upon you.

"I rarely get to see you in a dress and it's a captivating view."

"You did see me in my wedding dress already." you state, causing Gwaine to chuckle.

"And you looked absolutely stunning in that one as well." Gaines continues to compliment you. "And I wouldn't mind seeing you in it again."

"I still have it."

"You do?"

"Yeah, thought I'd better throw it away but decided to keep it. Maybe I'll let it renewed for my wedding one day."

"Renew it? But it already makes you look like a goddess, how could it get any better than that?" he asks, continuing to work on the flower crown.

"Because the groom isn't supposed to see his bride in her dress before the wedding." you hope he gets what you mean, despite his flirting he can be oblivious to plenty of things.

"It's been a month and you're planning our wedding already?"

"I might just have." you admit, finishing your flower crown.

"Good, good." Gwaine finishes his flower crown as well. "Because I might have as well."

Sitting there in comfortable silence you watch his hair dance in the wind and how his eyes don't leave yours. Gwaine is the one breaking the silence.

"Proposing would be too early wouldn't it?"

"Maybe a little."

"Would you mind being my flower princess then?" he hold out his flower crown, and you've got to admit that this is the most creative way of asking to date you.

"If you'd be my flower prince, yes." you agree, making Gwaine smile brighter than he ever has. As you place the flower crowns on each other's heads you share a sweet kiss.

"Don't think that I'll spare you with the training just because we're a couple now." you remind him.

"That's why I love you, my princess."

#Merlin #Merlin x reader #Gwaine #Sir Gwaine #Gwaine x reader #eoin macken #the merlin fandom ain't dead yet

[fluffypotatey]

I wish Freya had stayed alive, either with her curse broken or controlled, and instead of "Merlin's at the tavern," it's "Merlin's seeing his ~girlfriend," which they still think means he's at the tavern bc that's more believable.

Better if she's given control of the Bastet, bc then Merlin could be like "hm, I need backup. Time for my secret weapon," and it's his tiny 5'4" gf who can throw a man through a wall with one hand. "Hey, Gwen, look, I found you a lady's maid!"

Everyone else: Whoa, she's real???

Merlin: ??? Yes?!

FREYA AS GWEN'S MAID MY BELOVED

#ANON YOU GENIUS #YOU BEAUTIFUL GENIUS #I WANNA SQUISH YOU #no but like imagine ok after all the drama with sefa and gwen being sad because she can't trust anyone new bc she's the queen now #and maybe she confesses this to merlin who then vents about it to freya who then offers to be gwen's handmaid T^T #THEY WOULD BE THE BEST OF FRIENDS #OR YA KNOW WE GET A OT4 OUT OF IT #merwenthurya? #but like freya being freed from the curse and having her magic (mayhaps) and helping merlin with his adventures #merlin just slotting freya into camelot's staff like she was always there and no one questions him #THE POSSIBILITIES #THE POTENTIAL #*sobs hysterically* #your honor i need this to be a thing #please your honor you don't understand #bbc merlin #freya #merlin emrys #guenivere #asks #Anonymous #headcanons

[abluescarfonwaston]

“Sometimes I just want to steal a horse and ride away from Camelot as fast as I can and leave everyone else to figure out this bullshit you know!”

Gwaine nodded. “Got a bag packed at all times for that exact reason.”

The tankard of ale stopped its angry journey to Merlin’s lips. “You have a bag packed?” Gwaine considered leaving enough that he kept a bag packed?

“Course. Who knows when I’ll need to make a quick exit.” He laughed with a hearty swig. “Give me the word and we can ride out.”

The devastation on Merlin’s face shifted to confusion. “We?”

“Yeah.” He smacked their tankards together. Cheeks red with drink. “What- think I’m going to let you tour all the taverns of Albion without me?”‘

“Oh. “ He beamed all at once. “No. Course not.”

They didn’t ride out that night. But it was nice to know he’d have Gwaine with him if he ever did.

#merwaine #mmmmm #just thinking of merlin and gwaine #and merlin getting so frustrated hes like I'm oging to run away! #And Gwaine is just like YEP OKAY LETS GO #and they ride away for like 2 days before Merlin's guilt makes them turn around #and maybe they have some good talks about things #and Gwaine is more than a little in love #Arthur has good friends huh? Not arthur #and they roll back up on camelot and merlin feels so much better for the experience #and of course 'wHERE HAVE YOU BEEN' Tavern with gwaine. 'FOR 2 DAYS???' yes #actually that tracks go to work #and Arthur who knows Gwaines pinning is like Eyebrow wiggle just drinking? #Merlin who is so dense to romantic shit Yes. #Percival after listening to Gwaine moon for the next 3 hours: ... #you just need ot be direct with merlin. he doesn't get hints #remember that bar maid that asked him to marry her and what he said? #Aw thank you- wasn't she just so sweet? I love making friends #Merlin is so dumb- hes briliant but hes so dumb

[c0mplex-heroes]

@theelectusrex​ CONTINUED FROM [X]

"Long enough." The cheeky grin gave him away. Pendragon was leaning on the doorframe as another coughed behind him. "I can't see, Arthur. What's happening?" Merlin hissed, but he paid him no heed. "So pray tell who that was?" The servant came out of his hiding place and stood beside him. "What I miss?" Arthur glanced at him. "Seems Arianna has a new friend."

Biting her lip, Arianna's unsure what to say. There's a slight pink tinge to her cheeks and she certainly seems flustered. When she planned to sneak away for a moment, she hadn't expected any witnesses. Especially to such an intimate moment between her and the tavern maid who had started stealing her heart. Arianna wasn't sure what they had yet. And truthfully she was nervous about others reactions, so she kept it secret.

"That... That was just Serena... She's a... Friend." Friend? Was that really the best cover she could come up with?

"So is this what you two do in your spare time now? Spy?" Arianna crosses her arms, trying to hide her nerves or the fact her heart was beating out her chest. How much had they seen? How would they feel about it if they'd seen what she thought they had?

#[how long have you been standing there.] #[theelectusrex] #[muse- arianna yanna] #[ooc- i love this chaotic energy.] #[ooc- also que Serena making an appearance again.]

[ofbooksandaesthetics]

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

[aftertheskyy]

Masterlist

Trying this again. If a link doesn't work, feel free to send an ask or DM!

* for Merthur ~ for bullet fics r - requested > - personal favorite

Canon era/canon era AU

Unknown talents

> Love languages

~> Musical episode

~* Merthur as dads

~ Percival (r)

Canon era Perwaine (r)

Types of humor (r)

* Knights as uncles

~*> Flowers

~* Arthur giving Merlin his circlet (r)

~* Stars (r)

*> Height differences

~ Growing up Pendragon

~* Royal! Merlin (r)

> Dancing knights (r)

Knights with a crush

* Merlin with glasses

~ Arthur trying to garden (r)

Chaotic Pendragon siblings (r)

~* Poetry

~ The Neckerchief

~ Young Merlin with magic

~* Dragon dads

~> Leon and Merlin - Immortals

* Merlin and Gwen

Goblin! Gaius

~ Meanwhile in Avalon

> Merlin but make it modern slang

> Off-duty knights

~*> The knights knowing about Merthur

> Arthur is smart

~ Arthur and Gwen’s first dance

*> Merthur mornings

~* 1x01 from Arthur’s POV

Merlin’s magic excuses

> Merlin’s beard?

The dog in “Valiant”

> Balinor and Merlin

> Magic knights

Thicc Merlin

Not the tavern

*Merlin/Gwen as Pendragon spouses (r)

*> Freckles

Percival is a gentle giant (r)

> Merlin the poet

The knights and emotions

Gwaine + emotions (r)

> Ways Merlin wakes Arthur up

Merlin + big words

Leon with a crush (r)

Pickled eggs

Elyan

Merlin impersonator (r)

The guards love Merlin (r)

Modern AU

*Merthur wedding

Disneyland

*Camping

Perwaine

Game (K)nights

Jobs in a modern world

At the mall

Swimming

As kids

Bookstore (r)

Movie (K)nights (r)

* Long distance Merthur (r)

> Among Us

~ Reincarnated Kilgharrah

Thanksgiving

> Merlin in the 20th century

~> The Horn of Cathbhad

Perwaine pets (r)

Dad! Leon (r)

Strong man Percy (r)

Karaoke (K)nights

Percy and Gwaine training (r)

Really random things

Jethro Cane in Camelot 

> Theme songs

> Merlin as John Mulaney quotes 

> Delta airlines - Merlin edition

~*> The Little Mer(lin)maid

Superhero au

* For Forever

Newsies au

> Merlin as Hamilton quotes

Supernatural au

~*> Tangled au

> Things the knights call themselves

You, me and Steve Leon

Teen portrayals

> You think I sit around doing nothing?

> Kilgharrah quotes

The Lion King

> As things my friends have said

> I love Arthur because...

Arthur’s return?

Series

Quarantine - Part 1, Part 2

Hogwarts - Part 1*, Part 2

*Middle school - Part 1, Part 2 (r), Part 3

*Touch starved Arthur - Part 1 (r), Part 2

*> What they love about each other - Merlin, Arthur

> Merthur touches - Part 1*,  Part 2 

Leon and Arthur - Part 1, Part 2 (r)

Arthur + separation - Part 1, Part 2

Lancelot’s manners - Part 1, Part 2

#bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin headcanons #merlin au #merthur #merthur headcanon #knights of camelot #knights of the round table

[thenameishayley248]

hi!! could you possibly write something for gwaine from merlin where the reader is gwen's servant and he's smitten by her and the other knights tease him, and maybe gwen gave her an old dress and he sees her in this new fancy dress instead of servant garb and is just cute ,, sorry if this is overly specific ! also no worries if you dont write this!! ty, have a good one! x :)

I hope you like it!! I’m a little rusty, but I think I’m happy with how this turned out!! Thanks for the request! (:

You were walking through the marketplace, following Gwen as she was picking out some new garments to add to her wardrobe. 

“The blue one would look beautiful on you milady,” you say with a smile. 

“I was thinking the blue, as well,” she replied, giving the woman at the stand the money for the dress. 

You both continue on through the crowd when you hear the boisterous laughs of the knights just ahead of you. As you look up, your eyes meet the beautiful, brown ones of Sir Gwaine, who gives you a sweet smile. You and Sir Gwaine have gotten along ever since he first became a knight. Despite your job as a servant, he has always treated you as an equal. He always loved that you were able to match him in his quick-witted banter, which always gained laughs from the other knights.

You follow Gwen as she walks up to the group of men to greet them.

“Good morning boys,” she says.

“Your majesty,” the five men reply, bowing their heads. 

As Leon, Elyan, Percival, and Lancelot speak with Gwen, Gwaine’s focus seems to have never left you. Having noticed his friend’s lack of attention to the queen, Leon gently elbows Gwaine’s side, earning a stifled laugh from both you and Gwen.

“Well, I should get back to the castle. There are a few things I need to tend to,” Gwen says. “Y/N, I forgot to get some flowers for the center-table, would you mind getting some for me?” 

“Of course, milady,” you reply.

“It may be best that you are accompanied, as well. Just to be safe,” Gwen smiles, knowing which of the men would be the first to offer.

“I’d be happy to escort, Y/N,” Gwaine says quickly. He clears his throat trying to cover up his embarrassingly quick response.

“Thank you, Sir Gwaine,” you smile. You both bid farewells as you begin your walk down towards the fields.

As you walk through the flower field, you and Gwaine speak of how the past few days have been, as you haven’t seen him since he’s been on patrol. 

“I hear they missed you down at the tavern. The last few days haven’t been the same without your crazy antics,” you joke, giving him a small nudge on the arm. 

“Well I have missed causing trouble down there. And seeing you every morning of course,” he smiles, looking over at you. 

“Oh I’m sure,” you say with a small laugh, picking a handful of purple flowers to take back to Gwen. 

You walk together in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company until you reach the doors of the castle. Gwaine stops you before you enter.

“You’ll be at the feast later tonight, yes?” he asks, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Of course. Well, it is sort of my job to be there with Gwen,” you laugh.

“Right. Well, I suppose I’ll see you then,” he smiles.

“I suppose you will. Thank you for walking with me, I enjoyed the company.”

You walk into Gwen’s chambers, seeing her trying to pick out a dress for tonight. She turns and gives you a knowing smile.

“So how was your time spent with Sir Gwaine?” 

“It was very nice,” you laugh, “Thank you for your very obvious attempt at trying to get us together.”

“He’s a good man. A crazy one, but good. And he is absolutely smitten by you. Everyone can see it.” 

You smile at the thought of being with Gwaine. The man who always manages to put a smile on your face, even on the worst days. His flirty personality and messy, brown locks were enough to make you swoon, but his kind gestures and loyalty to his friends is what always stood out the most. The rugged man has you lost in a daydream until a heavy piece of clothing lands on top of your head, breaking your trance. You hear Guinevere laughing through the fabric. Removing the garment from your head, you see that it is a beautiful red dress, one of your favorites from Gwen’s closet.

“What is this for?” you asked. 

“That is for you. You’re wearing it to the feast tonight. And not as my maid, but as a guest,” she says with a smile. “You work hard every day, and at this point you are more of a friend than anything. You deserve a night off, especially if it means you’ll get to spend quality time with a certain knight.”

She gives you a hug and you help each other get changed into your evening gowns. 

Just before the feast is to begin, Gwen leads you both through the grand doors of the dining hall. Some of the guests have already arrived, including your favorite group of knights. All of them bow their heads to Gwen as you both walk towards your seats. You look over at the knights and notice that Gwaine’s eyes are glued to you. You give him a smile and a wave, which he returns. Seemingly unable to break his gaze from you, Leon gives him a small shove, whispering something in his ear followed by a small chuckle from both men. As Gwen takes her seat beside Arthur, Gwaine makes his way over to you. 

“Y/N,” he says with a bow,”You look, uh, y-you look beautiful tonight. Well, I mean you always look beautiful, but...um I just mean the dress looks beautiful on you tonight.” He nervously runs his fingers through his long, brown locks. You can’t help but giggle at his uncharacteristic nervousness.

“Well thank you Sir Gwaine. You look beautiful as well,” you say with a smirk, a chuckle erupting from his lips.

He offers his arm and escorts you to your seat beside Gwen, giving you a small wink as he pushes your chair up for you.

Throughout dinner, you noticed Gwaine stealing numerous glances at you from across the table. At one point you waited for him to look at you so you could stick your tongue out at him quickly, earning a stifled laugh from him and Lancelot. When dinner was over, everyone moved on to the ballroom for a dance. As you were waiting off to the side, watching all of the couples dance, you saw Leon seemingly giving a pep talk to Gwaine. You couldn’t help but laugh, as you have a feeling you know what they are discussing. Before Gwaine has the chance to pluck up the courage to talk to you again, you are already by his side, giving a small tap on his shoulder. 

As he turns around, you hold out your hand to him.

“Care to dance?” you ask with a sweet smile. He looks pleasantly surprised.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he laughs, taking your hand and leading you both through the dancing bodies.

He places his hand on your waist, keeping hold of the other as you both begin to follow the lead of everyone else.

“If I’m being honest, I’m quite sure how to dance,” you say, glancing down at your feet every so often so you don’t step on his.

He laughs. “I don’t either. But if I get to spend more time with you, I’d happily make a fool of myself.”

As you dance, you don’t take your eyes off of each other, taking in the rare moment of your bodies being so close. The warmth of his hand on your waist and the look that he holds in his eyes gives you butterflies. Something no man has ever given you. He leans closer to you, his lips so close to your ear you can feel his breath.

“You really are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” he whispers, a smile creeping its way onto your lips. You lean back to look at his face again.

“Perhaps it’s just the fancy dress,” you say with a small laugh, not being used to receiving such compliments.

He stops you, both standing still amongst the people swinging around you. He places his hand on the side of your cheek. 

“You are beautiful with and without the dress. You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met,” he smiles. “And I’d be a fool if I didn’t admit that my feelings for you have only grown since the first day I saw you.” 

You lean into his warm touch, admiring the man before you.

“And I’d be a fool if I didn’t tell you that I feel exactly the same way for you.”

A smile creeps onto his face as he begins to lean in closer. His lips ghost over yours, just before pressing them together. It’s as if time itself stops. He presses your body closer to his, as you both take in the satisfaction of finally giving in to your feelings. 

When you break the kiss, you both give each other the biggest grins. You look over to see Arthur and Gwen celebrating with Merlin, who always swore you two would end up together. As you and Gwaine walk hand-in-hand to join your friends, you see Elyan place a silver coin in Leon’s hand. Gwaine gives them a questioning look, before Leon responds. 

“We may have had a bet for how long it would take for you two to get together. Let’s just say I had more faith in you than Elyan did.” 

You playfully roll your eyes at the men, turning your attention to Gwaine who is already staring at you with a loving smile.

“Better late than never I suppose,” you smirk, placing another kiss on the knight’s lips. 

“Now,” Gwaine starts, “I think a celebration at the tavern is in order!” You all laugh and roll your eyes at the man.

“The guys down there are never going to believe someone actually enjoys your presence for longer than an hour,” Merlin jokes, turning his gaze to you.

“Eh, he’s not too bad. I’m thinking of keeping him around,” you turn to Gwaine, giving him a wink. He takes your hand as you all head toward the doors.

“You might change your mind about that if you were to smell his dirty socks after a long day’s training,” Merlin replies. 

You laugh as you walk beside Gwaine, glancing up to see him giving you a loving smile. As you walk hand-in-hand, you know that nothing could compare to the happiness that you feel now as you think about what the future holds for you and the handsome knight. 

#gwaine imagine #gwaine x reader #merlin imagines #merlin #bbc merlin #sir gwaine #sir gwaine x reader

[hayleysstark]

I always wondered what would have happened if Merlin hadn't ducked the chair in the tavern brawl (S3 ep 4-Gwaine). A sort of delayed response like in more severe concussions. Maybe a coma or some of the other serious side effects. I'm excited to read your work.

Thank you

okay okay i would like to preface this by saying i have been fortunate enough that i’ve never experienced a delayed concussion, and all that comes with it, so this is probably not 100% medically accurate, but consider, Merlin has magic and if we can believe in magic, we can believe this is how delayed concussions work. okay?? okay. thank you. 

"What happened to your head?" Arthur asks, on the way back to Camelot, with Gwaine—passed out cold, probably still drunk, and absolutely dead to the entire world with the knife lodged firmly in his thigh—slung over his saddle. "Looks like you took a bad blow back there."

"I didn't," Merlin waves him off. It would be a lie to say the impact didn't rattle him a bit, but he's sure he'll be all right when he's had some sleep—his magic usually heals his everyday bumps and bruises in the night, and there's no reason to think it would let him down now. "I'm fine. I got lucky, he only just clipped me."

Or, well, he supposes the man only just clipped him, because he has to suppose that, because supposing is all he can really do about it, because—if he's being completely and wholly honest with himself here—he doesn't know for sure. He doesn't know what the chair did. He doesn't even know what the man with the chair did. All he knows is the moment right before—a real big muscly fellow, as Gwen would call him, with long, scraggly blond hair hanging limp and greasy around his filthy, sneering face, clutching a truly enormous wooden chair in his massive, meaty hands, and his mean, dark eyes narrowed, and locked firmly on Merlin—but that's it, that's all, that's where it cuts out, that's where it fades to black, in that tiny handful of seconds between one heartbeat and the next.

He didn't pass out.

And he knows he didn't pass out.

But he opened his eyes, and he was on the floor, with the chair some ten feet away, tipped over on its side, one of the thick legs snapped off in a shower of sharp splinters, and that's all he knows, that's all he remembers.

"Well, it is bad form to hit a girl, you know," Arthur tosses a quick, smug glance back over his shoulder, but the minute his eyes fall on Merlin, his face does a funny little spasm, and the smirk slides off his lips like water. "Merlin, you're bleeding."

Merlin hastily rubs away the wet, warm, bright red trail streaking down his temple with the edge of his jacket sleeve, until the blood smears into a dull brown stain on the thin cloth. "I'm fine. He just scraped me when he—" I suppose he just scraped me, but if he says it like that, Arthur will ask, and he's sure it'll come back to him, he's sure he'll remember, there's no need to fuss about it right now, "—head wounds bleed a lot," he says, instead, a little too quickly. "It's normal. Gaius told me."

"Gaius said that?" Arthur's wrinkled brow smooths back out. "Oh, that's all right, then." He pokes lightly at Gwaine's limp frame, sprawled slackly out in the saddle in front of him, and adds, "Reckon he'll have his hands full with this bloke, anyway."

"Yeah," Merlin nods, "I reckon he will."

As it turns out, Gaius does have his hands full with Gwaine, and Merlin feels fine, so he just doesn't bother to bring it up with the old man at all.

When he finally scrubs off the last of the dried, sticky blood still clinging to the side of his head in dark streaks, he sees the scrape runs far deeper than he thought—less of a scrape, and more of a cut, but it's fine, it's nothing, it will probably be scabbed over and well on its way to healing up in the morning—one of the many benefits of magic—so he rinses the red stains out of the clean white rags he used, and he goes to bed, and he thinks no more about it.

From the minute Merlin opens his eyes, he knows something's wrong.

The world feels wrong—uneven and off-center, like the earth's off its axis, and when he stands up, he feels almost lopsided, like a little girl's doll, too limp and loose to hold himself up, but that's nothing to the way the chamber spins and spins and spins around him, like a child's top. The cut hasn't scabbed over, and he's got what has to be the worst headache he's ever had in his entire life, with a dark, furious bruise on his brow, purple and swollen and painful.

But he hasn't got the time to wait around here for Gaius and tell him about it—he's got far too much to do today to bite his nails over a headache of all things—and anyway, his magic has never let him down before, so he's sure he'll be fine in an hour or so, it's probably just taking a bit longer because, well, a chair clipped him 'round the head, it's not so simple as a bad fall or a brutal spar with Arthur.

He doesn't bother with breakfast—he feels a bit sick, honestly—but he does take a plate up for Gwaine and check the man's leg while he's at it (one less thing for Gaius to worry about when he gets back) before he heads down to Arthur's chambers.

"You're bruised," Arthur says, the minute Merlin walks in the door, like he thinks maybe Merlin hasn't got a mirror, or a pair of eyes in his head.

"You take a hit like that to the face and see how you look," Merlin fires back, and that's the end of that.

Merlin thinks, maybe, it was a mistake to not talk to Gaius.

Merlin thinks, maybe, it was a mistake to come in to work at all today.

The everyday noise of the castle is just such a nightmare—the quiet chatter of the busy servants going about their work, the boisterous prattle of the bored guards stuck at their stations, the click and thud of high heels and heavy boots on cold marble floors and hard stone stairs, the soft clinks of the dishes down in the kitchens, it all makes his head pound like a drum, until it feels like his brain might burst with it—but the courtyard is nothing short of murder.

The sun stabs into his skull like a knife, even when he shuts his eyes and turns his head, but it's the sound that really does him in. The snorts and whines of the horses fresh from a hard ride, the clank and clang of swords and shields, the groan and grunt of the water pump as a thin, nervous maid fills up her bucket, the shouts and hollers of the knights and squires out on the training grounds.

It's all so loud, and it's all so much, and he can hardly think past the sharp shocks of pain up and down his brow, and maybe he should just tell Arthur—he knows Arthur will be fair about it, he knows Arthur is a good man, he knows Arthur will give him a few hours off to see Gaius, he knows it, but the melee is only a few days off, and Arthur needs a servant to see to him while it's going on, and it'll all go a lot smoother for him if he's got his servant, who already knows everything, his schedule and his preferences and his quirks, seeing to him until it's over.

Where Arthur strolls down the wide stone steps to say hello to Sir Oswald, Merlin stumbles—his legs feel funny, shaky and weak, and he's sure he'll trip over and fall flat on his face any moment now (and won't Arthur love that) but he makes it all the way to the ground without a single nosedive.

"—my servant, Merlin," Arthur claps a hand on Merlin's shoulder—

—and he has to bite his bottom lip to hold in a gasp, because it jostles his neck, sore and tender from where his head snapped back when the chair hit him and that—

—that—

—that can't be right, can it?

No, no, that simply can't be right, because the chair only clipped him, remember, because he was all right on the ride back to Camelot—a little dazed and a little dizzy, sure, but who wouldn't be after a blow like that?—and he was all right that night, too, nothing but the slight sting when he cleaned the cut, when the edges of the broken skin stretched with the scrub of the cloth over it. No, no, he's all right, he's fine, it didn't hit him in the face, it did not hit him full in the face, because his head would hurt a lot more if it had.

It clipped the side of his head a bit hard, that's all.

"—loves hard work," Arthur says, with another painful clap on Merlin's shoulder, and he bites back a wince this time, "so, anything you need, just give him a call."

"Believe me," Sir Oswald says seriously, "I will."

Sir Oswald is as bad as his word.

Merlin's ears ring louder than the biggest bells in the Camelot cathedral, and it feels he's got a blunt sword stuck in his skull, and he's shaking all over, dripping with sweat and shuddering with cold, and little white stars pop and pop and pop before his tired eyes, but he stays on his feet, and he finally shoulders the door open.

He hauls the heavy trunk inside.

"What took you so long?" Sir Oswald, leaning elegantly back in his chair, his dirty boots up on the table, pops a blueberry in his mouth.

"What?" Merlin rasps, because it takes him a second to really hear it, takes a second for the words to make sense to him. Everything is taking a second to make sense to him today. "It—it weighs a ton," he points out, rather fairly, in his opinion.

Sir Oswald stares coldly back at him.

"The stairs," he adds quickly, because he knows what it means when a knight looks at him like that, he knows it means if he doesn't come up with a damn good excuse, he'll be in the stocks—or in the dungeons, or tied to a whipping post—faster than he can blink. "It's seven flights." He's so exhausted, it might as well have been a thousand.

"That's very kind of you," Sir Ethan smiles at him, almost kind, so he musters up a small, tired grin of his own before he pushes himself back up on his feet—the room spins and spins and spins, like Gaius' chambers, around him, and he thinks he might really be sick, here on Sir Oswald's pristine floor—

"—but you can't leave it there."

Merlin turns—the room spins and spins and spins like Gaius' chambers, like a child's top, and his stomach churns and his head hurts. "I-I can't?" he says, uncertainly, mostly to make sure he's heard right, because everything sounds different with the funny ringing in his ears, because everything is taking a second to make sense to him lately, because the world is wrong, because the world is uneven and off-center, because the earth is off its axis.

"It's in the way," Sir Oswald jerks his chin at the trunk—which is, admittedly, very much in the way.

"Okay," Merlin nods, but it hurts, and he has to stop. "Where do you want it?"

For the first time all day, Merlin doesn't feel sick, so when he gets home, he downs an entire bowl of soup, and he thinks, maybe, he should wait for Gaius to get back, so he can tell him about his head, about how awful he feels, but he hasn't even rinsed his bowl before the door swings open, and Gwen peers inside.

"Merlin," she says, seriously, "I think you need to come with me."

Merlin follows Gwen all the way down to the tavern, where he finds Gwaine in a stupor, with a tab longer than his own leg, and a red-faced, furious barkeep.

He drags a very drunk Gwaine back home and gets him settled safely in bed where he can't hurt himself (or drink anymore) before he goes back downstairs, to a dark and empty room, and vomits up that bowl of soup.

"S-Sorry," Merlin rasps out, the next morning, as he comes into Arthur's bedchamber and puts his breakfast down—even the light little thud of the plate on the desktop makes his head ache, and he doesn't think he'll ever remember what it's like to not be dizzy ever again. "I-I know I'm late."

"Not at all," Arthur says easily.

"Um," Merlin says, blankly. Is he not late? He certainly feels late. But Arthur's not looking at him like he's late, so that must mean— "Good." He takes a small step back—his skull screams at the sudden move, but his skull screams about everything lately—and turns away to make Arthur's bed.

"You're not sick?" Arthur says, all of a sudden, out of the blue. "Unsteady? About to burst into song?"

Merlin thinks this must be one of Arthur's jokes (like how he says shut up, Merlin at least a hundred times a day, but God knows he'll get all huffy and pouty and moody if Merlin ever actually does shut up) so he doesn't say, yes, my head hurts so badly I can barely think straight anymore, and I think that chair might have hit me harder than I realized. He only pulls the blankets up higher and tucks in the edges and says, "No, why?"

Arthur snatches up a sheet of parchment off his desk, shakes it out with a soft rustle, and reads off, so loudly it makes Merlin's skull scream again, "Fourteen quarts of mead—"

Oh. Merlin's stomach drops. Oh, so that's what this is about.

"—three flagons of wine," Arthur drones on, relentless, "five quarts of cider—"

Merlin comes 'round the bed, head ducked down so the light won't hit his eyes. "I—I can explain," he says, weakly.

"—four dozen pickled eggs," Arthur never looks up from the paper in his hands, but he raises his voice even more, and Merlin has to wait until the pain—so sharp he sees the white stars again—dulls down enough to let him talk.

"That was Gwaine," he says finally, and a little shakily. "He went to the tavern, and he couldn't pay for it."

"So you said I would," Arthur says, in a huffy sort of tone that leaves no doubt as to his opinion on this decision.

"You know, if I hadn't," Merlin says, quickly, but he can already tell Arthur is well past listening, "th-that innkeeper, he would have strung us both up."

"I fail to see the downside," Arthur says harshly—which feels, just now, tremendously unfair, so Merlin fires back with the first thing he can think of.

"You said he should be given anything he needs."

"Four dozen pickled eggs?" Arthur wails, incredulously.

Merlin squeezes his eyes shut and swallows back a wince. "I'm sorry," he says and, before he can stop himself, before he can really think about it, before he can tell himself to shut up, to have some sense, to stop making absurd and impulsive promises he knows he can't possibly keep, he adds, "I'll pay for it."

Arthur sits up in his chair and flings the paper back down on the desk with another soft rustle. "You most certainly will."

Well, on the bright side, Merlin has to admit, it could be far worse than a few hundred pairs of filthy boots.

Gwaine disagrees. "Arthur is a thoroughbred little braggart."

Merlin has to swallow back a laugh—if only his head didn't hurt so much, he's sure he wouldn't mind the work at all, now he's got Gwaine here to crack his usual jokes. "Why?"

Gwaine peers down at the boot in his lap like he thinks the tough, cracked leather will tell him what he's supposed to do with it. Hasn't he ever cleaned his own boots? "For making us do this."

Merlin shrugs—it's easy work, even if it is, admittedly, a touch tedious, certainly repetitive, and hopelessly mundane, and it's a far lighter load than he expected in the face of Arthur's fury this morning. "I think it's fair."

Gwaine throws him an incredulous look and jabs a finger at the endless line of grimy boots stretched out ahead of them. "For the entire army?"

Merlin clicks his tongue. "If you admitted your father was a knight, you wouldn't have to."

Gwaine tosses his head to get his shaggy hair out of his eyes. "Maybe," he concedes with a little huff, "but I'm not making the same mistakes that he did." He runs the brush lightly over the boot—oh, so he does know how to do it, and thank God, Merlin thought he really might have to teach the poor man—and a bit of dried mud crumbles off and floats down to the wood floor below.

Merlin turns back to his own work without a word—he's not going to push it—and the quiet swish of the soft brush on the dirty leather is a faint but familiar music to his ears.

"How's your head?" Gwaine asks, finally, with a quick glance over at Merlin. "Looks pretty bad to me."

"It's fine," Merlin says, and he's not sure what shuts him up, what holds him back, what makes him say it's fine when he's almost certain he's never felt less fine in his life, but there's simply nothing else for it—he has to be here for Arthur until the melee is over, so there's no point in whining or moaning about it when he's got no choice but to grit his teeth and get on with it, anyway. "I'm fine."

Merlin isn't sure what makes him pull back the red silken cloth on the table—he's only here to take the dinner plates back to the kitchens—but he pulls back the cloth, and the glint of the swords beneath fascinates him, in a way swords have never fascinated him before. The cold gleam of steel is murder on his throbbing head, but it's like he can't look away, and before he knows it, he's picked them up, the hilts cool and heavy in his hands, and he stares and he stares and he stares.

He's not sure what's wrong with him. It feels like his mind is moving too slowly, all of a sudden, like a hand has ripped his skull open, and poured thick, sticky syrup inside, gumming up his brain until he can't think straight, until he can hardly think at all, and it takes him far too long to remember he's only here to pick up the dirty plates, he shouldn't be playing with the swords, he has to put them down and get on with it and—

—and the blunt blade slips, and cuts him, much deeper than a blunt blade should.

He stares at the blood on the tip of his finger, bright and thick and red—

"What are you doing with that, boy?"

He whirls around—he knows he shouldn't, he knows it will only make his head hurt, and it makes him look guilty besides, like he's doing something he shouldn't, like he's doing something he knows he shouldn't— "Uh," the sword slips from his slack fingers, and he presses his bleeding hand, on reflex, into his chest, so the knights can't see the cut, but—but why's it is so important that the knights can't see—? "I-I was just tidying—"

"Keep away from things that don't concern you," Sir Oswald snaps, sharp and cold as the sword at Merlin's feet, and his eyes like ice as he glares, and for the first time since he met the man, Merlin feels the tiniest thrill of fear.

He gathers up the plates, and he leaves, and he's much happier than he should be, to get away from Sir Oswald.

Merlin tells Gaius about the sword.

It takes him the entire walk down to the kitchens, and the entire walk back to his chamber, to work out what the knights want with blunted-sharp blades, and that feels unbelievably, embarrassingly long, and he's sure if this horrible headache would just go away, he could think much clearer, he's sure if he could just stop stumbling and tripping, if the world would stop tilting, if those white stars would stop popping—

So Merlin tells Gaius about the sword—or, he means to tell Gaius about the sword, but the minute the old man sees him, he lets out a little gasp, steers him over to the nearest cot, and pushes him down onto it, and Merlin is far too tired to fight him on it.

"What happened to your head?" Gaius demands at once.

Oh. Oh, that's right, isn't it, Gaius hasn't seen him in days—the old man is always out when he gets home at night, and he's just too tired lately to wait up the way he usually does. He rubs lightly at his temple, where the pain burns hottest, with a little wince, before he forces himself to shake his head, to shove it down. "It's nothing," he says, and he tries to sound firm about it, too, but his voice sounds slow and slurred and small in his ears, "it's nothing, I'm fine—listen, I was in Sir Oswald's chambers just now, and I—"

"Merlin," Gaius says sharply, "what's happened to your head?"

"Yeah, I'm no physician," Gwaine tosses out, from his spot on the bottommost step in the dark, narrow stairway, "but you really don't look so good, mate, you should get yourself checked over."

Merlin throws him a glare.

Gwaine stares back, entirely unrepentant.

Gaius raises his brow.

"Okay, fine, I-I hit my head," Merlin concedes, because he knows he can steer the talk back around to the sword much quicker if he gives a bit of ground here, "in that fight in the tavern, but it's not important, it doesn't matter—I have something to tell—"

"The fight in the tavern?" Gaius echoes, like he hasn't heard about that already, like Merlin and Arthur didn't fill him in when they brought Gwaine to him, except they did. "Merlin, that was days ago!"

"It's fine," Merlin says, again, except he sounds worse than ever, weak and wavery, and he balls his hands up in fists on his knees so Gaius won't see he's shaking, "it's not a big deal, it doesn't matter, it'll heal up soon, I'm sure the chair didn't even hit me that—"

"The chair?" Gaius' brow has never jumped so high so fast.

"The chair?" Gwaine squawks and leaps up off the stairs.

Merlin realizes far too late that he's said far too much. "It doesn't matter, it was just—" he shakes his head, "—some madman chucked a chair at me, all right, but some other madman is going to—"

"A chair?" Gaius says, again, his pale eyes very wide. "Merlin, you could have died from a blow like that! Why didn't you come to me and—?"

"Please, Gaius!" Merlin blinks against the sudden burn of furious tears behind his eyes. "Please, listen to me, this is important. Sir Oswald's using a trick sword! He means to murder Arthur in the melee!"

And Merlin has never, ever been more grateful for the old man in his entire life, because Gaius listens. He sits up, a bit straighter, on his stool, and he drops his withered white hand back into his lap—out of the corner of his eye, Merlin can see Gwaine edging a bit nearer—

"All right," Gaius says at last. "All right, Merlin. Tell me everything. But let me have a look at your head while you're here."

Oh, thank God. Merlin drags in a shaky little breath of relief, and hastily gabbles it all out as quickly as he can. "H-He's got a sword in his chambers, and to the eye, it appeared—" it takes him too long to come up with the word, because thinking too hard makes his head pound, "—blunt—but when I touched it…" he holds up his bleeding finger for Gaius to see.

The old man clicks his tongue. Like it's Merlin's fault he thought a blunt sword wouldn't cut him.

"Trick sword?" Gwaine frowns. "Then you were lucky it was just your hand. I've seen those blades in action. They're forged using sorcery."

Gaius lets go of Merlin's hand and stands up to prod at his bruised head again instead. "But what would they want with such a blade?"

"To kill Arthur," Merlin says, because it's obvious, now that he's finally realized it. "In the melee."

"But in front of all those people?" Gaius says, doubtfully, his brows pinched, and he presses his finger lightly to Merlin's temple.

"—perfect cover—" Gwaine's voice, quiet and loud and quiet again, rings suddenly through the room, "—nobody will suspect—"

"I-I need to warn Arthur," Merlin pulls back from Gaius' touch with a little wince, and hegets up, but he is so dizzy, and so tired, that the minute he's on his feet, he crashes right back down to the cot in mere moments.

"Not so fast, Merlin," Gaius says grimly, like Merlin was making any great leaps and bounds to the door, "—bad shape—no fit state to—"

"—I-I've got to!" Merlin tries to stand up again, but it's so hard, and his head feels so heavy— "—I've got to—I've got to tell Arthur—"

"Sir Oswald's a knight—from a well-respected family—" Gaius says, "—good friend to Arthur—can't accuse him without proof—"

"—then—" a sudden shock of pain pulses through his head, and Merlin rubs at his brow, "—then I need to—to get the sword from Sir Oswald—"

"No, Merlin, absolutely not—completely ridiculous—no fit state, as I said—a chair to the head, and you still—foolish boy—" Gaius' voice goes quiet and loud and quiet again, too, like Merlin's slipping in and out of deep, dark water, over and under the rolling black tide of pain.

"I'll get it," Gwaine says, suddenly. "I'll get it, Gaius."

And the last thing Merlin hears—before the stars flare up in front of his eyes again, big bright bursts, radiant and blinding and almost beautiful, before he slumps down sideways onto the cot, and passes out—is the quiet creak of Gaius' door, and the thud of Gwaine's boots as he leaves the room.

Merlin wakes up slowly.

The room is dark. The windows are shut, the curtains pulled tight over the dirty glass, and the candles on the table burn low.

It's cold. Gaius has taken his jacket from him while he slept—he can see the rough brown cloth flung over the back of the nearest chair—and his shirt is wrinkled from where he slept on it. He's not sure he wants to go to all the hassle of straightening it.

He still feels funny—fuzzy and bleary, like he's lost in a thick fog, like he's looking out at the world through dirty glass, like he's looking out at the world through a dark veil—but there's only the barest ache at the back of his skull, and when he opens his eyes, the room only slopes a little to the left.

He's still so exhausted, and he already wants to go back to sleep, but he can't go back to sleep—he's supposed to be with Arthur right now, or he's supposed to be doing something for Arthur, isn't he? Isn't that right? Hasn't he got something to do for Arthur? Hasn't he got something really important to do for Arthur? Isn't there something really bad he can't let happen to Arthur—?

It hits him in a cold shock of ice, and he bolts upright in the bed. "Sir Oswald."

"Merlin!" And, all of a sudden, out of the blue, utterly inexplicably, Arthur is there, his hands on Merlin's wrists, gentle but firm, his brow pinched, his face pale. "For God's sake, you idiot, lie back—!"

"S-Sir Oswald," Merlin gasps, breathless, frantic, "he's got a—a sword, and it—it looks blunt, but it's actually—"

"Merlin," Arthur says, sharper now, and he shoves Merlin back down to the bed, hard, "for God's sake, stop being an imbecile. Everything's all right, Gwaine showed me the sword, Sir Oswald's been dealt with."

Merlin almost doesn't believe it, but he can't think what would make Arthur lie to him, either. "H-Has he?"

"Yes." Arthur's blue eyes darken. "And it wasn't Sir Oswald. It was that thug from the tavern, Dagger."

"Oh." Merlin slumps down a little deeper into the pillows—now that he knows Arthur's not in danger, he's sorely tempted to go back to sleep again.

"Wonder if Dagger was the one," Arthur says, in that casual sort of voice that means he's actually seething with sheer rage, "who threw a chair at your head in the fight."

There it is.

Merlin winces. "Look, Arthur, I—"

"You know, there's one thing I'm a bit curious about," Arthur cuts him off, talking deliberately louder than he needs to. "Are you really stupid enough to think you can take a chair to the face and just walk 'round like nothing happened?"

Merlin flushes. "I thought I was all right, I-I felt all right—"

"You don't just take a chair to the face and feel all right!"

"Well, I did." Merlin feels he has to point this out, if only to see if it will finally shut Arthur up.

"Well, that's not normal!"

Apparently not. Merlin rolls his eyes. "What are you doing here, anyway? Haven't you got the melee to worry about?"

Arthur waves him off with an impatient little flick of his hand. "The melee's over."

"Over?" Merlin echoes incredulously, and he looks at once to the window, but it's still shut, and the only light in the room is the faint glow of the candles, so he whips back around to face Arthur. "H-How long have I been asleep?"

Arthur shrugs. "About five days. Give or take."

"Five days?"

"Well," Arthur says, in a rather sanctimonious sort of way, "that's what happens when you take a chair to the face and walk 'round like nothing—"

"Whatever," Merlin says, and it makes him feel sixteen all over again. "So," he adds, quickly, "so, the melee's over with, and Sir Oswald—Dagger," he corrects himself, "is gone?"

Arthur nods. "Dead. My father had them hanged for attempted treason and, once the life left them, the sorcery wore off, and their true faces were revealed."

"Right," Merlin says. It's rather hard to feel sorry for the brutes. "Right. Good." He nods, and he's surprised it doesn't make his head hurt. "How's Gwaine?"

The corner of Arthur's mouth ticks up in a small smile. "Highly offended. My father's just tried to give him a reward for his part in all this."

Merlin laughs. It's hard not to—he can already see Gwaine's outraged face in his mind. "He hasn't got much love for nobles."

"So I gathered," Arthur says peevishly.

"Well, you can't blame him," Merlin says fairly. "Hard to like nobles when they're all arrogant, supercilious prats—"

Arthur yanks one of the pillows out from behind Merlin's head and stuffs it in his face. "Shut up, Merlin."

The door creaks open and Gaius shuffles in. Merlin hastily peels the pillow away from his nose and mouth.

"Merlin!" Gaius tears the empty basket off his arm and tosses it onto the nearest chair before he hurries over to the bed. "You're awake!" He grabs Merlin's wrist to feel the pulse there. "Any pain? Nausea? Dizziness?"

"No," Merlin says, truthfully, "no, I'm fine."

Gaius' eyebrow creeps up an inch or so.

"Just tired," Merlin admits, a bit sullenly.

Gaius nods. "Right, then, that's good. Thank you for staying with him, Sire," he adds, over his shoulder to Arthur. "You may leave now."

"Of course, Gaius," Arthur nods and gets up on his feet, stretching his arms over his head. When the old man turns away to pull a few glass bottles down off a higher shelf, Arthur leans in and adds, in a low whisper, "Don't run into any more chairs while I'm gone. You really haven't got the brains to lose, you know."

And, with a light little pat to Merlin's shoulder, he's out the door.

#merlin #bbc merlin #fic #filled prompt #anonymous