Work Text:
"Gwen's agreed to let you stay at her house. She said she can stay at the antechamber of Morgana's room." The warlock said, desperately trying to look anywhere but Arthur's naked chest as he put on Merlin's very own tunic.
"Very well. You will be staying there with me." Arthur stated matter-of-factly, gazing at the surrounding woods, just covering them from the white walls of the city.
"What? No! I can't!" Merlin protested. "There's only one bed and if I don't stay with Gaius while you're away, he'll ask questions."
"Can't you just tell him you're staying with Gwen?" Merlin looked at the prince in disbelief.
"You realize how that would look, right?" Arthur looked questioningly and only after Merlin stared at him for a good minute, willing for the clot pole to think, did the realization dawn on him.
"Oh... oh! No! No, no, no. Uh..." He hesitated. "No matter, you will tell Gaius and swear him to secrecy." Merlin's scowl could curdle milk.
"No bed for you Merlin, it means nothing that you work all day and you're tired. Just be happy you can have the floor." Merlin grumbled under his breath, low enough that the prince wouldn't hear him.
After they were done training the fake sir William of Deira, Merlin went to Gaius' tower. His mentor was away, most likely tending to one of his patients, so Merlin only grabbed a change of clothes, ignored the pile of laundry in the corner and went back. He hoped he'd get a chance to explain everything to Gaius the following day.
"What took you so long? I need you to get me dinner and polish my sword again, you missed some spots."
Merlin only huffed in response.
Gwen was a darling and left some stew for them with a little note saying: 'I figured the prince doesn't cook. Good luck with the tournament. G.' Merlin needed to get her a really lovely present for all her troubles.
He set the stew over fire and while it warmed he set to polish the sword. In his opinion, it was perfectly shiny; and anyway it was meant to be a weapon not a trinket. He was about to make a quip about Arthur being such a girl over it, when suddenly there were arms around him, Arthur grabbed his right hand, that was clutching the cloth and moved it to the blade. Merlin tensed. He felt encompassed in warmth, the only thing he could focus on was the prince's body. His mind immediately filled with images of what could possibly happen with this position. How Arthur might lean just a little more in and press a kiss to his neck. How he might grabbed Merlin's chin and turn his face towards himself. How he might lick his lips and flicker his gaze towards the warlock's lips. How he might come so close that Merlin will have no other choice but to meet him halfway. And how they might join their lips and... And Merlin really needed to control himself.
"Here" Arthur pointed out, unaware of his servant's internal struggle. "Here and here. And put your back into it, Merlin."
As the prince leaned back, Merlin prayed to the Goddess that his body wouldn't betray him.
"Got it?" Arthur asked after a moment of stillness. "Or do you need also a physical demonstration on how to polish the sword?" Did the prat like torturing him this much, or did he really not realize how he made the words sound?
Despite thinking 'Gods, yes', Merlin said in a shaky voice, "Nope, got it."
Arthur moved further away and the warlock instantly mourned the loss.
"So, what's for dinner?" Arthur said casually, as if he didn't just send Merlin's heart into a frenzy.
"Uh, stew." Merlin replied.
Then he realized.
"Oh shit! Stew!"
Arthur's words pushed to the back of his mind, Merlin ran to salvage their dinner.
Having fed Arthur, Merlin headed to the back where he knew Gwen had a few sacks with grain and some spare blankets. He sighed, thinking about his perfectly comfortable bed that he had to exchange for the floor.
"Merlin?" Arthur's voice for the first time that day lost its usual arrogant tone, moulding into something softer, and if Merlin heard it directed at anyone else, he would probably say it was tender.
"Yes?"
"You don't have to sleep on the floor."
"You mean I can go back to my room?"
"Don't be daft. It's past sunset, you'd more likely fall into some hole. I meant," Arthur hesitated a little, "well, the bed is big enough to share."
Merlin frowned. The bed was a meagre quarter of the one in royal chambers. It was barely big enough for the prince. Were they to share it, they would have to practically be on top of each other, or spooning, and then it would be so easy to just reach and... No! Merlin chastised himself. He wouldn't let his thoughts get the better of him. Besides, Arthur must have been jesting, so the warlock let out an awkward chuckle and curled on top of the sacks.
"Goodnight, Arthur."
"Goodnight, Merlin." The prince sounded a little off, must have been nervous before the tournament. The fire had gone off and Merlin could just barely make out Arthur's form on the bed.
"Arthur?" He whispered.
"Hmm?"
"You're going to do great." And with that, Merlin drifted off.
The first day of the tourney came and went and Merlin found himself back in Gaius' study, trying to explain his absence.
"Gaius, yesterday I..." he started but the physician waved his hand.
"I honestly don't want any excuses. What I want you to do is stop lazing around. You can first clean my leech tank, then the floor needs a scrubbing and don't let me see that pile of laundry grow this tall ever again."
Well, he was in a foul mood, Merlin thought, looking at his mentor's retreating back. The warlock got dinner for Arthur, managing to avoid the prince and yet another list of chores and started on the laundry. He whispered a spell for the brush to start scrubbing the wooden panels, then waved his hand at the leeches, to raise them from the glass, a cloth getting inside with a mind of its own.
He had to wash the clothes and bandages by hand, as of last month, when a little spell that was meant to rid Gaius' second best robe of dried mud on the hems, turned it a very intense canary yellow. Merlin snickered remembering the garment. He considered trying to turn one of the prince's shirts this particular, eye-drilling colour, but since he wasn't sure if such a vibrant shade could be created through regular means, he shot his own plan down. Shame, Arthur’s face would have been a sight.
He shook his head. No thinking about Arthur. Strange things tended to happen to his spells when his head was focused on the blond prat instead of on the task at hand. Flowers growing from stones, birds circling close to the warlock, his tea tasting of honey, his bed floating. No, spells needed Merlin's full attention. He only hoped no one would try to come inside. After a second thought he also added a warning spell for the corridor.
He wiped his brow. Holding four spells at the same time was a little taxing, but he had to wake up early tomorrow, so there was no chance of working through everything one by one.
Nearly three hours later the last shirt had been wrung out and dried with a gust of warm summer wind. Merlin sat heavily on the floor, right by the bucket with the dirty water. He rested his head on the bench. He would get up in just... one... minute...
"Merlin! On your feet, Arthur may be away but I'm not. We are out of several herbs, you used half my storage for the potion to help that merchant a couple of days ago. Take a trip by the glade and fetch me wild thyme, horsetail, hawthorn and juniper berries." Gaius raised his eyebrow disdainfully at Merlin. "Where did you get the idea you could sit around all day, doing nothing?"
Merlin felt his blood boil. He hadn't had a day of rest since he left Ealdor. It was as if there was a dam somewhere inside him and it now broke. Words were pouring out of his mouth without thought. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was even saying, as if his mouth had a mind of its own. Once he finished, he didn't even glance at Gaius, still fuming, he left to get Arthur donned in his armour.
"Merlin, where the hell have you been?" Squashing the need to scream at the prat, Merlin simply shot him a heated glare.
"Doing chores for Gaius." He gritted his teeth.
"All night?! I knew it! You went back to your bed."
Merlin clenched his fists. He was already starting to feel a little guilty for shouting at Gaius, a little cooled down by the short walk, so he took a deep breath and turned his back to Arthur.
"Believe what you will. Get your cape, the armour is in the tent already." He left, slamming the door before the prince. He had to channel the anger somehow.
Merlin tightened the leather straps of the vambrace, studiously avoiding Arthur's piercing gaze. Neither of them said a word since entering the tent.
He cleared his throat, "It's time." Arthur straightened his stance but made no move to exit the tent. The peasant boy pretending to be Sir William of Deira was still out there, listening to the king's speech.
"Merlin..." Arthur hesitated.
The warlock finally looked up at his prince and found him looking unsure and tentative. The feeling of guilt doubled, heavy on his heart. He relaxed his scowl and lifted the corners of his mouth.
"Good luck out there."
A ray of sun, peaking through the clouds on a rainy day could not compete with the beaming smile Arthur sent his way. Merlin felt all his anger and frustration melt away. He grinned back.
"That's better. Want to tell me what that was before?" The prince questioned.
"It's nothing really. I overreacted." Seeing Arthur's gaze fixated on him, Merlin continued, feeling a weight lift from his chest as the words came out. "Gaius was angry that I was away and I hadn't done my chores, but he didn't give me a chance to explain. And then even when I did everything he asked he still was upset with me, and I just... snapped." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "And then you were an arse, but not much more than usual, so, sorry. I just might be a tad stressed.” He added bashfully.
"No, don't apologize." Arthur protested. "If anything, it's my fault. I didn't give you enough time to help Gaius out."
"No! No, really. I was just, you know, tense."
Arthur looked immensely relieved.
"Alright." He smiled and came a little closer to Merlin, looking him intensely in the eyes. "Well, I guess I..."
Merlin never got to know what Arthur wanted to say as they were interrupted by sir William of Deira, or more accurately Billy of Crow's Perch. Arthur took his helmet from the peasant boy, patted Merlin on the shoulder and marched out.
"What even was that?" Merlin asked himself quietly.
Having left Arthur in Gwen's abode, Merlin went to fetch Gaius the herbs and berries the physician needed. He always enjoyed spending time in the forest, it reminded him of Ealdor, with its serenity and quiet life thrumming just underneath perception. Every time he went between the tress alone, he let his magic run free. It healed little birds, pushed branches out of deer's way, caressed the tree roots and blessed the water fuelling the wondrous kingdom of nature. Merlin loved that feeling of freedom, of being one with Life. His magic, if left coiled inside him for too long had a tendency to bubble underneath his skin, and made spells exhaust him quicker. He supposed that because it was a long time since he let his magic run free, it made him more irritable. Still, he shouldn't have shouted. Definitely not at Gaius. He was practically like a father to Merlin, and the boy was truly grateful for his support. He felt ashamed for repaying his kindness with harsh words. Merlin added some more herbs to the satchel and slowly walked back to the citadel. He needed to make an apology.
Gaius was slouched over his work bench when Merlin entered the room. He set the satchel down.
"The herbs you asked."
Gaius turned to him.
"What I said this morning..." He started.
Gaius raised his hand, looking at Merlin bashfully. "It is I who should be apologizing to you. I have failed to appreciate just how heavy your burden must be."
"I shouldn't have lost my temper with you." He felt there was nothing to excuse his behaviour, no matter his frustrations. Gaius was a brilliant mentor and he never wanted to lose his love and support.
"It's no wonder you're upset. There's so much resting on your young shoulders. You must sometimes breathe and enjoy yourself." The older man looked his apprentice in the eye and Merlin could feel that like he was a child once again.
"Even if the leech tank's dirty?" He tested the waters.
"Even so."
Merlin broke out into a grin. He gave the man a hug, thanking his lucky stars for such a considerate mentor.
"I've got to go, but I will talk to you tomorrow, alright?"
Gaius nodded. "And, Merlin?"
"Yes?"
"Be safe." He wasn't sure how to reply to that so he just nodded and left, smile never really leaving his face.
On the way out of Merlin bumped, quite literally, into Gwen, who thankfully had only a basket with dirty laundry in her arms.
"Arthur was asking about you." She said, as they gathered the garments, that covered the floor.
"Do you know what he wanted?"
Gwen looked at him with a twinkle in her eyes. "He's cooking for you."
Merlin was dumbstruck, as Gwen held her giggles.
"He's what, sorry?"
"Cooking." Gwen couldn't help but snicker this time. Seeing Merlin's baffled expression, she collected herself and explained. "He came up to me earlier and asked how to apologize for being, uh... obtuse. I suggested something to prove he can be selfless."
"And he thought cooking was a good idea?"
"Apparently."
They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Arthur's cooking skills, or rather lack thereof was legendary. Sir Leon had used his First Knight's authority to ban the prince from helping with meals whenever they went out hunting without servants. Although, Merlin realized, that has not happened more than twice since he came into Arthur's service.
"I better go and make sure he doesn't burn your house down."
Merlin entered the cosy house, dreading what he would find inside. Arthur startled, posing awkwardly next to an uncooked chicken.
"Merlin, I didn't expect you back this early." Merlin bit his lip to hold the laughter in. The prince looked positively bamboozled. Great prince of Camelot, defeated by a featherless bird.
"Well, I heard you were cooking. Thought I'd want to see that for myself."
"Uh."
Silence followed. Arthur's eyes darted between the chicken and Merlin.
"Why are you cooking, again?"
"I wanted to do something. For you, that is." He looked rather sincere. "To apologize."
Merlin looked at him suspiciously.
"You're being nice to me." Arthur nodded. "You're never nice to me."
"That's not true!" Arthur protested, but wilted under Merlin's stare.
"You're only nice to me when you want something. Well? Out with it? Do you want me to cover for something? Come on?" He squinted at the prince.
"As I said, Merlin, I wanted to apologize. I realized I might have been overworking you."
Merlin frowned, but he decided to let it go, Arthur could be as stubborn as a mule at times and it seemed he was digging his heels in this time.
"Apology accepted, I guess. But I'm not letting you burn Gwen's house down, so I better take care of dinner."
Arthur smiled at him softly, he frowned in confusion. Something was afoot, and he was missing it.
"At least let me help." Arthur crowded his space, Merlin sighed.
"I suppose you could try peeling the carrots." He expected the prince to throw the insult back at him, but Arthur only grabbed his hunting knife, ignoring the smaller and much better for vegetables knife that Merlin slid his way, and opted to chop of about a quarter of the root. The warlock didn't have the heart to scold him. After all, it wasn't everyday that the arrogant prat deigned anyone worthy of his apology. Come to think of it, Merlin was sure this was the first time an apology was directed at someone below his station. He smiled lightly. Maybe the good part of his personality wasn't quite as repressed as Merlin suspected.
"I'm a bit rubbish at cooking." Arthur mumbled.
"I'm aware." The warlock chuckled, looking at his prince indulgently. "Can't be good at everything, now can you? I do appreciate the thought." He paused and looked into Arthur's blue eyes. "Thank you." He flushed lightly, hoping the candle light wouldn't betray the redness of his cheeks.
After they ate, Arthur surprised Merlin again, cleaning up the dishes and ordering Merlin to sit tight.
"Tell me, is there anything you would like? Seeing as I haven't really managed to cook anything?" Arthur had a twinkle in his eye and the warlock wasn't sure if the question was genuine.
"Well, the carrots were a big contribution." Arthur laughed, but continued looking expectantly at him. "You could stop snoring." He cackled.
"I don't snore!" The prince was appalled. Merlin snorted.
"You do. Worse than Gaius even." Arthur gasped in outrage.
"I do not!" The prince put him in a headlock. "Take it back Merlin." He messed the boy's dark hair. Merlin in returned jabbed at his ribs, Arthur laughing gleefully. They looked up at each other at the same time, both with tousled hair and gleaming eyes. Arthur stepped forward, crowding Merlin against the table.
The door opened and the boys jumped away from each other. Gwen looked at them strangely.
"Merlin, Gaius asked me to fetch you. He says it's a matter of grave importance." She looked quite serious, so the young warlock only threw the prince a lopsided grin and left.
Merlin was running at full speed. A few guards shot him a strange look, but having recognized him as Arthur's servant left him to his own devices.
Great, he thought, it's not enough that the prince is risking his life in a tournament, now there's an assassin at large. Why couldn't his destiny be a little easier. Maybe just enough to have one problem at a time.
He barged into the house, gasping for breath, both Gwen and Arthur looked at him in question. He squashed the jealousy, rising in him at how close the two stood and relayed what he heard from Gaius.
“There’s an assassin.”
Merlin explained what he heard form Gaius.
"That's horrid!" Gwen exclaimed.
"That's a bit of an understatement. We don't know if the assassin is aware of your whereabouts," he directed at Arthur, "it might be safer for you to get out of Camelot until the guards find him." He tried to reason with the prince.
"Nonsense. He's clearly waiting for the party to return. Only the three of us know where I actually am." Both servants nodded in confirmation. "Then there is nothing to worry about. It might be more suspicious to withdraw from the tournament without a good reason." Merlin grudgingly had to agree with that.
"Take the bed, Merlin." Arthur said, after Gwen left.
"What? No. You need to be rested for the finals." He protested.
"I'm not letting you sleep on the floor." The prince glared at him.
"I do appreciate you being nice for once, but honestly, you need the rest more than I do." With that said, he marched towards the sacks.
Arthur grabbed his wrist.
"Then we share the bed." Arthur was getting slightly red in the face. "I'm not having you sleep on the ground."
Merlin had no time to protest (and even if he had, he wasn't sure if he would), as his friend pulled him towards the bed, the backs of Merlin's knees hitting the wooden frame. Arthur shoved him lightly, making him sit on the mattress. The warlock knew that there couldn't have been anything behind the prince's actions, but the newfound need to apologize for being a prat, but that didn't stop his heart hammering in his chest. He wanted to argue, to go back to his own room, to bring a bedroll and insist that it wasn't sleeping on the ground.
But a small part of him, one that he usually managed to successfully squash and ignore its treacherous voice, it begged him to stay. To let himself have this one night. One memory. To wake up engulfed in his warmth. And despite being the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth, Merlin was essentially just a man. And so he kicked off his shoes and turned his back to Arthur, clinging to the wall, giving the prince as much space as he could.
He felt the mattress dip behind him. Few moments passed and he felt Arthur move. It took all of his restraint not to push into the warmth of the body behind him. Suddenly there was an arm sneaking its way around his waist and curling around his chest. For a second there was nothing but the feeling of Arthur all around him.
"Are you spooning me?" He spluttered the second he regained his mind.
Arthur tensed and Merlin wanted to bite himself.
"Don't be stupid, Merlin. The bed is small, I'm simply saving space." There was something in his voice, that hadn't been there before and against all reason, Merlin felt a tiny prickle of hope.
"I can move. If, uh, if it makes you uncomfortable." There was a vulnerability in his voice, when he started to move his arm away that made Merlin shoot up his hand and hold Arthur's in place. He tried to say something, but words wouldn't come out. So he squeezed at the fingers he held to his chest, hoping Arthur would understand.
The prince then pulled Merlin flush against his broad chest, tangling their legs in the process.
"Goodnight, Merlin." The words were whispered next to his ear, warm breath tickling his skin. He suppressed the shiver that travelled down his spine. He let his body melt into the prince.
"Goodnight, Arthur."
They woke up tangled in one another. Arthur's head was pillowed on Merlin's chest. The warlock's hand fitted in the prince's golden locks. Arthur stirred and looked up at him with such trusting, sleep addled expression, Merlin wasn't entirely sure what to do with it.
"You snore." He joked. For a moment a terror grappled him, he thought that he ruined it all by running his mouth without thinking. But then Arthur burrowed his face in Merlin's neck and shook with poorly hidden laughter. Merlin squirmed at the stubble brushing across his collarbone.
"Oi, it tickles."
"Are you very ticklish then, Merlin?" Arthur grinned, his hands coming up to Merlin's sides.
"Don't you dare."
"You can't order me, Merlin. I'm the prince." Merlin tried his best to get away from the bastard's deft fingers, but the prince was persistent. In just moments, the warlock was giggling, breathless and trashing in attempts to escape the torture.
"St-oh-oh-op." He wheezed.
Arthur relented only after Merlin was completely breathless and grinning like a loon. They managed to dress, stealing quick glances at one another, while the other wasn't looking.
"One more match and the tournament will be over."
"You can go back to a proper bed." Merlin smiled a little sadly, sobering up. Arthur looked at him strangely.
In a sudden moment of bravery, Merlin untangled the knot of his neckerchief and extended the red fabric to Arthur.
"Here. For luck." The prince took the favour, smiling softly.
"Thank you." Merlin looked at him, through his lashes, with a grin playing on his lips, innocent in the light of early morning.
Then something in the world shifted, as Arthur came closer to Merlin. The air was heavy and charged. Somewhere a destiny took on a new course. A goddess smiled graciously at the new canvas being woven. But neither of the boys was aware of that.
Merlin could only think at how close his prince was. His prince. Maybe for this morning Merlin could allow himself believe that. His eyes flickered to Arthur's lips, a silent invitation taken without delay. Then there was the touch of lips, soft at first, but quickly gaining momentum. There was Arthur's hand at Merlin's waist and he was grateful for surely he would have fallen over otherwise. Arthur kissed like he duelled. Giving it his all. Merlin was dizzy with feeling, hand coming up to the prince's neck, thumb stroking at the edge of his jaw.
Merlin imagined it a thousand times before, yet no fantasy could ever surmount to that feeling of belonging. The world's axis finally aligning with his desire. Breaths mingling and hearts beating in that same frantic rhythm.
Too soon they had to separate for need of air. Arthur pulled away, searching for Merlin's eyes, radiating happiness. He cleared his throat. Merlin ignored the heat in his cheeks.
"Come on. There's a tournament for you to win."
Merlin thought his heart would surely give out soon, with how often it seemed to want to escape his chest. He hadn't had the time to warn him, who it really was on the opposing end of the rink. He had to do something. Arthur already suffered a wound, Merlin feared he wouldn't survive another.
The assassin flicked something at the handle of the lance and a blade about six inches long sprung out of the ornate ending. Merlin willed his magic to slow everything down. He whispered a spell, uncaring as to who could see. The saddle under the prince's opponent slid sideways, the assassin losing his balance for just a moment. He let the time flow freely once more. His heart did not still.
Then Arthur pushed the lance into the other man's chest plate, sending him flying off his horse and Merlin nearly cried with relief.
He ran up to Arthur, guiding him to lean on the warlock and helping him to the tent.
"The people are waiting for their champion. It's time to reveal yourself."
Merlin held anything else he wanted to say, registering the presence of Billy and Gwen.
"You must go and collect the trophy." Merlin and Gwen both looked at each other with their eyebrows raised, but Billy just smiled and with a reverent nod to Arthur, he left to smile at the gathered crowd.
"I'll go and fetch Gaius." Gwen said and also left.
Merlin turned to Arthur with a stormy expression.
"What were you thinking, going back out with that wound?" He glared, Arthur for once looked appropriately chastised. "You could have died." Merlin wouldn't cry. He just wouldn't. "What if his lance managed to get the target again?"
"It didn't."
"You were jousting against the assassin." Merlin burst out. "Do you realize what that means? The man makes a living on killing people!"
"How do you know that?" Arthur raised an eyebrow in a poor imitation of the court physician.
"I went to see what was wrong with the lance. I saw him putting on the helmet. I'm not sure what he did to sir Alynor." Arthur still seemed unbothered.
"See, but it was impossible for me to lose." Merlin frowned.
"What?"
"I had a good luck charm after all." He motioned at the red fabric twisted just above his couter.
Merlin flushed bright red. Arthur grabbed his hand and the warlock made a very embarrassing sound that wasn't, no matter what the prince thought, a whimper. Arthur looked deeply into his eyes and pressed his lips against Merlin's knuckles.
"Thank you."
The voices outside the tent made Merlin jump away, heart pounding. Gaius entered the tent bewildered to find the prince there, but immediately tended to his wound. Arthur threw one last look at Merlin and in that look he managed to convey that they would talk about this. Just not now.