Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This chapter is dedicated to Jacquelyn, who wanted Merlin and Arthur to end up in the woods together at some point with the other knights and be forced to sleep next to each other. So I hope they enjoy how I worked it into this. ;p
X
Merlin Pendragon thought his first night away from Camelot Castle was meant to be the greatest thing that ever happened to him these days. It was probably the first time he had been actually allowed outside of the gates since Leon had brought him to Camelot all those many months ago. It was supposed to feel like there was magic in the air, something more than just the bursts of magic that had been moving beneath his skin like an excited prospect now that they were free to stretch their legs some. He was supposed to take in the feel of nature that was standing all around him, take in how peaceful everything was when there were no city people around to ruin it. He was supposed to breathe in the scent of dirt that could only come from being outside, bury his fingers in the ground just to feel the dirt beneath his hands, and run through the trees as the leaves started bouncing in the wind above his head. Maybe Merlin had fantasized just a bit on how he wanted his first trip outside the gates to go, but how could he not? The first time he had been taken out the gates hadn’t exactly gone that great, so it really wasn’t his fault if he wanted to get ahead of himself. And even having his Uncle Gaius accompany him had been a large improvement compared with the results of his last trip.

But Merlin hadn’t taken something into account.

Arthur would be there as well.

Merlin had gone into this trip with a plan already in mind; he was determined to pretend that Arthur didn’t exist. He could do his own thing, and Merlin was going to do his own thing, and that would be it. He would get through this trip with the feel of grass crunching beneath his boots, with fresh air going down into his lungs, and the taste of freedom lingering on his lips anytime he could taste something that hadn’t been through the palace kitchen first. And Merlin had done a pretty good job of keeping up with that plan, if he dared to say so himself, during the first half of their journey. The trip had been marvelous with Arthur keeping to the front of the path, where Merlin had only caught his stare a few times, but that was largely ignored for the most part. And then the group had settled down at their campsite for the night, and the whole thing had gone down where Arthur had freaked out on him just for collecting firewood. As if he had not done it every day for years when his mother and he needed the extra kindling in their hearth. And then Arthur had decided to join him while the food was being cooked, and… Arthur had dropped some pretty damn big news right on his head.

Before shoving some stupid-looking rock in his face and asking him whether it was funny-looking or not.

Merlin hadn’t known how to respond to such stupidity, feeling as if the sudden turn in topic could be enough to give him whiplash, and the only thing that he could do was give the prince a deadpan look. Because honestly, did he really think NOW was a good time to be shoving things straight into his face? He had the pretty alarming news Arthur had dropped into his lap that he wanted to go over, and yet, here Arthur was… waving a stone at him. Arthur had eventually dropped the stone back into the dirt where he had found it, muttering obscure comments about how Merlin had laughed when Derrick had shown him funny-looking objects during the trip here. Merlin was pretty apt today on giving the prince the silence treatment and had glared Arthur down into submission after he heard that… apparently the prince had been paying more attention to what Merlin had been doing during their trip than he had thought he had.

But what else did Merlin expect from him?

Arthur was his fucking stalker of a husband.

Arthur had stayed silent after Merlin had cut him down short without needing to spill a single word to do so. With nothing but the ruddy blush burning on his face to show he felt anything for Merlin, not giving him more time than he felt the prince was worth. But Merlin was alright with that, even though he wished the blonde would go away and find someplace else to sit that wasn’t so crazy close to where Merlin was sitting. If Merlin crossed his legs, then it was likely that their knees would be bumping into each other, and while Merlin didn’t like that at all, he was too stubborn to move away from the spot himself. After all, it was HIM who had been sitting in this patch of dirt long before the prince took a seat. But as long as Arthur kept his mouth shut, as impossible a feat as that could be, Merlin figured he could live with this for the moment. With nothing to listen to except for the crackling fire roaring in the little fire pit, the smell that wafted off the rabbits as the fresh meat cooked itself over the fire was enough that it made his mouth water at the thought of sinking his teeth into something.

Or sinking his teeth into something else was what made his mouth water…

Merlin couldn’t get what Arthur had said out of his mind… about how he could stay at the estate if he wanted to for as long as he wanted to. Doing something like that wasn’t something that had ever crossed Merlin’s mind before. Sure, it had been a fair few times that Gaius—over the past few weeks, where he taught Merlin everything he could squeeze into that timeframe—had given him some examples of what other families did to make their estates flourish. But having this new information now… it was something that had never come up before in his studies. He didn’t know if that was deliberate on his uncle’s part, where he didn’t want to get Merlin’s hopes up if the Pendragons decided to deny him a basic right such as this. Or if it had been, like Merlin was thinking, nothing but an oversight. But either way the dice fell… Merlin suddenly realized he had this huge decision to make. Something far larger than making a few tiny choices on changes he would like to make once they reached his estate. But… the choice should have been easy; Merlin should have been grabbing onto that decision with all the force in the world and never letting go of it.

The entire five months that Merlin had been in the city walls, the only thing he had wanted to do was escape from it all. He had done everything he could just to do that, short of running away and hoping nobody would follow him like the consort knew they would. He had even tried to kill himself in the attempt to go somewhere not even the Pendragons would be able to reach him. He had only screamed himself hoarse until he was blue in the face about how much he wished he could return home. He had seen Camelot as an enemy, and yes, although there were certain aspects of his life that were getting better now that the servants were always smiling at him and the knights avoiding him since Arthur seemed to have scared the majority of them into silence during the last month, he still found himself hesitating to jump full force ahead.

He would be starting a whole new life if he decided to stay at this estate; he’d be packing up his belongings and starting over completely! For what had to be the second time in less than six months. Could he even do that? Just leave and go someplace entirely new? At least with Camelot, he’s had these last several months to figure himself out and gain some kind of place within the city. Sure, there were a thousand things to do before he was truly comfortable, but Merlin felt as if he was truly making some progress. He had been in the marketplace several times to pick something up for Gaius in between his lessons, and most of the stall keepers were actually giving him a fair price instead of trying to price gouge him just because Arthur was rich like they did in the beginning. But in this new place, in his estate… would he have to start from scratch? It’s quite possible that all the people still living there after the noble family was ejected from the grounds would hate him. And Merlin would be all alone and having to navigate that without Gaius, Morgana, or Gwen to keep reminding him to hold his head up. And what if it didn’t work out, and Merlin decided Camelot may have actually been the better option? He would never be able to look his husband in the eye again if Merlin turned up at the city gates like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.

So many possibilities…

So many ways this could go wrong for Merlin…

So many decisions that would affect Merlin’s life…

Would it be worth it to start over again?

Would it…

“FOOD’S DONE!”

Merlin snapped out of his innermost thoughts, head coming up when Christian called out what he had, being that it was his chosen duty to prepare the meals for them all. Everybody had their duties, it seemed, specific jobs that they had to stick to just to make sure this trip went as easy as it could be. Everybody, it seemed, but Merlin. And the consort in question didn’t budge from his spot as the other knights in their group eagerly stepped forward to get their portion of the meal. Even Gaius and Arthur stepped forward to grab a little bowl for their meal, but Merlin kept waiting. He would wait until he was the last one and then grab whatever else had been left… He had so much on his mind at the moment that he didn’t want to try fighting the small crowd. Leftovers would be fine with him, though Gaius probably wouldn’t recommend it since Merlin still had a tiny problem with finishing full meals. But starving oneself for as long as he had did have a tendency to do that, especially since he had grown up without having a fully sated belly.

The knights were chattering around the fire, short little things that Merlin was unable to make out as they started splitting off in their pairs to different places around the fire, bowls of dry meat in their laps that they would eagerly swallow down after an entire day had gone past since they were able to do something like this. And all the while, Merlin kept circling his mind back to… should he do this? Should he take the risk and jump in feet first and live somewhere he had never even seen before? Would this weekend ahead of him allow him to make a better and more informed decision? Maybe that was what he should do. Merlin should just… continue with this trip as planned and get a feel for the place as a whole, meet the people who live there and everything, before he actually did something like commit himself to staying there. But they would only be staying there for two or three days; was that really enough time for Merlin to decide if it was worth uprooting the life he had? He had trouble deciding which shirt he wanted to wear if he wanted to look extra nice for no reason other than making himself feel good about himself. So making a decision that was as big as it felt like this one was… it was pretty daunting. And Merlin wasn’t entirely sure it felt like the good kind of daunting. Where something was new and scary, but it was impossible to not be excited for what was yet to come…
 
Merlin jolted back in surprise when a bowl was suddenly being shoved straight under his nose, which nearly resulted in him falling over because of how it had suddenly appeared before him. He wasn’t even sure if it was a hallucination or something else for a long minute there, but the bowl continued to remain as a steady presence in front of him, the smell relentless and making a rumbling in his stomach. But the catch came when Merlin realized it was the prince on the other side of the bowl. Merlin frowned up at the blonde-haired man, wondering if they had really come to this… where Arthur apparently didn’t think he could get his own meal without needing him to swoop in and lay claim to it before passing it to Merlin himself. Did Arthur REALLY think Merlin needed a hand for such an easy task? Was this something worth screaming at the prince for, or is it better for Merlin to stick with his silent treatment? Accepting the bowl made Merlin feel all sorts of squeamish, as if he was choosing to ignore the bastard that Arthur was simply because he was getting a meal hand-delivered to him.

“I noticed that you weren’t getting up to get yourself something to eat, and so I just figured I would help you out some and get you a bit before the others try and eat it all. They can be like vultures, I swear, and I didn’t want to risk having you go without if they took more than their fill.” Arthur stuttered a little, cheeks coloring as Merlin analyzed him with deep and off-putting eyes. Merlin studied the scene in front of him as if he was trying to figure out which part of this was part of Arthur’s grand plan to make him lower his guard around him so it would be easier for him to go in for the kill when Merlin started being easygoing with his presence, like he had been in the beginning. Food was a good choice when one considered the fact that… everybody loved food. Even somebody who had spent so long denying himself the pleasure of sliding fresh meat right between his teeth just because he wanted to take control of his life back in even a small way. “And look, I even made sure I got you the biggest piece of the lot. I know you might not finish it all, but I figured this would allow you to eat as much as you wanted. And you could decide when you were done, instead of when your bowl was empty.”

Arthur tended to ramble a lot when he was in Merlin’s presence, he thought in a contemplative manner. If Merlin didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought it was a nervous tick, but he knew that wasn’t right either. Arthur’s never been nervous in Merlin’s presence before, and nothing changed in the last month or so other than Arthur being a fucker… oh, wait. No, he’s always been a creeper of epic proportions. But… The call of something halfway decent for dinner had his stomach growling again, and… Merlin knew better than to lower his guard around Arthur just because of something as mundane as food. Merlin was still half-expecting some sort of trick when he reached out and nearly snatched his new meal out of the prince’s hand. Merlin was sure something as small as that would’ve been enough to set the prince off, considering how rude it was to go snatching things out of people’s hands. But Arthur actually seemed to relax, a brilliant and pleased smile flashing across his lips, as if it had given him some great pleasure to see Merlin accepting something from him, as if the horse he had tied up behind him wasn’t enough for him.

Merlin still eyed the prince with suspicion as he turned around and headed to the fire once again, this time to collect a bowl for himself. Merlin’s lips thinned in contemplation… what was Arthur playing at? Why the hell did he bother with getting Merlin something to eat but didn’t bother getting himself something to eat as well? If Merlin didn’t know how precious food could be, then it was likely he would have dumped his bowl on the ground and made sure Arthur watched as he stomped the meat into the dirt and ground, a silent way of saying Merlin wasn’t dumb enough to fall for such petty tricks. Arthur was only ever nice to him when he wanted something out of it, and Merlin was still waiting for what Arthur would do once he realized Merlin wasn’t so easily swayed. Hell, perhaps this whole food thing was just for Arthur to convince Merlin to stay with him in the city, though Merlin didn’t know why he would do such a thing. All he had to do was just… not tell Merlin it was possible for him to stay at the estate. Then he wouldn’t have to go out of his way to make Merlin ‘soften’ towards him. The prince was such a freak, Merlin thought grumpily, tired of thinking about all of the possible reasons and motives for why Arthur did anything he did, and then turned to his bowl.

Arthur hadn’t been lying when he said he had given Merlin the biggest piece he could get away with; there must’ve been half a thigh sitting in his bowl. And Merlin already knew he wouldn’t be able to finish the entire thing, but like hell would he prove anything Arthur had said as right. So, with stubbornness that’s as deep as his pride, Merlin broke off a strip of the meat and placed it into his mouth, chewing the chewy piece of meat as the smoky flavor from the fire was bursting on his tongue. And when Arthur finally returned, settling down beside Merlin as if he thought he had any right to claim any spot within even spitting distance of Merlin, the consort adamantly refused to acknowledge him. Arthur sitting there didn’t mean he had to talk to him or entertain him or whatever the prince thought he was going to get just by showering Merlin with his unwanted attention. But… there was only so long Merlin could slide bite after bite into his mouth with the prince staring him down before he could feel his nerves as they started to fray down to the edges.

For a while, as the minutes dragged by and his uncle eventually joined him with a small portion of meat in his bowl, Merlin managed to ignore the way he had Arthur drilling holes into the side of his head. He would eat his meat, even as he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Arthur was paying more attention to Merlin and his meal than he was actually eating his own. And Merlin’s hands started tightening around the bowl, hard enough that he could’ve sworn it was going to crack in his hands if he held it any harder. What was Arthur’s problem now? Where he couldn’t just sit there, damn it, and allow Merlin to eat without feeling as if he was eating in front of an audience. Was Arthur waiting for him to somehow screw up eating? Was he waiting to lecture and criticize Merlin as he ate with his fingers instead of using the bits of wooden carved forks one of the other knights had stowed away in their bag, like some of the knights were opting to use? Did Arthur realize that Merlin retained some of his peasant-like habits, which included eating something like a rabbit hunted and skinned right in front of him with his fingers, despite all the ways Arthur had tried curbing all his bad ‘peasant habits’ in the past?

…

…

…

“WHAT?”

Merlin practically snarled this with furious ferocity in his tone, spinning around so fast that it almost caused him whiplash, which also left Arthur no chance of turning around and pretending as if he wasn’t doing anything, despite holding an entire bowl of untouched food. Arthur had jolted back at Merlin’s shriek, his bowl almost dropping between his fingers in his surprise. Arthur’s jaw dropped open as he stuttered a little incoherently, and Merlin narrowed his eyes until it felt like he could’ve resembled the slit of a snake’s eyes. Was this the moment where Arthur told him something ridiculous… like how he was jealous that the consort had far more meat in his bowl than Arthur did, which had to break the code of conduct somehow, considering the prince should probably be the one given the most. Even if ARTHUR had been the one that prepared the bowl, and it wasn’t like Merlin had asked him to, or something stupid like that. But it was also a very Arthur-like thing to do. Give Merlin something and take it right out of his hands again. Well, Merlin had news for him, he decided as he, with a purposeful attitude, stuck a particular strip of meat between his lips, smacking a bit as he licked a bit of the juice off the tip of his fingers… Arthur would just have to pry this bowl out of his cold, dead fingers. It was almost thrilling and satisfying to be able to watch how red Arthur’s face grew when he did that, how furious he had to be, practically daring him with rebellious blue eyes to make a scene just for a bowl of meat.

“…I like the way you eat.”

Those were the first words Arthur managed to say that weren’t some really odd form of stuttering babble that he was able to understand. And Merlin felt his eyes going so wide, he was sure they resembled the fancy dinner plates Arthur had at the castle, sucking in a breath of air that caught in his throat… taking a piece of the meat he was chewing with it. Merlin started to cough so harshly it left his body shaking, gagging as if he felt like he was about to cough up a lung or two. He could barely see Arthur seizing forward in a panic through the haze of reactive tears brimming in his eyes, but Gaius had already gotten there before he could be touched. His uncle landed three harsh smacks right on the square of his back, forcing the piece of meat to dislodge itself out of his airway. It was with greedy abandonment that Merlin sucked in the air that he was now being granted, desperate and ignoring how he had somehow managed to drag every eye in the clearing onto him. He had eyes only for Arthur and the strangeness of what he had just said to him.

“WHAT?!”

Merlin watched incomprehensibly as Arthur colored like he had before, but he only now realized that it wasn’t fury making Arthur change to alarming shades of red. It was embarrassment. Real, honest-to-God embarrassment, and not just Arthur trying to pretend he was embarrassed about something to make Merlin drop his guard. Arthur was actually fucking embarrassed, which he damn well should be. What the hell was that crap he was spewing about… he liked Merlin eating? He liked the way that Merlin ate? That was the weirdest and most vile thing Merlin had ever heard Arthur Pendragon say to him. He couldn’t even get his mind to wrap around something so outrageous and insane. Was Arthur actually being for real right now? But judging from Arthur’s reaction, there had to have been something real about that. But… what in the world could make anybody ‘like’ the way somebody else was eating? He stuck the food in his mouth, and he chewed it, and he swallowed it. It was a very simple process that each and every other living being on the planet had to do for substance. But Merlin was sure Arthur wasn’t going around telling other people that he liked the way that they ate. Arthur was a grade A freak, but he wasn’t that kind of freak.

“…okay! I think it’s time we start preparing for bed! We have a very long night ahead of us, and we need to be well rested for when we arrive at the estate in the morning.”

Merlin could do nothing but watch as Arthur all but abandoned both his bowl and that stupid cloak he had tried covering Merlin up with earlier—as if Merlin would want such a thing from him—and practically ran across the field until he reached his own horse tied up on the other side of the field. Merlin blinked just a few times, dumbly, as he tried to understand what was actually happening to him right now. Because if he wasn’t mistaken, it looked as if Arthur had just run away from him. But… that couldn’t be true. Arthur had spent every day of their marriage suffocating Merlin by how close he kept trying to get to him in some way or another. And yet, today… today he had run away? So that Merlin would not be able to demand what the hell that whole ‘I like the way you eat’ thing is about?

Maybe Merlin needed some sleep, because God help him if he had to deal with any more of this Arthur crap tonight.

X

Night has fallen completely, the sky as dark as the blackest color, with shining stars twinkling above their heads, the sound of crickets chirping in the air. The sound of nature’s music as the trees whistled their song as a soft breeze blew through the camp, making the firelight flicker ominously. Most of the knights in the clearing had spread out, each man claiming a spot among the dirt for their sleeping sacks for themselves, except for Knight Derrick and Knight Christian, who had been chosen as the first shift to stand guard over the campsite. The two stood on the far side of camp, making a spot in the tree line so they would be the first to spot anything that might pose a danger to them. All of this was being seen over by Arthur Pendragon, as he unrolled his sleeping sack on the other end of the campsite. The thick material falling free and landing with this splat on the dirt was meant to make sure he didn’t catch his chill during even the coldest of winter nights. But despite the warm night ahead of him, Arthur felt like he was already boiling, his blood running hot and thick under his skin. He fidgeted with his sleeping sack for far too long, his fingers shaking as his own stupidity echoed inside of his head again and again and again, like the beating of a drum.

‘I like the way you eat.’

Arthur was supposed to be the prince of one of the greatest kingdoms this land has ever known; he was supposed to be strong enough to lead the kingdom to the next age of prosperity. He had been ruthlessly trained his entire life on the different ways he should react to any given situation. And yet, somehow, it was Merlin that Arthur had never been trained to face. It was Merlin that nobody in the world—his father, his tutors, his trainers—could have prepared him for. The Consort in all his glory, sitting there as if he was none the wiser about the odd effect he had over Arthur. Arthur didn’t even know why Merlin eating had given him pause. It was just something about the way he had been sitting, hunching over his bowl as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Those little strips of dark meat passed through his lips, showing Arthur only the barest hint of white teeth before his lips closed around it. The glistening of his fingertips only seemed to grow more and more wet every time they pressed against those lips of his.

How had things become so complicated…

Those lips were so pale and pink and innocent… untouched by anybody other than Arthur, unclaimed by anybody other than Arthur. And it was Arthur who’d claim Merlin’s third kiss, and his fourth, and his fifth, and his sixth, and however many Merlin wanted from him. A few kisses here and there were… nothing if he compared them with everything that’s happened in the past. And since Arthur was pretty sure he was going to lose Merlin to his estate… He needed to make a decision on whether or not he would make an attempt to give him the perfect kiss he wanted. But it’s only been a day since he had reunited with Merlin, and he hadn’t done nearly enough to make Merlin soften up towards the mere idea of a kiss being given from him. And with the blood thrumming beneath his veins, he was quite uncertain whether or not he should make an attempt. But those pale pink lips stupidly gracing his fingertips had been like the sweetest sin starting to throw itself in his face, forcing Arthur to close his eyes and replay the sight in his mind again and again and again. Trying to imagine what it would feel like if Arthur was allowed to take a single piece of meat out of Merlin’s bowl just so he could press it against those lips for himself. His heart stuttered, and he was sweating on his hands, imagining what it would feel like watching Merlin watch HIM as his consort opened his mouth wide and allowed Arthur to place it along his tongue. How it would feel like watching Merlin’s lips close around what the prince had offered him, leaning over further than he had to just so he was able to flick his tongue out to lick the juices clinging to Arthur’s fingertips…

“So… are you really planning on sleeping way over here by yourself?”

Arthur audibly gasped, his eyes flying back open as his heart thundered in his chest as if he had just been caught with his hand down his pants. It turned out to be nobody but Christian, the knight raising an eyebrow at the prince as if he was also becoming aware of the fact that he might’ve been intruding on some strange thing he shouldn’t be privy to. Arthur swallowed hard, feeling how dry and achy his throat was, in a way it decidedly hadn’t been before… He started thinking about pale pink lips… innocent and pure and free… and how he would taint them the second a kiss was freely given. But a taint that would look as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world, a taint that spoke volumes about how Merlin allowed Arthur to shower him in all of the… physical affection that he wanted. Arthur had never put so much pressure on himself about sharing a first kiss with anybody before, had never stressed himself out so much about how it should happen and what would make it perfect and… Arthur cleared his throat roughly once again.

“What?”

Arthur struggled to clear his head, giving Christian this squinty-eyed look since he couldn’t understand what the other man was saying. He was perhaps just a little irritated by being interrupted… His hands were nearly shaking over how to figure out what to do with Merlin. He wanted to know if giving Merlin that kiss that he wanted so badly would be enough to sway his consort into staying with him in the city. If Arthur promised to give Merlin as much… affection as he wanted from him, whenever he wanted it, would he be willing to give up on the estate and tie himself down to Camelot City? But Merlin had already told him he was a bad kisser, so what if Arthur tried again—with Merlin’s consent—and the prince only succeeded in chasing Merlin away? What if Arthur was such a horrid kisser that all he did was make Merlin’s decision for him to stay at the estate? What if Arthur squeezed Merlin harder than he liked to be squeezed? What if he ended up pressing harder than he should press? What if Arthur wanted to taste a hint of that sweetness again before it was over and couldn’t resist chasing it right into his consort’s lovely mouth? What if… there were a thousand different What if questions that plagued Arthur like a ghost haunting him from the shadows.

“I was just asking why you were sleeping way over here when your husband is setting up camp with his… with his uncle on the other side of the clearing. Isn’t it strange to be sleeping so far away from somebody you’re married to? Unless you and Merlin are fighting again and he’s kicking you out of his area. Or is this about something else? Maybe you think you won’t be able to control yourself if you are sleeping so closely to your husband when his uncle is sleeping nearby. I suppose that would be awkward, risking the chance of being caught with his …uncle… if you want to debase his… nephew… only a few feet away from where he will be sleeping.”

Arthur hardly noticed the strange and lilting way that Christian was speaking or the hesitant way he would refer to the familiar relationship between Merlin and Gaius. His heart had suddenly leaped its way into his throat, whipping his head around as his pulse thundered like wildfire in his throat, until he spotted where Merlin had settled his sleeping sack and was starting to make himself quite comfortable on top of, on the other side of the clearing. Arthur’s jaw was hanging open, wide enough that he could’ve swallowed a fly if he became so unfortunate that one happened to fly by at that exact moment, as he took in all the several feet that separated him from Merlin. He was too far away, too close to the tree line, too far away for Arthur to touch or grab in case they had some emergency in the middle of the night. But… Arthur had somehow escaped the thought about how strange something like this would look to those that didn’t know the circumstances between him and Merlin. Most married couples would have probably slept together, or at least slept close enough to each other that it was clear they were together in some way. But the idea of him being able to —being ALLOWED—to sleep next to Merlin felt so much more daunting than it did to kiss Merlin’s lips with featherlight sweetness. 

Arthur was able to watch from his spot across the clearing as Merlin started to slide his boots off his feet, and he could just barely see Merlin wiggling those long toes of his as they were exposed to the air after being stuffed in his boots for so many hours. There was just something about the sight of Merlin’s feet, so pale and something Arthur didn’t think he had seen before, that made the heat rush to his head so quickly that he was almost dizzy with it. His throat dry with the sight of a new part of Merlin being bared to him. He struggled to think how it would feel if he was allowed to sleep in such close proximity during the next several hours of their night. He imagined Merlin rolling over during their sleep; perhaps he had gotten too cold during the night and sought Arthur out for the warmth his body could provide since he had denied letting Arthur use his quite heavy cloak to cover him. Perhaps Merlin would wrap those arms of his around Arthur’s belly in the attempt to keep him close, resting his little head beneath the prince’s chin as he snuggled as close as he physically could. How would it feel to have the scent of Merlin—heady and strong with his hair so close to his face—wafting up Arthur’s nostrils? How would it feel to have Merlin sliding his legs between Arthur’s, curling his pale feet between Arthur’s calves as he tried to warm them up? How would it feel waking up, knowing that Merlin had been plastered to his body throughout the entire night because he NEEDED Arthur in some capacity or another?

Merlin wouldn’t be debased in the night, but… Arthur might be.

“But hey, if you really think you can’t control yourself with the rest of us here, I will be more than happy to take one for the team. I mean, he’s got nobody but his… uncle for company over there, so he might be feeling a little lonely if he’s lacking the right kind of company. The proper kind. If you want me to, as you’ll be sleeping, I can stay around and keep him company. I’ll be staying up since I have first watch anyway, so it won’t bother me none just to stick close to him… you know.”

Arthur stared blankly at the other knight, watching as Christian flipped his hair to get the blonde locks that fell into one eye out of his face. There was an odd and strangely lavish grin on the knight’s face, as if he was more than happy to take Merlin off his hands for the next few hours so Arthur wouldn’t be worried about how… lonely Merlin would be with his prince so far away from him. It left a sharp pulse of irritation and rage to erupt in the center of Arthur’s chest, his hands clenching into fists around his sleeping sack as he caught what the double meaning behind Christian’s words could be. Had Christian just, in some way, propositioned Arthur for his consort’s company? Had Christian asked—in some, albeit roundabout way—for Arthur’s permission to spend an entire night keeping Merlin… entertained. What kind of entertainment would something like that entail? Was Arthur being crazy, or did it sound as if Knight Christian would not mind being given permission to lead Merlin into the woods while the rest of them slept so that he could do… dirty stuff to him? Sex stuff. His innocent and pure little Merlin being at the mercy of a man who wouldn’t know how to treat him right. A man that had gone to ARTHUR for permission, as if it was Arthur’s right as a husband to determine if Merlin entertained other people in this awful way. Arthur knew that it wasn’t a strange concept, that there were quite a few husbands that didn’t mind trading their wife in a night of pleasure with another in order to get something from somebody. But the idea of Merlin being one of them, the idea of Christian believing for one minute that Arthur would allow his consort to be defiled by him… made him physically ill.

Arthur suddenly regretted believing Christian was a good fit for a mission that included seeing to Merlin’s safety.

“I am going to tell you one time, Knight Christian, if I even see you standing in spitting distance of my consort, I will skin you alive. If I see you even looking at him in a way that isn’t with the utmost respect, then your own mother will not be able to recognize you after I reorganize your face. And if I even get a single whiff of you sniffing around my consort again, then I will drop you off at some place that is so far away from Camelot, you will never find your way back into the city before you’ve been caught by the wolves and they have feasted upon your flesh. Do you understand me, Knight Christian?”

Arthur was not playing games, wishing he could do nothing more than take his blade and run Christian through for having such unclean thoughts towards his little consort. Merlin was here on a trip; he was here to work and here to think and here to make decisions about a place that was entirely his own. And it was Arthur’s duty to make sure Merlin had the best time of his life… even if it was a factor that led to Merlin’s decision on whether he stayed or not. Merlin was not going to worry about anything on this trip that didn’t pertain to the estate if it could be helped by Arthur. And that included some drunk who thought it was appropriate to ask Arthur’s permission on something like this! As if needing to get permission from MERLIN wasn’t even something that had crossed through Christian’s mind. Just the idea of his innocent consort looking up with his big blue eyes as Christian approached him, smiling innocently as Christian gave a reason as to why Merlin needed to come with him into the woods, which would lead to Christian trying to take Merlin up against a tree while he had no idea of what was going on… made his blood boil. Merlin was still practically a kid who dreamed about things like the perfect first kiss and the kind of man he wanted it to come from. He WASN’T the type of boy that was okay with having his own VIRGINITY taken from behind, rough and dirty and with little to no preparation to make it easy for him, against a tree like some kind of animal or beast. Arthur only had one reason for not slicing Christian from his navel to his chin, and it’s only because he didn’t want to make Merlin upset, which he would be if Arthur couldn’t get him an accurate reason for why he had decided Christian was not a good fit for their trip.

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!” 

Arthur raised his voice when Christian didn’t answer him the first time, and then he watched as Christian’s jaw went tight when he finally realized Arthur hadn’t been playing around with him. Arthur had never been one to play around when it came to Merlin’s safety, not even during the height of his worst moments or when it was Arthur that was suddenly the danger to him. And perhaps that was what Christian saw in his eyes, or some strange version of it, because the man gave a short and clipped nod. That was all Arthur wanted to see, and he didn’t waste any more time before he was packing back up his belongings, which only involved him rolling up his sleeping sack. He knew he would never get to sleep tonight if he had to stay this far away from Merlin, especially not if there was a chance Christian might decide to test him and do something anyway when the prince was sleeping. The only way to make sure nothing did happen was to be as close to Merlin as he could physically be. Close enough that he would wake in the night if his consort did try to leave, whether the reason was for Christian or not. The prince didn’t spare the other knight a glance as he abandoned the man to take his post where he would be keeping watch for the next few hours, far away from where Merlin had decided to sleep.

But the closer Arthur got to Merlin’s side of the campsite, the closer he got to Merlin, the heavier and slower his feet hit the ground. Merlin wasn’t facing him since he was turned around and saying something to Gaius, waving his hands in the air in a way that had once annoyed Arthur, but he now found it was oddly alluring… Was he really doing this? Was he really going to settle himself down next to Merlin and act as if his heart wasn’t pounding its way the entire time he was in close proximity to him? Was he really going to lie down there and be forced to pretend he wasn’t watching Merlin’s pale feet glowing in the light of the moon high above him, his toes curling and uncurling as he stretched and moved in a way that was just so insanely… Merlin. He could probably forget all about getting any sleep tonight anyway. From the way Arthur was going, it was quite likely that he would fall into cardiac arrest before the night was over with.

X

“Do you really think that they won’t let me have a shift during night watch? It’s completely unfair; that’s what that would be?! I mean, I’m not some princess in their protection that they need to watch over, leaving her free to sleep away all night long! I mean, I could literally see any threats that come miles before they get to us with just a snap of my fingers. If anybody or anything makes it to our campsite, I could probably have them tied to a tree miles away from us before anybody else woke up. So really, if you really think about it, I’d probably be the one that needs to be placed on watch the most. Are you really sure I shouldn’t ask, at the very least, just to see what they say? I’m sure Derrick can be reasoned with.”

And Merlin Pendragon popped his head up, doing a little glance around to see where Derrick would be getting himself set up for taking the first watch of the night with Christian. He was sure that Derrick would understand what plight he was going through at the moment. Merlin didn’t want to spend the whole night just sleeping while the other men took turns taking shifts so that there’d always be somebody on watch. He wanted to be useful too! But Merlin didn’t exactly know what to ask Leon, already figuring the older knight would insist that he just sleep like a consort should while they handed things. And Merlin figured if he asked Tristian or Dorian, they would simply tell him to talk to his husband if he felt so strongly about it. And Merlin wasn’t even going to entertain the idea of talking to either Markus or Christian about something like that. And talking to Arthur, well… the guy was a nutcase. He liked watching Merlin eat and would freak out over something as simple as Merlin collecting firewood and, for some reason, liked looking at funny-looking shells. So no, he wasn’t going to end up doing something stupid—like talking voluntarily to Arthur—when he knew that it would only invite the crazy into his life. Which is exactly why he was talking about all of this with Gaius, who already looked as if he was half-asleep while he spread out across his sleeping sack. Which was easy for him to do, Merlin thought with a pout, considering he had an actual job to do, even if nobody had been hurt, so he wasn’t needed.

“I believe that you simply need to let this one go, Merlin. We’ve got enough of these knights here with us that they simply do not need an additional man for their watching. Especially not if each pair stays with us the full two hours before it’s time for the next group to have their spot.” Gaius said simply, his arm already slung over his eyes as he grumbled beneath his breath tiredly, waving with his other hand dismissively. “Besides, if you think about it, you really need all the rest that you can get. There’s no telling what will need to be done to this new estate of yours, and with us only having three days to do it in. I see that it will be a very busy time for you. I suggest you think about that before trying to take on extra duties you simply need not concern yourself with. Especially if it will involve you using something that you know you aren’t supposed to.”

Merlin stared blankly ahead of him, into the tree line where he could hear just the faintest hint of an owl hooting in the distance, a pout on his face. Maybe it was a good point, his uncle’s reasoning for not getting involved with all of the security measures or other smaller jobs the knights were doing. And he would probably be running himself ragged once they got to the estate… Merlin threw himself down onto his sleeping sack, grumbling under his breath as he buried his face into the makeshift pillow. Sometimes, he really hated it when his uncle was so obviously right about certain things. He could be helping so much if he would be able to just use his magic, without even getting up or even exerting himself much. He grumbled beneath his breath again, muffled curses where he wouldn’t be heard from his uncle, who had already started snoring as he fell to the quick allure of sleep. The sound was soothing, the sign of his uncle’s life to accompany him into the sleeping land… there was a rustle of something he knew to be unknown to him. His ears twitched, but whatever the rustling going on beside him was, it was quite obviously not a bird or such trying to build its nest beside where he slept. When the sound of rustling continued, Merlin was forced to raise his head to investigate the noise, blinking tiredly.

Arthur.

Arthur bloody Pendragon. 

For a long second, Merlin could do nothing more than gape at the prince rolling out his sleeping sack beside him, trying to comprehend exactly what the other man was doing right about now. He drifted his gaze down to the sleeping sack and back up to Arthur, noticing how insanely close the two sacks were next to each other, a scant few inches of dirt separating them, though it felt as if all that space was basically non-existent. Not with Arthur looming over him, the blond-haired man looking as frozen as Merlin felt, as if he didn’t know quite how he was supposed to explain himself or his sudden presence beside Merlin. But Merlin didn’t say a word, simply arching an eyebrow as he gave Arthur a deadpan expression. He had chosen this spot because he had known it would be as far as he could get away from Arthur without attention being drawn to him. But he didn’t know why the bloody hell Arthur had decided to follow him or what the prince thought he was doing by joining him like this. Merlin didn’t particularly fancy the idea of sleeping in the same clearing as Arthur, and yet, the prince decided to choose the one spot that Merlin would rather have his horse shit on than have Arthur sleeping.

“Err… I thought you must have fallen asleep. When you didn’t get back up…”

Arthur’s awkward stuttering had Merlin’s brow twitching violently. Had Merlin somehow bloody missed the fact that Arthur had been watching him for what had to be the millionth time on this trip? Had he missed Arthur standing there long enough to have watched Merlin throwing himself down on top of his sack only a few minutes ago? What fucking possessive excuse was Arthur going to give to him to explain why he had the sudden urge to sleep next to Merlin on this night? Why the hell did he even think it was acceptable for him to lay his sack right next to Merlin, as if that was something they were going to do with every trip out of the city that they may or may not go on in the future? Did the prince not know that Merlin was liable to stab him in his bloody sleep should it be him who woke up first and caught Arthur beside him, vulnerable in the way only a good night’s sleep could bring?

“Go away, Arthur. I’m sure you might not have noticed, but this spot has been claimed already by both me and my uncle. And I am sure you don’t need me to tell you that we are not looking for a third member to join our little group. So I expect you to crawl back over to whatever hole you were going to sleep in, and don’t bother me anymore for the night. I have a lot of work I need to do when we get to the estate in the morning, and I can hardly be expected to do a good job if I have you keeping me up. So just… fuck off.”

Having said his piece and figuring Arthur would crawl away at some point as it became clear that Merlin was too tired to play his little games tonight, he gave Arthur a big show that involved turning around and lying back down so Arthur could only see his back. And bound and determined to ignore Arthur until he’d heard the sounds that would show him Arthur was packing his stuff back up to do what he said, the consort crossed his arms over his chest and acted like he had already fallen back to sleep. Where he at least knew his dreams wouldn’t involve Arthur trying to climb into a bed with him, or something that would be as ridiculous as that. But the seconds continued to tick by, and Merlin did not hear the sounds of Arthur packing his stuff. He hardly even heard the man breathing because of how tightly wound he looked when Merlin had seen him, but eventually, somebody had to be the first to say something. And Merlin was stubborn enough to know that it wasn’t going to be him.

“Errr… I can’t go anywhere, I mean. I can’t really… explain, but I need to sleep next to you. Just for the night, I mean! And then I will be out of your hair once morning comes, I swear. But… I think the both of us are stuck sleeping next to each other for the night. But you shouldn’t worry about a thing! I mean, as I’ve told you, I’ll go away as soon as morning comes. But until then, I just want you to know that you have no reason to be… uncomfortable, or anything. Because I will stay on my side and you will stay on yours, and then we can separate once time permits… alright?”

There was a moment of silence, the air stilling in a way that it always did when Merlin found Arthur had said something so incredibly stupid that it was really hard for him to believe it. Like them sleeping together… sleeping next to each other … Merlin had thought Arthur must’ve hit his head if he was really going to start setting up right beside Merlin. But now, knowing that Arthur had planned on actually staying beside him for hours upon hours upon hours, until the day broke in the sky, had Merlin’s eyes snapping open. And for a second, just one second, he could only stare at his uncle’s sleeping form in front of him. Taking in the snoring as his uncle’s chest heaved up and down with every breath that he took, so peaceful in sleep in a way Merlin found he could never be. And to think, back in Camelot, before Arthur had returned to his life when they met up at the stables, Merlin had finally started getting some decent sleep. Sleep that was going to be interrupted because there was no chance in hell Merlin would be able to sleep when he had Arthur snoring right beside him.

“… Excuse me?”

Merlin didn’t hesitate to throw himself back up, rolling over so that he could sit on his backside and give Arthur the stink eye. He was hoping that Arthur might start laughing and waving his hand as he explained how all of this was nothing but a really poor joke on his part and that he would be going now so that sleep would come easier for the both of them. But the prince’s expression turned to something sheepish and nervous, as if he was preparing for the explosion that was going to happen. Merlin could feel himself going beet red, his face turning tense… Arthur didn’t get to go acting sheepish, as if he were a kid that’d been caught digging around in the cookie jar by his mother. This whole situation just happened to be a bit more important than having his hand stuck in the cookie jar! What was Arthur’s game here? How did sleeping beside him factor into the weirdness that was Arthur’s possessiveness? Couldn’t Arthur just continue to watch him on the other side of the damn clearing like he has been the entirety of the time they’ve been here! Surely Arthur’s weirdness didn’t extend to the prince being unable to SLEEP without knowing Merlin was near, now that they were both sleeping in the same area for the first time. Because something like that was completely overboard, and clearly Arthur needed some serious help if he had upgraded to being obsessed with how Merlin SLEPT, or whatever crazy and ridiculous train of thought he had to explain this one.

“I suggest that you start talking now, Arthur, because there is no way on God's green earth I am sleeping anywhere near you! Because ‘I can’t tell you why, but I need to sleep next to you’ isn’t going to cut it for me! I already know that you can’t leave me alone, but this is next level on your stalking me issue. I mean, I do hope you realize your sack is literally two inches away from me! I toss about in my sleep, and I’m not going to be fucking blamed if you wake up and realize I spent the entire night kicking your shins until they were black and blue! And do you realize this whole ‘set up’ you’ve got going on is all kinds of messed up! I am pretty sure I will have to murder you if I wake up in the morning and realize I’ve got your huge arse trying to cuddle me or something because you ended up rolling over in your sleep or something.”

And Merlin watched as Arthur’s mouth fell open, gaping wide enough that the consort probably could have fit his entire fist into that gaping hole. But Merlin was unamused as Arthur’s entire face turned brighter than his own; did Arthur think Merlin was diseased or something? The prince had never had any trouble touching him before, even when Merlin had demanded he not, and yet, it was as if the thought of ‘cuddling’ had become too much for the prince. He could do all manner of crazy things to Merlin, but apparently cuddling was going to be something he drew the line at? Merlin scoffed, rolling his eyes with great annoyance at Arthur’s back-and-forth attitude. He had trouble enough when he thought back to all those times in the beginning of their marriage when the prince had decided to cage him up against something. It made sleeping next to Arthur something even more vile and disgusting, knowing it was a very real possibility that he could wake up with Arthur plastered to him. Or worse… with Merlin plastered to him! Depending on who rolled over first and whatnot. The idea of cuddling with somebody wasn’t the worst thing to come to mind; there had been many times growing up where Merlin imagined being able to sleep in another man’s arms and knowing he was completely safe and sound. Sleeping in Arthur’s arms, though… that was the exact opposite of safe and sound. That only sounded constricting, as if Arthur was trying to break the wings he’s been trying to form and keep him contained and grounded for his fucking pleasure.

“I’m not… Merlin, please! Just look at where I am going to be laying! There will be at least three entire inches between my bag and yours! So there won’t be a chance of either one of us rolling over or doing… you know… anything like that, I swear to you!” Arthur exclaimed frantically, his face so red that it looked as if a blood vessel had popped somewhere in his head, as he waved a hand down at the space between their two sacks as if to show Merlin how much space the two of them had between each other. But Merlin knew that small sliver of little space definitely looked much smaller than three inches should be. But it didn’t matter if it was three inches or three yards; Arthur would still be way too close for him to be comfortable. “Here, why don’t you just lie down and I will lie on my area, and I can show you that everything is going to be good. I swear, you’ll see! You won’t even realize that I’m here! And I’ll even make sure I wake up as soon as the sun rises so I’ll be gone before you open your eyes! There! Like it never even happened, do you understand me?”

Arthur was starting to look desperate now, but Merlin was stubborn and didn’t give a fuck why Arthur looked so desperate to sleep next to him. If Arthur was trying to plead his case here, then he was doing a really poor job at it. Because it only made Merlin more and more suspicious about his motives. There was no reason for Arthur to want to sleep next to Merlin as far as he could see, besides his own desire to do so. But why would Arthur want to sleep with him? Did this man plan to do something weird to Merlin while he was sleeping and not aware enough of what was going on to stop him? Did he plan on lying down on top of him and rubbing his chest and body against Merlin’s so that Merlin would end up covered in his scent? Did he plan on touching Merlin in weird places, like on his hips or his wrists or his collarbone, like he used to do when he was always pinning him up against something? Did he plan to ease something small so the consort wouldn’t choke on it, between his teeth, pressing down on his jaw just to help Merlin chew, so that the consort could swallow the foreign object since Arthur apparently ‘liked watching him eat’ like the freak that he was? All those were very much valid questions considering Arthur was a man possessed over Merlin, and those were honest-to-god concerns of his. Or, at least, they were concerns of his until he saw something over Arthur’s shoulder that caused him to pause. It was nothing major; it was just Christian and Markus murmuring to each other near where Markus was preparing his own sleeping sack. But… the two of them kept glancing over at Merlin and Arthur. Weird smirks along their faces as if they were laughing about something, as if they thought they would be seeing something amusing the longer they stared at the prince and consort of Camelot. What were they… oh…

OOOOH.

It felt as if the dots were connecting in Merlin’s mind, the reason for all of this happening suddenly becoming apparent to him. Arthur wasn’t trying to sleep next to him because he was being a possessive freak that didn’t want Merlin to be out of his vicinity for even a second. And he wasn’t being a weirdo who was going to do weird things to Merlin’s body when he was out of it and unable to stop it when he didn’t know what was going on. Arthur wanted to sleep beside him because of Markus and Christian! Because they were watching them? Was this all some kind of show Arthur was putting on just for them? It was obvious that Arthur would never want to sleep with Merlin unless there was some kind of hidden agenda there, but Merlin had forgotten about the biggest reason for all the times Arthur had gone out of his way to be nice to him when they were in the presence of others.

Their marriage.

“Are you really fucking kidding me right now? You really wanted to act as if you were all mysterious and shit by telling me, ‘I don’t need to bother myself with anything you do because you can’t explain anything to me right now,’ when all you had to say was that you were trying to put on another show!” Merlin all but exclaimed as loud as he could, straightening out his spine and placing a hand on his hips. Arthur looked taken aback by the sudden show of force that Merlin was giving to him, and the consort rolled his eyes because he was not nearly as stupid as Arthur made him out to be. But just in case the prince didn’t know his little audience was actually watching him, the consort waved his fingers to where the two other knights were situated across the clearing. “I thought that one of the great perks about taking this trip was that we didn’t have to do one excessive thing to make it look as if we really love each other. Like your father insists we do every time there is some event or something going on inside the castle. But I suppose where there are knights, I will never be able to escape it, will I? And since your father isn’t here to enforce it, you decided you had to do something to keep up our little charade, right? And what husbands are actually going to sleep so far away from each other when they are supposedly madly in love? Next time, bloody tell me instead of making me think you’re trying to be all weird because you want to do freaky things to me again!”

And Merlin watched as Arthur’s jaw dropped, as if it was Merlin that had gone and said something so incredibly strange and foreign to him that he could not understand it. But considering Arthur’s track record for doing weird and freaky things to him, the consort didn’t think he was out of line at all to put up a firm boundary like that. Heaven help Arthur if Merlin woke up and found the prince had decided to fondle his hip because he didn’t like the fact that he twitched in his sleep or something as ridiculous as that. Arthur was starting to stutter a whole bunch of nonsense words that were impossible for Merlin to even begin figuring out what he was saying. And Merlin rolled his eyes before deciding he was done with Arthur trying to make lame excuses that were going to get him nowhere. The consort flopped back onto his sleeping sack and made a huge, deliberate show when he flipped over and gave Arthur his back, squeezing his eyes shut as if he could block Arthur out if he tried hard enough.

“If you touch me, you die.”

X

‘If you touch me, you die.’

Those were the last words Merlin had told Arthur Pendragon before he had fallen into a deep sleep not that long ago, leaving the prince to lie on top of his sack and stare blankly at the stars, with his hands folded over his stomach, without any company. The rest of the camp had already settled, and he could hear the rough snores coming in different directions since everybody had scattered to find themself a spot in the clearing. If Arthur had looked up, he would’ve been able to see Derrick and Christian keeping guard while the rest of the men got a few hours of rest in before they had to continue on, but not Arthur. The prince didn’t really sleep much these days. He found it hard to sleep when he always had Merlin in his mind, cursing him out or crying because Arthur had gone and done something to upset him. He didn’t realize he would find it even harder to sleep when that same boy was right beside him… he had never dreamed about a time where Merlin would be relaxed enough to sleep around him. But he had to have been really tired, Arthur figured, as he glanced sideways to where that little consort of his was stationed.

‘If you touch me, you die.’

This was probably the only time Arthur was going to be able to look at the boy without being ridiculed for it, so the prince took his fill while he could. Merlin was cast in so many dark shadows that it looked like it was trying to swallow him whole. But he was all curled up into a little ball, scrunched up in a way that was so undecidedly… Merlin, that it unsettled the prince. Arthur’s eyes traced a slow path up the curved line of Merlin’s spine, the thin blanket slung on top of him doing nothing to hide him from his view. Was Merlin sleeping like this—all protective and defensive—because he knew even in his sleeping state that the prince was near him? Was he keeping himself closed off because he was really worried about Arthur doing… freaky things to him while he was sleeping? This caused a hefty breath of air to escape from Arthur’s mouth, discontented but unsurprised. He wondered how Merlin would have slept if he knew Arthur was a changed man, if he would be willing to stretch out until his limbs bumped their way into Arthur’s. If he would breathe heavier, unafraid to hide his presence as he was doing now, leaving Arthur needing to strain his ears in order to hear the lightest of noises coming from Merlin. So unlike his knights, whose snores felt loud enough that they could have woken the dead.

‘If you touch me, you die.’

Arthur turned his head back to the stars above him, watching the way the little lights danced and winked at him from miles and miles above where he was. He felt as if those stars knew all his secrets and were watching him for what he’d do next. The stars hadn’t exactly changed; they had been there, just the same as they were now, the day he had married Merlin. And they had been the same every night over these last five months, watching each and every mistake he’s made along the way. He was sure they had witnessed all of the ‘freaky’ and all of the ‘weird’ moments between the two of them, as Merlin had come to call it in his innocent mind. He was so terrified of the idea of Arthur doing something inappropriate that he was wholly unaware of other things. Of the way married men were supposed to do, of the way the other men talked about him. One of the reasons his consort hadn’t wanted Arthur to sleep beside him happened to be because the only thing he was worried about was that Arthur would cuddle him as he slept.

‘If you touch me, you die.’

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, releasing a frustrated groan into the crisp night air, remembering how foolish he had acted when Merlin had dropped that line between them. He had simply wanted to sleep beside Merlin in order to make sure nothing untoward happened during the night, but Merlin had taken that to a whole different level completely. He would have been lucky to sleep so close to the consort that his fingers could have grazed the back of his shirt if Arthur gave into such an urge. But the idea of being curled up against Merlin, having the top of his head brushing the underside of Arthur’s chin, with his arms and his legs slung around Arthur’s waist like some kind of octopus creature… it left his heart stumbling. He had almost gotten a nosebleed imagining the idea of it; it had definitely never been something he had thought of before. Arthur was a lone man. He has SLEPT alone every night since he was born. The idea of sleeping curled up with somebody had never crossed his mind before; having somebody so close to him that he could feel their warmth and their sweat and their natural musk was something Arthur thought he would have run from. Hell, even when he had thought he would be married to a woman someday, Arthur had never entertained the idea of her being in his bed for more than the night it would take them to consummate, and then again to conceive a child when it was time for the next heir to be born. But now, he had Merlin in his life, and he had him so close, and he still hadn’t been able to make a move to get consent to kiss him, and he was probably going to leave him soon, and Arthur hadn’t known that Christian was an arse until just now, and… Arthur took a slow and steadying breath to calm himself. To try and ignore the vulnerability he would show by allowing somebody to sleep in his space, trusting them not to kill him the second his guard was down.

‘If you touch me, you die.’

Not everybody could be trusted, though, Arthur knew, as he cocked an eye to where he knew Christian was standing watch. He saw the other blonde-haired man from across the clearing, and the prince scoffed in disgust. The other had not even looked at him since Arthur had made his threat clear to him earlier in the night. He had trusted that bloody man when he had invited him to take on this mission, and yet, here he was making unwanted advances towards the tiny consort at his side. Merlin was so lanky and tall and with gangly limbs, but he seemed to have shrunken down in size because of how tightly he was curled in on himself, and that absolute… Ape actually thought he was good enough to be allowed to touch one little hair on Merlin’s head? Arthur growled low under his breath, dropping his head back down on his makeshift pillow, glaring up at the stars who had witnessed such indecency. He wondered, if they had a voice, if they would also disapprove of something so horrible being done to a boy who shined brighter than all of them combined.

‘If you touch me, you die.’

It would be quite a few hours later before Arthur finally settled down enough to have his eyes start fluttering closed, for his heartbeat to slow down until it was a rhythm only the sleeping could achieve, for his jaw to nearly break into two as he started to yawn. Each breath he took only invited more of the faint whiffs of Merlin’s sweet scent into his nostrils, even with the small distance that was between them. As Arthur started to drift off into the darkness of his dream, his face scrunched up in displeasure, he heard the tiniest whine coming from where Merlin lay, also lost to the world of dreams. And, as Arthur turned over on his side, facing towards Merlin, as he drifted somewhere only the stars would bear witness to, his last conscious thought was…

‘Maybe cuddling with Merlin wouldn’t be so bad.’

X

Sweetness.

Delicious.

A delicacy that ensnared the senses and could draw a person in even when it was clear they were only walking towards their doom. But who could be strong enough to resist such a powerful allure? Like the sweetest of sin and the pure beauty of innocence all rolled into one powerful perfume, it would truly be impossible to walk away from. And Arthur Pendragon, like all men who weren’t able to resist the aphrodisiac being waved beneath his nose like a delicious little morsel, was too weak to try resisting. It was a smell he had smelt before, but it was impossible for him to remember where or when or even how. He just knew it was something uncomfortable, something that was stronger than it had been the last time he had smelt such perfume. Arthur could have bathed in it, as his head grew dizzy the longer he allowed himself to sink into it, if the owner may be merciful enough to allow such a thing. Because Arthur truly felt as if he was needing mercy, he bent his head further, nosing at something that felt as if it was made out of the purest silk, covered in little tufts of hair that kept trying to tickle at his nose.

Something kicked him on his foot.
 
Arthur grumbled under his breath, the roughness of it shaking him away from his dreaming state. He didn’t want to wake up quite yet; Arthur didn’t think he would ever want to wake up because he had a feeling the perfume in his nose would disappear when he did. He didn’t care about whoever or whatever it was out there that wanted to pull him away from this sweetness; he wanted to do nothing more than ignore the outside world for eternity. And that was what Arthur tried to do, curling his arm tighter in response, feeling the odd but solid weight beneath him being drawn closer and snugly. Arthur didn’t know what it was he held, but the scent was pouring off of it in subtle waves that were quite irritable, and the prince grinned to himself, curling tighter around the thing he had claimed as his own. Feeling the long length of something that was both so very unfamiliar and familiar at the same time, pressing against his chest and legs … It was so bloody warm.

Another kick hit him on the sole of his boot.

Arthur hissed something that was incomprehensible to most anybody, sensing something that wasn’t supposed to be there, something that was upsetting his beauty in his arms as soft little sleep whines met his ears. The prince curled in a tighter ball, hitching his leg up higher over the object that he held, twisting a bit to give the threatening object his back. It wasn’t going to take away any of his sweetness; it wasn’t going to steal away something that he adored with all his heart. Arthur heard the being in his arms murmuring, but the prince didn’t do anything more than nuzzle softly behind its ear, where the scent came from the strongest. Arthur’s arm worked its way up until he felt the steady pulse of a heart beating against the palm of his hand, and Arthur’s body relaxed as if it was a rhythm meant to soothe even the most savage of beasts.

A kick much sharper than all the others hit him again.

This time, the kick sent something like electricity flying into Arthur’s brain, and the prince’s eyes flew open, startled as sudden awareness flooded throughout the rest of him. Arthur’s head jolted up, his arms going tight as if preparing for a battle if they were being attacked. But, Arthur realized a moment later, this is probably a battle he did not want to face for as long as he lived. Because there was a monster standing in front of him, a deep and terrifying monster that had eyes so red, it was clear how incensed they were by Arthur. The prince wouldn’t say he had ever cowered before—unless Merlin, when he was in a mood, counted —but the monster in front of him made him want to shrink into the ground just to avoid its furious stare.

“Arthur Pendragon, I do hope there is a really good explanation for what I saw when I woke up this morning. Because I don’t believe that this is how I left the two of you the night before. And I sincerely hope you did not do something to my nephew that he did not want you to do.” Gaius Whytt was snarling over him like a rabid, lecturing beast of a killer. There were others behind him, the other knights, though it was clear that nobody else was brave enough to get into the family matter that this clearly was, keeping their heads down as they cleaned up the campsite to make it look as if they were never there. “Oh, what exactly am I saying?! I think both you and I know that my nephew would never allow for something like this to happen?! So, what, did you wait until he was sleeping so he wouldn’t be able to stop you while you accosted him? God help you, Arthur, if I find out you put your hands somewhere intimately that they should not be wandering to!”

Arthur’s mind was still sleep-deprived, still shaken from the sudden fury that he was facing so early in the damn morning, that it wasn’t until he heard that quiet murmuring he’d been hearing in his sleep that his brain caught up to just what was happening. The lightest of murmurs, the softest of twitches that the body could not stop itself from doing, and Arthur’s eyes shot down to look at that warmth he had been holding onto so intimately. It felt as if Arthur’s heart was racing faster than a jackrabbit, his gaze landing on Merlin, the peace that was etched on his face as he murmured something Arthur couldn’t discern for the millionth time. Merlin… Merlin… Merlin… Merlin had been sleeping so snug and tight within his arms. How long have they been sleeping like that? Exactly how long had Arthur had his leg slung over Merlin’s hips, where it left him with his pelvic bone pressed into the rounded curves of Merlin’s bottom? How long had Arthur been sleeping with his arm tucked against Merlin’s chest, holding the smaller boy so close that he never had a chance to escape him? How long had Arthur’s face been buried into the subtle curve of Merlin’s large ear, where he could breathe and breathe and breathe in that perfume for as long as he’d be allowed? How long had it been before Merlin’s every curve and angle had melded against his own, so intensely that Arthur himself would’ve struggled to see where one of them ended and where the other started?

And Gaius had seen him like this…

Panic drew his brain into overdrive as he realized what this might have looked like to an observer who didn’t know the full story—did Arthur even know how the two of them had ended up locked together? He didn’t, but he knew that his consort’s uncle had just caught him being… untoward with the consort, and he had just caught Arthur… fondling his nephew. Gaius had seen… had seen Arthur touching Merlin and holding Merlin, and God forbid, dare he say it… CUDDLING HIM! Just like Merlin had warned him the night before. But it wasn’t Merlin that was cuddling Arthur. It had been Arthur holding onto Merlin as if he were some kind of beast that refused to allow its mate to leave the hollow of their home. But it …cuddling was something that was supposed to be innocent, even if it was so intimate in nature. And yet, Arthur felt as if Gaius had just walked in on Arthur trying to… trying to… trying to shove his hand down Merlin’s pants in order to touch his personal private bits in order to sate his own curiosity, or something as ridiculous as that. Arthur needed to fix this; he needed Gaius to know that whatever had happened between him and the consort had been nothing other than a completely innocent encounter.

“Gaius, I swear, this isn’t what it looks like! I’m just… nothing happened! I was just lying here sleeping, and then… you’ve got to believe me when I say that I would never… dishonor Merlin by doing something he didn’t want me to do to him. I mean, no… that’s not what I mean!” Arthur exclaimed as a rapid amount of words escaped his lips faster than he was able to keep them in, panicking as Gaius narrowed his eyes harder and deeper at him. He felt as if he had his foot in his mouth, as if he didn’t know what to say to explain something such as this to the older man. Surely Gaius knew that Arthur would never… wouldn’t ever TOUCH Merlin like that without his permission or anything. Yes, there had been a time when Arthur would have done whatever he wanted if he thought it would give him some sort of control over Merlin. But… his Merlin was just this sweet and innocent little thing, even when he was behaving like the firecracker that could set off the entire world if he desired to, and Arthur would never want to hurt him in such a way. Not now that he knew the consequences of such a thing would involve losing Merlin forever. Hell, the only reason he has slept by him to begin with was just to make sure his OTHER men didn’t try anything in the middle of the night. But perhaps Arthur should have been looking at what he was doing more than what others were doing. “I simply want to say that all of this is just a terrible misunderstanding. And I am sure if we wake up Merlin, he will tell you himself that nothing happened in the night. I mean, it isn’t even possible for anything TO happen. I mean, there have been guards on watch all this time. Do you really believe I would do something if there was a chance of them watching… OOF!”

Arthur exclaimed loudly as he fell back onto his backside, wincing when it felt as if the muscles in his shoulders were pulling tight. That was his own fault for sure. Arthur had made the mistake of trying to get up in order to confront this terrible foe of his, but he had somehow forgotten that he was still entangled in Merlin. Merlin’s head itself was lodged firmly on the prince’s shoulder, keeping him neatly in place and pinning him there, little light tingles shooting through it as if his arm had fallen asleep beneath the pressure. It was starting to ache far too fiercely for it to be normal, but Arthur was pretty sure, if he had woken up first and was able to take stock of the situation, that he wouldn’t dare budge in case Merlin liked using his bicep for his own makeshift pillow. But now was not the time for such things, not when Merlin’s uncle looked as if he was getting quite ready to castrate the prince. And considering the man was highly trained, he probably knew all manner of methods in order to… hurt him down there. If now was the time for Merlin to wake up to calm the beast that was his uncle, then it couldn’t have come sooner.

“Honestly, after these last few months… I don’t think I know what to make of you any longer, or what you may or may not attempt to do to my nephew.”

Arthur’s head snapped up, a startled but silent gasp escaping him. But Gaius showed no remorse for the horrible thing he had just said, practically tossing Arthur’s past actions into his face with just a few measly words. Arthur didn’t know he could feel so… defeated in the face of Gaius’ disgust towards him. It felt no different than it would have felt if it was his own father standing in front of him now, all but cursing his existence because he had done something that caused their family shame. But Arthur hadn’t caused his family shame; he had caused Gaius’, which in a way… was his family now. And Arthur already knew it was not something that welcomed him with open arms. Gaius had all but been there for him each and every time that his father hadn’t been when he’d been growing up in the castle and had far too much work to do to give his heir any semblance of fatherly care that he might’ve needed. But Gaius didn’t need to have Arthur to fuss over. He had Merlin now. And Arthur had dishonored him in ways he never should have done. Even now… he had been pressed against the consort without his consent, and that was only another form of dishonor. The consort had warned him, if Arthur dared to touch him while he slept, then he’d kill him for it. And right now, that didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world to face. Especially not if it was by Merlin’s hand.

“I…”

Arthur froze as something moved beside him, something more firm than the simple twitches a body might make as it slept. And while he was too scared to look and see for himself, he saw that Gaius had also taken notice of the twitch because he was looking down at the sleeping package in Arthur’s arms. Arthur didn’t dare budge even as he felt Merlin starting to shift and move around, turning his body until he had flipped over. Arthur’s breath escaped him when it was suddenly the other way around, and it was Merlin—still caught in the bliss that was sleeping but not sleeping as well—that was cuddling with him. Arthur held his hands as stiff as he could, angling away from touching Merlin’s body with Gaius’ watchful stare on him, but it felt as if his entire body had started to tremble.

With Merlin’s breath hot against the underside of his chin…

With Merlin’s fingers scraping uselessly against his chest plate, trying to grab onto something to hold onto…

Merlin’s leg hitched up until it was hooking around one of Arthur’s, pulling the appendage close enough that Arthur could have sworn he felt the heat of the consort’s more… delicate places against his knee.

This was like one of Arthur’s dreams come to life, this imagined place that only existed to himself, where Merlin was comfortable enough to be himself around the prince. A place where Merlin smiled freely every time they saw each other, a place where Merlin was willing to hug him when he wasn’t too drunk to know he was doing it, a place where Merlin knew Arthur would offer his shoulder the second he wanted a place to lay his head down. But it was an intimate position that Merlin had just rolled himself into, and it twisted the fantasy to something that was out of his nightmares, where they were being watched and scrutinized to the minute detail. Where Merlin only did such things freely because he lived in a place that left him unaware of how he was behaving. And when Merlin moved once again, the prince bit back a curse as the consort arched his back so that he could stretch out his muscles, which only succeeded in pressing him so much closer to Arthur. Every sharp angle on Merlin’s body, every gentle curve or sweet dip that shifted from chest to leg, seemed to meld itself into Arthur as if it was trying to become one with him. If Arthur closed his eyes and tried not to think about it, he could pretend that he didn’t feel Merlin’s private bits as it tried brushing against his outer thigh…

Another breath against the underside of Arthur’s chin…

Another sweet mumble that sounded like the meow of a cat…

The relaxed atmosphere as Merlin sunk into him…

The brush of hair under his chin as Merlin moved his head a bit more…

The pressure on his shoulder is easing up…

And then the crystal-clear blue eyes of his consort looking at him, sleepy and innocent and…

Merlin’s piercing scream was loud enough that it shook the trees, resulting in several birds taking flight to escape the sound.