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Chapter Text

Face deep in the bathroom basin, water dripped from the ridges of Arthur’s skin. Cascading along the bridge of his nose and the jut of his brow bone, he submerged himself once again, a light gasp escaping his lips as he came up for air.

“Merlin…” he called, eyes still shut. “Merlin!”

With silence being his only reply, Arthur blew water past his lips. Rinsing the soot from his brows and nostrils, he gave his cheeks one final scrub before patting his face dry. As he rounded the corner, he stopped in his tracks- eyes landing heavy on his servant.

“There you are… Merlin, did you not hear me calling you?”

Crouched before the fireplace, Merlin gave the ash a few final pokes before standing. Pressing his hands against his knees, he dusted them off at his sides with a sigh.

“Sorry, Sire. What can I do for you?”

“Well, after this week’s journey I was thinking a bath seems well deserved, don’t you?”

“That sounds quite lovely,” Merlin added, feet and hands moving involuntarily at the sight of the prince standing tall and wide-stretched. Peeling off Arthur’s armor piece by piece, Merlin piled it onto his shoulder before taking a step back. He nodded firmly at his handy work.

“That settles it,” Arthur clapped. “Have one of the other servants help you draw it- and make sure the water’s boiling this time. The last time you did it alone, I felt like I was bathing in a lake.”

Arthur smirked, particularly proud of his quick-thinking. Prepared to face one of Merlin’s snarky remarks, his brows dipped when met with silence.

“Do you have wax in your ears or something?”

“No, Sire. I assure you, everything’s coming in loud and clear,” Merlin breathed. “One bath coming right up.”

Raising his brow, Arthur paused.

“What, no witty comeback or clever retort?”

Heading for the door, Merlin wagged his finger, turning on his heels.

“I tend to save those for special occasions,” he replied with a fake smile before disappearing into the hall.

Left alone as often as is, Arthur took this time to stew in his thoughts. Still in today’s clothes, he plopped down on his chaise near the fire, thumb rubbing his chin. Since when did Merlin become so dreary? Looking back on it now, he supposed the journey home was rather quiet- free of complaints or the usual nitpicks. In all fairness, the entire hunting party seemed rather worse for wear; a safe conclusion drawn from sleeping on branches and scaling jagged hillsides. Or had he pushed Merlin too far these past few days? Admittedly, Arthur had let his words get the best of them. He knew sending Merlin into the cave first was a bad idea, despite trying to prove a rather stupid and futile point. In hindsight, Merlin was only a servant- he was no true night of Camelot; and overtime, such harsh words would wear down even the sharpest of swords.

With a thud clashing against his room door, Arthur dragged his attention away from his worries. Entering the room with two pails on his shoulders, Merlin stopped on a dime- the wood of one clinging against the wall as he avoided hitting a chambermaid on her way out. A bit of water spilled onto the floor.

Merlin huffed with tight lips and clenched eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” replied the young girl, hands over her mouth.

“It’s fine,” Merlin said, shortly.

“Let me get a rag. It shouldn’t be too much trouble to clean u-,” she began, Merlin cutting her off.

“No need.”

Allowing Merlin to pass, she stepped to the side with a curtsy. Tucking her hair behind her ear, the young girl’s flustered gaze at his servant was not lost on the prince. After flattening the sides of her dress, only then did she turn her attention toward Arthur.

“These should be the final pails, your grace.”

“Thank you, Alana,” Arthur nodded. “That’ll be all.”

“Good night Sire,” she smiled, offering a final curtsy before leaving.

Hearing the last few ounces of water fill the tub, Arthur stood peeking around the bend of the bathroom. Hanging onto the archway, he watched Merlin wipe his brow with his sleeve, dirtied and stained. He rolled his neck and shoulders, back cracking slightly when he twisted. As he stood, Arthur hurried back to his chaise, flipping through a book just in time for Merlin to enter.

“You’re all set, Sire,” Merlin said, bending down to wipe the puddle of water near the door. “Bath’s nice and hot.”

“Very good,” Arthur nodded, trying to look busy. “That’ll be all for tonight, Merlin. You can drain it in the morning.”

“Good night, Arthur,” Merlin bowed before exiting the room.

Arthur listened to Merlin’s feet shuffle down the hall. Fighting the urge in his chest, he lost, springing into action not a moment later. Standing from the chaise, he rushed to the door before yanking it open.

“Merlin!” he called, voice barreling down the halls. 

Merlin froze, shoulders straightening as he turned around.

“Yes, Sire?”

Suddenly, Arthur forgot how to speak.

He could practically sense the night’s guard’s ears perk up in an instant- those of the gossiping chambermaids not too far out of ear shot. Catching sight of Merlin’s tired blue eyes, the sudden silence made Arthur feel vulnerable.

Clearing his throat, he spoke.

“… There are no towels,” he said sheepishly.

“I’ll go get some.”

Nodding, Arthur slipped back into the room, making a b-line toward the bathroom. Plucking a set of towels from a nearby stool, he stuffed them in his drawer of night-shirts like the clot pole he felt like. Taking a breath, Arthur stood near his bed idle; hands on his hips, he began pacing, eyes never leaving the front door. As the sounds of footsteps approached yet again, he rushed toward his divider, fingers making quick work of his shirt’s drawstrings. Soon, Merlin entered, closing the door behind him.

“Arthur, I’ve got the towels.”

“Brilliant! Just lay them on the stool near the bath.”

Sauntering toward the tub, Merlin placed them as told; head shaking at the empty space. If he hadn’t been so absent-minded, he would already be halfway to his room by now. How could he forget something so simple? Bending down, Merlin dipped his hand into the tub; a huff of disdain for the new chambermaid falling from his lips.

He had seen the young girl in passing, preparing Morgana’s breakfast or fetching a few dresses from the royal seamstress. And after engaging in the smallest of conversations- though a bit bubbly for his taste, Merlin deemed her suitable for tonight’s task… A choice he quickly regretted.

Merlin had asked her to keep her steps light, an agile pair of legs needed for fetching Prince Arthur’s bath water; but upon their second trip up the castle steps, it was clear Alana’s attention was held by more important things…

Her wandering eyes were no bother. Though burning holes into him at times, they had no effect on her pace- it was her uncanny need to play the distressed damsel that irritated him the most. After cleaning up the first ‘accidentally’ spilled pail of water from her dress, Merlin knew he had to move double time. He did well to ignore her girlish giggles and lingering hand on his arm, but as her clumsiness resulted in yet another spilled pail, her apology fell on deaf ears. And even now, as Alana had long since left his sight, her tacky immaturity continued to haunt him in the form of lukewarm bathwater. 

Sparing a glance toward the divider, Merlin let a quick spell cast from his tongue- eyes glowing as they often did. Soon, the water roared with steam. Too tired to hear more of Arthur’s whining, Merlin patted himself on the back. His quick thinking had surely saved him from yet another one of Arthur’s entitled lectures. After all, such a spoiled man would never let him live something like this down. He’d probably waste the entirety of breakfast raving about a hard night’s sleep spent shivering in bed. Or perhaps he would sense a cold coming on from such a frost bitten bath. Merlin laughed at the idea. Spotting the prince’s shadow dance along the wall, he watched his hands and arms flail. With his shirt soon landing atop the divider, Merlin plucked it down gently.

“You’re all set, Arthur,” Merlin said, discarding it in a nearby wicker basket. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Not unless your scattered brain has forgotten something else…”

“I think that’s about it.”

Arthur nodded, head pressing against the divider ever so slightly. Scolding himself in silence, he knew he had to speak up before Merlin had the chance to leave; in fact, he was probably headed for the door right now. Arthur had spent many days hiding behind the cover of this very wall, listening to Merlin hover about the room. Often mumbling to himself, he’d recite his own snappy comeback out of wishful earshot of the prince, or on rare occasions, humming a rather catchy tune stuck in his head. Never willing to say it out loud, Arthur quite liked these moments; their brief breaks in cast system standards, giving him time to see Merlin for Merlin. Hearing the boy’s feet shuffle toward the door, Arthur forced himself out of his comfort zone.

“Merlin,” he spoke, emerging from the divider. “Is there something on your mind? You seem rather down.”

“No, not really.”

“What, is the servant life too strenuous for you?” Arthur poked, regretting it instantly.

“Well, someone has to keep you in line,” Merlin grinned. “If not me, then who?”

Another fake smile .

Another way to mask such a strained look on his face; Arthur hated it.

“You were quiet on the ride back home. It was a bit unnerving, I suppose… I’ve gotten too used to your banter, no matter how horrid I think it is.”

Staring at Arthur, Merlin stood perplexed- like he often did when the prince decided to be kindhearted or thoughtful. It was a soft sentiment that left Merlin buzzing with warmth; a strange emotion coming from a man whose appearance was all but soft and simple.

It was clear that Arthur was a well-built man. With muscles defining his arms and back, waist broad and lined with abs, ‘fighting-fit’ was the perfect allegory. Lost in the way his chest hair gleamed by candlelight, Merlin had to come to his senses. Now was not the time to ogle, he thought, shaking it off. He could do that later. Perhaps on his own time, in his own bed under a set of warm sheets… Who knows, maybe tonight would bring a different Arthur to him, one that he could actually touch and breathe in like he found himself wanting to do these days. But that was just it- it would always be another Arthur; not the one before him…

Sighing, Merlin shook his head, “I’m fine. Just aches and pains of the week, I suppose.”

“Maybe Gaius could fix you something?” Arthur suggested.

“I’m sure it’s nothing a good night’s rest won’t cure.”

As Merlin turned toward the door, Arthur caught him yet again, this time his voice sounding gentler than before.

“How about a bath?”

Merlin peaked over his shoulder to find Arthur sitting on his windowsill, head against the concrete. Merlin snorted.

“Not all of us have the luxury of a boiling bath like you, Arthur… Don’t look now, but I think your privilege is showing.”

Arthur frowned at Merlin’s dim-wittedness. He pushed himself off the wall, stepping closer.

“I meant mine.”

“That one?”

“Yes, that one,” Arthur mocked.

Merlin chuckled out of nervousness, “Wha- I… Arthur, I can’t. Thank you for the offer, really, but it just doesn’t seem right.”

“Oh, come on, Merlin,” Arthur said, hands slamming down on his shoulders. “You look more beat than me. Go on.”

Pushing his servant toward the tub, it was clear he meant business. Trying to protest, Merlin stomped his feet every so often, but eventually, they too began to cave under the pressure.

“Arthur, really… You deserve the bath more than I do.”

“I insist.”

Merlin turned toward Arthur once again, lips parting to speak. Arthur stopped him.

“That’s an order, Merlin.”

A bit in shock, Merlin stared at the bathwater, steam rising from the pool. With such a strenuous week resting on his shoulders, he had to admit it did look quite inviting. Hours upon hours, days upon days spent saving Arthur’s ass more than once was not an easy feat. Writing them off as close calls and acts of sheer luck, Merlin did, in fact, deserve something more than a trip to his own bed; he deserved the royal treatment.

“Feel free to use the chambers if you’d like,” Arthur replied, patting him on the shoulder. “And, oh look! You even have fresh towels. ” 

Covering himself with one of his robes, the prince shuffled toward his chaise; refocused on his discarded book, he flipped to a bookmarked page.

“If you keep staring at me Merlin, your water’s going to grow cold.”

Eyes dropping in agreement, Merlin disappeared behind the divider, stripping himself of his clothes. He had to admit, standing in the same room as Arthur while naked was more nerve wracking than expected. Feeling vulnerable to say the least, Merlin couldn’t wait to get under the cover of water. Scurrying toward the tub, he smiled at the steam rising to meet his nose. Finding Arthur buried in his pages, he stepped into the tub not a moment later. Water rising to his shoulders, he let his head fall back- a sigh escaping from his lips.

Arthur couldn’t help but smile.

~/~/~

Merlin’s time spent in the tub escaped him. 

He had no real sense of the minutes that passed, only an inkling given by the now melted candle resting on the edge of Arthur’s desk. Now half its previous size, it sat in a hardened pool of its wax- a mess he was sure to clean up later. Glancing toward the fireplace, Merlin found Arthur no longer stretched out along the chaise. Searching with his eyes, he noticed the prince’s bed was still neatly made, the organized piles atop his stationary still untouched. To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur stood over his shoulder, leaning against the basin. Though trained in his direction, the prince’s stare- seemingly elsewhere, still managed to make Merlin’s heart skip a beat.

Clearing his throat, Merlin sat up, water splashing as he did; Arthur blinking foolishly.

“You’re awake,” he smiled.

“I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep,” Merlin replied, knees retracting to his chest.

“It’s fine. You weren’t out for long…”

Arthur ran his hands along his thighs, eyes dipping down at the silence. Catching sight of the pail at his feet, he nodded.

“Oh, your um… Your bath ran cold, so I changed it out.”

Merlin looked down at the pails lining the tub- a couple empty, others filled with murky water. Wiggling his toes, he began to feel heat circling his feet and thighs.

“You actually changed the water?!”

“I do know how to do things for myself, Merlin,” Arthur admitted.

“… Well, thank you.”

Arthur nodded, clearing his throat, “There’s soap and a sponge on the stool… And be sure to get your hair, you have patches of soot in them from the cave.”

Merlin watched Arthur walk away with an awkward step. Chuckling to himself, he dragged the sponge across his skin, water squeezing onto his shoulders. Once his hair had been lathered, arms and chest now free of dirt, Merlin dipped the Pouring Pitcher into the tub. Mindful of the mess, he let the water trickle over his head; trails of soap cascading off his nose and lips. Merlin ran his fingers through his hair, damp palm wiping the water from his eyes- the sound of Arthur’s book slamming with frustration causing him to jump.

“For God’s sake, Merlin!”

“What is it?” Merlin sighed, blinking away his blurred vision.

“I’ve watched you miss the same bloody patch of hair for twenty minutes now.” Quick on his feet, Arthur shuffled toward the tub, sleeves now pushed past his elbows. “I swear Merlin, your lack of coordination scares me.”

The servant laughed.

“You’re one to talk. After years of being your servant, I’m still amazed that I’m able to get you out of bed, dressed and fed most mornings without you tripping over your own laces.”

Snatching the pitcher from Merlin’s hand, Arthur shot him a scowl.

“Give me that.”

Filling it with water, Arthur held a steady grip on Merlin’s shoulder; fingers pressing at his nape, Merlin tilted his head in compliance.

“Hold still… I wouldn’t want to drown you.”

With a gentle thumb rustling through his scalp, water pouring over his skin, Merlin let out a sigh. He could feel the tension in his neck loosen, the aching of his shoulder blades melt away. Maybe a bath was just what he needed. After the second dip of the pitcher, Merlin felt the grip along his nape slide ever so gently. Arthur’s palm rounded the side of his neck, touch cupping him just below the ear. His fingertips grazed the front of his throat, the press of his thumb controlling Merlin how he saw fit. By the fourth pass, Arthur had rid him of all his suds. Sure, the clear water trickling over his skin was a dead giveaway, but Arthur couldn’t care less. At this point, it was purely cosmetic- nothing more than a selfish want to prolong the look of content on Merlin’s face… A look Arthur had quickly come to love.

It was alluring how Merlin looked in this light.

What a difference the soft glow of a candle could make when compared to that of the sun; then again, even in the daytime, Arthur often found himself staring at Merlin just as he did now. Stealing glances at him when he laughed, eyes carefully peeled when he drifted off into thought.

There had been something so innate about the way Arthur looked at his servant in recent months. The way he watched Merlin wait on him hand and foot, secretly wanting to do the same in return… And now as Merlin laid soaking in his tub, being tended to by none other than Arthur himself, the prince realized this was his chance.

No longer an arm’s length away, Arthur found himself closer to Merlin than he expected. Taking advantage of the surge in his confidence, he allowed himself a moment to take it all in; the pitcher in his hand falling still in the water. With the cool touch of metal brushing against his thigh, Merlin blinked- heart sinking to his stomach.

Had he moaned out loud?

Sure, it was no secret Arthur’s royal treatment had relaxed Merlin to an entirely new level of comfort. The sensation of warm water and a gentle breeze had reduced his thoughts to putty; and yes- the sudden feeling of something foreign touching his thigh was unexpected to say the least, but a literal moan rising from his throat seemed a bit much. Did it not…? He had to, thought Merlin. After all, it was the only logical explanation for Arthur’s stare locked on him the way it were.

Carefully, Merlin took note of the prince’s chest; the way his hair trailed up his sternum, peeking through his robe. Merlin watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed, lips shining when he licked them. Slowly working his way up, he finally met Arthur’s eyes… Those gorgeous, clear blue eyes he often dreamed about. Lured in by the thumb brushing at his lobe, Merlin’s hand emerged from the water. Finding its place against Arthur’s jaw, he leaned in; the two eventually meeting in a kiss.

Arthur’s brain had long since stopped working. Merlin’s lips were tender and sweet- full of everything he had imagined, everything he had dreamed. The genuine touch of Merlin’s hand running through his hair was a welcome surprise, anything other than his fingertips trailing water down his back failed in comparison. Leveraging his hand on the side of the tub, Arthur leaned in for more. Groaning at the welcome surprise of the prince’s tongue, Merlin eagerly met him halfway.

Soon, a heavy knock rang out against the bedroom door.

“Sire!”

Arthur pulled away, startled.

Standing, he glanced toward the door, the sounds of splashing water and damp footsteps scrambling behind him. Arthur’s heart thumped in his ears. Vision blurring as he turned, the glimpse of Merlin’s bare skin peeking beneath his towel made his knees go weak.

“Sire,” the voice persisted.

Rushing toward the door, Arthur tidied his robe. Parting his hair, he placed a hand on the door handle, sparing one final glance at his servant taking cover behind the divider.

“Alana…?” Arthur blinked, frowning at a basket of chopped wood resting on her hip. “Uh, yes- how can I help you?”

“Pardon the intrusion, your grace, but King Uther ordered more firewood be brought to your room. Camelot seems to be getting a bit more wind this winter, I’m afraid.”

Stretching his body along the door frame, Arthur carefully blocked her line of sight. Flashing a fake smile of his own, he reached for the basket.

“Well, thank you for that, Alana. That’ll be all.”

The girl tightened her arm around the wicker, “I can prepare it, if you’d like.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.”

“It’s no trouble at all, really… After all, it is my duty.”

Annoyed and quickly running out of patience, Arthur glanced over his shoulder. Spotting the blue of Merlin’s shirt disappear from atop the divider, his heart sank.

“It’s fine, Alana. Thank you ,” he snapped. “I’ll just use it as spare for the morning.”

Handing over the firewood, Alana curtsied with a faltering smile.

“As you wish, Sire… Good night.”

“And to you,” Arthur replied, shutting the door.

Dropping the basket next to his chaise, the prince scrambled around his side table.

“Merlin?” he shouted in a whisper. “Merlin!”

Heart sinking at the sound of his name, Merlin emerged from the divider- redressed . Adjusting his scarf, he avoided Arthur’s eyes.

“I should go.”

“Go?” Arthur questioned, stepping in front of him. “What do you mean? Merlin, you don’t have to leave.”

“Arthur, it’s fine, really; I- I should go. Gaius will be expecting me, anyway.”

Side stepping, Merlin started for the door- Arthur latching onto his arm.

“Merlin, wait. I’m…” he began, Merlin cutting him off with a smile. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-.”

“I really have to go, Arthur… Good night.”

Swiftly pulling away, Merlin offered the prince a bow before exiting the room. Careful to keep his head down, he moved swiftly past the guards and down the corridor stairs. Still adhering to the castle rules, Merlin used all of his might not to sprint through the courtyard; a sense of anxiousness making him crawl out of his skin. He tugged at his scarf constantly, the slip of two fingers seemingly making the difference between him and suffocation. Once reaching the Court Physician’s doors, Merlin felt as if he was on the verge of collapse. Tiptoeing around Gaius’s cot, he backed into the workstation- an absurd number of vials and bowls rattling as they regained balance. It wasn’t until Merlin made it to the safety of his own room that a sigh fell from his lips.

He leaned against his door, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Raking his fingers through his hair, he gripped his curls tight- the embarrassing blush of his ears revealed. Wanting to disappear into the darkness of his lids, Merlin clinched his eyes shut.

Chapter Text

On the contrary, the sun that peered into the Physician’s Court the following morning was nothing to be shy about. With a few windows cracked and the front door left ajar, Gaius often enjoyed the breeze that came with the days. Pestling a few herbs, he shuffled around the room looking for his medicinal beaker- not to be confused with his cooking beaker, as Merlin had once done. He still recalled the unpleasant aftertaste of wiggle worm and porridge on his tongue. Shaking off the bad memory, Gaius laid eyes on a twine-tied bottle resting on his storage ladder. Raising it to the light, he uncorked it with a swirl and a sniff before returning to his seat. Ever so gently, he tipped its contents into the beaker. Soon, the sound of a familiar voice broke his concentration; a drop of the luminescent pink spilling onto the table with a hiss.

Gaius sighed.

“Merlin?”

“It’s just me, I’m afraid,” he replied, dabbing the table with a damp cloth. Tossing it aside, he poked at the scorch-stained wood now in its place.

“Oh, Gaius,” Arthur exclaimed, back straightening in the slightest.

“Good morning, Sire.”

“Good morning,” he nodded. “Gaius, have you seen Merlin?”

“Not since he left earlier this morning.”

“And when was that?”

“Just after dawn. I assumed he was running errands for you.”

Arthur frowned, hand resting on his hip.

“He should be, but he didn’t show up this morning. Do you know where he went?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have a clue,” Gaius replied with a shake of his head. Mixing the tonic and herbs, he did so slowly and gently. “Have you tried the armory?”

“Yes. I checked the armory, the stables, the tavern- even the dungeon…”

Sighing, Arthur stared at the ceiling, fingers pinching his brow.

“Is everything alright, Sire…?”

“Yes, Gaius. Everything is fine,” Arthur replied, tone taking an immediate improvement. Waving his hand, he shook his head- lips pursed with a shrug. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Perhaps I’ll give a look around the library.”

Turning on his heels, Arthur paused under the doorway.

“Gaius?”

“Yes, Sire?”

“When he returns, could you… Have him find me, yes? My buttons need shining for tonight’s dinner.”

“Of course,” Gaius nodded with a wrinkled brow.

Passing a nod of his own, soon, Arthur had gone just as quick as he came. 

Leaving his paste to cure in the sun, Gaius wandered toward the fireplace. Carefully, he stirred a cooking pot suspended above the flame, boiling steam dampening his face. After taking a sip, he poured a small amount into a bowl- the careful shuffles of his feet leading him right to Merlin’s door. He knocked before entering.

“Arthur just paid us a visit,” he said, approaching a bunched figure under the sheets. Sitting the bowl on a nearby table, Gaius found himself a seat at the foot of the bed- the figure coiling to make room. “… And I must say Merlin, he seemed quite vexed .”

Shifting under the blanket, Merlin buried his face into his pillow. He felt sick with despair. Somehow finding the courage to speak, he grumbled.

“Arthur’s always vexed.”

“That may very well be, but I do believe something is troubling him… Just as much as what troubles you.”

Merlin replied with silence.

“Well, whatever it is, I’m sure you two will reconcile in your own time… But if you insist on spending the day hiding from Arthur, the least you can do is do it productively,” Gaius sighed, hands patting against his knees before standing. “I have a few errands for you to run away from Court.”

“I’m not hiding Gaius, I just… I just don’t feel well today; that’s all,” Merlin admitted.

And in all honesty, it was true- Merlin didn’t feel well.

From the moment Merlin climbed into bed, his stomach had been in knots. Peeling off his clothes, he curled into the sheets; tossing and turning a great deal before falling asleep. And with his face nuzzled into his pillow, it was the splitting headache at the back of his skull that alerted him to the Morning Robins outside his window. He had just mustered up enough courage to throw back the sheets when he heard the sound of Arthur’s voice beyond his door. If Merlin wasn’t in the best shape before, he sure as hell wasn’t now. Heart beating double time, Merlin sat on the edge of his bed with clenched fists. He couldn’t bear to face Arthur. Not now, not after everything he had done. Merlin had made a complete fool of himself, allowing recklessness and carelessness to get the better of him. Upon hearing the sound of footsteps nearing his door, like a child, he cowered under his sheets- a large lump left sitting in his throat.

No, Merlin didn’t feel well at all.

“That is why I brought you this,” the elder replied, tapping at the table near the door. “It’ll help you regain your strength.”

Merlin peaked from underneath the blanket just enough to see steam rise from the bowl. Swallowing, he turned his back.

“I’m also leaving a list of errands I need you to run later… Feel better.”

Following the sound of the door clicking against his latch, Merlin looked up from his pillow. He stared at the sunlight casting on his sheets, his view of the world now sideways and rose colored. Despite his want to stay hidden away forever, Merlin knew it would do him no good. Sitting up after a moment, he placed his feet into his slippers before wandering over to his desk; pulling up a chair, he mowed over his thoughts in the silence of his slurps.

~/~/~

Just after midday, Gaius walked out of his chambers with his basket in hand and a pep in his step. Though a bit more chipper than usual, he still had half a mind to pull the Court Physician’s doors to a close before hanging his recently acquired ‘Gone to Market’ sign.

… At least, that’s what Arthur could see from his position on the back hall stairs.

You see, the prince had spent the better part of his morning searching the castle for his ever disappearing servant. Upon waking up with a bit of hunger in his stomach and less than six hours of sleep, Merlin was nowhere in sight. He wasn’t drawing his drapes nor skimming his breakfast tray of sausage; in fact, as Arthur looked around- confusion clouding his mind, he realized Merlin had not been around at all. Not since last night. Perhaps he was hiding out in the tavern, he thought- drowning whatever sense of fear he felt at the sight of Arthur. But upon finding the bar practically empty, the stocks and the stables just the same, Arthur began to worry. This morning, he visited Merlin’s chambers as his last saving grace. Hoping to see his dark-haired friend mumbling to himself by the fire, Arthur followed the sounds of mincing to find Gaius in his place. Turning away with his tail between his legs, Arthur found himself back at the courtyard stairs. Upon seeing the older man head out into town, Arthur saw no harm in taking a look around; just to be sure.

Moving quickly, he shuffled under the archways and around the corner, now face to face with the Court Physician’s doors. With the push of a finger, one creaked open, the prince seizing the opportunity to slide through before being seen. Back against the door, he sighed; a mixture of nerves and disappointment boiling over… The room was empty. Not putting it past his old friend, Arthur checked behind the curtains and under tables- the width of his servant’s persistence knowing no bounds. But to no avail, there were no signs of Merlin anywhere. Left with an unusual pit in his stomach, Arthur placed his hand on the door handle, willing his knees to stand strong just a little longer. Just as he could feel himself crumble, a door in the far corner of the room creaked opened.

With his eyes glued to a scrap of paper pinched in his hand, Merlin creeped down the small set of stairs. Pulling the door closed, he fixed his shirt onto his shoulders. Eyes falling onto the prince from across the room, he froze.

Arthur looked different.

His hair was a bit disheveled, clearly combed through with his fingers rather than a proper brush. The drawstring of his shirt was more than improper; uneven and miswoven, it revealed a little more than Merlin could handle. And the blues of his eyes seemed sadder… Somehow, Merlin knew he was the cause.

“I knew it.”

Feeling queasy at the sound of Arthur’s voice, Merlin struggled to find his footing. Folding the page along the creases, he stumbled toward his satchel.

“I- I know I missed the meeting with the Council this morning,” Merlin began, packing his satchel with a few vials and empty jars. “But I was feeling a little under the weather.”

“Liar,” Arthur said softly.

Once again, Merlin ached.

“Listen, Arthur, I can’t talk for long. Gaius needs me to run a few errands out of town, and I won’t be back until later on tonight if I hurry, so I really must be going. ”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, taking a step forward; his servant ignored him.

“Oh, and I know I need to clean your armor for tomorrow afternoon- and it will be done, I promise, but for tonight’s dinner you should have two jackets to choose from. I polished the buttons and clasps on each before we left earlier this week; they’re in your wardrobe.”

Buckling his satchel closed, Merlin pushed off the table.

“ Where’s my jacket? ”

Sighing, Arthur reached for his servant’s shoulder, narrowly missing it as he bent down. 

“There it is,” he said, sliding his arms inside.

“Merlin.”

“Arthur, I really have to go,” Merlin said, starting for the door. “I can come see you once I’m back and if neither jacket suits your preference, then I can-.”

“ For God’s sake , Merlin, just stop!”

Merlin stopped in his tracks; his back to Arthur. Eyes heavy on the floor, he swung the straps of his satchel. A somber silence lingered in the air.

“Merlin, last night I… Last night I crossed a line, and I’m sorry. I should never have kissed you.”

Merlin winced at the apology.

For once in his life, Arthur had finally felt comfortable enough to act on his own free will. What sprouted as an act of complete selflessness had turned rotten. Deemed selfish at the ridicule of his servant, Arthur had once again denounced his desires for the sake of others. It was a feeling Merlin knew all too well.

“I know it may not seem like it, but I am aware of the power that comes with being a prince and last night, I abused that power by putting you in a very vulnerable position,” Arthur swallowed. “I took advantage of you, Merlin, and I accept full accountability for that-.”

“You didn’t,” Merlin interjected through a mumble.

“What?”

“You didn’t take advantage of me.”

“Then what else would you call it?” Arthur frowned, voice cracking as it raised. Unable to hide his nerves, he clenched his fists. “Go on, then, Merlin. Enlighten me .”

“I don’t know,” Merlin said softly.

“Exactly…” Arthur nodded, hands dragging across his face. Raking them through his hair, he let out a bitter chuckle. “Oh if my father were to see me now… craving the attention of someone who won’t even look at me; I must be mental.”

Merlin dropped his head. Taking in a deep breath, he turned on his heels, eyes locking with Arthur’s.

“You’re not mental, Arthur,” he said. “And you didn’t take advantage of me either.”

“Enough, Merlin. You don’t have to coddle me; I’m a grown man, after all.”

“As am I, if you couldn’t tell!” Merlin huffed. “I’m not some fragile thing who doesn’t know how to think for himself. I can take accountability for my own actions, you know… And you didn’t abuse your power to force me to do anything. The decisions I made were my own, thank you very much- so you can quit your sulking.”

Arthur paused, color returning to his cheeks.

“Well, I should at least apologize for making you feel uncomfortable.”

“You’re not responsible for my discomfort either,” Merlin mocked. “I have no one to blame but myself.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

Merlin blinked, awkwardness falling over him like an ill-fitted suit.

“I wouldn’t call it avoiding .”

“Really?”

“No.”

“No? Well, let’s see, you fled from my chambers during the middle of the night and have spent the better part of the morning hiding from me- I’d call that avoidance.”

Merlin stood tongue in cheek; Arthur cocking his brow.

“Fine, I’ve been avoiding you.”

There it was.

The reality Arthur had been dreading to face from the moment Merlin ran away. They couldn’t dance around it any longer and hope for the best- no, Merlin had avoided him, plain and simple, and Arthur knew why.

Giving pause, the prince nodded, collecting his thoughts.

“I’m sorry you felt the need to…”

Merlin swallowed, adjusting his bag on his shoulder; Arthur letting out a breath of relief. 

“And now that we’ve talked this out like men, you don’t have to any longer… So, you can quit fiddling with that sheet of paper you’re pretending to be errands.”

Merlin frowned, spotting the list now crumpled in his fist.

“I’m not pretending, Arthur, I really do have errands to run for Gaius.”

“Oh,” Arthur replied, a hint of sadness coloring his eyes.

Merlin’s heart sank in the slightest. Tucking the sheet in his pocket, he tilted his head, a smirk crawling across his face at the idea.

“You know,” he chirped, “If I hurry, I can be back by dark. And perhaps, after I bring these to Gaius, I can stop by your chambers personally and let you know I’ve returned… You can tell me how awful the dinner was, and maybe we can even- I don’t know, talk about things then.” 

Merlin had given Arthur a sense of hope.

Smiling to himself, the prince felt as if he had regained a sense of normalcy- though, to his displeasure, it was already slipping through his fingers. No, this was too great a feeling to let go, too precious of a moment for it to be so fleeting. Stepping forward, Arthur smiled.

“How about I accompany you?”

“You’ll what?” Merlin asked, seconds away from digging the wax out of his ears. 

“I can go with you,” the prince declared, with a chuckle. “Yes, that’s precisely what I’ll do. It could be fun.”

“Fun?!”

“I don’t see why not,” he shrugged.

Arthur looked like a kid in a candy store. Eyes gleaming bright, he beamed with a shrug; Merlin nearly blushing on the spot… God, he was adorable.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, shaking it off, “We just spent nearly a week in the wilderness together, now you want to head back out for another night?”

“You said it yourself, with luck you’d be back by dark. But with the two of us, I’m sure we can cover double the ground in half the time.”

“You don’t even know what we’re looking for.”

“Which is why you’re coming along as well,” Arthur mocked, hands clamping down on his servant’s shoulders. “Jesus, Merlin, it’s a wonder how you’re still breathing.”

Merlin rolled his eyes.

“Meet me at the stables, will you? I’ll run and get my things,” Arthur smiled, swinging on the door handle, before pulling the door to a close.

Once again, Merlin was left in silence.

“The more, the merrier…”

Chapter Text

Arthur was right, taking the horses did make for better time. He and Arthur had left Camelot only a few hours ago and they were already on the last item on Gaius’s To-Do list. Doing well for themselves, Merlin took in the sights along the way. Where he would only spare a glance at the fields of marigolds, Merlin got to roam them leisurely. Mesmerized by the ombre of lavender and tiger lilies, he breathed in the fresh air like his life depended on it. 

He needed this- the sun on his face, wind in his hair. Not to mention, the sight of Arthur sporting his hunting vest with his sword brandished at his side was a plus. Closing his eyes, Merlin saw the world at his feet. 

“Are you sure you know where we’re going?”

Taking a deep breath, Merlin smiled.

“Yes, Arthur, I know where we’re going… I always come this way when foraging for mushrooms.”

“Well, could we have at least picked a route that was a little less grim?” Arthur frowned.

“What, is the foraging life too bleak for you, Sire?”

“Possibly, I’ve seen caves with better atmospheres than these woods; it’s just so dreary and cramped.”

Opening his eyes, Merlin laughed.

“You’re the one who insisted staying on the horses, I normally walk through these parts.”

“Well, I didn’t want to waste momentum,” the prince said, eyeing the tree trunks as they narrowed ahead. Veering off the path slightly, a branch whipped through the air- a few wet and dirty leaves slapping him across the face; Arthur spat. “Jesus!”

Merlin ducked, hiding his smile.

“Is it always this muggy?”

“Yes.”

“How dreadful…”

Merlin shook his head.

“The mushrooms we’re searching for thrive in humidity, and with the trees around here growing so close together, their leaves trap in all the moisture when it rains.”

“If they grow better in heat, why not do all of your foraging in summer and be done with it? The weather will be perfect, and the leaves can keep the sun out.”

“In Camelot, it rains more in the spring. The more rain means more humidity, and more humidity means…?”

“… More mushrooms,” Arthur nodded.

“Now you’re catching on.”

Arthur paused.

“How’d you discover this forest anyway? I’ve spent my entire childhood roaming through the woods of Camelot and have never seen these trees. I doubt it’s even marked on any map I’ve ever seen.”

Slowing his horse with the pull of his reins, Merlin kept his eyes peeled to the ground.

“We’re on the edge of Camelot, just outside the kingdom lines- makes sense why you’ve never seen them… Also, the King’s Guard don’t use these woods for traveling or trading. Since they can’t trek through them long enough, they can’t gather all the proper tools they need to cut them down; which is a plus.”

“And how is that exactly?”

Climbing off his horse, Merlin wandered to a nearby tree. Following a crack along the bark, he reached into the base of the trunk before plucking something from the dirt.

“… Because if they cut down the trees, we wouldn’t have these.”

Squinting, Arthur spied a small hue of orange in the palm of Merlin’s hand.

“And what are they, by the way?”

“Golden Oysters,” Merlin smiled. Spotting Arthur’s twisted face, he deadpanned, “… The mushrooms we’ve been looking for.”

“Great! That’s everything on the list. Now let’s grab a handful and get the hell out of here.”

Filling his satchel pocket, Merlin laughed, “We’re not done yet. This’ll only boil about two cups worth.”

“And how many cups does Gaius need?”

“Ten.”

Rolling his eyes, Arthur let out an agonizing groan.

“You wanted to come along,” Merlin added.

Preparing to hook his foot into his stirrup, Arthur watched Merlin with a glare. Sighing, he cleared his throat.

“Hand me one, will you…? At least, then I know what we’re looking for.”

Readjusting his saddle, Merlin kited his horse alongside Arthur’s. Handing over a mushroom, he watched the prince study it with intent. Fondly, he smiled before continuing on- horse trotting with a click of the tongue.

“You know,” Merlin began. “I never thought I’d see the day… Arthur Pendragon doing moderate manual labor . What a sight!”

The prince could practically hear the shit-eating grin on his servant’s face.

“Careful Merlin, if you keep that tone up, I’ll have you cleaning my floors with strenuous manual labo r.”

“Oh Arthur, don’t be such a child.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re behaving like a child, whining the entire ride here. Even when we were picking the Hawthorn Berries, you whined about repeatedly getting pricked.”

Arthur blinked.

“Need I remind you to watch your tone, Merlin, I am still your prince.”

Merlin turned to meet Arthur’s eyes.

“Where are my manners…? Forgive me, Sire; allow me to correct myself. You, Prince Arthur, are not a child- no, I stand corrected… You’re a royal ass.”

Merlin raised his brows, lips pinched to hide a rather sly grin. As he kicked his horse to march on, Arthur blinked in disbelief.

“Very original, Merlin…” Arthur stuttered. “It’s not like you’ve used that one before.”

Shaking his head, Merlin caught wind of that of running water. Happening upon a stream some few yards ahead, Merlin dismounted his horse.

“What is it? Have you found more mushrooms?”

“Not yet. We’ll stop here for a drink and let the horses rest a bit before we continue.”

Following suit, Arthur dismounted his horse, thighs sore and rump numb. He had never expected foraging to be so… tiresome. Right now, Arthur wanted nothing more than his bed and a cold tankard of mead- no wonder Merlin spent most of his downtime in the tavern. Taking a rest near the stream, Arthur took a sip; scooping up a handful, he cooled his neck with a splash.

Watching from afar, Merlin could see a hint of fatigue lodged in the prince’s brow.

Admittedly, Arthur’s lack of the more miniscule tasks required more patience than Merlin had, but he did enjoy the company. He enjoyed the life he lived these past months; the mornings spent with Arthur’s grouchy disposition, their days together going on rather arbitrary quests, but within the past few hours, Merlin secretly wished for more nights like the previous. More nights with Arthur’s warmth close to his… and even more chances to feel those precious lips on his.

No, Merlin thought. These were the same thoughts that landed him in the very mess at his feet. When did he start thinking of such things in the first place?

Perhaps it was after Gwen had left Camelot, leaving Arthur to grieve on one’s shoulder but Merlin? Or perhaps it was before, during the breath of their short-lived relationship…? Had Merlin rooted for their downfall all along; had the joys of seeing Gwen pull away give him butterflies or did they form by happenstance? That he couldn’t tell. All that Merlin knew was the sight of Arthur these days made him feel as if he could fly over the moon. 

God, what was he thinking? Spending more time with Arthur was doing more harm than good. They had merely tended to the problem with a tourniquet, all the while the illness still remained underlying. Maybe they could address it later, once Merlin got his head screwed on straight. Or perhaps they should let sleeping dogs lie. After all, he was meant to protect Arthur. Pursue his destiny to help Arthur rise as the once and future king, not daydream of ways the prince could rise under his touch.

Throwing it all to the back of his mind, Merlin dusted off the leaves clinging to his sides.

“If you’re ready, we can head after the rest of the mushrooms. Their clusters aren’t too far off from the stream.”

Sighing, Arthur closed his eyes, resting against the bark of a nearby tree.

“We can return here after and set up camp for a bit of food,” Merlin shrugged.

Standing to his feet, Arthur mounted his steed, heels clicking against his stirrup.

“Lead the way then.”

~/~/~

Now that the sun stood lower in the sky, the humidity in the air had died. There was a breeze that passed along the bank of the stream, a cool stillness running down the skin of Arthur’s nape. Taking a bite of his sandwich so carefully prepared, he glanced at Merlin rummaging by the fire; the harsh clear of his throat getting his servant’s attention.

His servant uncapped his water skin, standing to his feet.

“Thank you,” Arthur replied, sipping from his refilled cup; Merlin went fuzzy at the feeling.

With Merlin settling across from him, the prince spoke after a moment.

“I must admit, Merlin, I underestimated you.”

“How so?”

“I didn’t expect foraging to be so … hard .”

“Well, it’s no easy feat,” Merlin shrugged. Taking on a heroic tone, he showcased an idiotic grin. “But it is one that must be done.”

Face twisting in disgust, Arthur winced.

“You’re fetching herbs and berries, not running into battle.”

Nodding awkwardly, Merlin bit into his sandwich- specs of bread dropping onto his lap. Catching sight of Merlin’s pout, Arthur smiled to himself. 

Though strenuous in unforeseen ways, today was a day Arthur would always remember- this moment, one he would cherish forever. Watching as daylight dwindled through the trees, Arthur took in the sight of the horses drinking from the stream; Merlin growing full on the food he had snagged from the kitchen just hours earlier. He enjoyed the smell of the fire and the touch of the wind; the sounds of the forest pleasing him to no end. It was such a contrast to that of the royal life. He didn’t have to mind his posture nor his manners; had no one beckoning for his attention every hour of the day. There was no need for speeches or ever-evolving plans of attack, neither was there a monstrous pressure weighing heavy on his shoulders.

No, here, the world was perfect. 

Breathing deep, Arthur twiddled with his gloves mindlessly.

“Merlin?”

“Hmm?” his servant hummed, thumbing at the corner of his mouth.

“What was your life like before Camelot?”

Tilting his head, Merlin swallowed.

“Well, that’s quite the loaded question, isn’t it?”

Arthur watched the sky, turning on his back. With his arms slotted behind his head, his propped knee swayed back and forth.

“I’m just curious,” he admitted.

“Well, you’ve already seen Ealdor, it isn’t much. Quite literally, everyone knows everyone, so there isn’t much you can get away with- if anything at all,” Merlin snorted.

Taking the last bite of his sandwich, Merlin quickly came to the conclusion that Arthur wanted more. Catching sight of his side eye, the boy shifted along his log; feet crossing at the ankle, he shrugged.

“But, I suppose it wasn’t all that bad… My childhood was fairly nice- simple and happy. I had a few friends with shared interests, but the older I grew, the shorter the list. In the end, I only had one, but one was all I really needed.”

“Your friend, William?”

“Yeah.”

“He was a good man.”

“And a good friend, as well,” Merlin said, drawing in the dirt with a stick. Chuckling to himself, he smirked bitterly. “My first true friend; many firsts, in fact… He was the first person I would tell my secrets to, the first to show me even an ounce of kindness- not because he had to, but because he could; the first person apart from my mother I felt genuine love for.”

Arthur’s heart sank a bit, a small nagging thought at the back of his brain finally confirmed. Merlin continued.

“It’s a bit funny, don’t you think, how relationships work? How some can last forever, others quickly running their course… You know, when Will and I were younger, we would pitch in for work by tending to the crops. Since there weren’t many of us in Ealdor, everyone had to lend a hand, even the children; so that’s how we did our part. As I got older, I took a liking to the odd jobs: tilling the soil or repairing fences, even helping Old Man Simmons on occasion, but Will didn’t. He kept to the same chores, day in and day out.”

“Perhaps, he found them peaceful?” Arthur asked.

Merlin snorted, standing to his feet.

“He didn’t find chores peaceful, he thought they were just as mundane as I did. The only difference was Will felt Ealdor was all he deserved. That was when I realized we wanted different things.”

Crouching near the stream, Merlin washed his face; Arthur contemplating over his shoulder.

“Do you think I could do it?” Arthur asked.

“Do what?”

“Live a life as a farmer.”

Reclaiming his seat, Merlin sat with a thud and a chuckle.

“A farmer…?! You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you?”

“Don’t get too excited. You’d be there, of course.”

“And what will we be doing on this farm, exactly?”

Picking apart the leaf in his hand, Arthur sighed.

“Well, you’d be peeling potatoes or chopping onions for dinner. I’d tend to the horses, keeping them groomed and well-fed. We’d have a decent plot of land, nothing too difficult on upkeep, but big enough for them to run around and graze in. Maybe a few corners wide enough for you to grow your golden mushrooms or whatever it is your big brain desires… I don’t know really, I just- I think it would be nice.”

Arthur’s voice carried an air of content, his eyes gleaming like the waters of a lake Merlin wanted to drown in. A stupidly bright smile lined his face; blonde hair sprawled along his forehead, gold like the jewel of his sword. Falling victim to his pull, Merlin let gravity take him. Head barely brushing against Arthur’s, he sank.

“I never pegged you to be such a dreamer.”

“Like you said,” Arthur replied, sparing him a glance. “I’m full of surprises.”

“Arthur, I think you could accomplish anything you put your mind to… Even if it’s wanting to be a farmer. ”

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat, Merlin’s honesty always reassuring.

“Well, what about you, Merlin; what’s your big dream?”

“Originally, my dream was to come to Camelot; meet new people, make new friends,” Merlin replied, taking a moment to think. “After living in Ealdor for so long, I wanted to be a part of a community that wasn’t so stuck in their ways; somewhere more open-minded… I always thought Camelot was a place where I could be me.”

“… And now?”

“Now…?” Merlin said, eyes dropping with his smile. “Some days, I realize Camelot is just a kingdom.”

Arthur shifted.

“The world expects too much of us, Merlin; that’s the blessed curse of being born. Growing up, we’re swaddled with fairy tales telling us the sky’s the limit, only for us to get older and have the blanket ripped from underneath us.”

“The world isn’t as crude as it may seem,” Merlin said, passing a smug look. “There’s no need to be cynical, Sire.”

With Merlin propped on his side, Arthur turned to face him.

“And why not?”

“It may be dark at times, but it still gives us light.”

“Oh please,” Arthur said, head falling back.

“No, Arthur, think about it; the world may be bleak at times, but there’s always an upside. There’s always hope.”

“Hope?”

“Yes, hope. You know, that flutter of butterflies you get in your stomach when things go right? Or that perpetual feeling of weightlessness when around someone you love…”

Arthur blushed, the glow of the fire hiding it from view.

“And yes, I know hope can only take you so far, but that’s why dreams are forever. After all, no matter how terrible the day may have been, the Camelot of my dreams is something I’ll always have.”

“Well, I suppose there’s always the farm.”

“Yes, there’s always the farm.”

Smiling stupidly, Merlin turned his head, the brush of Arthur’s breath catching him off guard. When did they get so close? Oh, who was he kidding, it didn’t matter when or how. All that mattered was that with every breath against his nose, Arthur grew closer; and yet, Merlin couldn’t fight the urge to move away. His body willed him to stay, trapped under Arthur’s gaze- frozen under his touch. He wanted to feel his touch again, needed to feel his touch. As a last ditch effort, Merlin spoke.

“I should stoke the fire, it’s getting a bit cold.”

His voice was timid, unconvincing even to himself. Ears burning a bright red, he looked away- Arthur’s finger under his chin, drawing his focus.

“The fire’s fine, Merlin.”

“… Arthur, we shouldn’t.”

“I know,” the prince said, whispering against his lips.

They were crossing a line; the line between servant and master, a prince and his hand. What was once etched clear in the sand was now blown over and misshapen. Though unspoken, both men had teetered along all day… And now, here they were, rendering equal with the meeting of their lips.

There would be consequences, sure- but those were problems for their future selves. Currently, they were at peace reveling in the danger.

Again, time escaped Merlin; somehow fleeting whenever Arthur kissed him in such a way. Opening his eyes, he witnessed the sun beginning to set- the dreamsicle swirls of the sky fading slowly. Coming up for air, he pulled away, hand pressing at Arthur’s chest.

“Arthur, the sun’s already setting. We should head back.”

“In a minute,” the prince nodded, thumbing the palm of Merlin’s hand. “I promise.”

Once again, Merlin found himself melting at the taste of Arthur’s silver tongue. It was all so unholy, that very breath ghosting over his lips, laced with poison. So sinful, the way in which he wanted to breathe him in. Clinging to Arthur’s jacket, he pulled him close. The prince groaned delightfully into his mouth.

Oh yes, Arthur was going to be the death of him.

“Seriously,” Merlin said, wiping the traces of Arthur from the corners of his mouth. “We need to get you back before the dinner begins.”

“Surely, a couple more minutes wouldn’t hurt.”

Sliding out from underneath Arthur’s arm, Merlin stood to his feet. Dusting off his pants, he straightened his shirt with a huff.

“For you maybe, but if the King realizes you’re still not back from your 4-hour-long ride in the woods, he’ll somehow find a way to blame me.”

“Quit worrying Merlin. It’s barely evening and the dinner doesn’t even start until nightfall.”

Merlin shot Arthur a roaring glare.

“Sure, it doesn’t start until nightfall, but we won’t get back for another one or two hours if we hurry . Not to mention, I have my own chores to get back to, thank you very much.”

 “Fine,” Arthur sighed, rolling his eyes. Rolling over onto his side, he brushed a few patches of dirt off his gloves. “We can head back… As long as you promise not to complain the rest of the way.”

Merlin stopped in his tracks.

“Complain? I don’t complain.”

Arthur replied with a raised brow.

“I don’t! You know, you’re not the only one who stays busy around here, Arthur- no, not by a mile. The first thing on my To-Do list when returning to Camelot is giving Gaius these Hawthorn berries before they dry out. Otherwise, I’ll get an earful about how useless they’ll be because I decided to dilly-dally around in the forest. Once that’s done, I still have your armor to polish for the third jousting tournament in the last two months. It seems like the King’s list of event ideas has run its course, if you ask me…

And another thing, when we return, I have to run numerous buckets of boiling water up several flights of stairs for your precious bath. Let’s not forget you’ve literally been rolling around in mud, and we can’t have you showing up to tonight’s dinner looking a mess, now can we?”

Huffing, Merlin nodded to himself at a job well done; chest heaving slightly as he caught his breath. Feeling the burn of Arthur’s stare, Merlin caught his eye.

“What?”

“Nothing…” Arthur smirked. “I just find it funny how you’re worried about time now- you know, after you’ve spent the last hour or so mucking about with me in the brush.”

Kicking dirt onto the fire, Arthur fixed his hair before unhitching his horse. Tightening the saddle, he climbed aboard.

“Well, come on then; I’d hate to make you late.”

With the click of his tongue, Arthur nudged at his horse’s side. Walking forward, he glanced over his shoulder only to find Merlin frantically following behind. After a bout of silence, Merlin mumbled to himself.

“Dollop-head.”

Arthur smiled.

Chapter Text

Arthur hated these things.

Hated the way the hall bustled with excitement, hated how the long tables looked filled with doe eyes and entitled faces. Hated how attentive he had to seem despite being bored beyond belief. Thinking it high time he showed interest, Arthur straightened his back- Pendragon Red glimmering as he pulled at his lapel. Thumbing over his buttons, he smiled at their shine, thoughts of a certain someone fading at the sound of his father’s laughter.

Appeasing yet another one of the King of Eldorwyn’s half-witted jokes, Uther took a sip of his ale. With a hardy smile, Lord Aelfric Edborn followed suit; his own chalice rising to meet Uther’s. Arthur was pretty sure the ink on their latest trade treaty was still drying on the king’s desk, yet the two men celebrated as if their alliance was already etched in stone. As far as Uther was concerned, it was… Tonight’s dinner was meant to commemorate. A feast dedicated to the union of Camelot and Eldorwyn for generations to come. A marriage declaration between the two kingdoms, set to take place in two months’ time. So here, at the head of the hall, Prince Arthur smiled proudly like the pawn he was; his father to his left, and said wife-to-be on his right.

To be fair, the Lady Colette was a rather lovely woman. Having heard her name over the past few weeks, Arthur recalled vague images of her, a kind and sweet young girl while he, a shy yet chivalrous boy. ‘Always two steps ahead,’ she reminded him upon their introduction some few hours ago. And though it was clear her wits still prevailed, in today’s light the Lady Colette was poised and well-mannered. Her once short and mangy hair was now braided and jeweled; mud-soaked dress, presently tailored to fit her every curve.

In hindsight, she was the perfect woman: gentle on the eye, easy to talk to and from their brief conversations, quite the strategist. The only problem was, Arthur couldn’t keep his eyes off Merlin…

From the moment he entered the Great Hall, the prince watched his servant with rather attentive eyes. Following him from the stiff hold he kept along the back wall to the circuit he made around the room- horderve tray in hand, Arthur never once lost sight of him. And even now, as Merlin stood talking the ear off a rather plain looking chambermaid, Arthur couldn't help himself. He had little interest in the Lady Colette’s conversation nor her small quips for his attention; no- the prince was focused on more important matters… Like what on earth Merlin could have said to make that chambermaid giggle like she did.

Arthur could feel his ears turn red. 

With the brush of a finger against his wrist, Arthur’s bouncing knee stilled under the table. Finding the Lady Colette’s hand resting on top of his, he blinked in bewilderment. 

“Would it be prudish of me to ask for more wine?” smiled the Lady.

“Uh… No,” Arthur frowned, sounds of the festivities flooding in. “No, of course not.”

Raising a finger in the air, Arthur cleared his throat.

“Merlin!”

Cutting through the bustling of the hall, the sound of his name on Arthur’s lips raised the hairs on his neck. Excusing himself with a bow, Merlin shuffled over to the top of the hall; smoothing out the sides of his shirt, he lowered himself to the prince’s ear.

“Yes, Sire?”

“The Lady Colette would like more wine. How about you make use of your time and go get her some,” Arthur hissed.

Readying an internal eye roll, Merlin caught sight of the Lady Colette’s hand resting atop the Arthur’s. Stomach churning at the sight, he disliked the way her ruby nails brushed his sleeve- the very sleeve of the jacket Merlin washed and polished himself.

He would have to wash it again , he thought; a little extra elbow grease needed to rid its velvet of her perfume. Merlin also hated how close she was. The two were already sitting side by side- less than an arm’s length away, yet the Lady Colette still found the need to lean into his personal space. Eyes drilling from Arthur’s face for just a moment, she passed Merlin a glance. Stiffening, the servant stood with a final bow; he offered his excuse, shuffling away with a smile. 

“Of course, Sire.”

Sparing Merlin a final glance, the Lady Colette adjusted her braid over her shoulder. 

“Well he’s quite the looker, isn’t he? That Merlin…”

“… I suppose,” Arthur replied, wide eyes staring out into space.

“Though there’s no need to be jealous, Arthur. I’d say you grew up to be rather handsome yourself.”

Taking note of the lady Colette’s nails fiddling with his jacket buttons, Arthur pulled away with an awkward laugh.

“Well, thank you, Lady Colette.”

“Oh please, Arthur, we knew each other as children; call me Colette.”

Arthur nodded.

“How much of our little adventures do you remember, by the way?”

“Very little, I’m afraid,” Arthr admitted.

“Oh that’s such a shame! We used to have so much fun on our quests through the hedges in my back garden… Or the great battles along the creek with our wooden swords.”

“No… Not ringing any bells.”

“Well I supppose that’s rather fitting,” teased the Lady. Taking the final sips from her chalice, she shrugged knowingly. “… Seeing as how the loser often longs to forget his defeat.”

Arthur caught sight of her eyes peering over her chalice; he scoffed, brows furrowing with arrogance.

“I doubt that, even as a child my swordsmanship was impeccable.”

“That’s true, but mine was better. ”

Oh, now she had his attention.

For someone so poised, the Lady Colette sure was well versed in pushing Arthur’s buttons. Thinking hard for a rather appropriate comeback, the prince recalled a few images from his past.

“Now that I think about it, does Lord Edborn have a pond in the back garden?” he asked curiously.

 “We used to, but it’s gone now; father had it filled in a few years ago.”

“Was it near the tree line of the forest, by chance?”

“That’s the one,” she nodded.

Arthur’s eyes went wide, excitement raising him out of his seat in the slightest, “You pushed me into that pond, if memory serves.”

“I pushed you into the pond quite a few times, actually… But it’s not like you didn’t deserve it.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Originally, my father had the pond built as a gift to my mother, but after giving birth to my brother, she fell ill and rarely visited; so for the longest time, it sat in the back garden filling with leaves, twigs and Lord knows what else… Anyway, as children we hated that thing- so much so, that whenever we’d challenge each other to a duel, the loser had to jump in.

Of course, I always kept up my end of the bargain, but even when you’d lose fair and square , you’d always make a show out of being beaten by a girl. So, when I grew tired of your whining, I’d push you in.”

“I remember that,” Arthur chuckled. “That pond smelt absolutely horrendous. ”

“It did! The maids were always furious when I marched into the house, hair smelling of bog… That was one of the reasons my father forbade me from playing with you, you know?”

“Really? I always assumed it was the result of one of my father’s alliances falling through.”

“Well, eventually it did, but not until years later; back then, he simply thought you were a bad influence.”

Taking a sip from his chalice, Arthur adjusted in his seat; turning to face the Lady now, he raised his brow.

“Well, back then I was so desperate to follow in my father’s footsteps of becoming a knight of Camelot, I probably was.”

“Well, at least you fulfilled your dream. I wanted to wield my own sword and shield some day, but now I wear gowns and pearls for my armor.”

“Well, if it means anything Colette, they’re very becoming of you,” he replied with a sympathetic smile.

“Thank you,” she bowed. Pausing, she thought for a moment- a whisper in the back of her mind nudging her forward. “Arthur… Would you care to dance?”

Arthur’s stomach sank to the floor. Had he given Colette the wrong idea?

Sure, they had gotten off to a rocky start with their introduction being rather cold and stale, but now they were laughing like the old friends they were. Reminiscing on childhood antics over wine, the two nobles had slipped into a sense of comfort now giving caring glances with a side of emotional support… They were bonding. Building a relationship that would one day blossom and grow- one that would be a bedtime story to future generations to come; and all from the prince’s ignorance no less. Arthur felt embarrassed. He had no intention of leading the Lady Colette on. After all, such actions done unwittingly or not would be unknowable when one's heart already seemingly belonged to another.

Swallowing, Arthur did his best to muster the courage.

“Colette, I don't think that would be a good idea.”

“And why not?” asked the voice of his father chiming in from over his shoulder.

“Well,” Arthur chuckled, a lie forming like a lump in his throat. “I- I wouldn’t exactly call this music for the occasion…”

Placing a firm hand on his son's shoulder, Uther leaned in.

“A Pendragon never turns down a Lady’s offer to dance, no matter the reason.”

“Yes, but you must admit father, the music is rather dry for a dance; is it not?”

Uther took a moment to scan the hall, nodding with assurance.

“That can be arranged…”

Arthur was dumbfounded. His father had never been so accommodating, even in the presence of honored guests, yet tonight seemed to be one of many firsts. As Uther leaned back to grab the attention of his own Royal hand, Merlin soon reappeared by Arthur's side, wine pitcher in hand. He feel the lady’s chalice was one arm tucked behind his back.

“My apologies lady collette, we had to retrieve a fresh picture from the cellar.”

“Thank you, Merlin,” Colette replied with a sip. “Mmm, I'll let you know it was worth the wait.”

“My pleasure… And for you, Sire?” Merlin asked, eyes catching side of Arthur's panicked expression. “Sire?”

“Y-yes, thank you.”

Merlin proceded to pour.

“Ansel!” Uther called with the wave of his finger; a man Merlin had seen many times came quickly, rushing to his side. He bent to the king’s level, eyes dropping to the ground.

“How can I be of service, my Lord?”

“My son and the Lady Colette would like to dance,”the King said probably, practically loud enough to be an announcement.

“I think it’s time we liven the festivities.”

“Right away, Sire,” Ansel said, disappearing into the crowd.

Surfacing near the minstrels, he directed them with the snapping of his fingers; the starting chords of a lute beginning to play. As the recorders began to bounce- blending in with the belting of bagpipes, the atmosphere in the room saw a visible change. Where people once talked amongst themselves, keeping their laughing to a minimum, they were now outwardly cheering. Suitors took their conquests by hand while fair maidens filled the ballroom floor. Camelot had once again come alive before they're very eyes and if Merlin wasn’t too stunned to speak, he would have found it rather magical. Turning to the Lady Colette, Uther tipped his brow.

“Does that suit the Lady’s need?”

“It does indeed,” Colette beamed from ear to ear. Turning to face Arthur, she rested her chin on her hands, fingers interlaced with whimsy. “…Perfect for a dance, is it not?”

Arthur blinked, bewildered.

“I suppose so.”

“So, what’ll it be?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

Arthur was cornered.

Surrounded on all sides, he could feel the pressure of the lady Colette, his father and Lord Edborn pinching him to no end with the steady gaze of a few onlookers watching from afar. All while Merlin burned holes into the back of his skull… God, he couldn't bear to see the look on his face. It would probably be filled with disappointment or maybe a mix of anger and disgust… but nothing- Arthur knew, came close to the look of slow building vexation on his father's face. 

In an instant, Arthur made a decision. Clearing his throat, he stood, reaching for the Lady’s hand.

“A dance it is then.”

As the lady stood with a smile, Arthur couldn't tell if the ringing in his ears came from the brutish cheers of his fellow knights or the unfamiliar touch of her hand in his. Following the prince's lead, the Lady Colette crusty to his bow. Stepping in time with the music, she offered a choreographed jump, flaring the ends of her dress. Ever the gentleman, Arthur played his part, trotting a circle around her stance before reclaiming her hand. As Colette passed underneath his arm, her touch trailed across his shoulders, all while Merlin tried his best to keep his knees from giving away.

~/~/~

By the third song, the minstrels had slowed to a rather intimate tune. Beginning with a romantic solo of the harp, a couple of lutes and the melodic hum of the hurdy-gurdy soon joined in; Arthur and the Lady Colette taking their last stance. 

 Colette’s voice was distant in Arthur's ear as she spoke, “Is there somewhere else you’d rather be?”

“What would make you say that?”

“Because your focus seems to be elsewhere,” Colette added. Changing positions, her smile faded, finding Arthur’s eyes flickering to the crowd. “… Like now, for example.”

Arthur’s head turned on a swivel. Dropping his eyes to meet Colette's, he cleared his throat.

“In fact, you’ve seemed to be a bit distracted all night. I must admit, I’m starting to feel a little left out.”

“I can assure you Colette, that was not my intention… My apologies.”

The Lady Collette looked at Prince Arthur with curiosity. 

“Well,” she said, brow raised with an idea. “I suppose I can accept your apology…that is under one condition.”

“Condition?”

“Mhmm.”

“And what might that condition be?”

Collette smiled. 

“Would you care to share why you've been so absent-minded? I’ll have you know my listening skills are just as good as my swordsmanship; and my advice is very sound, if I do say so myself.”

Arthur chuckled with a smirk.

“I appreciate the offer Colette, but that wouldn’t be necessary. There's no need to burden you with such things.”

Spinning on the balls of her feet, the room ran around Colette with a blur. Candlelight whizzed through the air like lightning, the faces of Camelot smearing into nothingness- all except one. Spotting a pair of blue eyes lost in the crowd, the world became clearer. 

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your servant, now would it?”

Arthur froze.

Stumbling with his words, he struggled to speak- Colette saving him the trouble as she continued.

“Every chance you get you search for him with your eyes…and much like our fathers, since asking you to dance, his eyes have yet to leave us- though something tells me I’m not the one he’s watching.”

Arthur’s heart dropped. Since returning from their errands just before nightfall, the prince's concentration had indeed been scattered to say the least. Images of Merlin smile filled his thoughts, The phantom feel of his lips making him blush at the most inconvenient of times. He had tried so hard not to wear his heart on his sleeve, but with Merlin, emotions seemed easier to come by. They weren't something he had to guard or sugarcoat- at least not with Merlin, himself; but with the rest of the world Arthur wasn't so sure. He didn't want to put Merlin at risk, after all, Arthur knew the consequences would be too grave to handle…

Interrupting his thoughts, Colette's voice rang rather chipper in his ear. 

 “Did you two have a falling out?”

“… Don't be ridiculous,” Arthur said, overcompensating. Blowing a breath passed his lips, he straightened his back. “I would never have a ‘falling out’ with a servant.”

“And why not?”

“Well, if a servant disagrees with my orders, they can seek employment elsewhere.”

Colette frowned.

“Oh please Arthur, don't be so rash. I can almost guarantee, you  and Merlin have had disagreements and yet he’s still here, is he not? After all, the relationship between a servant and his Sire is one of the most vulnerable and trusting relationships there are… It's just like a Lady and her handmaiden;  they confide in each other, showing one another their true selves- even share secrets on occasion. ”

“Merlin and I don’t share secrets.”

“… But you do share a bond, that much is clear.”

The blonde didn't know how to respond. Holding his tongue, he swallowed to keep from panicking.

“So, if it wasn’t a falling out, what was it then, hmm? Did he not wash your socks properly?” Colette asked for the sarcastic pout and batting eyelashes. “Or maybe he forgot to warm your sheets before tucking you into bed?”

“Colette, there was no falling out,” Arthur replied, rolling his eyes.

“Fine,” Colette smiled, catching wind of the minstrels’ mid-song solo. Swing to the strum of a harp, she noticed Arthur's weary sigh over her shoulder; speaking in a calmer tone, she turned her eyes toward Merlin's. 

“I suppose there is something rather alluring about him, wouldn't you say…? Something magnetic about the way your eyes find him in a crowd.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, focus splitting yet again.

“Well,” Colette poked. “I've only known him for less than a handful of hours, but it's clear to me now why you keep him around.”

Arthur frowned, Lady Colette pressing on.

“He seems like quite the charmer, is all. After all, he presents himself as rather gentle and maybe even passive giving the circumstance, but his eyes; his eyes tell a different story… It's also in the way he stands when no one’s looking- when he doesn't have to pretend anymore. I don’t know…

Underneath it all, he just seems brave.”

“He is,” Arthur smiled. It was as if something came over him. One moment Arthur was a fortress- stripped and rigid with the words that came out of his mouth, but now he couldn't stop the floodgates. “Of all the men I've met in my time, Merlin is one of the bravest. He's also loyal and courageous- even lies in some of the most unfounded of times; it's refreshing…”

Smiling, Colette filled with a genuine sense of happiness seeing a glint in Arthur's eye. 

“It sounds like he's a true friend.”

“He is,” Arthur agreed. “He can be a pain in the ass at times, but nonetheless, he is.”

Seizing the opportunity, Colette teased Arthur with her words.

“Well, if he ever becomes too much of a pain, you can send him to Eldorwyn; I'm sure my court would find use of him.”

Are there chuckled, end of jealousy catching in his throat. He knew Colette was testing him- pushing his buttons every chance she got; but he had to keep his composure.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“And why not?” she asked, with a raised brow to match her tone.

“Because Merlin is not going anywhere; he's fine where he is.”

“And where is that exactly, under your thumb?”

“By my side where he belongs!” Arthur hissed matter-of-factly.

With the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks, the prince's cheeks ran hot. Face dropping the moment the words left his lips, he knew he had been caught.

“Aha!” Colette smiled, finger pointing accusatory. “So that’s what this is about…”

“You know, I'm starting to remember just how much of a pain you were,” Arthur bit annoyingly. 

“And how much I still am , so no more beating around the bush. Tell me more about this situation with Merlin,” Colette stomped.

“There is no situation,” Arthur huffed. “…At least, I don’t think .”

“Well, you need to find out. Go talk to him,” Colette replied, nudging his arm.

If it weren't for the churning of confusion tumbling in his stomach, Arthur would have been beat red. After all, a Lady such as Colette's stature seeing shoving the prince of Camelot doesn't exactly reflect manners of nobility. With surrounding faces murmuring amongst themselves, Arthur cleared his throat. Pulling her in for a spin, she followed suit, a curtsy restoring her reputation.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “So… Have you already talked to him?”

“I have. We talked earlier today, actually.”

“So… What happened?”

“Nothing much really, we just… moved past it.”

“Oh really? So staring at each other all night like a couple of lost puppies is progress then…?

Look Arthur, you two need to stop playing about like a bunch of children and get to the bottom of this.”

“Oh Colette, just leave it be,” Arthur groaned. “There’s nothing to get to the bottom of because it doesn’t matter; it can't matter.”

“And why can’t it?”

“Because he’s a servant,” Arthur admitted, with a shaking to his breath. 

To be quite honest, Arthur felt rather queasy. A bit sick to his stomach, his eyes started around the room for any signs of prying eyes catching sight of the confession sweating from his skin. Turing his back on the king's table, he shied away from his father's spies- if you local lip readers and eavesdroppers sure to be not too far behind. Taking the hint, Colette rested her arms along Arthur's shoulders; their conversation now as private as a royals could be. Arthur continued.  

“The worlds of a servant and prince clash like oil and water; they aren't destined to mix… It’ll only end in heartbreak. ”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience… What happened, if you don't mind me asking?”

Arthur sighed.

“She grew tired of waiting… I tried, but for the life of me I couldn't make a decision.”

“Of rarher or not you loved her?”

“Rather or not she was worth the risk…”

Colette nodded. Taking a minute to think, she soon rested on one final question. 

“Was she?”

“I used to think she was, but apparently when it mattered… I don't know. 

Anyway, what does it matter now? That was a lifetime ago and besides, she's moved on. She’s with the good man now- a brave and honorable man; someone who can show her the love she deserves.” 

“Just because she's found love elsewhere, doesn't mean you don't deserve to find one of your own.”

Arthur didn't know what to say. Soaking it all in, all he could do was listen. 

“Arthur, I know my ideals can seem a bit forceful at times but I assure you my intentions are in the right place. And yes, I am aware that despite our adventures as children, we are practically strangers, but I'd like to give you a bit of advice if that’s all right?”

Arthur paused, the Lady Colette’s consenting approach easing his nerves.

He nodded. 

“When I was 19, my mother died… She never quite regained her mental state after giving birth to my brother and in all honesty it was nothing more than a matter of time. Anyway, before her passing my father was building an allied ship with France and had planned to send me there in a few years time to help strengthen that bond by courting one of the king's sons.”

“An arranged marriage?”

“What, did you think this was my first time being passed off as part of a treaty plan?”

“Well, I…”

Arthur looked down, cat catching his tongue.

“It’s fine Arthur, really. Despite what most Lady’s my age are taught, I was looking forward to it. My parents’ marriage was arranged and they lived happily together for 20 years. I had grown up with the understanding that even when things don't go as planned there's always a silver lining, so I was hopeful. But shortly after, my mother passed and my father shipped me off earlier than planned… I think he knew his grief would be too great to want anyone around.

Anyway, the King of France was eager to accept my premature arrival but I quickly discovered his son was not. To be fair, he had little interest in the arrangement- already having more invested in his relationship with his stable hand, but needless to say that ship had sailed. I spent my first year there learning the language and immersing myself in the culture, not to mention grieve my mother’s death healthily with the likes of a newly found religion.”

“I'm sorry you had to go through that alone,”Arthur swallowed.

“Well, I wasn't completely alone. My brother was sent to France as well, but he spent most of his days buried in his school books. I would see him on holidays and during rare occasions for the king, but other than that I entertained myself; well, that is until I met a soldier by the name of Amié…”

Colette smiled, a chuckle bursting from her chest.

“I mean, of all the people I used to imagine myself falling in love with as a child, a soldier was not one of them. As you know, I myself wanted to be a knight or a shield maiden like in the Nordic Days- graceful yet powerful, strong yet beautiful. And in my mind, those who called themselves soldiers were nothing more than brutes; but Amié… Amié defied everything I thought a soldier could be.

They were brutally honest yet always thoughtful, a bit coarse at times though simultaneously gentle; and somehow they managed to be the perfect blend of masculinity and femininity the label assigned at birth never mattered…

You know, during the rainy months when the castle yard would flood up to our knees, Amié and I would spend the day in the castle's library. And oh god, it was so stuffy in there; always smelling like curd from the kitchen down the hall but Amié never cared. No, Amié would go on and on about the books they'd read and the poetry they wanted to write and I never once grew tired of listening. Of course, we knew our time was limited- my father could not be kept in the dark of the prince’s lack of interest for me forever and there were rumors of Amié’s infantry shipping off in a few weeks time, but none of that mattered. We’d often fantasize about running away together to the other side of the world, because at least over there our titles wouldn't matter… Nowadays, when it rains I miss that library more than ever.”

Colette wiped the tear from her eye, knuckles keeping the powder from her blush from smearing. 

“My point is Arthur, my mother was right. There was a silver lining going to France, just not one I was expecting. Who knows, you may have had dreams of running off with this woman of your past and sadly things did not go as planned, but that doesn't mean you won't find love elsewhere…

I'll let you in on a little secret. When my father first told me you were my next contender for marriage, I was excited. Leaving behind the life I had created for myself in France was hard, but given our previous history I was hopeful you could somehow feel that void.

I know now that was wrong of me to do and I should never have put that burden on you in the first place.”

“Well, thank you Colette,” Arthur replied.

“Oh please, you're the one who should be getting gratitude. Thanks to you being here, you've  reminded me that one should marry for love- not in the hopes of creating it… Sometime after leaving France or perhaps before that when my mother passed, I had forgotten that.

Besides, it seems to me that you already have that connection with someone else.”

Arthur chuckled, endearingly. 

“It's funny, Merlin once told me the same thing.”

“Then he’s an even better man than I thought,” Colette smiled.

Nodding, Arthur took a breath- weight on his shoulders melting away.

“Thank you, Colette.”

“Of course. Now, if you would be so kind as to bow like the gentleman you are and escort me back to the table? The main course just arrived and I haven't eaten since breakfast.”

Arthur smiled, offering a textbook bow to Colette's curtsy. 

“Before we do, I’d like to give you a piece of advice myself, if you don't mind?”

“Sure.”

“Promise me you’ll go back to France.”

Colette stopped in her tracks. Taking in a heavy breath, she frowned at Arthur with curiosity.

“If your love story is as great as it sounds, you owe yourself a second chance.”

“Well,” Colette sighed, fixing the bracelet around her wrist. “I did hear that King Philip’s infantry returned to France last winter… Perhaps, that will give my father something to talk about on the way home tomorrow.” 

“It’s settled then.”

“Only if you promise to send letters with an update on how things went,” Colete said, finger pointing at Arthur knowingly.

“I do,” Arthur laughed, earning a smile from the Lady. “…Colette, it's been a pleasure.”

“I can happily say the same.”

Soon, the Lady took Athur’s hand before making their way up the platform steps. Standing, the Lord Edborn awaited their arrival.

“I hope all went well?” he asked, the jewels of his crown glimmering as he raised his brows. 

“It did. Arthur was a true gentleman.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

“So am I,” King Uther replied, chiming in with a laugh. Cutting into his fowl, he passed Arthur a glance. “Sit, son; enjoy the festivities.”

“There's much to celebrate.”

“Indeed.”

“Actually,” Arthur began, words trailing off somewhere into the crowd. His steady growing confidence had already started to deplete, the looming cloud of his father's disapproval turning him grey. Spotting Colette’s pinched lips, she encouraged him with a tilt of her head.

Arthur nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Father?”

“Yes?” Uther said, eyes locked onto his meal. 

“If you, the lady Colette and Lord Edborn would forgive me, I would like to retire to my chambers a bit early this evening.”

“And why is that?”

“It seems I'm not feeling well. I think I may have come down with something.”

“That's a shame,” Lord Edborn said in between bites. “You won't be seeing the Lady Antoinette’s performance. I hear she’s quite the singer.”

“As do I, but unfortunately, I think my body is still adjusting from our latest travels.”

“To the Caledonia Forest? King Uther was telling me… Tell me, are the mountains as treacherous this time of year as they say?”

“Yes sir, they are,” Arthur nodded.

“Oh, I’m sure. My late wife, Isadora, was from Caledonia and we ventured to those parts once or twice many years ago, but that was back when I was much fitter,” he laughed, huskily. “And even then that was quite the journey; I can't imagine the toll such rough winds can do to the body after four nights.”

“Perhaps this afternoon’s ride through the woods offered no favors either,” Uther replied with a seething glare.

“Oh never mind that, King Uther, all is well,” Lord Edborn replied, eventually facing Arthur with a reassured look. “As my Isadora used to say, ‘There is much healing in a good day’s rest.’ ”

“She sounds wise,” Arthur nodded. “Colette told me so much about her, my condolences.”

“Ahh, thank you… Sometimes a lifetime ago and yesterday are all the same.”

Colette took hold of her father’s hand; the Lord kissing her endearingly.

“If you wish to be excused, it is no hindrance to me.”

“Thank you, Lord Edborn,” Arthur bowed.

“Nor I,” Colette chimed in.

Hesitant of his father's cranking thoughts, Arthur offered him a glance.

“… Well, if you insist,” Uther replied, stealing a piece of bird with his fork before wiping his mouth. “I’ll send for Gaius to examine you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Arthur replied, practically jumping at the chance. Keeping his excitement in check, he carefully cleared his throat. “Merlin will accompany me.”

Often from his position behind the king's table, Merlin had heard his fair share of rumor and gossip. His ears were fine-tuned for the whispers of kings, queens and their noblemen- but nothing grabbed his attention more than the sound of his own name passing Arthur's lips. With a straight back, he crossed his hands at his lap, ready for whatever the prince needed of him. 

“Very well then,” Uther replied with a wave of his wrist. “I’ll have dinner brought to you shortly.”

Arthur bowed, lip caught between his teeth.

“Lord Edborn, Lady Colette, it's been a pleasure; now if you'll excuse me…”

“Of course,” Lord Edborn said, giving the prince a half-hearted nod. Colette on the other hand passed him a small smile. 

Shuffling past his servant, Arthur spared him a glance. 

“Merlin.”

Taking his cue, Merlin followed suit. Truth be told he’d follow Arthur to the ends of the Earth if he asked him to, though for now, he supposed down the castle Halls would have to suffice.

~/~/~

Despite the disappointment Camelot may bring him on some days, there was one thing about the kingdom that would always baffle Merlin until the end of his days. It was the contrast between day and night. 

Merlin loved the way Camelot came to life. 

How the morning stirs of the neighborhood livestock sanctioned the early risers out of their beds. He adored the smells in the air just before sunrise, the way the streets filled with the scent of baked bread and breakfast eggs while the castle halls radiated with the fresh starch of the chambermaids aprons. The shouts of Market Merchants and Royal Advisors often melted together. Belting just afternoon and well into the evening, it wasn't until the sun began to set did the kingdom finally rest. 

Usually, the world grew so still a pin drop could be heard bouncing off the cobbled streets; even the occasional clank of the water well could be heard throughout the castle halls. And under the blanket of night, there was always an eerie quiet to Camelot. Kind of like now…

There was a slow growing silence between Merlin and Arthur. Eroding by the minute, the distance between them only stretched. Perhaps Arthur wasn't feeling well? After all, Arthur would normally be barking orders to Merlin in an effort to make his rest be more peaceful, yet the prince hadn't said a single peep since leaving the Great Hall. Jesus, the stillness was driving Merlin mad. He had grown tired of listening to their footsteps click up the stairs and scuff along the polished floors; he needed to do something, anything to keep him from crawling out of his skin. 

Clearing his throat, Merlin pulled at his scarf.

“Is everything all right, Sire?”

“Everything’s fine,” Arthur replied quickly.

Merlin frowned.

“So you're not sick then…?”

“Not at all.”

Now Merlin was more confused than ever. Sure, Arthur had lied- the excuse of being sick one of many used to escape such a dreadful occasion. But Merlin had noticed the look of dread on his face from across the room- the way he’d flash a fake smile whenever Lord Edborn made such terrible jokes, it was the way he constantly adjusted himself in his chair; the harsh cut of such fine oak taking a toll on his rear. Or perhaps Merlin had got it all wrong? Perhaps his want to flee was all on the fault of the Lady Colette? After all, Merlin himself grew tired of her bright disposition quite quickly. The way she clung to him like old friends the moment he assisted her out of her carriage. How chipperly she gossiped, asking Merlin a thousand and one questions about the prince and all of his quirks; how oblivious she was to his jealousy as he answered them as best he could. 

Oh, Merlin absolutely hated it…

He thought he and Arthur were making progress. After their conversation this morning and their trip to the forest, Merlin had been hopeful; but it was clear to him now that was foolish. The way Arthur and the Lady Colette smiled while dancing had filled Merlin with doubt- the sinking feeling he felt never going away. Reaching the top of the stairs, Merlin spoke, hands tucked deep into his pockets. 

“So… you and the Lady Colette seem to get on quite well.”

“We played together as children,” Arthur replied.

“Ahh,” Merlin remarked with an irritated tilt of the head. Fingers scratching at the length of his pockets, he continued. “…Well, that's just fantastic. ”

Merlin swallowed. 

“I uhh, I had the pleasure of showing her to her chambers when the Edborns first arrived and she seemed rather kind- which is refreshing; you know, very… level-headed. ”

“She is.”

“Then that’s a good thing,” Merlin nodded with a stammer.

Arthur furrowed his brows, rounding the corridor, “I suppose…”

“Don't be silly, Arthur- of course it is. After all, what sane prince would want an ungrateful brat for a wife?”

Oh, so that's what this was about… Arthur had found Merlin's sudden interest in Colette a bit odd to say the least, but as soon as the word slip from his mouth Arthur new. Without turning around he could practically feel the green jealousy leaking from his servant's ears.

“I’m not marrying her, Merlin.”

“Not yet, anyway. The wedding isn't for a couple months so there's still time to get to know each other. 

Plus, when you think about it a lot can change between childhood and adulthood. Her manners seem fairly intact but what are her morals like now that she’s older; what about your morals, as well? I mean honestly, there’s much to discover about her just as there is about you .”

“Merlin!” Arthur interrupted.

Stopping in his tracks, Merlin nearly stumbled into the back of him. The prince turned on his heels, eyes locking with his servant- a slightly sad pair of blue eyes staring back. Sighing softly, Arthur ran his fingers through his hair.

“I’m not marrying the Lady Colette.”

“Why not, she seemed nice enough?”

“I don't want to marry her, Merlin. Besides, she's already involved with someone else.”

“Oh… well, I'm sure there will be others,” Merlin replied, patting Arthur on the arm.

Arthur stood puzzled. Had Merlin always been this clueless? Sure, he had his moments but he couldn't be that dimwitted; could he? No- perhaps he was only pretending.

“It's a shame though,” Merlin sighed rather convincingly. Stepping around Arthur, he continued on. “From where I stood, you two seemed to hit it off.”

Shaking his head, Arthur couldn't take it anymore. 

“That’s because we were talking about you , Merlin!”

Pausing, Merlin blinked.

“Why would you two be talking about me?”

Arthur huffed through his nose, a silent breath echoing off the halls. Suddenly, he became aware of where they were. Standing in the middle of the corridors, the halls and their archways framed them perfectly; the castle's main stairs leading right to them. No, a place like this was not ideal for such a well needed conversation. They were too out in the open- too susceptible to God knows who could be lurking around the corner. Grabbing a hold of Merlin’s arm, Arthur ducked down a side hall littered with jut-outs of statues and built-in shelves.

“Merlin, she knows,” he whispered.

“Knows? What do you mean, she knows?”

“For God's sake Merlin, keep up. Colette knows… Colette knows about us.”

At that moment, Merlin turned pale. Mind filling with a thousand and one thoughts he struggled to find words as they flew by. 

“I- I swear Arthur I haven’t told her anything… at least I don't think; I barely even spoke to her honestly. I-.”

“Merlin, it's okay,” Arthur reassured him with a hand on his shoulder. “I know you didn't tell her. She found out on her own; saw us, actually.”

“In the forest?!”

“No, that would be ridiculous. What on Earth would she be doing out there?” Arthur laughed. “No, she saw the way we kept staring at each other during the dinner.”

Merlin dropped his head in doubt. With regret filling his stomach, he wiped his forehead; panicked eyes darting around the hall.

“I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to letting you go with me earlier today; I knew it,” he shook his head. “But I went against my better judgment and now look at us.”

“Better judgment…? What on earth are you talking about, Merlin? Did you not just hear what I said? She didn’t see us in the forest- no one did. It’s impossible, we were in the middle of nowhere for Christ’s sake.”

“But you don’t know that,” Merlin replied. “You can’t possibly have known that. Anyone could have followed us out there or seen us returning. Besides, the way we looked at each other after that was different- anyone with eyes would have noticed.”

“Take a breath, Merlin,” Arthur smirked. Gently, he rubbed Merlin’s wrist with his thumb.

It was an odd time to get butterflies in his stomach, but Arthur couldn’t help it; he liked the way Merlin looked when he grew nervous. His servant’s ears would flush with a tint of red when he got flustered, the various blues of his people sparkling more than usual when they darted about. Patiently, Arthur waited for the nibbling of his lip- a series of precious ramblings sure to follow. 

As Merlin tucked his lip between his teeth, Arthur held back a smile. 

“… I knew today was a mistake.”

In an instant, Arthur’s face dropped. Well that was neither precious nor expected; it was gut-wrenching. With one single word, Merlin had said Arthur back 10 paces. Confirming his initial suspicions, Arthur once again felt how he did when the morning first began. The pit in his stomach that did nothing but widen had a return to swallow him whole. God, Arthur hated the effects of regret. Facing the feeling first hand- he could deal with his own, but seeing others around him colored in that a very emotion because of him is what he hated the most. First his Father, and then Guinevere; it took time to heal those wounds. Weeks and months of useless thoughts and unjustified doubt all to produce a more damaged version of himself. But now that Merlin regretted him, Arthur knew he wouldn't recover. There would be no coming back from this- no absolution, no redemption; just despair.

Swallowing, Arthur spoke dryly.

“Tell me you don’t mean that,” he pleaded.

“Look at where we are, Arthur,” Merlin shouted in a whisper. “Look at where we ended up! Stealing glances at dinner and secret meetings in the castle corridors…. We wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for our little fling in the forest.”

Arthur clenched his fists, trying his best not to fall apart.

“Was that all it was to you, just some fling?”

Merlin noticed a break in Arthur's voice; he winced at the realization.

“Arthur, that's not-,” he began, the prince interjecting quickly.

“Because that's not what this was for me.”

“I know, Arthur. I… That’s not what I meant, I'm sorry.”

“Then state what you mean plainly .”

Oh, boy, Arthur wasn't happy, not in the slightest.

His brows were bent, the tone in his voice reminding Merlin of when he got defensive and boisterous… He was defensive and rightfully so; Merlin had just hit Arthur where it hurt and he regretted every bit of it. Collecting his thoughts, Merlin sighed.

“… Today wasn't a mistake, Arthur. You are right, I shouldn't have said it was.”

“Are you sure about that?” Arthur asked, shifting his weight.

“Yes, I'm sure,” the servant said, retreating further into the outcove, bringing the blonde right along with him. “It wasn't a mistake Arthur. None of what happened yesterday or today was either.”

“Then why did you say it?”

“I overreacted,” Merlin admitted. “You said it yourself, I'm no good at keeping secrets. I mean, look at me, I'm a complete mess as it is. Soon, I'll start running around like some love struck idiot, and we'll both be walking the gallows.”

Arthur chuckled; a feeling of butterflies rattling his stomach. He looked to the ground with embarrassment.

“I wouldn't worry too much about that,” he smiled. “All you need is a little practice.”

“And what good would that do?” Merlin shrugged. “All I’ve done since we’ve returned is ogle at you… I can't think straight, I talk utter nonsense; I feel absolutely childish.”

“Well,” Arthur said, taking a deep breath. “You should know… the feeling is mutual.”

Catching sight of Arthur's smirk, Merlin nearly crawled out of his skin- fingers running through his hair.

“See! That’s what I mean,” he pointed. “I can't pretend things like that don’t get to me. Seriously Arthur, today it’s the Lady Colette, but tomorrow it could be the chambermaid or the cook… I mean, what if word gets back to the king?”

Though Arthur didn't want to admit it, his heart stopped at the thought.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, Merlin.”

“Is it really jumping to conclusions if it’s plausible? Let's be serious for a moment here, you and I both know, rumors spread around the castle all the time. And quite frankly, I think whispers of a romance between the future King of Camelot and his servant would set some sort of castle record, don't you? And if somehow it does get to the king's ear what chance do we have then? Arthur, you said it yourself, your father would never stand for such a thing. At best, he’d strip me of my post and ban me from Camelot- probably forbidding you from ever seeing me again. So, what would you do then? Defy your king and renounce your crown; no, I don’t think so,” Merlin huffed.

Now leaning against the wall, Arthur stared at Merlin intently.

“If it meant never seeing you again, I’d consider it.”

“Oh, don't be ridiculous,” Merlin waved. “Why would this time be different?”

Ouch! Arthur winced. Merlin had once again reminded him that Colette had been right; maybe this matter wasn't as settled as he had thought.

Along with his other low points and ill regarded feelings, Arthur had forgotten just how present his servant had been for the dumpster fire that was he and Guinevere's relationship. He was there for it all; from a secret pining and gratuitous jealousy right down to the confessional kiss… and look how well that turned out. Maybe Merlin was right to doubt him. Back then, Arthur had wasted weeks, months weighing the pros and cons of running off with Guinevere in the sunset until it was too late. And in the blink of an eye he had lost his love and even a piece of himself; he couldn't lose Merlin as well- not on account of his idle hands and stiff knees. Wanting Merlin to know things would be different, Arthur was eager to take action.

“Things would be different Merlin, I promise. I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“But that’s just it Arthur, we’ve barely started; we’re not too far invested. If we stop this before it starts, the day when you have to choose between me or Camelot would never come.”

“Merlin, I would never abandon you.”

“And this way you don’t have to,” Merlin nodded, self-soothing his speculation. Pausing for a moment, he breathed. “If we're being realistic, we’ve spent the entire day daydreaming about our hypothetical lives, but have you once taken the time to wonder if that's all this should ever be? I mean, imagine us staying as we are- right here and now. I’d remain by your side as your servant where I get to watch you become the great king I know you can be…”

Filled with a bout of grief, Merlin swallowed, struggling to speak.

“And on the days we may get… sentimental- well; we’ll always have the farm, right?”

Arthur smirked.

“I never knew you could be so poetic, Merlin.”

Staring into the distance, Merlin fought the urge to look anywhere else but Arthur’s eyes. Pinching his lips, he passed a steer of nonchalant the prince's way. “Well… Maybe there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Is that so?” Arthur asked pushing off the wall. 

“Perhaps.”

Staring at the ceiling, Arthur shuffled toward Merlin with slow steps. He hummed, knowingly.

“I know that you, Merlin , are the most courageous man I’ve met. I know that you often put other people’s needs above your own without giving them a second thought- which is exactly what you’re doing now, by the way. And though I normally find it admirable, in this instance, I find it quite frustrating considering the fact that you’d rather throw your own happiness away than see other’s not live theirs.

… I also know that your wisdom is some of the most profound poetry I’ve ever heard and your loyalty knows no bounds. I know that asinine wit you call a sense of humor is just as sharp as any knight’s sword; and though I don’t say this enough, until a few months ago, I truly appreciated being able to call you one of my greatest friends.”

“What happened a few months ago?”

“That was when I began seeing you as more…”

Eyes giving away his excitement, Merlin nodded before taking a deep breath; letting out one of his own, Arthur continued.

“Merlin, to be completely honest with you, the reasons I feel the way I feel about you still puzzle me- hell, you still puzzle me. You have since the day you walked into Camelot and probably always will. But if there is one thing I am sure of, it’s that I don’t want to spend another day wasted on what ifs- because I’ve done enough of that already… And despite last night’s whim, I assure you my intentions are honorable. And I speak truthfully when I say I want to give us a try, Merlin; a genuine college try… Is that not what you want?”

“I’d like that very much, actually,” Merlin chuckled, a lump catching in his throat.

“Then why are you hesitating?”

“Because who wouldn't?!”Merlin exclaimed. Still picking at his nails, he wiped the worry from his brows.

“Arthur, Camelot wasn’t made for people like you and me to be together.”

“Oh Merlin, for Christ's sake, would you just-.”

“I know, I know. Just listen to me Arthur, please.”

Arthur took a breath. 

“Think about your nobility. A servant on the arm of a prince is like a smudge on the Pendragon crest. It’s practically been etched in stone longer than the outlaw of magic… I mean, think of the challenges- according to the laws of Camelot, people with magic are deemed as outcasts meant to be put to death. They don’t get to live in peace; instead they have to spend their lives hiding from the very world they were born in.

Those are the rules, Arthur; ‘the sacred ways’ still being shouted from the very hill they intend to die on, so what makes you think we’re any different? What makes you think I would ever be seen as anything more than ‘the help’ ?”

“Oh, you’re not ‘the help’ Merlin, please- forget the rules,” Arthur waved. “Besides, I’m not asking for your hand in marriage… And last I checked, doesn’t require the kingdom’s permission.”

“What about the other challenges?” Merlin softened with a raise of his brow. “Take the night for example, as an above average looking man like yourself, I'm sure there will be other dinners. More Ladies with their dowries and wandering eyes fighting for your attention.”

“Well, Merlin,” the prince said with a smile. “No matter how average looking I am, there may always be other eyes, but the only one’s that matter are yours.”

Merlin blushed a bit. Shaking it off he fired his quip quickly from the hip. 

“Hmm, that was actually pretty good; Did you write that one yourself?”

Arthur dropped his head with a laugh.

God, he was absolutely smitten- and with Merlin of all people. Oh, if his younger self could see him now. He'd probably have a heart attack- a restless pacing and suffocating arrogance causing him to hemorrhage. Then again, his younger self would never have been worthy of someone like Merlin, and yet here he stood. Smiling from ear to ear, Arthur dipped to find Merlin's eyes.

“I promise, Merlin, you are well worth the risk.”

For reasons unbeknownst to him, Merlin believed Arthur. Perhaps it was the look inArthur's eye that convinced him or maybe he was just tired of arguing- but the fact still remained that Merlin believed him. Surging with a sense of hope and an overwhelming feeling of joy, Merlin did the unexpected. Rushing forward, he took Arthur by storm, head tilting up in the slightest with a kiss. Needless to say, the prince's knees nearly went weak. And God, did he think his lucky stars for the wall behind his back. Bracing himself with a hand against the brick, he leaned into Merlin gently, his other hand sneaking around his waist .

Oh, there was no better place Merlin would rather be than here; hanging over Arthur’s shoulders, hands tangling in his hair.  

Slowly, Arthur's kiss found its way to his neck; strolling down his jaw with care. Hissing at the touch of his lips, Arthur distracted him rather coyly, fingers raising the hem of Merlin's shirt. Deliciously, he palmed his sides, trailing them down his hips and round the small of his back. 

“Arthur…” Merlin breathed in a tone the blonde hadn't quite heard before. It was soft and subtle, unlike Merlin's usual way of saying his name- which was so brash and badgering; this time it was delicate…

 Working his way back up to his mouth, he looked at his lips wanting to savor every minute of it. 

Soon, the two pulled away, coming up for some well needed air. They're ragged breaths were damp against each other's lips, knowing smiles not too far from drop dead gorgeous. Thumbing at his lip, Arthur cleared his throat.

“Would you like to-,” he began, pausing at the sound of bellowing laughter echoing around the hall. 

Both men paused. As a series of hushes and whispers grew near, Arthur's feet found a purpose. Pulling Merlin into the shadows, they watched over the shoulders of a concrete night, his stone-made cape giving them cover. Endlessly, they waited for the footsteps to shuffle down the stairs taking their drunkenness with them. Merlin was the first to speak, his magical insights telling him the coast was clear. 

“Well,” he breathed, “That was close.”

“A little too close,” Arthur agreed.

Merlin swallowed, “… You were saying?”

“Hmm?”

“Earlier, before the noise, you were going to say something.”

For a moment, Arthur looked puzzled- the act of almost getting caught knocking a little sooner than expected, but once the nervousness and his brain melted away, the light bulb was clear. 

“Right… I uh,”he said, clearing his throat. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go somewhere a little less frequented?”

Merlin's eyebrows flew above his head, “Less frequented?”

“Well, you know, someplace else that's not so open to the rest of tonight's guests,” Arthur fumbled. “Only if you'd like to, of course; there's no pressure or anything…”

Merlin chuckled with a smirk, “And what happened to those honorable intentions you mentioned earlier?”

“I can assure you they are still there.”

“Mhmm,” Merlin nodded, stepping out into the open. With his hands behind his back, he glanced at Arthur over his shoulder. “Sure they are.”

“I beg your pardon!” Arthur said with the start. Stepping after Merlin, he stopped on his heels, blocking him with crossed arms. 

“You heard me,” Merlin said matter of factly.

Arthur blinked.

“Well… what about your intentions?” he fumbled, shooting himself in the foot. 

Sparing him a glance, Merlin shook his head- a rather cheeky smile spread across his face. 

“Oh, I never said anything about my intentions,” he replied, voice a little deeper than Arthur had ever heard before. 

As his servant disappeared around the corner, Arthur felt something unfamiliar flutter in the pit of stomach; he quite liked it. After a pause, Merlin called from around the bend. 

“Are you coming or not?”

Oh, yes… He liked this a lot.

Chapter Text

The first thing Merlin sees in the morning is the view of the Castle Bell Tower on its side. 

This is a first, he thought- the color of its bronze looking gold as the sun rose . He was close enough to see its original off the reflection of a few watchmen's helmets, but not close enough for their eyes to settle on his bare chest wrapped in the warmth of Arthur's sheets… Nor the weight of Arthur's arm draped around his waist.

Up here the world was perfect, almost as perfect as last night. Feeling the steady purr of Arthur's breath against the back of his neck, Merlin thought back to the feeling of Arthur's fingers tugging at his hair. 

After miraculously making it to Arthur's room unseen, a rush of excitement ran through Merlin as he pinned the prince against the door. It rattled with a clank and a thud, but Arthur didn't seem to mind- being preoccupied with the taste of Merlin’s tongue and all. With a welcome surprise, his hands have found their way to Merlin sides though quickly testing his servant’s patience when they grew idle along the small of his back. Doing everything , yet again, Merlin took hold of Arthur's jaw allowing his left hand to warm its way up the prince's lapel. As Merlin ravished his neck, he tried his best to assist, letting his jacket fall to the floor. He wasn't ashamed to say that the next sequence of events, though pleasant in the grand scheme of things, took him by surprise. 

As Merlin's lips sucked on a rather sensitive part of Arthur's neck, he struggled to keep his knees from giving out. Stepping lightly from side to side Arthur danced, fingers gripping tightly onto Merlin's shirt. Displaying a newly revealed sense of strength, Merlin snapped Arthur's hips against his. Now straddling Merlin's knee, the prince let out a moan- the feeling of a doting erection pushing at his thigh.

“Jesus, Merlin…”

Merlin rolled his hips deliciously.

“Clearly, you've done this before.”

Coming up for air, Merlin smiled against Arthur's ear, “Well, I am full of surprises.”

Raising off the door, Arthur replied with a groan of his own.

“I don't doubt that for a second.”

Dipping down, Arthur kissed Merlin with passion. Walking them toward his bed, the prince guided Merlin with steady hands while the servant discarded his clothes one by one. Now with the prince's bedpost pressed between his shoulder blades, Arthur only watched Arthur with hooded eyes. He watched his arms flex as he raised his shirt above his head, gawked at the sight of his chest rising and falling as he tossed it to the side. Biting back a groan, he pulled Arthur in by the ties of his trousers. Rolling at the tickle of the prince's pubic hair against his fingers, he made room for Arthur's lips on his neck. 

God, this was something Merlin had only dreamed of- the sound of the elder’s breath panting heavy over his skin, but now it was reality . Now as he laid in bed at night with the coarse sheets of his mattress keeping him warm, he could pretend it were Arthur- the feeling of the blonde's heavy hands taking the place of his own. As Arthur's touch rounded the curve of his spine, they pushed past his trousers before slipping beneath the fabric. Merlin moaned as the prince gave him a squeeze.

“Oh my God, Arthur.”

Giving Merlin another squeeze, he searched for his eyes.

“You know if it's too much, I can always stop.”

Through his haze, Merlin somehow found the strength to chuckle. Looking at Arthur, he smirked. 

“Prat…”

Arthur smiled.

Giving Merlin one final squeeze, he rounded his hips carefully, thumbs resting in the divots of his pelvis; cautiously, he played with his underwear. 

“Do you mind?”Arthur asked warmly. 

“Not at all.”

With permission granted, Arthur untied Merlin's trousers in one fail swoop. Butterflies swirled in his stomach as he watched them roll down his hips, falling over the tops of his thighs- and following every step of the way was the prince’s gaze. As thet pool around his ankles, Merlin stepped out of them, goosebumps glittering his skin. 

“Did I break you already?”

Looking up, Arthur blinked with a raised brow. Standing, he sauntered over to the bench at the foot of his bed before making himself comfortable. 

“I'd like to see you try,” Arthur said, crossing his leg over his knee. 

Merlin scoffed.

Oh, he was going to love wiping that arrogance off his smug face.  

Straddling Arthur's thighs, Merlin wasted little time. Shining into his lap, he gets the blonde deeply- fingers tangled in his hair, hips rolling ever so slightly. Arthur groaned into the kiss. Readjusting in his seat, Arthur held on to Merlin's waste for dear life; glancing down between them, he watched as Merlin's bulge brushed against his stomach. 

“Jesus Merlin.”

Merlin chuckled darkly, “God that's amazing.”

“You can say that again,” Arthur added, head rolling back with his eyes. “Remind me again why we haven't done this sooner.”

“Because you were so dimwitted and couldn't see what was right in front of you.”

“Well, I can say the same for you then,” Arthur smiled.

“I suppose you can.”

Taking a moment, the two shared a kiss that Merlin swore would make his heart stop if he let it. It was a feeling of weightlessness that made him drunk and dizzy; a feeling that left him buzzing even now. Anchoring himself in the sheets, Merlin closed his eyes, the soft sounds of snores purring in his ear. He thumbed the hairs on the prince’s arm gently.

“Why must you insist on waking me up before noon, Merlin; It's barely morning. ”

“Well, we can’t have you wasting the day away, now can we?”

“Considering the week I've had, that sounds delightful actually,” Arthur said, tightening his hold on Merlin’s waist. Nuzzling into his nape, he placed a sleepy kiss at his neck. “An extra hour or two won't hurt, wouldn't you say?”

“Actually… Some of us don’t have that luxury, I’m afraid. My boss can be a bit of a pain- hates it when I’m late.”

“Well, that's too bad,” Arthur said, shifting in bed. “You’re staying.”

Turning to face him, Merlin beamed at the gold in the prince’s eyelashes.

“Is this what you’re going to be like whenever I wake up in your bed?”

Arthur nodded with a pout; cheek squished into his pillow, “So you might as well get used to it.”

Merlin wiggled free, brushing a few strands of hair from Arthur's face. 

“Well, I suppose it's not all that bad.”

“No, it’s not,” he hummed. 

With his eyes still closed, Merlin lying tucked into his chest, Arthur was once again falling victim to sleep. Feeling the rise and fall of his breath, Merlin felt a pit of guilt rise in his stomach as he spoke.

“Arthur… Arthur.”

“What is it, Merlin?”

“As much as I want to stay here, I really do have things to do today.”

“So do I.”

“Yes, but just because your schedule starts at noon, doesn’t mean that mine does too.”

Arthur groaned, eyelids still shielding him from the sun. 

“How about I give you the day off?”

“Really?” Merlin squinted. 

“Why not? This way we can both have a day of well needed rest.” 

Silence washed over the room.

For a moment, he waited for one of Merlin’s trite comebacks or quick-witted remarks; but as the sounds of morning clatter swelled, his own breath soft and soothing, Arthur smiled and bliss. He had finally won… in reality, Merlin waited patiently. With his head propped up by the end of his elbow, he blinked. 

“You do know that me taking the day off means you're excusing me of all my duties, right…? That includes waiting on you, hand and foot. ”

Arthur's eyes shot open, Merlin smirking with the raised brow. The prince quickly shooed him away. 

“Off you go then.”

Rolling onto his back, Arthur propped his hands behind his head, eyeing Merlin as he slipped out of bed.

 “Where are you heading first, anyway?”

“My room.”

“Well, that’s productive,” he frowned.

“ I need to change…” Merlin said, rolling his eyes. “I can’t walk around in yesterday’s clothes and not expect anyone to notice.”

“Just brush some dirt on yourself and say you slept in the tavern or something.”

“And have everyone think I’m more of a drunk? No thanks,” Merlin replied, spotting his underwear at the foot of the bed.

Arthur mumbled, ogling Merlin shamelessly as he stepped into them.

“Well, with how much time you spend there they already do… So, what are you doing after?”

“Well, let’s see: tidy my room as it’s a bit of a mess, see the blacksmith about a new set of horseshoes for the tournament and- oh, finish polishing your chest plate and chainmail.”

“Didn’t you do that yesterday?”

“I was supposed to,” Merlin said, trying to discern the outside from inside seams of his shirt. “But someone wanted to spend a little extra time in the forest- so no, I did not.”

“…And what about breakfast?” Arthur frowned.

“I’ll probably just have an apple or a scone, maybe; I'm not that much of a breakfast eater anyway- makes me feel sluggish.”

Deadpanning at Merlin's grimace, Arthur cleared his throat.

“I meant my breakfast.”

“Oh, what about it?”

With his eyes wide, Arthur stressed every syllable, “…When will you be bringing it up?”

“When I find the time…” Merlin chuckled normally. “Have you ever heard of the phrase ‘a little goes a long way,’ because a simple please every now and then could do wonders.”

“And why on earth would I ever do that? I'm the prince.”

“Well since today is Thursday, the kitchen is most likely serving porridge, which means depending on your manners you could get a rather hot and fresh helping or a bowl full of burnt bits from the bottom.”

Arthur set up with a start, sheets falling around his waist, “Oh really?”

 “Mhmm.”

“Well, since we’re on the topic of manners Merlin- allow me to teach you some.”

Turning on his heels, Merlin stepped closer to the bed; finally fixing his shirt onto his shoulders, he smiled. 

“I’m all ears.”

“Have you ever heard the saying ‘discipline sharpens the mind?’ ”

“I have, but by all means Arthur, enlighten me.”

“Well, since it seems last night's events have made you forget your position, allow me to remind you. Along with that already extensive list of yours, how about you polish the rest of my armor while you're at it. Oh, and you can start with my sword.”

Catching sight of Merlin's pursed lips, Arthur felt quite proud of himself. With crossed arms, he nodded.

“You heard me.”

The last thing Arthur expected his servant to do was laugh. Dropping his head with a smile, Merlin shortened the distance between them, fingers scratching at his hair.

“Well, that shouldn’t be too hard… Especially, now that you know I’m pretty good at polishing swords; wouldn’t you say? ”

Arthur had never felt his high crash so quickly. Where his arrogance was set tall and proud, now laid a feeling of depravity. Surrounding in his stomach like sludge, an excitement brewed and bubbled on low. Curious to see what would happen if it rose to the surface, he tucked the feeling away for later, shifting the sheets to hide his slow growing erection. 

Merlin pretended not to notice.

“I suppose that was quite the hidden talent,” Arthur added, clearing his throat.

“Why, thank you,” Merlin teased.

“You know, I could have you thrown in the stocks for saying such things.”

“Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you,” Merlin groaned, inches away from Arthur's lips. 

Arthur nearly choked. 

“Jesus Christ, Merlin! Have you always been this…”

“This what?” Merlin smirked.

“This…perverted?”

Merlin laughed. Leaning in for a kiss, he whispered against his lips.

“I guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”

Arthur quite liked the sound of that- Merlin sticking around. He could get used to this, the side of Merlin that only Arthur got to see… The side of Merlin he could call his and only his- the side that could be his forever. He could practically taste it on his lips; see their future together whenever the brunette boy smiled. A part of Arthur wondered if Merlin could see the same when he looked into his eyes, but as he melted into yet another kiss all that mattered was now. 

As he traced a thumb across Merlin's cheek, a thunderous knock echoed about the room pulling them apart.

“Just a second,” Arthur called out, royal persona flipping on like a light. 

Slipping off the bed, Merlin  scrambled to collect his thoughts; with his socks in one hand, shoes in the other, he scoured the floor with a frown. 

“Now is not the time to faff about Merlin, you need to hide!”

“I'm not faffing about, I'm looking for my trousers,” Merlin shouted in a whisper. 

“Well hurry up and find them.”

“I'm trying!”

Rising on to his knees, Arthur shuffled through the sheets as he scoured the floor. Spotting a brown bundle out of the corner of his eye, Arthur pointed. 

“There.”

“What, where?”

“The door. They're by the door!”

If Arthur weren't so panicked himself, the expression on Merlin's face would have made him double over. Tripping over his own feet, Merlin scrambled for his trousers on all fours; with his socks in his mouth, he plucked the red sleeve of Arthur's jacket from the chaise.

“Merlin!” Arthur warned. 

“I'm trying,” Merlin mumbled, jumping into his pants with a start; another knock rang out from the door.

“I said, in a minute!”Arthur huffed, glancing at the door. He chucked his jacket atop the divider, rushing toward the back of the room.

 “You can leave through the side entrance. Do you remember the way from there?”

Stabbing his feet into his shoes, Merlin smiled. 

As Arthur peeked his head to the door, he took note of the careful hand holding his. Softly Merlin chimed in Arthur's ear. 

“I guess sneaking around the castle walls isn't so bad after all.”

Spotting Merlin's fingers interlocked with his, Arthur nearly blushed. 

“You will be at the council meeting later, won't you? 

Merlin snuck by with a quick kiss.

“Where else would I be?”

Arthur returned it with the hum; one final knock ruining the moment- his eyes practically rolled out of his head. 

“I swear, whoever's behind that door is getting fired.”

“I’ll bet you 10 shillings it’s Alana.”

“The chambermaid?”

“Mhmm.”

“She likes you, you know.”

“Oh, I know,”Merlin said with wide eyes. “She told me.”

“Really?” Arthur asked with the hint of jealousy. 

“More or less, I'll tell you later,” Merlin winked. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted past Arthur's head. “Come in!”

Ducking out of the doorway, Merlin watched as Arthur threw on his robe in the nick of time. He held his breath, ear pressed to the door.

“Ahh… Alana, what a pleasure!”

“Good morning, Sire,” replied the chambermaid, a bit too chipper for the time of morning. “Was that Merlin, I heard?”

“Uhh, yes. He just left.”

“Oh that's a shame. I would have loved to say hello.”

“Well, you know Merlin- busy as always. He came by to take my order for breakfast.”

“Oh, I believe Hilda in the kitchen is cooking porridge today.”

“So I've heard,” Arthur replied rather drab; Merlin stifling a laugh in his palm.

“Perhaps I'll catch him in the courtyard later.”

“Perhaps….”

Alana cleared her throat.

“Well, I hope last night’s cold didn’t disturb your sleep,” Alana added.

Fixing his sock in his shoe, Merlin shuffled down the hall with a smile; Arthur's voice fading beyond the door. 

“No, I kept quite warm, actually…”