Author's Note: his is my very first fic ever AND it's a slash fic, so I'm understandably nervous. I'm painfully aware of how bad it is in comparison to all the brilliant fics but I would really love to get better so if you enjoy helping shitty writers out, I would really, really, really appreciate some constructive criticism so you won't have to keep burning your eyes out with this kind of stuff. Thank you sosososososososooooo much for reading, I love you ever so much. (Apologies for any spelling and grammar errors, I am stupid and don't know how to properly edit things.)
Arthur is in love with Gwen. Merlin knows that. He sees the way he looks at her, his eyes full of love and care and affection. He sees the way he brushes her arm gently, kisses her on the cheek, mouth, nose, forehead. He sees the way Arthur smiles at her from across the room, a face-splitting smile, which lights up the room and Merlin's heart.
But Merlin has felt Arthur's breath hot and heavy against his neck, the wall cold against his back. He's felt Arthur's hand tug at his hair, rough and demanding. He has felt Arthur's thigh shoved between his legs as they're pressed against the wall, Arthur mouthing at his jaw and shoulders and collarbone.
When Kilgarrah said it was destiny, Merlin is sure he didn't mean for Merlin to be pining after Arthur, desperately, achingly needing him constantly. Arthur was supposed to be the greatest king Albion had ever known. It was his destiny to marry and bear children and look after Camelot. To unite Camelot with his sorcerer at his side to consult. Not to fuck.
To be fair, though, it wasn't really Merlin's fault that Arthur strutted around Camelot being all noble and brave and fantastic. It wasn't really his fault that, if you looked at it from the right angle, on a summer day Arthur's hair was an almost blinding golden colour. That his voice would go low and soft when he was tired and instead of being king he was just… Arthur.
And sometimes, Arthur would say things that would shock Merlin, because of how blissfully human and normal and impossible it would be. It makes Merlin's heart clench tightly with affection, but then shortly after with sadness and almost a sense of loss because he would think about what was to come of him and Arthur. With destiny and all that.
"Merlin, do you think that, had I not been Prince, things would've been different?" Arthur asked, as he lay sprawled on his bed. He was waiting for Gwen to come back from taking a walk through the forest so they could dine together.
Folding clothes, ready to go back into the cupboard, Merlin was glad his back was turned so Arthur couldn't see the expression of something close to wistfulness pass over his face.
"I don't know, sire. But you wouldn't have me running around after you, that's for sure."
Arthur laughed and swung his feet over the side of the bed, "That wouldn't make much of a difference, seeing how much work you actually get done around here. But, do you think everything would be the same? I know I wouldn't have had an army to command, but do you think I still would've met Guinevere under different circumstances?"
Merlin managed a noncommittal shrug.
He heard Arthur laugh again, but it was shorter and less full of humour. There were footsteps behind him and then a hand heavy on his shoulder, "I suppose, Merlin, I would be a little disappointed that I hadn't of met you." Arthur was quiet, serious.
"Yes," Merlin said slowly, still keeping his back to Arthur, but the clothes folding had stopped. "I suppose I would too…"
A kiss was pressed to the back of his neck and Merlin let his eyes fall closed for a second, willing himself not to turn around and capture Arthur's mouth with his, push him back to the bed and risk getting caught by Gwen coming back. He clenched his fists.
After Gwen had returned to Camelot, and Arthur proposed marriage to her for the second time, he told Merlin that whatever was going on between them had to stop. He was to be a married man, and it would be such a disgrace if Gwen or the court found out. It was an offense to the vow of marriage. But whatever it was, it was harder to stop than they thought, and both Merlin and Arthur could admit to losing control more than once.
Too soon, Arthur pulled away. He showed no signs of regretting the action, but he was notorious for being able to hide things like that, and headed for the door. He may have been leaving because he had tired of waiting for Gwen, but it was probably because if he stayed in the room after that small event something dangerous and undesirable (but a little bit very desirable by the two of them) may have happened. He threw open the door and called, "Make sure dinner is ready within the hour. If Guinevere returns, send for me!"
Then, Merlin was standing alone in Arthur's chambers clutching at a worn white shirt and wishing, wishing, wishing that Arthur was still Prince, when things had been much easier.
—
It wasn't that Merlin was jealous of Gwen and certainly wasn't that he didn't like her. He was so happy for Arthur, for finally getting what he truly wanted, instead of marrying for land or money, and for Gwen, because she was so incredibly kind and considerate and modest that she deserved and needed someone like Arthur. There wasn't a more in love couple in Camelot and there was hardly any space left in Merlin's heart to feel jealousy.
Gwen had been his closest friend, for his first couple of years in Camelot. She had taught him the ways of the place and the people. Who to look out for, and where not to go as to not get his head cut off. As they were both servants, they often bumped into each other in the laundry room or kitchen or during feast to have a quick chat, and during their days off they would often go down to the small river on the outskirts of forest to pick flowers and have lunch.
She worried about him incessantly, and took care of him whenever he needed it. They even fancied each other for a bit, but it turned more into a brotherly-sisterly relationship as time passed. When Gwen had rushed up to Merlin, frantically telling him that Arthur just kissed her, he beamed at her and told her that it had taken long enough. But that was the first and last time he had felt a pang of jealousy, because Merlin realized and never forgot, that despite his girlish wishes and dreams that Arthur would decide just not to marry and stay with Merlin, it was Arthur's duty as Crowned Prince to present Camelot with a Queen and children to take his place and despite Arthur's moaning about how he didn't want to yet, they all knew it was a duty he could not ignore.
These days, it was much harder from Gwen and Merlin to have the same friendship as they did before. As Queen, she couldn't just stroll down to the forest with a servant to have a picnic and she would hardly ever be seen in the laundry room, not with her own servant girl to do the laundry for her. She participated in counsel meetings and discussed tactics with the knights; Gwen was not a queen to sit around in her chambers all day preparing to look pretty for a feast. Merlin often found himself wishing that he could spend more time with Gwen, like when she wasn't queen.
He had been wishing a lot of things lately.
—
Merlin swore that if he ever heard the word destiny again, he was going to kill someone. Or something. Preferably a great dragon whose name started with a K.
He padded around Gaius' room the morning after, looking for wormwood. Gaius had gone down to the early morning market to see if he could get his hands on a rare flower, which apparently had great medicinal properties… When entered into the body through the rectum, but he didn't really like to think about that.
Gaius didn't know about what was happening between Merlin and Arthur. He may of suspected it the many times Merlin crept back into his room just before day break after spending the night in Arthur's chambers, but since Gwen and Arthur's marriage, he thought that it must've been over. Besides, they had still been young at the time; it was just a childish fling. There was no real depth to it apart from a physical lust.
And that's what Merlin thought, for the first couple of months too.
It was just mid-morning when Gaius returned and he sat down at the table, watching Merlin prepare to go and serve Arthur.
"Merlin," he began.
"Yes, Gaius," Merlin said, sounding a little bit long-suffering, which he regretted immediately, once he saw The Eyebrow take its place.
Where did Gaius learn The Eyebrow, nobody knew, but it was a constant potential punishment for anyone who annoyed, confused, frustrated, amused or approached Gaius. Back in the day, it had the power to make even Uther succumb to Gaius' wise words every now and then. Everyone in the castle feared its power.
"You've haven't been yourself lately. Now, I understand that Arthur's entire destiny thing is getting to you, but you grow more withdrawn by the day. Come, my boy, tell me what is the matter."
Merlin turned and looked at Gaius. The old man was genuinely concerned about Merlin, his mouth drawn into a hard line as he peered at him through his spectacles. He wished (again with the wishing, he should just summon a damn genie) he could tell him, but there was something about telling your almost-father that your secret sex-life with your married boyfriend wasn't going well that really just didn't appeal to Merlin.
He gave Gaius a strained smile, "I'll tell you later, Gaius. I've got to go and see to Arthur. See you later." Then he closed the door and let out a heavy sigh.
Did Arthur know that every time Merlin looked at him and Gwen, it almost physically hurt him? Did he realize that it felt like he was drowning in his own love for Arthur, which he felt could never be truly returned? He had hoped that maybe, Arthur did know. And that maybe, he was suffering a little bit too. Maybe Arthur knew that Merlin hurt, but he couldn't say anything or do anything because it would just hurt even more.
That was kind of the problem really, it occurred to Merlin, as he buckled up Arthur's armour, trying desperately not to breathe in too much, for a fear that the smell of Arthur which made him feel so at home and warm and safe would send him crashing down, down, down and he would lose everything he had built up over the past year. Merlin needed to feel Arthur against him, holding him closer. But, he couldn't and that made him ache with want. Arthur and Merlin had to keep a certain distance, now that Arthur was married to Gwen, because Merlin knew that if they went any further than longing glances, afterwards, he would feel so incredibly guilty and then he would want Arthur more and never be able to stop.
It was just an endless circle of want and guilt and God, Arthur, why.
As Gwen swept into the room, her long gown trailing behind her, she smiled warmly at Merlin, "Morning, Merlin. Did Arthur need you to dress him again?"
Merlin grinned as he straighten the armour, while Arthur tried his very best to look indignant.
"Guinevere, I'll have you know that this armour is very hard to put on indeed! Just ask any of the knights!"
Gwen cocked her head, a smile still on her pretty features, "Wasn't that Sir Leon who had to go without a servant for 3 weeks and managed to put on his armour fine each morning?"
Arthur flicked Merlin on the ear as the warlock snorted.
"Well," he said, searching for an excuse, "… I mean, it's just that…" He floundered, looking a little annoyed, while Merlin laughed.
With a fond look on her face, Gwen approached the king and kissed him sweetly, "Oh, Arthur. It doesn't matter how difficult you find it to put on your clothes, I still love you."
Attending to the fire, Merlin's grin fell a little as Arthur and Gwen stood in the middle of the room, kissing and generally being in love. Arthur had his head ducked down to be at eye level with Gwen, while she stood a little on her tiptoes. Feeling a little uncomfortable now, Merlin stood and quietly left the room.
He was a little but angry as he went down the corridors to the kitchens, and he didn't know why. It was quite usual for Arthur and Gwen to be touchy-feely all the time. In fact once, Merlin had about 5 seconds to literally run out of the room before the King and Queen fell into bed together, giggling like children.
Did Arthur know what he was doing? Kissing Gwen in front of Merlin, looking content and happy with the world, while his manservant felt like running to the nearest tower and jumping off it? Maybe it was Arthur's way of telling him he didn't feel for Merlin anymore? No.
Before Arthur realized his feelings for Gwen, it was simply Merlin and Arthur. Merlin would attend to Arthur during the day and in the afternoons and evenings when Arthur was free from his princely duties, they would tumble into his bed, all hands and skin, mouths and hair. Sometimes, Arthur would corner Merlin in a deserted hallway and snog him senseless, then walk away as if nothing happened, leaving Merlin bruised at the mouth but excited for what was to come. During feasts, when Merlin would go to top up Arthur's wine glass, he would breathe a warm stream of air down Arthur's neck and watch as Arthur fidgeted for the rest of the night until he was finally allowed to leave. He would drag Merlin up to his bedroom and lock the doors and get revenge for his discomfort in public.
During those times, Merlin felt constantly happy and though it was a little bit silly, he thought it wouldn't end. After all, Merlin and Arthur were destined to stay with each other forever. Two sides of the same coin, as a certain dragon might say. The only problem was, that when he lay next to Arthur, running his fingers and palms over warm skin and pressing his lips to the his hair, he felt guilty that Arthur had let himself be exposed to Merlin. He had whispered to him things only Merlin knew, he confided in him constantly and trusted Merlin with his life time after time yet Merlin withheld the biggest secret of them all. Arthur had told Merlin everything, yet in return, though he didn't know it, Merlin had given almost nothing.
Sometimes, Merlin would have had dreams where Arthur was king and Merlin was being forced to his knees in front of him. As Merlin looked up at Arthur, the King stood and demands Merlin to tell him, was he a sorcerer? And how could Merlin deny what was true to Arthur, his Arthur, the bravest and greatest king Albion has ever known? But in his dreams, Arthur was not angry at him for being a sorcerer. He was angry because Merlin had lied to him, after all those years, he had trusted him and Merlin had lied. Merlin was a filthy liar and deserved the exile he was then given.
When the warlock awoke from these dreams, gasping and sobbing, Arthur would tug at his arm gently, run a hand over his hair and pull him closer, chasing away tears with kisses that filled Merlin with a feeling that overwhelmed him completely. Arthur would never ask what the dreams were about, and Merlin never said anything.
When the courting of Gwen began, Merlin and Arthur kept their hands off of each other for a short time, but it didn't last long. They had been in Arthur's chambers, after he had been dining with Gwen and Merlin was helping undress him for bed, when out of nowhere, Arthur's hands framed his face and he was kissing him, tongue pressing against his mouth, which Merlin opened obediently.
It was only then that whatever they had had to go even more under covers than before. Pun intended. But they knew, oh they knew something would go wrong if they kept it up.
Then, Lancelot happened. Gwen was exiled from Camelot and that night there was nothing Merlin could do but hold Arthur and nose at his cheek, whispering small comforts. Arthur was heartbroken; his to-be wife had left him in an instant (though he didn't know that it wasn't truly her choice) for a knight he had thought to be long dead. He had lay back on his bed, tearing himself up from the inside and let Merlin brush his fingers along the bridge of his nose, jaw and into his hair.
Merlin and Arthur cared for each other; there was no way that Arthur would be as cruel as to do such a thing. All Merlin needed was a bit of a break from his King and his wife, so he could think and maybe try and mentally get over Arthur. It wouldn't be that hard.
That was the solution.
He was going to run away.
Temporarily, of course, he shouldn't be gone for more than a couple of weeks, and he'll camp out near the city but out of sight, so if he were ever needed, he could return quickly. Gaius wouldn't have to know and certainly not Arthur. His magic could sustain him for the time he was away, so he wouldn't need to bring too much food and maybe, just maybe, when he came back Merlin wouldn't be so desperately in love with Arthur.
One morning, before he was due to see to Arthur, Merlin packed two small bags with his belongings. A small dagger, for protection, but he doubted bandits would stray so near to the castle anyway, his bedroll, his spells book (though this was mainly for comfort and peace of mind. Merlin had pretty much memorized its entire contents his first two years or so in Camelot) and some food he had nicked from the kitchens over a period of a couple of days, as to not seem too suspicious. The food would last him around a week, if he rationed it carefully.
Gaius had prepared him breakfast and he sat at the table, acting completely as if he wasn't going to run away from the castle. He smiled at Gaius and complained to him about Arthur being a prat and a cabbage-head and various other colourful insults he had ever called his king. Gaius told him about some patients he had the other day and while Merlin looked interested he wondered what he was going to be doing away from Camelot. He was no hunter and there would be no point killing animals for the kitchens to use if they were going to be days old by the time he brought them back.
"… So, he was sweating profusely out of every hole in his body, and when I say every hole, I mean every hole-"Gaius was now gathering up the bowls and pottering over for them to be cleaned.
Merlin cleared his throat loudly, trying not to let the visual into his head, "Gaius, what would you do if you were camping out in the forest for a week?"
God, here comes The Eyebrow.
"For what reason would you camp in the forest for? And why are you asking that? Is Arthur going on another hunting trip?"
"No, it's just… I was wondering, you know, what you would do to pass the time?" Merlin realized that he never should've opened his mouth.
"But, why?" Gaius narrowed his eyes, suspiciously.
Get up and leave, Merlin. Get up now and run and you won't have to answer him. Leave, damn it, so he doesn't suspect you of doing anything more stupid that you actually are!
Merlin swallowed and stood up suddenly, "No reason, Gaius, just curious…"
He was frozen in a position, where his left foot twitched into a half run position, but his right foot anchored him down.
Gaius took a couple of steps forward and stopped, a few feet from the door. "Merlin…"
With an inward sigh, Merlin mentally berated himself for getting into this, "Well… I'mgoingtorunawayforaweekIhope youdon'tmind."
The he skirted around Gaius, who had a very confused expression on his face and slammed the door.
Now that he had gotten away from Gaius, all he had to do was manage to convince Arthur to let him off early.
That proved to be a difficult task, and Merlin realized that as soon as he stepped into Arthur's chambers for that morning. Arthur was in an exceptionally bad mood today. His knights had all been put out of action by two very skilled bandits, when they were on a patrol. The whole group came back, struggling to sit upright, covered in lots of short and deep slashes all over their bodies. Gwaine said to Arthur, after he had stopped bleeding all over the ground that they were both very small and both very agile. They wielded a small serrated dagger in each hand and practically flew through the air. Leon suspected the blades had been poisoned, because they stung intensely put when to skin and the knights all came down with a fever the next day. Percival, who never wore sleeves (Arthur was started to suspect he might be allergic to them) suffered the worst, as his arms were fully exposed to the blades.
Arthur was banging around his chamber, throwing things down onto the table and just making a mess of everything, which Merlin noted that he would probably have to clean up later. Gwen was nowhere to be seen; she probably escaped from Arthur's rage by hurrying down to the throne room. When Merlin entered, Arthur turned his way and sent him a dark look.
"You're late, Merlin," he snarled.
Merlin knew when Arthur was like this, there was no point arguing. He had tried many times, only to have gotten things thrown at him, like plates. And cups. Also, chamber pots.
"Sorry, sire."
He set to work picking up the things Arthur had left in his wake and putting them back where they belonged. After a long, heated silence, Arthur slammed his hand down on the table, "I need those two bandits captured."
Pausing for a moment, Merlin dared to say, "Wouldn't they be gone by now?"
Arthur barked out a bitter laugh, "Now that they know they've managed to send home Camelot's best knights in shame, they're going to stay and to try and set up camp. If they can do that to my knights, they could potentially kill anyone coming in and out of the city."
"So you couldn't ambush them?"
"No… They'll be expecting it. It's all about strategy, Merlin, you wouldn't understand-"
"Obviously not," Merlin muttered under his breath as he adjusted the sheets.
"-we're going to have to make them think they have the upper hand," Arthur poked his head out the door and asked a servant to summon Leon to his chambers.
It seemed that with the prospect of strategizing on Arthur's mind, he calmed down considerably and actually seemed to be in a better mood than before. He wasn't grumbling to himself or throwing things so Merlin, after doing a rather good job of straightening the sheets, he turned around to ask Arthur whether he could be let off early that night.
When he did turn, Arthur was sitting on his desk chair, with one leg slung over the arm rest, his head tilted back, giving Merlin a pretty decent view of his neck. It was very un-Kingly, but Arthur didn't seem to really care and let out a heavy sigh. He appeared to be either very tired or deep in thought.
Merlin though this was incredibly unfair, the way he was sitting and it made him want to stride over to Arthur, place his hands on his shoulders and bite at his jaw. He rubbed his eyes, and tried to think about Gaius' butt. He shuddered.
"Arthur," he started, his voice decidedly hoarse, "I was wondering if you could let me off a little early today…"
Arthur's head snapped up and he looked Merlin in the eye, "And why would I do that for you?"
"Uh, I was hoping… "Merlin fumbled around his brain for something, anything. "I was hoping to meet a girl…"
It was cruel to say that to Arthur but it was a sure-fire way to get him to let Merlin off. He was the one who said they had to stop, and it would be just a little more than suspicious if he wasn't going to let his manservant off early and stop him from going on a date.
There was another heavy silence as Arthur narrowed his eyes at Merlin. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, but Merlin liked to think it was something along the lines of whoever this girl is, I don't like her. Merlin looks particularly good-looking in this light. Maybe I should give him a raise.
"I'm surprised you even managed to talk to a girl without her running away in sheer terror. Very well, you may leave before dinner tonight," Arthur's tone was teasing, but even Merlin could tell he wasn't very happy with this new discovery.
Merlin nodded, "Thank you, sire."
Sir Leon arrived at Arthur's door a few moments later and Merlin was allowed to flee from the uncomfortable quiet that had followed their conversation.
—
It was a long wait until that night and when Merlin had served dinner to Arthur and Gwen he finished the rest of his work at a speed that even shocked him and then smiled and left, aware that Arthur was watching him with a frown.
He jogged through the castle and up into his room. Gaius was often out attending to patients at this time, so the room was thankfully empty. The warlock grabbed his bags from where he left them on his bed and threw them over his shoulder.
It wasn't that hard to leave the citadel at this time, most people were either too busy with their work or too busy with their food to notice a gangly male leaving through the gates and head out towards the forest.
As Merlin walked the day slowly transitioned to night and he watched as the stars slowly twinkled on, like tiny far away candles. He often wondered what would happen if he summoned Kilgarrah and just flew, until he could touch them.
He chose a spot just close to the edge of the forest to sleep, and would continue his journey tomorrow. By now, he was a couple of hours from the city and it was fully night, the wind biting at his skin. Merlin lay out his bedroll and when he lay down he realized with a sharp twang of fear, the two bandits Arthur was so pissed off with were still roaming around. But he had magic, they only had tiny knives. He would be safe enough.
Morning broke, sharp and clear over Camelot and back inside the castle, just as Merlin has finished packing up his bedroll and continued on his small journey, Arthur lay in bed scowling.
Gwen propped herself up on her elbow, looked down at her husband and had to hold back a laugh. On his face was a very child-like pout and his arm were crossed as he glared at the canopy of their bed.
"Arthur, what's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Don't be silly, you look like a child who was just told to go to bed."
He huffed and said, "Merlin was acting suspicious yesterday, when he asked to be dismissed early."
Gwen raised her eyebrows, "How come?"
"He said he was going to see a girl."
This time, the queen did laugh. "Arthur, just because you don't find him all that dashing, it doesn't mean some of the other girls don't!"
Her statement did nothing to lighten Arthur's expression and she just sighed, "I'm sure Merlin will be back this morning, there is no need for you to worry about him." Gwen patted his chest and left the bed, preparing for the day.
Thing is, Arthur knew that Merlin wasn't really going to see a girl. At first, he thought he was and Arthur became awash with jealousy. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized Merlin had been lying. Firstly, there was just no way a girl would be interested in Merlin. He was all elbows and knees and pointy angles. Arthur had no problem with that, in fact enjoyed running his hands over these sharp angles on Merlin's body, but he could hardly imagine a woman could do the same. And, secondly, Merlin just had the look in his eye. That look that said Hey, Arthur, I'm going off to do something irresponsible and stupid. Don't wait up.
But still, Arthur was being a little over-bearing and suspicious of his manservant's activities. If Merlin didn't return by dinnertime that night, he would have to go and investigate.
Merlin trudged along down path that couldn't really be called a path. It was really more of a line of leaves and plants that had been squished by a rampaging deer, probably escaping from hunters.
It was almost midday and he was beginning to get a little hungry. Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, he broke into a small clearing. The dirt didn't seem too wet from the recent rains that had been plaguing Camelot and the trees created a safe and enclosed environment. Merlin decided it would be perfect for his little camp and began to set up.
He magicked up a comfortable fire in the middle and behind him, his bedroll settled lightly over the driest patch of ground. Bread and cheese came out of his bag and the young warlock sat back and ate his lunch. Back in Camelot, he would probably be buffing up Arthur's armour or cleaning the stables or sitting in his room, thinking about Arthur in general. It wasn't that Merlin wasn't doing the latter currently; he was just trying to supress it as much as possible. He felt it was going to be a long couple of days and he also knew that he was going to be glad to return to the castle and his king. There was no way they could stay apart for too long.
There first time Arthur kissed him, the tension between them had built up between so much it had been quite a relief. For weeks and weeks they had been skirting around each other, Merlin leaving lingering touches when he dressed Arthur in the morning and Arthur in turn, leaning in just a little too close to be platonic when talking to Merlin. He would give orders and his voice would be low and husky, but Merlin would gnaw at his lip so they were red and swollen before he entered Arthur's chambers to get revenge. It was almost like a little game.
They had been in the throne room, listening to Uther lecture the knights about something that wasn't really important and it was the middle of summer. The heat was almost unbearable and Arthur has taken to walking around in a very thin shirt, which was quite see-through and very adept at driving Merlin insane. Partly because it was hell to clean, stains were impossible to get out of it, but mostly because Arthur looked especially brilliant in it.
It was hours, but finally, they were released. Merlin let out a sigh and as he walked along with Arthur he chatted on about how he felt like going down to the nearby river and swimming for a bit. Arthur probably wasn't even listening, but Merlin kept going anyway. He talked about how hot it had been in Gaius' chambers and was quite rudely cut off when Arthur pushed him into a small alcove. He pinned Merlin to the wall by his arm braced against his chest and snarled, "If you don't shut up now, I'm going shut you up myself."
Merlin had swallowed thickly and looked at Arthur in the eye. He remembered seeing them dark with frustration, but also what seemed like lust and, almost jokingly, rolled his hips up against Arthur's, a half smirk on his face. Arthur's eyes had widened with shock, and then they narrowed and pressed his palm to the front of Merlin's breeches and kissed him roughly, his other hand carding through Merlin's hair.
Later on, when Merlin slumped against Arthur, spent but incredibly satisfied and pressing their foreheads together he had thought that whatever had just happened, it wasn't going to be serious. Boys will be boys and sometimes, it just happened.
He had been wrong. Over time, Merlin and Arthur found that Merlin was spending more time in Arthur's bed than his own. They felt loss at each other's absences and though it took long enough to admit it to himself, Merlin had gone and fallen for the bastard. And it was totally Arthur's fault. He wouldn't say or even think the 'L' word though. Only maidens said that word and when you're a man, being manly is pretty important on The List of Things You Must Do Every Day.
—
It was close to midnight as Arthur jogged through the castle's halls and towards Gaius' quarters. The old man was probably asleep right now, but only he could know where Merlin was.
He almost kicked open the door and it bounced off the wall with a tremendous bang. Gaius, who was lying on his bed, started awake and sat up. He looked around wildly and frowned at Arthur.
"Sire, what are you doing at this time of night?"
"Merlin! Where is he? He's gone down to attack those bandits, hasn't he? I told him that we had to lure them into a false sense of security before attacking! He's gone off to be heroic, god he's so stupid!" Arthur ranted, throwing his hands up into the air.
"I'm afraid I don't know where Merlin has gone, my Lord," Gaius got to his feet. "Yesterday morning he was acting strangely and he mentioned something about camping out in the forest. I haven't seen him since."
Arthur groaned aloud, "The bandits shouldn't be more than a day away from the city. He's walking right into their arms! The idiot! Gaius, I'm going to find him. If I don't return within a couple of days, ask Guinevere to send out a patrol to look for us."
Then, he was gone as quickly as he came. Gaius shuffled back to his bed and pulled the thin blanket over him. He didn't think that Merlin would've wanted Arthur to know he had run away, so he didn't mention it. They would find each other anyway, he was sure of it.
As the king rode out of the city, Merlin was about half a day away, sleeping soundly on his bedroll, unaware of the two bandits with tiny knives close by.
—
Merlin awoke with a startled yell around mid-morning to a very painful burning sensation in his right arm. As his brain made sense of his surroundings, he became aware of the fact that there was someone standing next to him holding a tiny knife and he was tied to a tree which surrounded his little camp.
The knife really was very small, Merlin noted. The blade was about the length of his pinkie finger, but the person appeared to wield it with great ease. They had run the tiny blade over Merlin's arm, which was causing the stinging and had now increased tenfold. He clenched his teeth and spotted the second bandit close by, rummaging through his bags.
He hoped that his magic book looked uninteresting enough that they would just ignore it. The bandits were both very thin looking, like the knights had said. They were small, much like their blades, they would probably only reach beneath Merlin's chest, but he would do well to fear them. He was closely aware of the fact that they had managed to bring down a whole patrol of Arthur's best knights.
Arthur. Fuck, what was Arthur going to think? Gaius probably didn't expect him to return for a couple more days and by then he could be dead. Arthur would hardly notice his absence for another half-day and where would he go from there? He had left no trail, the path he had followed had probably sprung up to its usual state by now and these forests were huge. He could be anywhere.
The bandit by his side (a bearded man with a bulbous nose) leered at him with rotten teeth when the other bandit (who had rather long and greasy hair) pulled out his magic book. Merlin couldn't repress a groan.
"What's that book to ya, boy?"
Merlin didn't reply. He was already formulating a plan. If he could magic off the ropes that were cutting into his wrists, he could knock out the two of them and tie them up. It wouldn't require a complicated spell; in fact it was one of the first in the book.
He looked at Beardy and he felt a surge of magic beneath his skin. He watched as the bandit's eyes widened almost imperceptibly and then collapsed to the ground, a steady stream of blood leaking from his mouth and mouth.
The other bandit rose to his feet with a surprised shout, dropping the book on the ground. But just before Merlin could even began to direct that magic at him, King fucking Arthur crashed through the trees on horseback as if he owned the place (which, technically he did). Despite his ultimate relief to see Arthur, he was just a little bit miffed because Arthur had just come and ruined a perfectly easy situation to get out of. In fact, he had ruined the entire reason why Merlin was out here in the first place.
—
Arthur was looking at the ground intently, hoping to find some traces of Merlin being there. He had only left the day before yesterday, the tracks couldn't have vanished that soon. It hadn't even rained!
He had been searching for nearly an hour, with no luck and was beginning to get testy. Why on earth did Merlin have to go out by himself and try and look for those bandits? What his motives were, Arthur had no clue? Was it some cry for attention or did he really think that he could take down those bandits? He could hardly lift a sword, what made him think he could do it?
Just as he was about to look somewhere else, he heard a cry. Arthur hopped back onto his horse and galloped into the direction it came from. Apparently, he didn't have to gallop that far, literally 10 seconds later he burst into a very well secluded clearing. There was a small fire going in the middle, signs of someone staying there. He scanned the area and close to the edge was one half of the pair of bandits, looking terrified and half into a standing position, his hand going for his tiny knives (they really were tiny). Then Arthur realized that Merlin was tied to a tree, while another collapsed bandit was next to him. He almost rolled his eyes at Merlin's proneness to get himself into very troublesome… Well, trouble.
The King slid from his horse, drew his sword from the sheath about his hips and charged at the bandit, who immediately retaliated by bearing his own weapons. Arthur realized that it would almost be impossible to parry the blows that were directed at him. The blades were so small that Arthur could easily miss and swing upward towards nothing.
Out of the corner of his eyes, the sun glinted on a blade travelling very fast towards his side. He hadn't worn his armour or any chainmail for that matter and was incredibly exposed. With quick reflexes he often prided himself on; Arthur twisted away and drove his sword down. This movement was quickly halted by an intense stinging sensation in his forearm. With a hiss of pain, his attack dropped to his side, lamely.
While Arthur was fighting the second bandit, Merlin took the chance to magic his book into the bag, so it wouldn't be seen by either of the two fighting each other.
The bandit darted his blades to Arthur's side again, but this time Arthur used his sword to block them. He was still wondering whether he would miss and was mentally preparing himself for when the stinging would reach his side. He did miss, but not in the way he wouldn't expected. His blade had been directed too close to the bandits hand, he had misjudged how short the knives truly were and it had lodged itself into the bandit's wrist, touching the bone. The bandit let out a howl of pain and dropped both of his weapons to wrench his hand off from Arthur's blade and cradle it close to his chest.
Arthur took this opportunity to drive his sword into the man's stomach and watch him fall helplessly to the ground. He surveyed his sword, which was slicked with blood and he wiped it on the grass. Merlin could clean it later.
Merlin.
He was still sitting there, tied to the tree and Arthur hurried over to him, immediately trying to loosen the ropes. Merlin was talking at him, but he didn't really hear. All he could make out was, "Arthur," and "what do you think you're doing" and "you clotpole". When the ropes were untied (with a little help from a tiny knife nicked from the other dead bandit by his side), Arthur wrenched Merlin to his feet and started at him angrily.
"What?" Said Merlin.
"I told you, Merlin, didn't you listen to me?" Arthur waved his arms in the air. "We would lure them into false security before attacking, we were not going to run into their arms like a lunatic thinking we could be all heroic!"
"I was not-" Merlin sounded very indignant.
"No, listen! You are not a knight, I should think even you would know that! You are not expected to go and fight bandits, what made you think you could do it?"
Merlin gripped his arm tightly and forced through his teeth, "Arthur. I didn't leave because I wanted to fight the bandits. They were a minor setback. I left because I was running away."
Oh.
Oh.
Arthur faltered and became very confused. "But, why?"
"Because I was fed up of having to look at you every day and know I couldn't have you. I was fed up of constantly feeling like a love-struck teenage girl around you and I needed to collect my thoughts and… I don't know, get over you."
Merlin looked torn up as he let go of Arthur's arm and let his own flop to his side, but he still kept their eyes locked.
"Merlin," Arthur said.
He took a step closer, paused then put his hands on Merlin's shoulder, but they travelled up to cup the back of his neck. Their foreheads pressed together, sharing breath, Arthur started again. "Merlin, I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry. But we both know that-"
Merlin huffed a short laugh, "You have to marry and bear children. I know." He sounded so disappointed that Arthur couldn't help but press his mouth to his cheek.
"I love Guinevere, I do. But, you? I don't know. Can I love two people at the same time? Because, you know, Merlin," Arthur grinned weakly, "You're pretty special. Even if you are a terrible manservant."
He got no reply, but could feel Merlin's hands fisted into his shirt.
Arthur pulled back slightly and scanned Merlin's eyes. They were an overly bright blue, glinting in the weak sun. Then he kissed him, pushing him back against the tree Merlin had been tied up against not quite so long ago.
His fingers tightened in the soft, fluffy hair at his neck and Arthur's other hand ran down Merlin's back to pull his closer in by the waist. Merlin's tongue was exploring his mouth, hot and wet against his own, his palms sliding up beneath Arthur's shirt, touching the warm skin there.
When they pulled back for a breath, Arthur ducked his head and nipped at his shoulders and collarbones. Feeling his pulse thrumming beneath his tongue. Merlin wondered vaguely, as he sucked in copious amounts of air and clenched tightly at his king's hips, whether Arthur had a thing for his neck. Judging by the amount of attention he gave it whenever they did this sort of thing, he probably did.
With a cheeky sort of smirk, Merlin tilted his head to the right, exposing as much neck as possible, reaching up temporarily to tug off his neckerchief and toss it on the ground. Arthur made a keening sort of noise in the back of his throat and bit down, roughly.
He kept the smirk until Arthur shoved his hand down the front of Merlin's breeches, which caused Merlin throw his head back and bang it quite painfully on the tree.
—
Being in the clearing with Arthur, Merlin had to wonder what was going to happen when they returned to Camelot. Would they keep up their sneaky little affair or this time, drop it completely? Arthur didn't seem to mention it, so he probably had no idea either. However, for now, Merlin was happy and not thinking about destiny or the future and that was enough for the time being.
END