Hello again! I'm still working on that long Merthur fanfic. I'm rereading it now so that I can finish it (the deadline for it is August 20 and I'm still lost in chapter 8/11 oops), but right now I'm here with this oneshot. It can be just bromance, it can be Merthur, you decide ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. The idea for this fanfic comes from thesongofmerlin's Instagram story, and it's written with permission.
I hope you like it! :)
* MEDIEVAL GIVEAWAY *
.
It's winter again in Camelot. The trees are white, as are the roofs of all the houses in the Lower Town and the towers of the castle. Arthur is looking out of the window at the courtyard. There are his people, still working despite the weather. Only the children seem happy to see so much snow, and it brings a smile to Arthur's face.
But then it disappears. Many people can't afford to dress warmly when it's cold outside. It saddens him to see them out there, still working, in their regular clothes and only a couple of cloths thrown over their shoulders.
He sighs and steps away from the window.
Where is Merlin? He was supposed to be here already.
Arthur once again looks out of the window and sees him – his manservant and his best friend – and he frowns because what the hell is Merlin wearing? His old neckerchief, jacket and tunic, but nothing else. This is what he wears all summer, does he not have anything else to put on when it's snowing?
Arthur purses his lips and waits until his servant finally opens the door.
"You're late," he informs him.
Merlin groans. "I'm sorry, but have you seen what it looks like out there? The snow is everywhere and it's so hard to walk through it and-"
"Merlin, you literally live in the castle."
"And?" Merlin shrugs.
Arthur just rolls his eyes and returns to staring out of the window. He tries to ignore the way Merlin's neck is exposed to the cold, or the snow in his hair, eyebrows and eyelashes. But when Merlin's teeth start chattering, Arthur can't just stand there and do nothing.
But what is he supposed to do? Go there and give him a hug to warm him up? No, he needs to think of something better. He turns to the boy and just stares at him – Merlin is kneeling in front of the fireplace, starting the fire and warming his cold fingers near the flames. He can't see Arthur staring at him.
That's when Arthur finally decides what to do.
He walks over to his wardrobe and opens it. There are so many tunics, breeches, gloves, jackets, socks and other kinds of clothes that Merlin takes care of and yet . . . he himself has close to nothing. Arthur grabs one of his old tunics and looks it over. He doesn't wear it anymore. It's just there, doing nothing. As is the jacket next to it. And that other tunic he used to love a few years ago.
He doesn't need them anymore, but he knows exactly who does. That idiot near the fire who's still shivering from cold.
Arthur takes the tunic and unfolds it, saying goodbye. And then he throws it over his shoulder on his bed. He continues with the jacket and another tunic until one of them lands on Merlin's head.
"Hey!" Merlin mumbles. Then he turns around and sees the opened wardrobe and Arthur throwing things out of it. "What the hell are you doing?" He stands up and walks closer to the prince. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to fold all of them and place them there?"
But Arthur doesn't stop. "You should have taken a better look at them first because frankly, Merlin, these are old and don't fit me anymore."
"So you're finally admitting you're fat?"
"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur frowns, considering if he really wants to give Merlin all those tunics. But it really is cold in Camelot this year.
Merlin goes over to the bed and takes a look at everything Arthur has thrown there. "So you're just gonna throw them all away? Just like that?"
"Yep," Arthur nods.
"You're a prat, you know?" Merlin sighs. "Do you know how long it must have taken to make all these clothes for you? And you don't even care about them. You just decide they don't fit you and throw them away."
That's exactly what Arthur was waiting for. "If you care so much about them, you should just take them."
A pause. Merlin is silent for a moment. And then, "you're serious?"
Arthur finally turns to face Merlin and shrugs. "Well, I don't want them."
Merlin purses his lips and takes the nearest tunic. Then another one, and the jacket, and Arthur's smile keeps growing. When Merlin looks at him again, Arthur hides that smile immediately. Merlin just shakes his head.
"I'll take a better care of all these, you'll see," he says.
"Are you saying you're lousy at your job and don't take care of my clothes properly?" Arthur crosses his arms across his chest.
Merlin just pouts. "Prat." Then he collects the rest of the clothes that Arthur left on the bed and leaves the chambers, still mumbling something under his breath.
Arthur returns to the window with a satisfied smile on his face. He can't help every single citizen of Camelot, but he can start with Merlin and continue with the rest of the kingdom when he's the king.
xoXÖXox
The Next Day
Arthur is sitting at his desk, writing a speech for the council meeting the next day. It's still snowing outside and he can't go on a hunting trip and has to work instead, which doesn't help with lifting up his mood. But it's still morning and the day has barely begun. Merlin hasn't even arrived yet to wake him up, which isn't that unusual.
When the door finally opens – without a knock – Arthur doesn't even have to look up to know who it is.
"Sorry," he hears Merlin mumble as he carefully walks to the table, putting down a tray full of food.
Arthur sighs and finally looks up, opening his mouth to say what an idiot Merlin is, but he stops with his mouth still open. There's something about Merlin that he hasn't prepared himself for. Merlin is adjusting the food on the table and filling his goblet with water from the pitcher and . . . he's wearing Arthur's clothes.
Almost all of them, actually. He still has his trousers, but Arthur can see he's wearing his old and much warmer tunic, a warm vest over it with a jacket on top. His neck isn't exposed to the freezing air, but instead it's covered in Merlin's own neckerchief and Arthur's old warm scarf.
"Arthur?" Merlin asks with concern in his voice. Only then Arthur realizes Merlin's been staring at him the entire time.
"You're an idiot," is all Arthur can think of saying. Then he realizes how stupid that is, but it's too late.
"No, you are," Merlin replies. "All that clothes and you can't handle someone else wearing it? Well, too late, my lord," Merlin smirks at him as he sips from Arthur's goblet.
Arthur is okay with that. Just as he's okay with Merlin calling him an idiot and a prat. As long as Merlin is warm and not freezing to death out there, Arthur's fine with anything.
He puts down his quill and stands up to eat. This day is far from over and from now on, Arthur thinks, it's going to be better.
*The End*
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