A/N: Got this idea while listening to the song "I'm Not a Thief, I'm a Treasure Hunter" by A Skylit Drive. Thus the title.
I've wanted to write a Merlin fic for a while now, but I've never had the guts to take it on. I hope I don't butcher this too much.
Anyways, this was originally going to take place after "The Moment of Truth" (Episode 10) but I decided to leave it open to interpretation.
Warnings: Spoilers? Maybe a few…
Please review to tell me what you think of it!
I'm Not A Thief
-i'm a treasure hunter-
All his fault. All his fault. Not my fault, it was him. He did it. It's all his fault.
Arthur woke with a start. His back was wet with sweat, even though his room felt cold.
He hadn't had that dream in a while. Not since Merlin came, at the very least. Arthur looked towards his door cautiously. Hopefully no one had heard him.
Arthur wanted to blame it on Morgana, he really did. She was the one who was supposed to have the nightmares; she was the damsel in distress. Not Arthur. Arthur was the dashing knight who saved the damsel in distress.
Not that he'd ever save Morgana. Certainly he'd let her get eaten by the dragon or robbed by the gang of bandits.
Arthur felt his stomach twist and his head began to ring. It was no use, he couldn't distract himself. The dream—nightmare—had been as vivid as it used to be.
Arthur suddenly remembered the times when he was younger, and had snuck into Morgana's chambers and fallen asleep on the floor to escape the nightmares. He had woken wrapped in a blanket with Morgana's questioning face hovering above him.
Of course, he couldn't do that now. Besides, Gwen was probably with her and… he just didn't want to see Gwen. Not now.
"Arthur?"
Great. Now Merlin was here. Arthur rubbed at his throat self-consciously. Had he been screaming?
He shook his head to dismiss those thoughts. Of course not. He was the heir to the throne, a knight of Camelot, he did not scream.
"I thought I heard screaming, is everything okay?"
Arthur groaned loudly. "Yes, Merlin, everything is fine. Do you ever learn to knock?"
Merlin snorted. "I was bringing you breakfast, sire." He said, the sarcasm coming in waves. It made Arthur want to throw something at his manservant.
But that was certainly nothing new.
Suddenly, Merlin's words hit him. Was it already the morning? "Breakfast? What?"
Merlin looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "You know, what you eat every morning." He looked back down at the tray before placing it on the table. "Um… we've got some fruits, a cup of water and…" Merlin raised both his eyebrows this time and lifted up a spoon from the bowl. "Some mushy thing." He sniffed it carefully. "It's still warm."
"I'm not hungry, Merlin."
His manservant gasped and clutched at his chest. "Not… hungry… I never thought I'd see this day. What's going on, who are you? You're definitely not the barbaric prat who usually scarfs down his breakfast every morn—"
"Just shut up, Merlin!" Arthur snapped, putting his head in his hands.
Not his fault… It's not his fault… Mine… It's mine… It's all his fault.
Merlin sighed and tossed a pear to Arthur. It landed safely on the sheets next to his lap.
"You're certainly starting the day off grumpily."
Arthur rolled onto his side and buried his head in the pillow. "'M tired."
Merlin decided it was best to stay quiet. He sat down in a chair across the room.
Five minutes later, he was having trouble staying still. Will had always told him that if sitting quietly was a matter of life and death than Merlin would be a goner.
Merlin often told him the same.
A smile tugged at his lips. "Arthur."
There was no response.
"Arthur."
"What, Merlin?" A pause. "And you shouldn't address me like that."
Merlin ignored him. "What were you dreaming about?"
Arthur turned his head. "Why should I tell you?"
"Because I can go tell Gaius you're having nightmares. He'll probably recommend the sleeping draught he gives Morgana. Morgana will probably notice that he's making double the portions, and she'll come to me. I'll probably tell her the truth." Merlin paused and examined his nails with a smirk. "And she'll probably tell Gwen."
Arthur narrowed his eyes, and Merlin could practically see the wheels turning in his head.
"You're evil."
Merlin nodded enthusiastically but didn't say anything. Silence reigned for a moment.
"It was about my mother. She… she died when I was very little. But I think you already knew that."
Merlin had.
"I… I used to get dreams—nightmares—when I was younger, but I stopped having them a long time ago. I don't know why…"
Arthur sat up.
"I don't know why I keep having them. I can't do anything to stop them."
Merlin sighed and got up. "I'll go get a sleeping draught from Gaius. Don't worry, I won't tell him why. In the meantime, eat." He walked towards Arthur's bedside and hesitantly placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder.
"It's not your fault."
Arthur swiped Merlin's hand off his shoulder and snorted. "Bring me some real breakfast before you come back. I won't eat fruit."
Merlin frowned. "But fruit's good for you."
"I've lived this long eating the bare minimum of my fruits and vegetables and I don't appear to be anywhere near death, now do I?" Arthur dragged Merlin to the door. "Now out. And you should probably get some breakfast too; you have a long day of mucking out stables ahead of you."
He closed the door before Merlin could as much as groan, and through the heavy wood he said: "Thanks, Merlin. I think that's what I needed to hear."
He just barely heard the reply.
"I know."
It's not his fault. It's not his fault. Not his fault not his fault not his… It's mine.
Yes, Mother. If you say so.