There were some orders he had become accustomed to – that he once would have argued against and Arthur would have taken pleasure in giving, but were now almost like jokes between them:
"My armor, Merlin, be sure to polish my armor! Sharpen my sword!" Merlin would always keep the sword sharp – the armor in top condition – since he now understood fully how important these things were to keeping Arthur alive.
"Fix my lances. And that tunic – mend it properly this time." The lances did still annoy him – but he was now skilled enough they took little time to repair. And, his tunic – Arthur only tore it purposefully to make bandages for Merlin, like his first battle wound.
"Do shut up, Merlin." Even this one. Yes, occasionally it did still mean shut your mouth and keep it shut, but it also often meant 'I acknowledge your advice is sound but I'm future king and can't actually seem to take a servant's word to heart' or 'My father is walking right towards us and if you keep talking, it'll be the stocks for you.'
"Draw up a bath, would you?" Merlin actually enjoyed this one now –he took the time to adjust the spell to the way Arthur liked. Always with a bucket of hot and cold, safely out of Arthur's potential reach, ready to adjust the temperature.
Those hand signals and head gestures. The first time Merlin did as he was told, Arthur had been so shocked he had stood up with a smile across his face – shouting, "Merlin!" – alerting the bandits to their presence. He later blamed Merlin.
And then there were those orders he hated – that he could see coming by the swagger in Arthur's step as he approached and the smirk just barely dancing across his lips.
"Muck out my horses, Merlin." This was a job for the stableboys, who would instead giggle in the loft above him as he worked - playing dice and gossiping about court ladies.
"Fill uh m'cup, Meeeeeeerlin-lin-lin. Ta th'brimmmm!" And there it was. With a subtle nod to the King, he would heft the drunken prat onto his shoulder and slowly lead him from the room.
"The ceremonial robes, Meeer-lin." Only in the cold of winter, when all could be seen of him was bright eyes peeking out of a mound of blankets and furs on the bed and when the storms outside kept him from training.
"Get your helmet on, Merlin; I need some combat practice today." Merlin never understood why his knights weren't good enough. Well, yes, he did understand they wouldn't fall over so often and make Arthur laugh so much. Clotpole.
"Run, you idiot!" Of course Merlin would run; he was already running – the bandits bursting out of the trees had been enough for him to start.
But, last and best of all were the orders that made a smile break out on his face and his toes curl slightly in his boots – that caused him to think each time that, yes indeed, this was the man he would love to serve and protect for the rest of his life.
"Sit down and eat, Merlin." On days Merlin hadn't had a chance to eat anything since breakfast and Arthur somehow knew – and ordered extra for dinner.
"Merlin, take the day off. Looking at you makes me feel sore!" This only came when he was limping around or wincing after fighting such-and-such sorcerer the previous night and had been thrown into a wall. Several times.
"Undress me, Merlin." Eventually said in such a way that was no longer 'The honor, Merlin, the honor' and more 'thank you.'
"To bed with you! And keep your cold feet to yourself!" On the coldest winter evenings when his cot in Gaius' room would have been unbearable.
And his most favorite of all – low and rough in his ears, the vibrations trembling through his chest from his back:
"Come for me, Merlin."
AN: Haven't written anything in a long time and decided to start back with my first Merlin fanfiction – hope you all enjoy!
Please review if you like!
Disclaimer: Not my personal property and I take no property claims to the show/characters.