Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, dammit. *Sobs*. It belongs to BBC.
Notes: I found a prompt on KinkMe_Merlin. The meanings to the flowers may or may not be correct, I just found a site and stuck by it lol.
The language of Flowers
The first time they meet Merlin is holding a tall, thin bucket of stunning orange flowers, vivid petals slightly dotted with a darker hue and a small back tub of something. He is in the process of pinning open the door with the large bouquet of the flowers, stalls of a multitude of plants and a few readymade bouquets and herbs set either side of the door.
Arthur pauses. It's not the first time he has passed the flower shop 'Empress Flowers,' nor it is the first time he has ever set eyes on the only other employee – an attractive dark haired fellow he recognises vaguely from his school days (only two years gone but hazy nonetheless). It seems the shop – small, pretty and quaint – is a little out of place in the dreary streets of London, but it seems right to be there; it's a splash of colour in the otherwise mundane street clasped in the grey of Monday morning.
Drizzle threatens.
The boy, Merlin he will discover later, straightens in time to catch Arthur's gaze, still clutching the small plant pot. "Beautiful aren't they?" He asks quietly, a long finger reaching out to stroke a vivid petal. "Tiger lilies, they mean 'prosperity' in the language of flowers." Merlin then turns and looks at him with dazzling blue eyes and a wide smile. "We thought it would be appropriate."
Arthur nods his head, mouth a little dry as he watches the spark of interest in Merlin's eyes.
"That and they are bright and pretty – bound to attract people. This on the other hand," Merlin waves the plant pot, "is a lemon scented geranium. This means 'unexpected meetings' or something similar." Merlin grins at the plant, placing it on the stall and pushing it next to the others carefully.
Arthur managed to wet his mouth enough to croak out a "yeah" without too much trouble. Merlin rubs his red tinted cheek and gestures back into the store, smiling a little sheepishly. "Sorry. I'd best get back to work," he explains, still blushing nicely.
He has slipped back inside before Arthur can force out another lame "yeah."
Unexpected meetings indeed.
A few days later and they meet again. Merlin is now loading a tray of violets into a small green van with the name of the shop written on the side in calligraphy. He is leaning right into the van and Arthur drops his eyes for a moment to observe there mans' backside.
Not bad.
His eyes flick back up when Merlin half crawls back out, wiping his hands on his jeans and smearing soil across them. Arthur can spot the dirt under his nails, but it doesn't put him off. Knowing that Merlin works with his hands, that they might be rough but also skilled, sets a flare of desire right through his gut.
"Hey." Merlin beams at him as if he is genuinely happy to see him, which is a little ridiculous considering they only had a spare moment a few days ago.
(But it is not ridiculous to get up early so that you might be able to catch a few extra minutes with him, is it? his mind whispers traitorously.)
"Hi." A little less lame this time, Arthur congratulates himself and Merlin hauls a second tray of violets up onto the floor of the van.
"Violets," Merlin explains, pushing the tray forward, further inside the van. He has a soft smile on his face. "They mean affection or attraction." This blue eyes flick up to meet his own before dropping back to the other plants on the pavement, another faint blush threatening to stain his cheeks.
He ducks to grab another one, Arthur just barely catching a muttered "funny that, huh?"
Arthur smirks a little and, when Merlin and shoved in the next tray, he extends his hand. "I'm Arthur, Arthur Pendragon."
Merlin glances between Arthur clean hand and his own soiled one, back and forth, before scrubbing his palms on his jeans and taking the offered hand in a surprisingly firm grip.
"I know," he admits with a little self-conscious laugh. "You were a year ahead of me in school. Merlin Emrys. My mum owns this place." He jerks his head back at the shop needlessly.
Arthur smiles. "It's a nice place," he offers. "Been around a while."
Merlin nods, gazing up at the shop fondly. "Yeah. The name comes from my dad apparently, the 'empress' bit. Said Emrys sounds a bit like Empress and the nickname stuck." Merlin smiles. "It's mums' pride and joy."
Arthur opens his mouth to reply, when a petit brunette pops her head out of the door. She has Merlin's eyes and cheek bones, but her skin is a dark hue and her hair lighter. "Sorry, love, but I need that van loaded pretty sharpish." She looks apologetically at them both, as if she is genuinely sorry that she has to disrupt their conversation.
"Sure mum," Merlin answers easily and the woman, Hunith, ducks back inside. Merlin turns back to Arthur with a small apologetic shrug. "Sorry."
Arthur shakes his head. "It's fine." He looks down at his watch and sighs. "I should be getting the train soon anyway." He looks up at Merlin. "I'll catch you later?"
It hadn't meant to come out as a question, a little uncertain but Merlin's smile brightens.
"Sure. Of course," he replies eagerly before blinking and hiding his embarrassment behind a cough. "Whenever. Later. Um... yeah."
Arthur is still chuckling on the train fifteen minutes later.
The next time Arthur catches Merlin at the shop, he is on his way home from college rather than on his way too it. Merlin and he have been spending more time together away from flowers and the shop, just hanging around, and getting to know each other.
This time, Merlin is behind the counter inside the shop. It's just past two, and there are two customers milling around the store, taking in the flowers. Merlin is wrapping up a cute, small bouquet of periwinkles in the cellophane wrap, a strip of baby blue ribbon beside his elbow, waiting to be tied.
"So, periwinkles, huh?" Merlin glances up from his work, nimble fingers tying a bow with practiced perfection.
"A woman's friend has just given birth to a baby boy," he says, gathering up the bouquet and setting it off to the stand to the side, waiting to be picked up. "She thought blue flowers would be appropriate."
Merlin keeps on eye on the customers and another on him, and Arthur feels just the slightest twinge of annoyance that he doesn't have the man's' full attention but can't really fault him.
"What do they really mean?"
One of the potential customers leaves. Merlin pauses for a moment, thinking. "Well, as you know, meanings vary from book to book, but it is basically a flower of friendship."
"They're a nice shade of blue-"
"Sorry, excuse me." The remaining customer, a greying man, with broad shoulders and a worn coat but warm eyes. "Can I get these please? Yellow roses, the wife's favourite," he confides.
Merlin smiles. "Of course. Good choice, yellow roses mean joy and friendship. I can add a few red if you want, they are, of course, a universal symbol of love."
Arthur leaves as Merlin talks flowers and meanings with the gentleman, charming him with the language of flowers that so many are ignorant of, thoughts of periwinkle blue in comparison to Merlin's eyes mostly forgotten.
And if there is another flare of momentary jealousy, well, yellow roses are still best known for friendship.
The third time Merlin feels the need to explain the meaning of a flower, Hunith has lead Arthur out into the backroom. There are flowers and moulds and stands and ribbon everywhere. The worktable is high and littered with slips of coloured ribbon and slices of cellophane, scissors gape open and off cuts are spread on the floor.
Merlin is gazing absently at what even Arthur can recognise as a purple pansy. It's a beautiful example of the flower, small, sweet and vivid in its colour, not unlike the bright orange of the tiger lilies outside.
"Merlin?"
"Hmm? Oh, hi Arthur. I thought we weren't meeting up until after."
Arthur steps closer, and eyes the purple ribbon tied around the cheap plant pot and the card that lies on the table. He narrows his eyes at it – those aren't the same cards that 'Empress Flowers' offer with their own bouquets.
Something unpleasant coils in Arthur's gut.
"Yours?"
Merlin makes a thoughtful noise. "Yeah, an old...friend sent it." There is a small furrow in Merlin's brow that Arthur can't decide is a good or bad thing.
"What do pansies mean?"
The question rouses Merlin a little and he straightens, gaze penetrating as he studies his friend. Arthur avoids his gaze, eyes fixed on the offending plant in front of him. "Generally, just thoughtfulness, but he wants me to know that, more specifically, I am in his thoughts." Merlin chews on his lip for a moment before he stands suddenly, hand around Arthur's wrist as he drags him away.
"But no matter, it's unimportant." Merlin's smile is bright but his eyes confused and a little conflicted. Arthur swallows the urge to crush the plant that is now behind him on the table. Thinking of him, huh?
Well, mystery man, Merlin isn't only on your thoughts and Arthur isn't going to give Merlin the chance to look so conflicted and confused over him or any flower he may send.
Thoughts aren't enough.
Yellow carnations are his damnation. Merlin is holding them, unloading them from the delivery truck when Arthur kisses him. Merlin half chucks the flowers onto the tabletop but it otherwise motionless before he twists away, eyes blown wide with shock and confusion and –
Well.
That is enough to tell Arthur that he has over stepped the mark. He turns on his heel and disappears without a word, not leaving quickly enough to miss a quiet, unreadable: "yellow carnations. Rejection."
It's some time before Arthur can even bear to pass the flower shop, opting instead for the longer journey through the backstreets and across the park and the one time he does, weeks after the disastrous kissing incident, Merlin runs into him, holding a plant pot with two types of flower in that don't really go together. One is a collection of strange orange pink flowers and the other a collection of purple flowers that create an almost oblong shape.
Arthur startles and tenses, ready to flee should anything unpleasant happen. Merlin looks shifty, nervous and apologetic all at once and Arthur prays this isn't a pity apology coming his way, a gentle let-down.
He wishes he woke on time this morning.
"Arthur." His voice is small and quiet, which is so unlike Merlin, who doesn't know what quiet is if it danced naked in front of him wearing a cloak of ivy.
"Merlin." He forces it out, and with the word, the humiliation that threatens to choke him.
Merlin shifts from foot to foot. "About a few weeks ago, that kiss –"
Arthur holds up his hand. "Please don't." It is less authoritative then he wanted, but he can't listen to his.
"No wait, please." Merlin has grabbed into his jacket sleeve with his free hand. His eyes are sharp ion their nervousness and desperation and Arthur sighs.
"Fine."
Merlin's smile is quick, relieved and small. He offers the plant pot to Arthur. "Hyacinth," he whispers, gesturing to the purple one when Arthur takes it. "It means to ask for forgiveness. And the Ambrosia is... well, it means that l-love is reciprocated..."
There is a heartbeat of silence, where Arthur feels his world close in on himself before expanding in an explosion of joy and an unsteady relief.
"I can't take these to college, Merlin."
Merlin nods his head. "I know. I can... well I can keep them in the backroom if you want and you can come and get them when you are finished... if you want."
Arthur smiles, ducking forward to lean his forehead against Merlin's and looking into his eyes. "I want."
Merlin locking up when Arthur appears with an odd bouquet. He stares down at it, taking it carefully before peering up at Arthur with a questioning look.
"You do know what these mean, don't you?"
Arthur grins. "Well, the roses are pretty damn obvious."
Merlin rolls his eyes. "And the grass?"
"Homosexual love and submission."
"I thought you didn't- do that. Didn't like it. You know what you are asking? Are you sure?"
Arthur looks a little affronted. "Of course.
Merlin beams up at his boyfriend before pulling him down to kiss him senseless. Breathlessly, he replies, "Good." Merlin turns to check the door one last time. "Let's go home then."
When the roses and grass wither and die, Arthur replaces them with a small smile.
Just in case you didn't know, yellow roses can, according to my one source, also mean jealousy.