Beautiful
*.*.*.*.*
The prince of Camelot was a prat. A spoiled, stubborn, arrogant prat that Merlin wanted nothing to do with.
Obviously.
Having to be his manservant might have been the worst thing to ever happen to Merlin, actually, and, if it wasn't for the damn dragon and Gaius and "destiny," Merlin might have left for home, for Ealdor, moments after being "awarded" his new job, just to avoid it all, just to avoid the misery he was sure that would come of being Arthur's manservant.
But. There he was, day in and day out, working for the prat—the incessant, arrogant, idiotic brute of a prat who wouldn't know compassion or good humor when he heard it or if it bit him in the rear-end.
But okay, Merlin would admit within a few rare moments of insanity some days, it wasn't exactly the worst job in the world; it was certainly better than all the other jobs he could have been stuck with. And okay, maybe Arthur was an arrogant, useless, prat, but…
He was attractive, Merlin would give him that. He was an ass, but an attractive one. Merlin might even take it a step further to say he was…
Beautiful.
Not because he was Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, but… because he just was. He was stupid and stubborn and probably the most beautiful person Merlin had ever seen.
Maybe it was his hair, the way it was golden and glowing and might have been made of the sun itself.
Or his eyes, blue and clear and almost gentle and soft, under the right lighting.
Or perhaps it was his smile, when he allowed himself a carefree one, that made Merlin smile as well, made something stir within him when it was directed at him…
Arthur was beautiful.
That was all there was to it. He was an ass, but a beautiful one, and maybe that made the job worth it. That might have made Merlin sound shallow—and he was willing to admit that maybe he was, every once in a while—but then… as time went by, and Arthur began to show his true colors... Well, Merlin began to decide, maybe he was an ass, but he was also brave and loyal and noble and cared for his people, for the future of his kingdom…
He had the makings of a fine ruler, Merlin could see that—if no one else could see that just yet, then Merlin could, at least—and Merlin was sure, in time, he would make a fine one indeed, if he ever stopped being a complete ass.
In the meantime, Merlin would admit, many times over to himself, that Arthur was beautiful.
He would even be willing to admit, some days, that perhaps just as much inside as outside.
*.*.*.*.*