The Untold Tale of Camelot

A/N: Co-written with Dyly and Suba

If you were gay, I'd shout hooray! ~ Nicky (Avenue Q)

Arthur cursed when his elbow hit the bedpost as he heard a giggle from the body beneath him. Cocking an eyebrow, he brought his now slightly throbbing arm back down to the bed, practically pinning the black-haired beauty down. He stared deep into the face, taking in the faint blush with an amused look before both of their mouths met for an intense and passionate kiss. Arthur deepened the kiss and let out a moan as he felt the eager bite on his lip, his hand curled into soft black hair.

Outside they could hear the soft patter of raindrops against the terracotta courtyard floor. That was where this afternoon's coronation was to be held. Where Arthur acknowledged and accepted his responsibilities as Prince and future king of Camelot. This afternoon would also be when Arthur would be officially burdened with the rules and restrictions of being a prince, instead of it being just an unofficial strain. But not just yet. Right now, he wanted to be a regular teenager making out with a really hot person in his bedroom. Nothing could interrupt this intimacy.

As if on cue, a loud bang was heard as the great wooden door to Arthur's chamber slammed open.

'What the-' Arthur nearly fell off his bed in his hasty attempt to lift himself off the object of his passion. He watched with an annoyed and horrified expression as Merlin strolled in, dripping wet and carrying a heap of armour that covered virtually half of his face. Completely oblivious to the murderous intentions Arthur was directing at him at this very moment, Merlin dropped the armour with a ringing clamour on the table. Turning around, he began with a grin,

'Just bringing some clean arm-'

Merlin stopped short as he saw a strikingly beautiful raven-haired girl getting off Arthur's bed, her face bright red.

'Oh' was all he could manage.

Glancing at Arthur, he could see a faint pink beginning to creep up his neck. Merlin's own ears went bright red as tried not to imagine just what he'd walked in on. Arthur was first to regain some composure.

'Merlin,' he said in a formal but somewhat shaky voice, 'I believe you know Lady Avilia.'

Of course, thought Merlin icily. Lady Avilia and her father, Duke Rainier of Sessoin were good friends with King Uther Pendragon and were visiting. In the three days that Lady Avilia had been at Camelot, she had managed to catch the eye of nearly every knight, not least that of the prince. From what he'd heard of her, the Lady was as sweet and warm as honey; never stepped on anybody's toes – not even Morgana's, thought Merlin dryly. And Morgana was easily irked. No Lady Avilia was perfect according to most. Yet for some reason she irritated the hell out of Merlin and more annoyingly so, he didn't know why.

Perhaps it's because I've always sensed that coy, flirtatious nature of hers that's pretty much been displayed to me vividly just now, was his half-joking rationalisation.

'Milady,' he inclined his head curtly at her as she sped out of the door, but not before giving Arthur one last secretive smile. This caused Merlin to grit his teeth in irritation. Unbelievable, he thought, she flirts when I could easily disgrace her to the whole court! His prickly thoughts were interrupted by Arthur's loud words.

'Merlin, you've got to be the most annoying manservant in the history of Camelot! I really don't think anyone could possible have worse timing than you. Would it kill you to knock before stomping into my room like a dragon in an armoury?'

'Apologies sire, but perhaps if his highness made an effort to control his indiscretions then there would be no need to knock,' was Merlin's heated reply. As an afterthought, he added coolly, 'I wonder what the Duke would say if he finds out that his sweet innocent daughter is slowly being corrupted by his royal highness?'

Arthur glared at Merlin, ignoring the jolt he felt when his eyes met Merlin's fierce blue ones. He quickly attributed that to his sudden rage.

'You wouldn't dare!' he growled and Merlin couldn't help noticing how strong and intense his voice was. How…manly, he thought. Definitely worthy of a king.

'You know my father would kill me if he heard about this.' Arthur continued.

'Well it's about time someone put some wisdom into that over inflated empty head of yours.' Merlin heatedly retorted.

Arthur took a step closer, making Merlin break out into cold sweat, as his heart sped up. 'I'd pummel you into wet tissue before you could even utter the words "your majesty." Believe me you do not want to go to the Duke or King.' Arthur threatened in a low voice, sending shivers down Merlin's spine.

It took all of Merlin's self-control not to utter four simple (gaelic/celtic?) words that would actually turn Arthur into wet tissue. Remember your destiny, the Dragon's voice echoed in his mind. True, though Merlin ruefully. Arthur wouldn't serve well as a king in a soppy, mushy state. Aesthetically he looked better as a human. Much better in fact, Merlin thought as his eyes travelled from Arthur's to the tight set of his jaw. With a sigh Merlin nodded stiffly and Arthur relaxed. Merlin pointed to the table,

'Your armour for the coronation, sire,' then turned to leave.

'Oh and Merlin,' Arthur began, 'next time use those big ears of yours to tell you if a room is safe to enter. Don't want to be walking in on something you don't want to see, again.' He grinned a wolfish grin. Merlin bowed his head,

'Of course,' he replied easily, 'and perhaps I can bring you a pin when I do come back.'

At Arthur's confused look he elaborated, 'you know, to deflated that big head of yours. You do have to be able to wear the crown at your coronation.'

With that, Merlin legged it out of the room a he let Arthur absorb the taunt. Just then a thought occurred to him,

Arthur said my ears are big, he thought with a smile, as he leaned against the door to Arthur's room. On the other side of the door, Arthur had a similar goofy grin on his face. He said I had a big head! Both prince and manservant were wondering if that meant anything. Thus ended a tense morning pleasantly. Suddenly it looked like a bright afternoon for a coronation.