Note: written for a prompt at Kinks of Camelot on LiveJournal!
"Mmmagic."
Arthur stirred. Was it that time of night again?
"Gaius told me... mugwort to dragons."
Arthur propped himself up on one elbow and watched Merlin shake his head, sound asleep. More nights than not he got woken up by Merlin spouting utter rubbish as he slept, and if Arthur had any other choice, he wouldn't give this up for the world.
"Hello, Merlin," Arthur whispered, tracing Merlin's mouth with his fingertips.
"Arthur," said Merlin, surprisingly clear. Arthur felt a twinge of guilt as he observed the individual lashes on Merlin's cheeks; he'd run Merlin ragged that day and in a fit of pique aimed a (thankfully empty) jug of wine at him in front of his father and all the court's nobles.
"Prat," Merlin muttered, and maybe Arthur wasn't that sorry after all.
"Stupid, rude, mean prat."
"Why, thank you," said Arthur, but he was smiling.
"I don't know why Mum loves him so much, Gaius," mumbled Merlin, throwing up his arms and nearly smacking Arthur in the face, who swerved out of reach. "She said... I need him."
Of course Hunith loved him. Who didn't love Arthur?
"Hm... no, Kilgharrah was more of an arse than usual today."
"Really?" muttered Arthur. "Didn't think that was possible."
Merlin laughed, a silly, drunken giggle that warmed Arthur all the way down to his toes.
"Arthur."
"Yes, my love." Foolproof way to check if Merlin was awake; if he were, he'd never let Arthur live saying "my love" down.
"So handsome," Merlin sighed.
Arthur preened slightly.
"See his eyes glow... put a torch next to his ear."
Arthur snorted despite himself, and pinched Merlin's cheek gently. "Insolent little thing," he whispered. His arm had begun to ache, so he rested his head on the pillow again, watching Merlin in profile, lit up by moonlight from the window.
Merlin rolled over to face Arthur, cheek crushed, mouth half-open against the pillow, and let out a soft snore. Arthur fell in love all over again.
"Gwen," Merlin complained, still sound asleep, throwing a leg across Arthur's thighs. "Arthur was Arthur again."
Arthur was a regular feature in these nightly soliloquies of Merlin. More often than not the only feature in these (utter rubbish) soliloquies, and Merlin usually sang his praises in them, interspersing the sweetness with fond insults. It was something with which Arthur cheered himself up when drill went particularly badly or his father was in one of his awful moods.
"Gwen," Merlin repeated, pressing closer to Arthur, who gladly gathered him into his arms.
"Merlin?" said Arthur in a passable imitation of Gwen's voice.
"I love Arthur." Merlin made a kissy face.
"Hurrah," said Arthur in his Gwen voice, and pecked Merlin on the lips. "He loves you, too."
"Shiny prat," Merlin muttered again, and smiled. Arthur kissed the top of his head. Merlin jerked.
"Sleep, my love," Arthur whispered, stroking the side of Merlin's face, and froze as Merlin snorted. Just a tiny bit. Merlin's lips pressed together and his eyelids squeezed closer together and his shoulders quivered and oh, no, Arthur was in for it tomorrow morning.
"Shut up," he warned Merlin, who didn't open his eyes.
"I didn't say anything," said Merlin, shaking with suppressed laughter.
Arthur flicked Merlin on the forehead and drifted back to sleep peacefully, sensing Merlin's fingers in his hair. They didn't move away from each other the entire night.