30 Day Writing Challenge
Day Three: Name
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur Pendragon/Merlin
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin
Name
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Turning over in his bed and sinking down slightly, it took Merlin a moment to understand where he was as he felt the difference between the harsh fibres of the bedding he'd used in the past and the soft ones of his new sheets. The difference between the mattress was clear as day as well, plush and soft where his old one had been closer to a soft brick. For a moment he let himself wallow in the comfort of his new chambers before he finally forced his eyes open, blinking away what was left of his sleepiness.
As expected it wasn't even time for the sun to rise yet but he was already wide awake after years of practice of waking early to prepare things for Arthur.
Groaning at his own situation, Merlin pushed himself up and proceeded to get ready for yet another day.
It had been weeks since Arthur had over turned the ban on magic and made it legalised and it still didn't feel like it was real yet.
Even worse though, was his new position.
Court Sorcerer.
It was an honour that Merlin had honestly never even imagined receiving and from the first moment he'd been given the position everything around him had changed.
Most noticeably had been the change in titles. In names. In the way people called him.
He'd long since given up on getting the druids to treat him more like any other person, but it was jarring to walk down a hallway and have the servants that he used to smile and wave at, or gossip with briefly all bow to him and call him "Lord Merlin", and it was even more ridiculous when the knights (particularly Gwaine because he thought it was hilarious) would do the same thing, treating him like he was someone special, someone that they should respect.
It was weird and he really wished he could convince them to stop.
At least it was only joking when the knights did it though. Going down to the lower town like he had before was unbearable. People bowed at him. Bowed.
Groaning, Merlin huffed at the memory as he pulled on the last of his clothing for the day and exited his room.
Humming to himself quietly as he walked down the corridor, he smirked a little at the memory of doing this same things for Arthur so many times before.
Perhaps he'd feel better if he decided to go and bother the king himself instead.
Detouring towards the kitchens, he sighed when he received familiar nods and bows and hastened his pace.
Catching George preparing to deliver Arthur's breakfast, he grinned and picked up a plate from nearby for himself with some bread and cheese.
"George! You needn't worry about taking this to the King. I have some business to speak with him about so I'll be sure to deliver it while I'm there." Merlin informed him, taking the tray off of the manservant before he could comment and placing his own plate on it precariously.
"I can hardly let you do that, Lord Merlin." George denied quickly, reaching to take I back with narrowed eyes.
There was that name again.
"Nonsense. You are aware that I did this for many years aren't you. It's no bother. Take a bit of the morning to yourself for a change." He insisted, grinning and turning to walk to Arthur's room before George could argue further.
Reaching the familiar door, he pushed it open without a single knock, rolling his eyes at the familiar sight of Arthur sprawled out across the sheets, snoring away.
Placing the tray for Arthur's breakfast down, along with his own, he moved over to the curtains, the familiar tasks soothing him as he flicked them open to reveal the rising sun and snickered at the groan he got from his King.
"Rise and shine!"
He made sure that his voice was as chipper as possible as he grinned over towards Arthur who gave a groan of irritation and rolled over before seeming to wake up a bit more.
"Merlin?" He mumbled, eyes opening for a moment before he shut them against the light.
"Not at all Sire. I'm clearly George." He couldn't help but snark, chuckling and using his magic to stop it as a pillow went flying towards his face.
"It's too early in the morning for you to pretend that you're funny, Merlin." Arthur groused.
And there it was. Suddenly all the different nuances and additions to his name didn't feel nearly as heavy as he listened to Arthur speak his name the same way he had three weeks ago, and the same way he had for years before it.
He could deal with everything else as long as his King didn't change how he treated Merlin.
"You think it's too early in the morning for anything." He reminds. "But if you don't get up I'm going to eat your breakfast on you and then you'll have to figure out if it's too early to try and catch a wayward warlock."
Making his way over to the table, he picked up a piece of bread from his own plate (not that Arthur would notice) and took a pointed bite when the king didn't move, eyes narrowed towards him.
"I'm beginning to wonder once again if you know remember who I am."
Merlin titled his head in deliberate confusion. "Of course I know who you are."
It was so much like that time so many years ago and he couldn't help but smirk.
"Well then, good." Arthur unknowingly mimicked himself making Merlin smirk even more.
"You're a prat. And a royal one – just so that you know I haven't forgotten sire."
The blonde shook his head, recognising the words finally as he forced himself from his bed with sure movements, strutting towards his friend as he continued to eat away at his food.
"You can't speak to me like that Merlin." He admonished, reaching over to pick up a piece of sweet meat and noting that there was an extra plate. Only Merlin would invite himself to breakfast with the king in the most unorthodox way possible.
Merlin gave him a familiar look, defiance clear as he titled his head and stood tall. "What are you going to do about it?" He goaded, smirking, pronouncing the next few syllables clearly and one by one. "Prat."
Huffing, Arthur took a sip from the water in his goblet before rolling is eyes at Merlin's grin. That just wasn't acceptable. Lord though Merlin may be, he couldn't have the people thinking it was acceptable to address him like that.
As if he'd ever stopped merlin before.
Leaning up (because of course Merlin was just that little bit taller than him) he let his face be just millimetres away from Merlin's, a smirk of his own forming.
"Shut up, Merlin."
And before the other man could reply he closed the final distance, pressing his lips against the other's softly, content in the fact that – for once – he'd gotten the final word.
And if they both spent the rest of the day in a better mood than usual, well, no-one needed to know why.