Author's note: I am really happy to see people like my story. It glues this ridiculous grin to my face that makes my family question my sanity. So, thank you all for your support.
You'll find fluffy, romantic, humorous goodies in this one, with a dash of plot-bunny twists.
I do not own BBC Merlin, I'm just a fan with an appalling amount of imagination. Writing is a delicious guilty pleasure.
Wait, before you read, I have a soundtrack for this chapter: Never Be Alone – Nickelback.
I heard it today on the radio while driving to the mall. I wanted to buy a prom dress. I ended up with a new a waste-bin, a blanket, a crocodile plushy, a candle, lots of duct-tape and a head full of cute scenes for this chapter. I'm cool like that. C:
Enjoy.
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"Are you sure there are no other chores left?" Merlin asks, trying to disguise his discomfort with a light cough.
Elaine makes a quiet humming sound, thoughtful. "Well, let's see, Arthur' can eat off his chambers' floors today, if the mood were to strike him, his armour would pass off as a mirror, and I swear the stables' floors sparkled when we were done with them." She counts the done chores on her fingers, making sure they haven't missed anything.
They are standing at the royal kennel, surrounded by growling, barking and an unpleasantly potent wet dog smell. To the young warlock, none of these things seem very encouraging.
"Which one's Arthur's?"
"That one." Merlin points towards a separate enclosed area in the far back of the room, and visibly shudders.
"Is it really that bad?"
He nods.
"Come on, Merlin, I'm sure we can manage to walk one dog. It can't be worse than working in the stables."
"At least horse excrement doesn't bite," he murmurs.
"So much for encouragement, then."
Elaine nibbles on her lip. It's a nervous habit of hers and a very distracting one at that, because every time she does it, Merlin can't help but stare. He keeps remembering how nice she felt pressed against his side by the window, and he can't help but wonder what those lips would feel like against his.
The thought's been haunting him for longer than he would be comfortable to admit, even to himself. He tries not to think about her all the time, but keeps failing miserably. It's come so far, it's starting to affect his actions. His mind all but stops working when she smiles or – even worse – when she glances at him from under her eyelashes before tucking her hair behind her ear.
This brings him to another problem – her hair. It keeps falling into her eyes, most of the time hiding them from him completely, and it's driving him crazy. Because every time she does it, he has to either cross his hands or fist his palms, to prevent himself from reaching over and brushing them away so that he can see her face. Okay, and he also sort of wants to touch it, because it looks really soft and sleek and-
"Merlin?"
Elaine waves a hand before him, looking concerned. She must have called him at least twice already, judging by her raised voice.
"Huh?"
"I was asking if you were ready," she repeats, and Merlin blushes, knowing he probably seemed like a complete idiot, spacing out like that.
"Not really," he admits, making her grin.
"C'mon. Let's get this over with," she prompts, trying to sound cheerful. She grabs hold of his jacket and tugs the reluctant warlock forward.
They hardly make it half way towards the fence keeping Arthur's hound restrained, when a massive body slams against the bars, rattling them like they were toothpicks. The assault is accompanied by a fair amount of barking and growling that sends chills down Merlin's spine. Even Elaine, who previously seemed to take their task with stride, slows down her pace.
"Still think it's not so bad?" Merlin inquires and cranes his neck, to peek over the quivering fence. Elaine tightens her hold on his jacket, and despite the situation, Merlin's lips curve upwards.
The fence shakes again, this time they can both glimpse at a snout and a snapping jaw.
"Opinions change," she mumbles, but steps closer non the less.
Merlin follows her and watches as she crouches down right before the doors of the kennel. The look on her face is more fascinated than it is afraid, and as she takes a good look at the hound behind the fence, her lips slowly stretch into a lazy smile.
She seems very small and thin, compared to Arthur's enormous bloodhound, and Merlin feels a strong urge to yank her away from the kennel.
"Maybe we should come back later."
He waits for her response, but she remains silent. Confused, Merlin kneels down some distance away from her and cocks his head to the side to examine her face.
"Elaine?"
There's a certain look in her eyes that sends an uneasy feeling down his spine. It's somewhat smug and a bit – he searches for the right word to describe it – scheming. It seems as though she is about to do something foolish and potentially dangerous. Merlin feels the urge to rub his eyes, because what he is seeing can't possibly be right, can it?
He's proved wrong when she reaches a hand right through the bars.
His heart stops in his chest for a second. He has no time to utter spells or pull her away, all he can do is helplessly watch the dog charge towards her.
"Elaine, no!"
He looks away, unable to watch, because he is sure her arm will be yanked right off and there is nothing he can do to save her. Seconds pass and he keeps waiting for the screams to start, but there are none. Instead, he hears a tiny little giggle. It's so incompatible with what he's been expecting, he is sure his mind is playing tricks on him.
"It's safe to look, Merlin."
To say he is baffled by her light and teasing tone of voice, is a severe understatement, because she doesn't sound like someone who has just been attached by a ferocious beast that's been trained to kill since it was a puppy. He finally looks up to see Elaine is still unharmed. If anything, she looks quite pleased with herself and he soon finds out why. Arthur's dog is no longer barking and growling, but cautiously sniffing her outstretched palm.
Merlin's jaw drops in bewilderment and as if to add to his shock, the hound nudges her gently, then rubs its head against her hand.
"How...?" he starts, shaking his head in disbelief.
"I can be very likeable, given the opportunity," she chuckles, but seeing him arch an eyebrow, she reconsiders her answer. "Plus, a calming spell never hurts."
Elaine ruffles the fur on the dog's head and it wages a tail in response. Merlin beams, because – magic or not – she just petted Arthur's bloodhound like it were a little puppy, and got to keep all her fingers.
"I've never seen anyone besides Arthur ever touch that dog and get away with it. It even growls at Uther."
"Well," she drawls, "can you blame the poor creature?"
Merlin gives her a look that questions her sanity.
"What?"
"That thing bit off three of Arthur's last servant's fingers, and you're calling it a poor thing?"
Elaine's eyes roll so theatrically Merlin is surprised they don't fly out of their sockets and hit him in the head, but the expression on her face is so playful, he can't hold it against her.
"Merlin," she says, in an appallingly brilliant imitation of Arthur, "Shut up and pass me the leash."
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"This isn't so bad, now is it?"
Elaine glances at Merlin from the corner of her eye, gauging his reaction. They have long since left the gates of Camelot behind, and are slowly strolling through the woods. The path is narrow and since it takes their combined strength to keep Arthur's dog in check, they are walking side by side, so close they occasionally bump into one another.
They've stopped apologising for it quite some time ago.
Since Merlin could only find one leash, they are both holding on to it, and she is so acutely aware of his hand, so close to hers, she is tingling all over. Although their sides have brushed together so many times she's lost count, they've both been very careful to make sure their hands haven't touched.
The almost-but-not-entirely non-existent distance is killing her.
He is right next to her, so close that if she reached out, she could brush her fingers against those incredible cheekbones she cannot get out of her head. And he's smiling, which means there's a chance he's enjoying this, too.
"It has its perks," he answers, his smile so wide, his facial muscles are starting to hurt. "Fresh air, exercise, no prat prince with a superiority complex~"
You, he adds in his mind.
Elaine chuckles. "You don't have to pretend, Merlin. I know the banter is only for show. He considers you a friend, a confidant."
"Yeah, that would explain why I spend most of my time mucking his horses," he deflects with a light snort.
"He's a little rough around the edges," she phrases delicately, breathing out a little laugh, "but you'll smooth those out eventually. He'll make a good king."
"You like him, then?" Merlin asks before he can stop himself, his voice sounding strangely strained.
Elaine picks up on the change and her brow furrows in confusion. She's not sure what to make of the expression on his face, but answers his question, regardless. "He's a good man. Kind-hearted and just, Camelot is lucky to have him."
Of course she likes him, Merlin thinks bitterly. Half of the kingdom's population is smitten with Arthur. He's a prince and that is reason enough for girls to fall to his feet. Merlin's chest tightens painfully and he glances at the ground beneath his boots. Why would she like him, a mere servant boy, when she can fall for royalty.
"Merlin, is something wrong?"
Elaine's voice is quiet and concerned and she stops, so she can get a good look at him. All his cheerfulness is gone and his smile is so forced, seeing it makes her stomach tingle ominously.
"Have I upset you? Is it something I've said?"
"No, of course not," he mumbles, but his answer is too quick, too defensive to be truthful.
He really wishes he could explain his reaction, but he can't. What is he supposed to say anyway?
I really like you and can't stop thinking about you, but you obviously like Arthur, so I'm just going to crawl under a rock and wallow in misery – preferably after throttling Arthur in his sleep, and hopefully one day forget this embarrassing conversation ever happened?
Merlin thinks that might not be one of his better options.
"It is, isn't it?" Elaine presses gently. "Was it what I said about Arthur?"
He doesn't answer, his eyes glued to his boots like they are the most fascinating thing on the planet. She doesn't understand his reaction, or its cause, but he looks really worked up and she feels lost, because she doesn't know what to do to fix what she's broken. She doesn't know what exactly it is, but something tells her it cannot be repaired with a quick magic trick.
"I'm really sorry," she bursts, talking so fast her words are an incoherent buzz. "I didn't mean to upset you, I just...babble sometimes. It's a nervous habit, not that you make me nervous or anything. Not in a bad way anyway. I-"
"Elaine."
She's stumbling over her words and making unnecessary hand gestures and maybe invading his personal space, but she's too distracted to notice.
"I... what I'm trying to say is, whatever it is I did, I... I'll make it alright. You just have to tell me what to do to fix this, because I'm sort of new in this friendship thing and-"
"E-Elaine!"
It's not the volume, but the panic in his voice that finally breaks through to her enough to stop her rant.
"Yes?"
"You let go of the leash."
"I what?"
Merlin has no chance to repeat, because Arthur's bloodhound chooses that very same moment to break into an excited sprint. The young warlock tries to hold him back, but it's a mute point and the only thing he manages to do, is leave furrows in the ground with his boots.
"Oh no, I let go of the leash!"
The consequences of her actions finally dawn on Elaine, but it's too late. She gives re-grabing the leash a fair try, but her hand ends up closing around thin air. Merlin hardly has enough time to yelp in surprise, before the dog drags him off in a mad dash the warlock has no chance of keeping up with for long.
The two disappear in the shrubbery, before Elaine can as much as blink in surprise. She remains glued to her spot for several dragging moments, before she finally comes to terms with Merlin being dragged away by one of the hugest dogs she's ever seen, and it is all her fault.
Oh crap!
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"No, ugh, stop it, ew!"
The dog pays Merlin no heed and licks a slimy, smelly path from his chin all the way up to his hairline, with a tongue that feels like sandpaper. The hound towers above him, front paws digging into the warlock's shoulders with its entire weight, tail waging like there is no tomorrow.
Merlin does not appreciate the attention.
Well, it could be worse, he supposes, the dog could be trying to kill him.
"Merlin!"
He hears rather than sees Elaine run onto the clearing and he tries to twist his head around enough to look at her. Surprisingly, the dog is willing to cooperate and pulls back a few inches. Still sprawled on the floor, Merlin can finally shift enough to observe Elaine catch her breath.
She is half doubled over, breath escaping her in uneven pants, while one of her hands is clutched to her aching side. Her heartbeat is erratic, and her lungs are burning from her run. She is used to running, but not such long distances and at such a pace.
She tried her best to keep up with them, but the dog was much too fast for her and her heart went out to poor Merlin, who got dragged behind him, because she'd been dumb enough to let go of the leash.
She finally composes herself and straightens up, visibly relieved when she notices Merlin is unharmed. True, he is flattened against a meadow by a humongous bloodhound, looking like someone who's just experienced a tiny bit of hell, but she could see no injuries or possible threats that could endanger his life. Except for his blush on his face, which looks potentially fatal even after the dog retreats to explore the bushes nearby.
"I'm so so sorry, Merlin!" Elaine exclaims, rushing towards him. "I should have been more careful I never should have-oh!"
Merlin tries to warn her about the root sticking from the ground, but her foot catches on it before he can get a word out. He sees her eyes bulge in surprise and she stops mid sentence. She hardly has the time to scream and then she is falling.
Merlin has little time to prepare himself for the impact, because he is mostly busy with watching her stumble forward in a very ungraceful arch. Her small body crashes against him, and despite having his breath knocked out of him, Merlin tries to alleviate her fall the only way he knows how. He wraps his hands around her waist.
He breathes out a shaky exhale that sounds much like a huff and then looks up, only to find her face hovering mere inches from his.
"I'm~" she breathes, but stops, and a tiny blush creeps to her cheeks. It's not a bright and embarrassed red, like it usually is when she is feeling uncomfortable or self-conscious. Instead it's rosy and gentle, laced with hope and unspoken promises. A shiver races down Merlin's spine like an electrical current and he nearly forgets to breathe.
He stares into her eyes, unable to look away, her hair is a curtain around them, while she is pressed up against him in all the right places. She is right here in his arms, snuggled into his chest, smelling like spring and lemon grass and warm as sunshine.
He adjusts his hands to hold her better, accidentally hiking up her shirt in the process. His fingers brush against the bare skin of her sides and Elaine's breath hitches. Her teeth graze over her lower lip, eyes wide open in fascination as she takes in the new sensation, and she is so, so beautiful.
Elaine's head is spinning and all she can focus on, are his fingers trailing across her sides and the tingling sensation they have left on her skin. Their limbs are entwined and she is cradled to his chest, which is actually much wider than his clothes let on. She can feel the outlines of his subtle muscles through his shirt too and her heart rate picks up in response.
Hesitantly, she leans in and brings her face closer to his and Merlin can feel her breath fan across his cheeks and in that moment everything ceases to matter. There are no worries, no destinies, no one to answer to and no impending doom looming in the shadows. For this blissful little moment, Merlin feels the weight of the world lift off his shoulders.
He can feel his eyes start to flutter and he is about to close them, when something changes. Elaine blinks to clear the haze from her eyes and tilts her head to the side. Her lips twitch and it seems as though she is looking at something.
"Is..." Merlin struggles to find his voice, "there something on my face?"
A tiny giggle escapes her and she chews on her lip again, to stop herself from laughing.
She nods. "Saliva."
Merlin's eyes nearly fall from their sockets. A blush brighter than his red shirt creeps onto his cheeks and he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Of course he has slime all over his face! That damned dog licked his nearly from head to toe.
What's worse is that Elaine is in hysterics, her head tucked against his chest as she tries to suppress her giggles.
"It's not funny," Merlin manages, nearly choking from embarrassment.
"It's a little funny," she confesses, peeking up at him with one eye.
Somehow he manages to roll his eyes, but it doesn't help improve his situation. He wants to entangle one of his hands from around her, to wipe his face clean, but she stops him.
"Let me?"
Her voice is soft and soothing, and she doesn't seem repulsed, but Merlin still can't bring himself to look into her eyes. He suddenly understands how Gwen must have felt having to talk to Arthur after a Goblin had …er embarrassed her in public.
A cool finger gently grazes his scorched cheek and it feels wonderful. Despite himself, he lets her coax his head up and as gathers the courage to look at her, he is met with with a gentle smile.
Elaine's eyes glow gold and she skims her fingers across his face, removing all traces of dog spit from his face. She reaches his forehead and her hands itch to run through his hair, but she holds back. Instead, she pulls back and straightens up into a semi sitting position to let him breathe.
She grants him a tiny grin. "There we go."
She's hoping to see him smile, but instead, his forehead wrinkles.
"I'm such an idiot," he mumbles, hoping she won't catch it.
She does, and frowns disapprovingly.
"Don't say that," she chides gently, before settling into the grass right beside him. "You got licked. It's no big deal."
He is so surprised by her tone, he has no choice but to look at her. "You really think so?"
He sees her smile. "Of course."
She sounds so sure, he smiles before he can stop himself. Something warm and tingly spreads through his chest and stomach and he can feel his heart pick up its pace.
"So you're not...disgusted?"
Appalled, Elaine's mouth drops open. "Of course not!" Honest to God, she does not know where he gets his ideas from sometimes. "Why would I be?"
"Well I... I thought you... didn't like- " he rambles such nonsense Elaine doesn't even attempt to understand. "And since Arthur saved your life... and you said he was...I mean-"
Merlin's words finally start to make sense and Elaine's mind rewinds back on the happenings of the day. His hurt and discouraged face from earlier flashes before her eyes and the reason behind it hits her like a well aimed arrow.
Merlin thought she liked Arthur. He was jealous.
The realisation is so surprising, she nearly bursts out laughing. How he manages to come up with such strange conclusions is beyond her, but she still feels incredibly flattered.
She sneaks a secret glance at the goofy, awkward, incredible boy lying right next to her, and something inside her heart clicks into place.
Next to her, Merlin shifts nervously, and their palms brush against one another. For a second or two, they both freeze in place, but then in a leap of faith, they both move. Their fingers entwine and just like that, they are holding hands.
There are no fireworks or sparkles flashing before Merlin's eyes when it happens. The world doesn't shift and he feels no chills running up and down his spine. Instead it's like finding something that was always meant for him, he just hasn't realised it until this moment, for he didn't know it existed.
Neither of them move or comment on the change, and there is no need. The contact is like breathing. Natural, necessary and it means more to him than the world. More than even his destiny, because from the second her fingers lace with his, he is no longer alone.
Elaine smiles and gently squeezes his hand. He returns it instantly, and she decides to take a leap of faith.
"Merlin?"
"Hm?"
She leans forward, before she can talk herself out of it, and lightly brushes her lips against his cheek.
"I'm not into princes." She grins and looks back towards the cloudless sky above them.
Thoroughly flushed, and grinning like an idiot, Merlin believes her.
A/N: Thank you for reading.
Reviews will encourage me to update sooner. C:
