Disclaimer: I'm not affiliated to BBC Merlin in any way.
Combing Arthur's hair every morning hadn't been a part of Merlin's duties when he'd first been appointed his servant. However, like many other things (like saving his life every other day), it had rapidly become one, much to Merlin's faux chagrin.
The whole ordeal had started innocently enough.
It was a couple of months after Merlin had been in Arthur's service and things were going really well, not that either of them would ever admit it.
The day didn't feel different. Everything had gone like it always did. Merlin was late, because of which Arthur was woken up late too and now both were rushing through their tasks while cursing each other; Arthur doing it obnoxiously loud and Merlin with sharp glares and insolent muttering.
Arthur was to join his father for an official meeting with the nobles of the court that morning and he was in blind panic. His father already loved to point out all his shortcomings; he didn't need pathological tardiness added to the list as well (though he was definitely going to add it to Merlin's).
"Merlin," called Arthur, stuffing a piece of bread in his mouth and collecting the reports lying haphazardly on the table. Honestly, nobody would even be able to tell by the state of his bedchamber that he had a servant.
Merlin looked up from making up the bed. "Yes, sire?"
"Polish my armour, would you? I'll need it for the training with the knights later," Arthur said, moving towards the door with a handful of messy parchments that definitely didn't look like confidential state reports.
"As you wish," answered Merlin with forced enthusiasm.
Arthur rolled his eyes and turned to face Merlin. "Be careful, I can have you thrown in the stocks for that tone."
He could hear his friend scoff at that but he made no further retorts and finally moved to leave because as much as he enjoyed this banter, he genuinely didn't have time for it (which was a shame, wasn't it?)
"Arthur, wait!" rang out Merlin's voice just as he was about to open the door.
"What now?" groaned Arthur impatiently.
Merlin sighed and walked across the room to come in front of him. Arthur raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"You're just trying to waste my time now, aren't you?"
"Don't flatter yourself," replied Merlin. "It's your hair. It looks like a bird's nest. Not at all princely."
Arthur touched his hair subconsciously and huffed. "Well, what's wrong with it?"
Merlin opened his mouth to answer but closed it again…and before Arthur knew what was happening, Merlin's hands were in his hair and it was all Arthur could do to not melt into a puddle right there and then.
It didn't take longer than a few seconds but Arthur would always vividly remember how it felt to have Merlin's calloused fingers run through the strands, unknotting and smoothing them.
It was possible that Arthur might have stopped breathing momentarily, a condition which was worsened when he noticed how bloody close Merlin was standing. Arthur could count his eyelashes if he wanted, not that he'd ever do such a thing. Please. If someone asked him about his manservant's eyelashes, Arthur certainly wouldn't know anything about how thick or long or dark they were.
Good lord, Arthur was going barmy with this strange proximity. Did the fool have no concept of personal space? He really was more trouble than he was worth.
Merlin must have noticed Arthur's silence and the shift in his body language because he stopped his movements and shifted his gaze downward to Arthur's face, his deep blue eyes clear and inquisitive.
Arthur swallowed, suddenly feeling too warm under the collar and could do nothing but stare back like a fool. Things really could not be worse.
Merlin's lips quirked up knowingly at that and he stepped back, dusting Arthur's tunic for good measure, his hands lingering slightly.
"All done," he declared, looking at Arthur way more intensely than the situation warranted.
Arthur, having finally come to his senses, cleared his throat and clutched the reports tightly. "Right. Thanks. I'll be uh- leaving now."
Merlin grinned like the little devil he was and said, "Do invest in a comb, my lord. I promise you it's worth it."
"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur said, suppressing a smile of his own as he left the bedchamber at last, ordering his traitorous heart to calm down. It didn't work though. His heart was just as defiant as Merlin…and Arthur wouldn't have it any other way.
A/N: I've been crazily obsessed with Merlin for the past few months and Merthur is basically one of my top OTPs ever. So I thought why not try my hand at a Merthur fic? I really enjoyed writing it! I don't know if people even read Merlin fanfiction on here but this is my safe space and I had to post it here!
Sorry for how short it is, I will definitely write a longer one next time! Please read and review.
Till next time!