Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur
Camelot_drabble Prompt: 498, role reversal
Merlin bingo: mirrors
Warning: none
Author's Notes: unbetaed,
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Rippled, the image stared back to Merlin, too close, too intense, too much like the strange reality that was Merlin's life these days. He didn't dare look into his own eyes, reflected in the glass. He wasn't sure what he'd see there. Joy, terror, the threat of losing everything, the determination to see it through anyway.
They had been playing at this game for months, whenever they were far from Camelot. Merlin dressed in Arthur's clothes and ordering him about, pretending to be the prince and Arthur his peasant servant, although Arthur was the mouthiest servant Merlin had ever seen, even more than Merlin was if truth be told.
Role-playing, Arthur said. Giving Merlin permission to work him, ignore him, treat him like a farmer or a servant, use him as he often used Merlin. Giving himself permission to let go, to experience something Arthur was never allowed at court, the luxury of carelessness, of frivolity and no one watching his every move to condemn his princely decisions.
It seemed a lark at first, at least for Arthur. Merlin tried to talk him out of it. After all, Arthur's temper was sometimes mercurial, and Merlin could see, even inadvertently, Arthur using what he learned of Merlin in the game to hold sway over him.
But underneath it all, Merlin wanted it with everything that was in him.
To see Arthur as just a man, to tease out that relaxed smile of his—the smile that had grown elusive as Arthur's duties piled on and Uther berated him at every turn—, to grow closer to Arthur with every moment of this mirrored reality.
This next step had been a long time coming. The jokes, the long looks, the way Arthur seemed to melt into Merlin's touch, even as he was berating him, inside the game and out. And Merlin was touching him a lot more lately.
Merlin's clumsiness proved his undoing. Tripping over his feet, straight into Arthur's arms, as Arthur caught him, they twisted around and ended up sprawled on the floor. Underneath him, Merlin could feel Arthur's longing, the hardness there. Arthur's eyes were black with desire.
It would have only taken a second, closing the distance between them, Merlin's mouth on Arthur's and it would spiral into something much more than a game.
Scrambling up, Merlin straightened his fine clothes, brushed at the velvet jacket to wipe off any dirt—he'd have to clean it when they got back to Camelot—, then abandoning the game, cleared his throat, "Sorry, sorry, I'm… err, are you all right, sire?"
Staring up at him, Arthur lay there a moment. "It was my fault, my lord, for getting in your way," Arthur said, his voice rough with emotion. Standing, he reached over and swept a bit of lint off Merlin's chest, his hand lingering there, too long. Finally, Arthur leaned over, whispering in Merlin's ear, "Although a prince would know how to deal with such insolence."
"And what might that be, my wilful servant? Objects thrown at their heads? The stocks? Or perhaps something else? Something more personal?" Merlin's heart was beating faster. The warmth of Arthur's body, the way he was merely a hairsbreadth away was driving Merlin mad with longing.
"Whatever my prince desires," Arthur murmured. But he didn't move away.
Merlin pulled back, frowning. "Arthur? Is this still… I… we can't do… not in Camelot."
For a second, Merlin thought Arthur would abandon whatever they were playing at, but instead, he nodded. "No, not in Camelot, but here, my lord Merlin rules all."
That was all Merlin needed.
Moving to close the curtains to shut out the moonlight streaming through the window and envelop them in a world of their own, in the mirrored surface of the window glass, Merlin could see himself dressed in finery fit for a prince and beyond, Arthur in shabby clothes and one of Merlin's neckerchiefs around his neck.
It was a world turned inside out, where servant was master, and master was servant, and anything was possible.
Then as he moved to stand by the bed, he stretched out his hand, waiting to see if Arthur would take it.
Arthur did.