Things That Merlin Isn't Allowed To Do (According to Prince Arthur)
20: Step In As Substitute Court Physician
It's incredibly typical that Arthur has a killer migraine one day during the two weeks when Gaius has left the city on his yearly check on the outlying villages. Of course, there's this elderly woman in lower town who most commoners usually goes to, unable to afford help from the court physician himself (although Gaius is so kind he usually helps anyway) - but Arthur isn't sure if he trusts unknown people doing voodoo on him like that and anyway, he doesn't get the chance to go down and ask for a remedy because Merlin volunteers immediately at seeing him (lying groaning in the bed, complaining about the bright light, feeling slightly nauseous) to make a cure.
"I mean, I've seen Gaius done it countless times," Merlin says. "I can do it, no problem; don't worry."
Somehow, Arthur's got a feeling that he should worry, very much so indeed. However Merlin doesn't listen to his (feeble) protests, fussing over him like a mother hen for a couple of minutes to ensure he's comfortable (propping up pillows and covering him with blankets and fetching a hot cup of tea from the kitchens - to be honest it's not that bad, even if Merlin is such an annoying a mother hen) before rushing toward Gaius' chambers to make a potion.
When he comes back some fifteen minutes later he has a look of great concentration on his face and he's flushed like he's just run a race. Or up the stairs and through all the corridors, at the least, which he probably has. He walks as quietly as possible so that he won't make Arthur's headache worse and sits carefully by the bedside. Arthur gives him what's supposed to be a What The Hell Took You So Long, I Could Be Dying Here!-look, but it's quite pitiful.
"Here. Don't drink too fast, Gaius always says that."
The potion looks harmless enough. Smells…a bit odd. Tastes surely very bad, like all medicines. Ugh, he hates medicines. Arthur looks between it and Merlin (who's worrying his bottom lip) uncertainly. "If I die from poisoning, it's you who'll have to face my father."
"It's safe, I promise," the warlock says. "I wouldn't give you anything poisonous."
Arthur sighs. He has to drink it: he's obliged to participate in the important council meeting this afternoon, and with a headache as this he'll never make it. "Right, here we go…"
He downs it in one go and is shocked that it doesn't taste bad. No … not bad at all. The potion feels slightly warm and bubbly as it goes down his throat, which is odd, but Arthur's head feels instantly lighter and clearer and the light in the room (only from candles, the curtains have been drawn to block out the sharp sun) doesn't pain his eyes.
Merlin takes the empty cup from his hands. "Are you feeling any better?"
"I feel great!"
The servant looks relieved, smiling. "That's great! I can't believe it actually worked!" he exclaims like he has never done such a potion before. Which he probably hasn't. Normally at such words Arthur would react by calling him an idiot, in this situation Merlin imagines that he'll in any second say something like "What, you've never done it before? You could've poisoned me!" but now he doesn't.
Arthur stares at him suddenly, as if seeing the world in a whole new light, his expression strangely intense yet tender and Merlin blinks at him confused at this abrupt change of behavior.
"Are you feeling all right?" Merlin asks concernedly. "Arthur?"
Arthur's tone is straightforward and honest. "You're pretty."
The servant blushes a deep scarlet.
"Arthur...?" Merlin gasps, and then, when realizing how off this behaviour is for the prince; "I must've used too much wormwood or something!" Or maybe he's looked at the wrong recipe? Oh no. Oh god! He's poisoned Arthur, making him act weird! Gaius is going to kill him for this…and Arthur too, most probably. Not to mention the king…! Merlin thinks hard, trying to figure out a solution or anything but he's no idea really what's wrong with the prince, other than he's acting very weird. What's he going to do?
Again, Arthur speaks up, more impatiently as Merlin hasn't acknowledged his words. "I like you."
"I…umm….thank you, that's very nice, Arthur, but-"
The prince obviously won't have that because he suddenly grabs Merlin's waist and pulls him down onto the bed and wraps his arms around him very possessively, one of his legs slipping between Merlin's thighs. The servant's face burns hotly and he squeaks in surprise when Arthur buries his face right above Merlin's shoulder, pushing the neckerchief aside to bear skin, cuddling him close and doing things with his mouth and tongue that Merlin really shouldn't think about right now. Merlin opens his mouth to berate him and tell him to stop (not that he really wants to) but all that comes out is a needy moan. "A-Arthur...!"
"Mine," Arthur murmurs and kisses him, a hand holding his neck in place. Any protest on Merlin's mind fades away and he responds eagerly, raising his hands to touch Arthur's hair and tug at his clothing, and suddenly they both lie there naked whilst Merlin has difficulty thinking in a straight line, chanting only Arthur Arthur Arthur and it's completely wonderful, and Arthur's doing things Merlin barely has dared to think about before. Some things he's never known about before, too, like that thing with his broad hands in the juncture between Merlin's thighs and his tongue there and then...
()()()
Sunlight hits him right in the face, making him groan.
The prince rolls onto his stomach, or tries to, when he realizes something is holding him back. Blinking in surprise, he looks down, seeing a pair of fine pale arms wrapped around his torso. And then he starts feeling the rest of his body: someone is breathing evenly into the juncture of his neck, his skin tingling there, and a naked lean body is pressed flush close against his own, fitting perfectly, and he can't help himself, stroking the smooth skin lying before him. He turns his head, a feeling of happiness and content spreading through his chest when seeing the familiar mop of dark hair, now adorably tousled, and the slightly smiling, pink, very kissable lips…
Wait.
Merlin … is in his bed. Merlin ... is naked in his bed.
With him.
They're in his bed. Together. Naked. In his bed. With Merlin clinging to him. Naked! In his bed! Merlin!
Everything rushes back to him in a flash. The potion. The wonderful potion and the urge to… Suddenly Merlin's already beautiful smile had become irresistible and that gorgeous body so close to his own, and Arthur had…he'd - and it had been rather wonderful too - too vivid to be one of those amazing dreams. Every touch, kiss, movement had definitely felt very, very real.
Arthur's eyes widens and he looks down at his bedmate in disbelief.
Have they...? Did they...? For real?
This is not a dream is it? It can't be. If it is, Arthur might hurt someone for making them think this is real. But it feels almost too good to be a dream, almost too good to be real, and Arthur runs a hand over soft unblemished skin once more - just to make sure.
What if it's not real?
Timely, Merlin starts waking up, stretching and yawning like a kitten and snuggling closer to the warm body next to his own, before sluggishly opening his eyes, to gaze directly into the eyes of the prince.
Arthur stares back at him. "Did…did we really…?"
Merlin seems to realize exactly the state they're in and blushes a deep scarlet. "Y-yeah … we did."
"I…" The prince looks suddenly concerned, earnest and slightly terrified. "I didn't hurt you, did I? Did I force…No I didn't did I? I can't have-!" Oh God please, don't let me have lost such control that I did that, Arthur pleads, or I shall never forgive myself!
The servant shakes his head and makes a timid expression of happiness, gazing at him through long, dark eyelashes. "No. You were very good and gentlemanly," Merlin says coyly.
"Thank god. I feared…" Arthur shakes his head, trying to get rid of the feeling. Unconsciously he pulls Merlin closer to himself; the servant's frame fits neatly against his own, perfectly and nice, like they're meant to be. Neither tries to pull away.
"Um, it…it was the potion," Merlin murmurs awkwardly, his breath quickening in nervousness as he speaks. "I mean. I made a mistake or something…I didn't realize until you drank it and began acting weird, I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean - and then you just, I couldn't - didn't want to stop, I hadn't felt anything like it and, and - "
"Merlin," Arthur cuts in calmly, soothingly. "It's all right. Breathe."
"R-really? You're not…mad or anything?"
"I've got rid of my headache and got you in my arms instead. It's a quite nice exchange." Arthur smiles gently, stroking a lock of dark hair which stubbornly falls back onto the warlock's temple, while meeting his gaze. It's strange, how he with a simple look that convey so much and Merlin returns the gaze, happiness and relief and something more burning near the irises. "Although, I don't think you should try to be a physician. Wouldn't want anyone to end up poisoned or anything. Besides...I like you where you are, right at my side."
"Oh," Merlin whispers and don't mind at all when abruptly Arthur leans down to kiss him. When they part, he's out of breath, mind reeling, heart beating in a fast but nice pace and his skin tingles, the prince's hands are suddenly wandering all-over him and he never wants it to stop.
"I-I think you've missed the council meeting," he reminds Arthur quietly as the prince is nibbling at his earlobe and there's a breathless laugh in response. "They're not going to be—oh!—happy—Arthur! Do that again!"
"Again, hm?" Arthur says, lifting his head just enough to look at him with a dangerous, calculating gaze, trapping him – Merlin can't look away, even if he aches inside for more and the hand between his thighs is very…distracting. "You want me to do this … again, Merlin?" The prince rolls his tongue around his name like it's a sweet rare delicacy, a hum deep in his chest, working up his throat.
Merlin's response is a strangled moan as his toes and fingers curl as hot wonderful pleasure shoots up his spine; he arches into the touch, coaxing the prince's hands back where they do wonders. "Y-yes please."
And Arthur does it gladly, again – and again and again - a promise that theirs shall be an infinity of always and again.
()()()
When they cuddle among satin and velvet much later, arms and legs and happiness entangled, Merlin yawns and pillows his head on Arthur's chest whispering "I love you", and Arthur is amazed at how right, how easy it is to put all these great things into such small words. "I love you too," he murmurs back, a hand in Merlin's hair and they fall asleep, both filled with a certainty that this shall last forever.
()()()
"Sire," sir Leon greets him much, much later with the hint of a raised eyebrow, as the prince finally appears in the throne room. Night has fallen, and candles are spread randomly in the room to provide light. "The meeting is over. Where were you? The king asked for your presence." There are a couple of other older knights there as well, sorting through some papers on the table. They look up at the prince's entrance.
Arthur has thought up a very good, convincing white lie on the way here but now as he stands there with the shadow of Merlin's touches and kisses and other wonderful things lingering on his skin, he flushes scarlet, sharp memories flooding his mind, including the little detail of the warlock waiting back in his chambers for his return, and all well-thought-through words escape him.
"I was…otherwise…er, occupied."
"I see." Leon looks at him closely and opens his mouth like to comment, narrows his eyes, then opens his mouth again. The man's eyes widen, mouth forming an O. "I see."
Arthur avoids the knight's gaze, finding at interesting pattern on the stone floor.
"Well. Go tell my father I apologize; it shan't happen again."
Leon bows quickly before it gets too awkward. "Of course, sire."
When the remaining knights by the table look at him curiously, Arthur glares back, barking at them to mind their own business before he turns on his heel, hurrying back to his chamber.
()()()
"So, is he ... satisfactory?" sir Gwaine drawls as he sits next to the servant, who's watching the prince swing his sword in a series of exercises, while said servant is absently polishing the sword in his lap. The rest of the field is scattered with knights in training. At hearing the voice, Merlin startles, unwillingly drawing his eyes away from his (gorgeous) prince.
He turns to stare at the knight, incredulous and extremely embarrassed. They're on the training field, right in the open, with lots of people around - anyone could hear what he's saying!
"GWAINE!" Merlin shrieks, dropping the cloth he's been using.
"I had to ask," Gwaine defends himself. "It kind of sounded that way when I passed by his chambers yesterday."
"Oh my god, you didn't," Merlin gasps, cheeks ablaze.
"Hey, it's not my fault that Leon told us to check what was taking the princess so long."
The servant makes a strangled noise. "'U-us'?"
"Yeah, me and Bors. Gosh, you'd have seen the look on the man's face."
"Oh no," the servant wails, completely mortified, hiding his face in his hands, almost starting hyperventilate. "So that's why - that's why everyone's doing that thing with their eyebrows, and keep looking at me like - like that! Oh god! Oh god!"
Even the cook had given him the odd look when he fetched the prince's breakfast this morning, instead of yelling at him and trying to break his clumsy hands with the rolling pin; and the guards too, smiling as he passed them by; and everybody suddenly seems to know who he is; one of the knights had even bowed his head to him this morning and, and - Oh god. Oh god.
Gwaine's voice cuts through his train of (panicked) thoughts. "It's about time - I wondered if he'd ever get a leg over-"
Which is the moment Arthur finishes his exercise with a newly recruited knight (who looks like he might collapse from exhaustion), looking over at them and rising his voice. "Gwaine!" He yells it in that dangerous I'm-gonna-hack-you-into-pieces-for-being-near-my-Merlin-voice (which Gwaine guesses he, and all other knights, must start getting used to). "Get. Over. Here. NOW!"
The knight winks at the wide-eyed servant, who's trying to form words but his jaw just moves up and down soundlessly. "Don't forget to send me a wedding invitation!"