Chapter 5
Warning/s: Slight nudity and making out (not graphic in any way).
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. If I did, would I be on my laptop writing Freylin fanfics?
A/N: So this is a prompt from bubbles002: "merlin is going to meet freya secretly for a secret date and arthur follows him and ruins it"
Thanks for all your prompts so far, guys. I appreciate it, I really do. Keep it up, yeah, so I don't have to have another rant at you lovely people?
Merlin looked up, licking his lips nervously, from where he was scrubbing the floor. "Arthur," he said hesitantly.
Arthur looked up from his papers, looking mildly irritated at the distraction. "Yes, Merlin?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, as was one of his idiosyncrasies when stressed.
"I was wondering whether I could have the evening off?" Merlin crossed his fingers underneath the rag he was used, and attempted to look as demure as possible.
Arthur eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"
Merlin cursed inside his head, and stuttered out, "I have…to…help…G…Gaius." Yes, that would do. "Yes. Gaius."
Arthur stared at him for a while longer with arched eyebrows. "Alright," he said finally, nodding slowly. "As long as you get all your chores done before then." He resumed reading through his documents.
Merlin began scouring the floor once again, relieved and pleasantly taken aback to have gotten off so lightly.
Little did he know that Arthur wasn't reading through his papers. Instead, he was plotting.
Merlin walked out of his chambers approximately three-quarters of an hour after he had left Arthur's chambers. He was wearing a different shirt, Arthur noticed. And a different neckerchief. It looked nice. Not that Arthur was taking any notice of him.
As Merlin strode down the corridor, Arthur slipped out of a nearby alcove and stalked after him, taking care to stay secluded in the shadows cast by the flickering torches. He was holding something in his hand, Arthur's keen eyes picked out, and when Merlin passed through a beam of light streaming in via a clear, latticed window, Arthur saw it was a single red rose.
Arthur tracked his manservant out of the castle and trod carefully through the cobblestones of the court-square, ensuring that his heavy, leather boots did not catch or make a noise. It earned him some strange glances from the guards on duty, but they let it slide, and Arthur found that he could ignore it.
Merlin had acted particularly oddly earlier that day, weirder than usual, and Arthur was determined to find out why. It obviously wasn't Gaius; why was Merlin wandering into the lower town with a red rose?
Well, the answer to that was pretty clear – he was obviously seeing someone who he was romantically involved with.
But who was she?
Or was it a man?
Arthur resolved then and there to accept Merlin whoever he was seeing. He would support him, he would still love him the same – well, not love him, because he was platonically fond of Merlin, but they weren't friends, so obviously he didn't love him – anyway, he would get involved with this and raise awareness for the minority of the population that Merlin was in –
By the time Arthur snapped back to reality, he had convinced himself that Merlin was seeing a man, definitely, it was in no way a girl; and that Merlin was nowhere to be seen. Glancing around hurriedly, he noticed a figure knocking on a door of a small, but rather charming little house made of wood.
He stole over to the opposite house, and crouched down in the veil it gave him – the figure was Merlin, thankfully.
Arthur watched, wide-eyed, as the door opened and light spilled onto the ground, illuminating Merlin's rather tremendous smile, and a man was cast into shadow, only his silhouette displayed. He stepped out and threw his arms around Merlin, and as he came out of the doorway his face was undimmed.
Arthur's jaw dropped.
It was a woman. Not a man.
Merlin had a romantic partner who was a girl.
The girl spoke a few words to Merlin, still wrapped around him, and then they kissed – kissed! – and retreated inside.
It was a few moments before Arthur remembered to breathe.
Arthur decided to let Merlin finish his date. Then he would leap out, confront him and make him tell him everything.
Arthur complimented himself on his brilliant idea, and then sat back to wait.
And waited.
And waited.
It was rather cold, Arthur thought. He tapped his foot to keep himself warm.
I'm the king of Camelot and I'm crouched outside a peasant's house in the middle of winter, in a load of mud, waiting for my manservant to finish his date so I can bully him into telling me who his partner is. Arthur decided to spend the next few minutes re-evaluating his choices in life.
Arthur made up a tune, slapping his knees and humming a tune. That's it. I could be a bard.
I should have stayed at home.
How long does it take to have a date? Arthur considered again. Could take all night, actually.
I miss Guinevere.
Will I ever make it out of this alive?
Finally, Arthur became fed up with waiting. He jumped up, wincing at his knees as the frigid joints clicked back into place, and, with a stance worthy of the King of Camelot, strode over to the wooden house.
Well, he tried. Halfway there, he slipped over in some not-so-frozen-solid-mud. He cursed, rather quietly, in case anyone came to investigate and saw the King with a face full of mud, cursing like Gwaine after two jugs of mead.
Arthur stood up again, resigning himself to using his hands to stagger back up, and this time managed to get the full way to the house. He knocked smartly and waited for the door to be opened.
There was a knock at the door. "Ignore it," Merlin murmured against Freya's lips, tightening his grip on her hips to stop her from answering. "Won't be anything important."
"Mm-kay," Freya replied, easily slipping back into the hazy pleasure of kissing Merlin.
There was another snappish knock on the wood and Freya sighed in annoyance, trying to squirm away from Merlin's firm hold. "Ignore it," he muttered again, detaching his lips from Freya's and admiring his lover. "It's nearly midnight, it won't be anyone you want to talk to. Most likely some crazy sorcerer."
"True," Freya agreed, and began tugging at Merlin's shirt. He grinned and raised his arms to aid her in slipping it off; she tossed it onto the floor somewhere and started to embrace Merlin again, running her hands over his bare chest.
Slowly Freya pushed him back onto her bed, lying down on top of him and moving down to nuzzle into his neck, earning herself a few gasps from Merlin as she pulled her dress down to her waist and pressed her body against his.
Arthur really was getting impatient now. He was wet, cold, dirty and he wanted to find out who Merlin's girlfriend was.
He had knocked over and over again, and nothing had happened.
So, as he told himself, his actions were justified – his actions being bursting into the house.
Behaviour most befitting a king.
Needless to say, Merlin and Freya were fairly startled when this happened.
Arthur burst into the house and spun around on the spot, blinking at the sudden brightness of the many lit candles. Then he saw Merlin and his girlfriend.
"My eyes!" Arthur howled and hurried to cover them, retching as the image ran through his mind – Merlin kissing. And shirtless.
"Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed, scrambling to cover Freya.
"Merlin!" Freya squealed, "Who's that?"
"Freya –" Merlin began.
"Freya?" Arthur said, taking a wary glance through his hands to see if it was safe. When he saw that Freya was now fully-dressed again, and Merlin was pulling his shirt on, he lowered his hands.
He took in the empty plates on the table, the messy covers on the bed, the ruffled hair of the two standing in front of him, looking rather like children caught misbehaving…
Arthur grinned at Merlin, who smiled back hesitantly. "Let's have a talk, shall we, Merlin?"
Hope you enjoy :) Cordelia Rose x