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In hindsight, Merlin could see how things might have led to this misunderstanding. How someone could, maybe, possibly, be under the insane delusion that Arthur was courting him. Really it was all Arthur's fault.
It all started after Arthur had gotten his throne back from Morgana and decided to end his father's ban on magic.
After the fight, Merlin had told Arthur about his magic. About everything, their shared destiny, how often he saved him, his mistakes, but most importantly, he told him how he stayed not because of destiny but because he believed in Arthur and in the kingdom he would create. And after many, many late-night conversations, Arthur decided to lift the ban.
This led to many long and painful months of gathering any information they could find on governing kingdoms with magic. And that was before the dreadful work of making new laws!
"Please tell me we're done," Merlin groaned as he rested his head against the table. He was at Arthur's dining table, surrounded by a mountain of research and scrolls.
After six gruelling weeks, they had finally finished writing out the new laws that would be in place once the magic ban was lifted next week.
Arthur hummed, "Just one more thing."
"Do whatever you want; I'm going to bed," Merlin whined. He was exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. He was so tired he might fall asleep right on that table.
"Perfect. Then it's decided, you're Court Sorcerer."
Merlin snapped his head up, "Absolutely not! How many times do I have to tell you I don't want it!" He was already busy enough as it was, what with saving Arthur's life all the time, being his manservant and Gaius's assistant! Not to mention becoming court sorcerer would mean becoming a noble. He hated nobles!
Not to mention the other reason he loathed the idea.
"Merlin-"
"No, no way I'm not doing it! I'm too busy. Ask one of the druids!" Merlin shouted as he got up and ran towards the door.
"Where are you going?"
"I just remembered Gaius needed my help with, um, healing stuff!" he said as he slammed the door behind him.
And really, Merlin should have known that Arthur wouldn't give up that easily, which was how this whole misunderstanding started.
1. Gifts
Merlin spent the rest of the day avoiding Arthur until dinner. Merlin had been prepared for his pestering, but Arthur hadn't mentioned the new job the whole night. That should have been his first clue that Arthur was up to something, but he had been too tired, too relieved to notice.
The following morning, he cursed his own stupidity.
Getting up early enough to have breakfast before he woke up Arthur, he stepped through his bedroom door only to stop in the doorway stunned.
On the table of Gaius's workshop were boxes of different colours and sizes. At least fifteen of them! And not any plain old box, no, these were fancy boxes in rich colours and fine wooden boxes! Gifts! Gifts with fancy ribbons like Arthur got from visiting nobles on his birthday.
"What is all this?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing," Gaius said, eyebrow raised. "Something you need to tell me, Merlin?"
"No," he said, frowning. He must have forgotten something. Was there some holiday he forgot? And why were the nobles sending the gifts here? Maybe Arthur wanted him to check the gifts to ensure none of them were laced with sinister magic before he accepted them.
"Hmm, so you have no idea why the King has sent you all these gifts?"
"Wait, they're all for me?" he said, horrified.
Gaius nodded, looking amused.
"Why would Arthur-" he said as it hit him why Arthur would do this. He threw up his hands. "I'm going to kill him."
Gaius, the bloody bastard, chuckled. Chuckled! "Hm, I almost believe you."
"Well, you should because he's a dead man!" Merlin shouted as he tore out the door.
When he got to Arthur's room, he was ready to use magic to turn Arthur into an actual donkey.
The bloody prat was still asleep! Looking all smug even as he slept, well, Merlin would put an end to that. Merlin ignored the butterflies in his stomach and tore off all the blankets, rolling Arthur right off the bed.
"Fuck!" Arthur swore at his rude awakening. His eyes snapped around, trying to take in the situation, when he saw Merlin. His shoulders relaxed as he grunted, "Oh, it's just you. You know I could put you in the stocks for that."
Merlin smiled all teeth as he said, "Another reason I shouldn't be court sorcerer then."
Arthur shrugged from the floor, "Or a good example of how my threats won't stop you from telling me when you disagree with my judgements. An excellent quality for a court sorcerer if you ask me."
He glared down at Arthur, who looked annoyingly unphased. And then he smirked. "I take it you got the gifts then."
He really was going to kill his pompous arse.
He growled, "I can't believe you thought sending me a few gifts would work! I cannot, will not be bought into becoming court sorcerer."
"That’s not what I was doing,” Arthur said, tilting his head to the side. “More like, showing you what kind of things you would have access to. The magical artefacts you’d be able to study as Camelot’s court sorcerer.”
“How is that different from bribing?” Merlin said with a huff. He then narrowed his eyes. “Wait, what kind of magical artefacts?”
Arthur sat up, resting on his elbows as he rolled his eyes. “You didn’t open any of them, did you? Typical.”
He gave Arthur his best imitation of Gaius’s eyebrow of doom. “What’s in the boxes, Arthur?”
The bastard merely shrugged. “Hmm, can’t seem to remember. There were an awful lot of gifts, after all.”
“I’m not opening them.”
“Sure, you’re not.”
“I mean it, Arthur!”
“Of course you do, Merlin. Now, where’s my breakfast,” he said, getting up off the ground and heading towards the table while rubbing his hands together.
Yeah, Merlin was definitely going to kill him.
Merlin lasted five days before opening the presents. Five long days of burning curiosity and Arthur dropping annoying hints everywhere they went.
And to make matters worse, a servant would arrive every day for those five days with more gifts looking rather amused.
He would have stuck out longer, but Gaius kept complaining about all the boxes cluttering his workspace. It wasn’t because Merlin couldn’t take not knowing any longer. Certainly not that.
After opening all seventy-one gifts (yes, seventy-one fancy boxes!) Merlin stormed out of the tower to murder Arthur.
“How the hell did you get your hands on that book of prophecies? Gaius told me there are only ten copies in the world!”
Arthur looked up from his desk, a stupidly annoying grin on his face. “Finally! Took you long enough.”
“Seriously, Arthur, how did you get all that stuff so quickly?”
“Well, Gwen had your measures-”
“I’m not talking about the clothes, Arthur!”
That hadn’t surprised him. With the royal tailors, seamstresses, and Gwen on hand, it didn’t surprise him that Arthur would give him such fine clothes. He was more surprised at how understated they were. Everything was made from the finest materials, of course, but nothing gaudy. Simple tunics and trousers much like Arthur wore, some with tiny needlework on the cuffs that he loathed to admit he liked. All of it perfectly proper for a position at court while still being something Merlin would wear.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Merlin,” Arthur said smugly as he went through the papers on his desk.
“The magic books, the rare herbs, not to mention the bloody magic daggers!”
Arthur perked up at the last one. “Did you hold those? Perfect balance. And according to the blacksmith, if you put some of your magic in them when you throw them, they’ll always come back to their magic source, which in this case, would be you.”
Merlin frowned, “How do you know what he said was true.”
“Because Iseldir recommended him to me.”
Merlin swore. Of course, the druid chieftain was involved in this. Arthur had officially made peace with the druids two months ago, and Iseldir had given Arthur the idea of making Merlin court sorcerer.
“Well, how the hell did he make it so quickly?”
“I asked him to make it months ago. Originally, I was going to give most of this stuff to you after you officially become court sorcerer, but you’ve been annoyingly stubborn about the whole thing,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes. “Seriously, why are you so against this promotion Merlin?”
“Other than the idea of becoming a pompous noble like yourself?”
Arthur snorted, “Yes, other than that.”
Merlin sighed, “Well, for starters, I’m already overworked as it is. I’m Gaius’s assistant and your manservant, and I already spend a ridiculous amount of time saving your royal arse. If I took another job, I’d die!”
Arthur leaned back into his chair, “Becoming court sorcerer could help with all that you know.”
Merlin scoffed, “How?”
“The job would mostly be things you’re already doing, like with being Gaius’s assistant; You already know the non-magical treatments for healing. If you became court sorcerer, you could focus on improving your healing abilities. You said yourself you’re not great at healing magic. Once you’re more learnt on the magical side, you could focus on magical treatments, and Gaius could focus on the non-magical patients. Instead of being his assistant, you would be his colleague, and he could hire an errand boy to do the busy work you usually do, like drop off medicines, grab herbs, and clean the leech tank.”
Not having to clean the leech tank was certainly enticing; Arthur knew how much he loathed cleaning that thing.
“And as Camelot’s court sorcerer, it would be your sworn duty to protect the kingdom, including me as your king. You wouldn’t have to sneak around or hide to protect my ‘royal arse’. You would be free to investigate any possible threats without worrying about getting in trouble since it would be your job. Not to mention full access to the library and any resources you need.”
Merlin rolled his eyes, “Sometimes sneaking around is the only way to save your arse.”
“Fine, but afterwards, you wouldn’t have to come up with some lame excuse that gets you put in the stocks. You could say, ‘I was investigating a threat against the crown,’ and that would be the end of it.”
Merlin opened his mouth, but Arthur continued, “You would have the power to stop me from walking into a trap, and I would have to listen.”
Oh, he hated how wonderful that sounded. He grunted, “That never stops you.”
Arthur shrugged and leaned his head against his fist. “Still, wouldn’t it feel good to tell me what to do for a change?”
Merlin refused to admit just how much he would enjoy that. “Alright, what about being your manservant? I certainly can’t do your laundry, polish all your armour and do all my court duties.”
Arthur went back to flittering around with his parchments. “Easy, I get a new manservant.”
A hundred tiny thorns stabbed into his heart.
Merlin took a deep breath and moved to do- anything that involved not looking at Arthur. He glanced down, noticing the clothes he forgot to put away the night before, and gathered them in his arms. “Yeah, easy.”
“Merlin-”
“I mean, I’m a lousy manservant anyways. I’d be doing you a favour by taking the court sorcerer gig. That way, you won’t have to deal with my terrible manservant skills anymore,” he said, tossing the clothes to the bottom of Arthur’s wardrobe.
Arthur sighed, “That’s not what I meant, Merlin.”
“Well, what did you mean then?” Merlin asked sharply.
Arthur stood up, moving around his desk to stand in front of Merlin and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re not… completely terrible at the job. You do a decent job at polishing my armour and sword.”
“And?”
Arthur huffed, “And I’ll- it will be odd to have someone else waking me up every morning and bringing me food, but even when you’re court sorcerer, we’ll have to be around each other all the time. You’ll be one of my council members and have to attend meetings, except now you can tell Lord Faulks when he’s wrong instead of grumbling under your breath the entire meeting.” Merlin chuckled at that. “And as an advisor on all things magic, I’ll need your counsel on speeches, laws, and decrees. Especially these next few years while the kingdom adjusts to the ban being lifted. Honestly, it’ll be like nothing’s changed, except you won’t have to clean my room anymore.”
“Yeah?” Merlin’s heart squeezed at the thought. He wanted to believe so badly that things wouldn’t change too much.
Arthur smiled, “So much we’ll get sick of each other.”
“We’re already sick of each other.”
Arthur laughed, hitting him on the shoulder. “See, it’s working already.”
Merlin licked his lips, his mouth dry, before finally giving in. “Fine, I’ll be your court sorcerer.”
Smugly he replied, “Knew I’d get you to agree eventually.”
Merlin merely rolled his eyes, “Yeah, well, at least I won’t have to deal with your stinky socks anymore.”
2. Actions Speak Louder Than Words
Merlin tried to calm himself as he prepared himself for the ceremony. Today he would officially become Camelot’s court sorcerer. He looked into his new large mirror in his much bigger chambers, making sure he looked decent for the ceremony.
With his new position in the public eye, Arthur had insisted that Merlin needed a bigger room to get all his work done, not to mention, according to Arthur, his old room was much too small to fit company when someone needed to come talk to him about magic. So, Merlin was now in the rooms next to Arthur’s. The selling point being, if anyone tried to attack his royal pratface in the middle of the night, Merlin would be only one door away to stop it.
Merlin shook his head and tried to fix his unruly curls. He was debating whether cutting his hair before the ceremony might fix the problem when a certain blond waltzed right into his room.
He pointed to the door, “I know you’re the king, but there’s this thing called knocking. Ever heard of it?”
Arthur rolled his eyes, “Says the man who’s never knocked in his life.”
“I knock.”
“When?”
“When I go to Gwen’s house.”
“Good to know I’m special then,” Arthur grumbled as he stared at Merlin through the mirror. Merlin forced himself not to fidget. He stared for a long moment before he shook his head at Merlin. “Hm, no, not that shirt.”
Merlin looked down at the dark blue tunic he was wearing. He thought it looked nice. “What’s wrong with this one? It’s one of the ones you gave me.”
He looked back up and found Arthur looking through his wardrobe. “Nothing on a normal day, but today’s activities require something a little nicer.”
“Ah! Perfect.” Arthur walked over, and before Merlin could say anything, the prat was pulling his shirt off and shoving another one in his hands before turning towards the door. “Wear the black leather boots and the knights’ cape I got you. Yes, I know you’re not a knight, but it’s to show that, like the knights, you are a protector of Camelot.” And with that, Arthur went out the door.
Merlin rolled his eyes before changing. After buckling his boots, he looked at himself in the mirror. He had to admit he looked alright. The deep purple tunic went surprisingly well with the red of the cape.
Arthur’s sword gently tapped down on both his shoulders before withdrawing.
“Arise, Lord Merlin, Court Sorcerer of Camelot!”
He did so as the throne room filled with cheers. The knights, especially, were loud. Merlin grinned, his magic bubbling inside him as he turned to look at Arthur.
Arthur, who’s smiling so wide and brightly it outshone the crown on his head.
The smiles stayed there when they arrived side by side for the banquet and when Arthur dragged Merlin away from the knights’ table and shoved him unceremonially into the seat of honour next to him. Their endless laughs echoed throughout the hall as they whispered into each other’s ears all night long as people came up and congratulated Merlin on his new post and praised Arthur for his wise choices.
At the time, some of the congratulations and praises had seemed worded oddly, but Merlin had chalked it up to all the wine they had drunk.
Honestly, that should have been his second clue.
3. Quality Time Together
Merlin sighed, stretching his back after a particularly dull council meeting. He glanced at the other side of the table where Arthur was trying and failing to get out of a conversation with Lord Faulks.
If only Merlin hadn’t stayed up so late working on a potential barrier spell, then he wouldn’t have overslept, he would have been able to get a seat next to Arthur, and he could have glared at Lord Faulks until he left. The man always bothered Arthur less when Merlin was by his side. Sadly, Merlin couldn’t save him today. A circle of councilmen surrounded Arthur, all trying to get the king’s attention before he left for his next meeting.
No, Merlin would need to leave early for the next meeting to secure his spot next to Arthur. He relished how they could have a whole conversation with their eyes during a discussion.
When the ban lifted, he and Arthur had assumed they would spend all their time together unravelling problems, but it had been the opposite. Most days, they only saw each other during meetings. With Camelot without a court sorcerer for all these years, they were both scrambling to get everything in order. Every day Merlin had nobles and peasants alike coming to him about some magic problem. Some were worried they had been cursed or been given a cursed item and wanted Merlin to use magic to confirm or get rid of it. Others wanted to know if they had magic because they predicted something. Usually, it was something obvious, like when the baker would deliver their bread, or they guessed that Gwaine would come to the tavern that night.
He had many tasks he needed to keep up with, like audiences that involved magic, corresponding with magical allies, reading reports about how well the new laws on magic were holding, and reading up on magical antidotes. And while he was buried in paperwork, Arthur was dealing with the few hardline anti-magic nobles who championed his father’s rule. They were always looking for something to blame on magic in hopes they could change Arthur’s mind about lifting the ban.
With another sigh, Merlin got up from his seat and headed to the door. Gaius was rarely late to meetings. If he worked on his healing magic with him until the next meeting, he shouldn’t be late.
From behind him, he heard Arthur call out his name. He turned and watched as Arthur excused himself from the other council members and came over to his side.
“Quick, let’s go before they trap me again,” Arthur whispered, his hand pressed against his back as he pushed him out the door.
“That bad?”
Arthur groaned, “Lord Faulks keeps trying to get me to come to have dinner with his family. He’s trying to get me to court his niece.”
“Wait, the niece that likes to start fires?”
Arthur nodded grimly, “She also drinks a lot and thrives on chaos. Honestly, she’s like the female version of Gwaine.”
Merlin laughed, “Oh, you should definitely court her then. That be hilarious.” He regretted that sentence a moment later when Arthur clenched the fabric under his fingers and used his other arm to punch Merlin’s shoulder.
“Ow!” he said, rubbing the spot Arthur hit. “You know, I was hoping you’d stop hitting me when I stopped being your manservant. Clearly, that was too much to ask a clotpole like you.”
Arthur rolled his eyes and finally let go. “Anyways, I told him I couldn’t have dinner with his family tonight because I was having dinner with you, so come to my chambers at seven tonight and try not to be late for once, Merlin.”
“Oi, I could have had plans, you know.” He didn’t, but still.
“Do you?” Arthur said, raising his eyebrow.
“Well, no, but-”
“Good. See you at seven then.” Arthur said before opening the door to the royal treasurer for his next meeting.
Merlin swore, realising Arthur had got him to walk in the opposite direction to Gaius’s. He sighed. At least he had a good meal to look forward to.
Patting down the deep black tunic he changed into after a potion exploded on him earlier, Merlin raised his fist to knock on Arthur’s door, then decided against it and threw the doors open as he walked in.
He smirked as he heard the guards chuckle behind him.
Arthur looked up from his desk and tried to look put out. “No, don’t knock; it’s not like I’m doing anything important.”
“You were the one who told me not to be late for dinner, which; where is the food?”
Arthur rolled his eyes as he scribbled something on the paper in front of him. “Devon’s getting it now.”
Merlin snorted, “I still can’t believe you gave George a promotion after one week just so you could get rid of him.”
Arthur put away his quill and got up from his desk. “He’s too good of a servant. It was driving me mad. Besides, he’s doing an excellent job as head of the royal household staff.” It was true, the castle was running smoother than ever, and with George’s obsession with detail, even the pickiest of nobles found very little to complain about.
“You always complained that I was the worst, but you fired George because he was too good. Honestly, make up your mind Arthur.”
Arthur reached for the pitcher on the dining table and poured the wine into two goblets. “Shut up and drink your wine, Merlin.”
He smiled as he took the goblet from Arthur’s hand.
A knock on the door, and then Devon walked in, carrying a large tray of food to the table.
Merlin liked Devon; he was much more polite than Merlin ever was to Arthur, but he was firm despite only being nineteen years of age. He didn’t let any of the nobles bully their way into Arthur’s chambers and hid Arthur’s parchments at night so the king wouldn’t stay up all night working.
Arthur smiled as Devon finished placing all the food on the table. “Thank you, Devon. You can take the rest of the night off.”
Devon frowned, “But what about after dinner, sire? Surely, you’ll need help after dinner.”
“I’ll be fine. Enjoy your night off.”
Devon’s face scrunched up. “You have an early meeting tomorrow, so it would be unwise to stay up late reading reports that you could put off until the morning.”
Arthur sighed, “I promise not to stay up late reading reports; now go.”
Devon stood still, scrutinizing Arthur.
“Don’t worry, Devon, I’ll make sure he doesn’t work too much after dinner,” Merlin said, trying and failing to keep the mirth out of his voice as he spoke.
“Good,” he said, nodding to Merlin before bowing to them both. “Good night, Your Majesty, my lord.”
“Please don’t call me that,” Merlin groaned, but Devon was already out the door.
Arthur chuckled as he walked over to the table and sat down. “I don’t know which is more amusing, my manservant refusing to leave until you gave your approval or the face you just made when he called you my lord.”
“Hmm, I may have warned him you have a tendency to overwork yourself when you hired him,” Merlin said as he sat next to him.
Arthur groaned as he started piling food onto his plate. “I should have known you were behind it. He took a parchment right out of my hand his first week and threatened to throw it in the fire if I worked while I ate.”
Merlin nearly choked on his ham as he tried not to laugh.
Arthur gave him a mischievous look as he said, “You should get a manservant.”
“Why the hell would I do that? Unlike some people, I know how to dress myself.”
“They could keep your chambers tidy. Make sure you eat a proper meal for once. You’ve always been too thin.”
“That’s entirely your fault for making me run all over the castle for years,” Merlin said as he stole some poached pears off Arthur’s plate.
“Stop stealing from my plate! You have a perfectly good one right there.”
“Hmm. Taste better when I take it from yours.”
Arthur smacked his hand as he tried to take some carrots. “I can dress myself, you know. In fact, I dress on my own more days than not now.”
“Since when?”
“Since now.”
Merlin shook his head, chuckling as he said, “Can’t believe it, all those years you made me do it, and now your new servant doesn’t have to. Think of all the chores I could have done!”
“Just felt… weird, having someone else dressing me in the mornings,” Arthur said before stuffing a large piece of ham into his mouth.
He had secretly loathed the idea of another servant dressing and undressing Arthur every day. The thought that Arthur did, too, made Merlin smile, a cosy warmth circling his veins.
“Have you talked to Mordred recently?”
Merlin shook his head. “No, I’ve been too busy.”
Arthur snorted, “Sure you’re not avoiding him?”
Merlin was still a bit wary of the new knight, but after he had told Arthur of the prophecy, the three of them had a long conversation about prophecies, magic, and trust that ended with Arthur knighting Mordred.
“What did you two talk about?”
“He’s been helping the other knights during training practice against magic attacks. The problem is that there’s only one of him, and it’s starting to get in the way of his own swordsmanship practice. He suggested that maybe you could help.”
“You want me to blast spells at your precious knights?”
Arthur snorted, “Yes and don’t pretend you’re not aching to show them up. I heard you teasing Percival the other night that you’d knock down trees bigger than him.”
Merlin grinned, “I don’t know what you’re talking about; I’ve never said anything like that in my life, especially to Percival.” It would be fun to mess with the knights, plus he missed going to knight’s training. He loved shouting at the others during practice bouts with Elyan. Rolling his eyes with Leon when Arthur did something stupid and cocky. Playing pranks with Gwaine. “I suppose I could come down once or twice a week and help out.”
Arthur grinned.
They spent the rest of the night drinking too much wine and planning the magic defence drills for training. It was late when Merlin finally got up from his spot next to Arthur on the rug in front of the fireplace. “Ugh, it’s late. I should get going.”
Arthur nodded, and he stood up as well. “Devon’s going to kill me in the morning for staying up so late.”
Merlin laughed, “Probably me, too, since I promised to keep an eye on you.”
“Well, at least you’ll die with me then,” Arthur joked, looking fondly into Merlin’s eyes.
“Yeah, this was fun.” Merlin’s heart fluttered against his will. I've missed staying up late talking with you, of having you all to myself, he thought quietly. “I’ve missed this.”
“So have I.” Arthur licked his lips. “We should make this a regular thing. Once a week, we have dinner. So we can talk about training and other Camelot business.”
“Yeah, like the potential squad of magical knights you mentioned.”
“Exactly! We need to discuss all the pros and cons of the idea thoroughly before we even think of bringing it up to the council.”
Merlin smirked. “Which means dinners, once a week, every week, for the foreseeable future."
“Good, then it’s decided.” He reached over and pressed his hand lightly against Merlin’s shoulder. Arthur's voice soft as he said, “Good night Merlin."
“Good night, Arthur,” Merlin said just as softly as he walked away. As he reached the doors, he smiled at Arthur once more before he opened the door and left.
4. Spending the Night Together
The feast was in full swing, everyone laughing and enjoying the food thanks to a good spring harvest. Merlin snickered as he watched from his usual spot next to Arthur at the high table as Lancelot tried to stop Gwaine and Elyan from making a mess at the no-hands eating competition they were engaged in. He took another sip and hiccupped.
“Oh dear, you’re hiccupping, next you’ll….” Arthur slurred.
“I’ll what?” Merlin slurred back.
“What?”
“You said that I was hick-hiscup-hiccupping.”
“Right! You’re hiccupping, which means… which means you’re drunk… which means you’ll throw up soon.”
“I am not!” Merlin said with a hiccup.
Arthur shook his head, “What do you know, Merlin, you’re drunk.”
“So are you!”
“I’m not, I can… what was I saying?”
Merlin hiccupped, “You were saying you’re not drunk.”
“Yes! You see, unlike you, Merlin, I can hold my….”
“Drink?”
“Yes, that! I can hold my drink. Now come on, let’s you to bed before you get sick.” Arthur shakily got up and dragged Merlin up from his seat as well.
Merlin grumbled, but the hiccups didn’t help his case, so by the time they made it to the door, passed the knights cheering rowdily at them for some unexplainable reason, he gave in. Which probably was for the best because it seemed they were both swaying a bit as they walked. Arthur nearly ran into a wall three times before Merlin wrapped his right arm around him to keep him on course.
A moment later, Arthur swung his arm around Merlin’s back, curling his fingers around his waist as his head dipped slightly towards Merlin’s. They didn’t talk as they walked, both focusing on staying upright and not swerving into another wall.
It felt good, felt right having his arm around Arthur and vice versa.
He opened his mouth, not thinking what he was going to say when he heard loud footsteps behind him.
Arthur cursed and suddenly pushed them behind a banner.
“What-” Merlin started, but Arthur put his hand over his mouth.
“Shush. The people can’t see their king so intoxicated.”
Merlin tried to tell him they had all seen him just as intoxicated during the feast, but Arthur still had his hand over his mouth, so his words were muffled. He stared into Arthur’s eyes and felt his body burn at the feeling of Arthur’s front pressed so snugly against his. He felt the heat coming off Arthur’s body on his own.
His breath felt heavy. He looked at Arthur’s lips. They were so close he felt when Arthur breathed out of his lips. All he would have to do is lean forward and-“You think they’re gone?”
Arthur took a deep breath, “I-Yeah, I think so.” He then lifted the banner for them both to go through.
Merlin shook his head as he did. Gods, he almost ruined his friendship with Arthur by kissing him!
“Come on, let’s go before someone else walks by,” Merlin said, grabbing Arthur’s hand. From the corner of his eye, he saw Arthur nod.
They crept quietly the rest of the way, well, as quiet as two drunken men could.
When they reached Arthur’s chambers, Merlin followed him inside, knowing from experience that Arthur would have difficulty undressing himself this drunk.
“Arms up,” Merlin said as he started pulling Arthur’s clothes off.
“I can do it on my own, Merlin,” Arthur grumbled, still he raised his arms.
“Sure, you can.”
He struggled with Arthur’s boots as Arthur refused to sit down until after he got them off. Quickly pulling off his belt, he walked to Arthur’s wardrobe and pulled out his sleeping pants. Arthur loathed wearing a shirt to sleep when he was drunk. Said it made him too warm.
“I’ll prove it,” Arthur said, smacking his lips together.
Even after all these months and being very drunk, it was easy to get back into the motions of undressing Arthur.
“Yeah, how?” pulling Arthur’s sleep trousers on, he said, “There. Ready for bed.”
Arthur reached over and grabbed the bottom of Merlin’s shirt. “By helping you get ready for bed,” he said as he pulled Merlin’s shirt off.
“Arthur!”
Merlin tried to squirm away, but it was hard with his head stuck in his shirt.
He laughed as it took Arthur another minute to figure out how to get his shirt off. And then his mouth went dry as Arthur got down on his knees, put Merlin’s hand on his shoulder, and pulled Merlin’s boots off.
His heart was beating rapidly as Arthur loosened his trousers, his fingers lightly brushing the skin below his belly button.
He nearly cried in relief when Arthur got up and went to his wardrobe.
“Here, you can borrow these,” Arthur said before dropping down again and pulling him out of his trousers and into Arthur’s sleep ones.
Merlin just nodded, feeling much less drunk than he had ten minutes ago, yet his head felt just as foggy.
Before he knew it, Arthur stood up again, pulling a shirt over Merlin’s head and shepherding him towards the bed. “Hurry up.”
Rather than try to argue, he got under the covers, planning to sneak out as soon as Arthur fell asleep.
He felt Arthur slide into the sheets next to him. “Merlin, the candles.”
“You get them. I’m comfy.”
Arthur snorted, “Use your magic.”
“Oh, right.” He mumbled a quick spell, the candles went out, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the morning sun shone down on him, and his head was pressed next to Arthur’s. His arms firmly wrapped around Arthur’s waist.
In hindsight, he could see why people misunderstood the events of that particular night.
5. Acting like a Married Couple
“Merlin, smile,” Arthur whispered as yet another lord greeted them.
It was the beginning of summer, which meant Camelot’s annual jousting tournament. While Merlin had been planning to come and cheer on his friends, Arthur had decided to participate and make Merlin rule over the event, which meant Merlin had to join him in greeting all the knights and visiting lords coming to watch say event.
“Lord Rowan, welcome to Camelot. It’s a pleasure to meet you. This is my court sorcerer, Merlin.” Arthur said as he shook the man’s hand.
“I hate you,” Merlin whispered back as he plastered a polite but fake smile on his smile as he greeted a visiting Lord from Nemeth, Lord Rowan.
“Hate me all you want. You’re not getting out of this,” Arthur whispered back.
Rowan smiled, “Please, the pleasure is all my King Arthur and Lord Merlin.”
“Please, Lord Rowan, call me Merlin. I’m not much for titles.”
“Then you must pay me the honour of calling me Rowan then.”
“It’s a deal,” Merlin said. Rowan seemed alright as far as lords went.
“And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Now, George, there will take you to your rooms.” Arthur cut in.
Rowan bowed and gave them an oddly amused look before walking off towards the castle.
“He seemed nice, weird but nice,” Merlin said.
Arthur shrugged, “You said the same when you met Princess Mithian during the Winter Solstice. Maybe it’s a Nemeth thing.”
Merlin thought he was probably right.
Merlin had never been more grateful for his friendship with Gwen than during the tournament. The good friend that she was, she sat in the King’s box with him and kept him from looking like an idiot. Since he was presiding over the event, he wasn’t allowed to cheer during the matches so as not to show favouritism, but he could after, so they clapped and cheered loudly after each winner was announced. The only exception was Arthur’s matches. Gwen said people expected him to cheer for Arthur. He joked that he would jeer when Arthur came on instead. Gwen smacked his arm and laughed.
Still, when the final match arrived, and Arthur faced off against Sir Ulrich from Escetir, Merlin cheered so loudly his throat hurt.
He found his voice as he raised Arthur’s arm and announced him the winner before using magic to make a beautiful flower crown with red and yellow flowers appear on Arthur’s head.
Arthur’s confused frown quickly turned into a bright and joyful laugh as he reached and touched his new crown, making all the annoyances of the tournament suddenly worthwhile.
The end of the tournament feast was in full swing, everyone having the greatest of times. Merlin smirked at Gwaine for the third time that night as he tried and failed to nick Arthur’s flower crown, teasing that it would look better on him.
“Merlin, can’t you do a spell to stop Gwaine? I rather not spend the whole night fending him off.”
He frowned, “Unless you want it stuck to your head forever, I suggest my magic, and I stay out of it.”
Arthur groaned while Gwaine cheered, “Merlin can’t save you now!”
“Well, if Sir Gwaine does steal it, Merlin could always make the King a new one,” Lord Rowan said, chuckling at their antics.
“Then I’ll steal that one too! Merlin can make as many as he likes for Arthur, and I’ll steal them all.”
Merlin turned to Arthur, “I’m not making you an infinite amount of flower crowns.”
“You won’t need to because Gwaine’s never going to get to this one,” he said, smacking Gwaine’s hand down from another attack. “Oh, look, Gwaine, they’re brought out more wine.”
“I’ll be back!”
Arthur leaned against Merlin and sighed. “Hopefully, that’ll distract him for a while.”
Merlin nodded, “You got an hour at least.”
“So is Sir Gwaine always this… colourful?”
“Unfortunately,” Arthur joked.
Rowan laughed, “Well then, if it’s not too bold of me to say, I look forward to seeing him like this at your wedding.”
Merlin frowned and looked at Arthur, who seemed equally confused.
Arthur coughed, “I’m sorry, Lord Rowan, it’s a bit loud here. I must have misheard you. Whose wedding did you say?”
“No apologies needed. I was speaking of yours and Merlin’s.” Rowan said, smiling widely. “I must say it’s wonderful to see a betrothed couple as happy and in love as you two are. I hope Nemeth will be as lucky as Camelot is when Princess Mithian marries.”
Merlin opened and closed his mouth twice before he found his voice. “Rowan, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
Rowan frowned, “Oh, my apologies. Are you not at the betrothed stage yet? When you do, please send me a letter so I can give you my heartfelt congratulations.”
Arthur grimaced, “The thing is, Merlin and I aren’t a couple.”
Rowan blinked. He then looked at Arthur and then Merlin and frowned deeply. “I see my mistake then. Excuse me, King Arthur, Merlin.” He said before hastily he ran away.
+1
“And then Rowan just ran off. It was all just so weird. I mean, what could have possibly led him to believe Arthur and I are a couple?” Merlin said, pacing around Gwen and Lancelot’s home.
After Rowan’s outlandish statement, Merlin had desperately wanted to talk to someone about it, for someone else to say that it was ridiculous too, but everyone had been too drunk at the feast. And he certainly couldn’t talk to Arthur about it, so he left early, tossing and turning all night and ran down to Gwen and Lancelot’s as soon as the sun came up.
“Hmm, maybe, everything you and Arthur say and do?” Gwen said, wiping her eye as she yawned.
“What!”
He turned to Lancelot only to have his other best friend betray him. “It's more surprising that you’re not courting.”
“That can’t possibly be true.”
Gwen bit her lip. “Merlin, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but everyone in the castle already thinks you two are a couple.”
“Name one time we acted like a couple!”
“You sit next to him during every feast.”
“The purple shirt Arthur gave you.”
“Arthur, send you all those courting gifts.”
“You have private dinners together.”
“Sarah saw you two getting cosy under a banner during the spring harvest while she was going around preparing fires in the guest chambers.”
“And Devon said you were curled up in bed together the next morning.”
“Devon said what,” Merlin said, his face turning red. He took back everything he said about liking him.
“Don’t be mad. He only told me,” Gwen said, grinning widely. “He wasn’t sure what to do and repeatedly asked me not to tell anyone since he knows how much Arthur likes his privacy.”
“Though the guards saw you slink out of Arthur’s chambers in the clothes you were wearing the night before, so the whole castle knows anyways,” Lancelot said, looking far too amused by all of this.
“Ok, I sit next to him at every feast to show Arthur's commitment to making things right for the magical community. I wore that shirt because Arthur told me to. Arthur wasn’t sending me courting gifts; those were bribes to get me to take the court sorcerer position, those dinners are mostly business dinners, and we weren’t getting cosy under the banner. We were just very drunk, which is how I ended up passing out in his bed. Nothing happened!” Merlin ranted.
“So you’re not courting Arthur?” Lancelot asked.
“Oh god, you thought we were courting too? Did the others think that as well?”
Their faces said it all. Shit.
“I think I need to sit down,” Merlin said as he slowly moved into his seat. “So everyone for months has thought we were together. Why didn’t everyone say anything!”
Gwen threw up her hands, “We did! I hugged you and told you how excited I was for you both!”
“I thought you were talking about Arthur finally succeeding in annoying me into becoming court sorcerer!”
“And I told you if you ever needed to talk out your feelings or vent about Arthur, I was here for you.”
“Again, I thought you were talking about me being court sorcerer.”
Merlin dropped his head onto the table and groaned. This was a disaster.
He glanced up at his friends and frowned as they exchanged odd looks. “What?”
Lancelot licked his lips, “Do you think there might be a reason why everyone so easily believed you two were together?"
Merlin opened his mouth, then closed it shaking his head.
“You should talk to Arthur, and I mean really talk to him. If you do and are honest, I think you’ll be pleased that you did,” Gwen said, reaching over and squeezing his hand.
Merlin dropped his head back onto the table and groaned.
He decided to take the long way back to the castle. Taking his time to think as he walked through the streets. Past the markets and houses, the courtyard, through the halls until he finally stood in front of Arthur’s chambers. And for once, he knocked.
It felt wrong and terrible, and he silently vowed never to do it again as Arthur called out, “You may enter.”
He pushed through the doors and found Arthur already dressed, staring down his window. He glanced at Merlin for a moment before looking down at his hands as he said, “I went to your chambers earlier. You weren’t there.”
“I woke up early and went to see Gwen and Lancelot.” Merlin swallowed, his feet no longer able to move any closer than the centre of the room. The distance between them a wide chasm.
He watched as the tension left Arthur’s shoulders. His heart thumped loudly. Why had that bothered Arthur?
“The whole castle thinks we’re courting,” he blurted out, wincing. He probably could have stated that better.
“What?”
“I thought what Rowan said last night seemed odd, so I went to talk to Gwen and Lancelot, and they basically told me that everyone thinks, including them, that we’ve been courting for months. Pretty much since I began court sorcerer.”
“Oh.”
Merlin didn’t know what to say to that, so he kept rambling, “Yeah, apparently everyone thought that the gifts were, you know, courting gifts. And the fact that I always sit next to you at feasts meant something, not to mention all our private dinners and every other little interaction between us makes people think we’re a couple.”
He was usually so good at reading Arthur’s face, and yet he couldn’t make heads or tails of Arthur’s expression as he said, “I see.”
Merlin scoffed, “That’s all you have to say, I see?”
“What do you want me to say?”
Merlin threw up his hands, “I don’t know, maybe how it makes you feel! Do you hate the idea?”
“…No.”
That one word felt like he was riding on Kilgarrah’s back as he soared through the sky. “Do you like the idea?”
Arthur licked his lips. “The idea of us being…?”
“A couple.”
“Do you?”
He carefully took in Arthur’s face, the blue of his eyes, before he took two steps towards Arthur, away from his spot in the middle of the room. “Yes.”
Arthur’s head ripped up in surprise before a slow-growing smile appeared. “Me too.”
They both moved forward, meeting next to Arthur’s desk, reaching for each other before finally pressing their lips together.
Merlin groaned, “Do we have to go?”
Arthur squeezed his hips, “Merlin, we’re the hosts. We have to be there to send off our guests.”
“Maybe you do, as King.”
“Well, seeing as we’re courting, you do too. Now, come on,” Arthur said, grabbing Merlin by the hand and tugging him out of his chambers.
And if they were late because Merlin kept complaining and the only way Arthur could shut him up was by kissing him well, their guests didn’t seem to mind. Lord Rowan especially was tickled pink by it.