Behind the Mask - part 7
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: Behind the mask - part 7
Rating: R
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: A drink, a seedy tavern as Arthur was chasing down rumours of a slaver in the neighbourhood, a slip into stupidity that he wasn’t proud of.
Warnings: talk of potential non-con but nothing explicit; foul language
Word Count: 1104
Camelot Drabble Prompt bingo 512: friend in need
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; They and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
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It worked surprisingly well. Merlin had contacts all over the kingdom and every time they went out on patrol, he would make friends with stable boys and the local midwives and overenthusiastic storytellers, sometimes gleaning so much information that it was hard to decide if the smugglers near Willowdale were spies for Mercia or just trying to avoid taxes.
Merlin was ever-cheerful, nodding to Arthur when the king would praise-faintly- Arthur’s efforts to ferret out problems and head them off before they became unmanageable.
It brought them closer together, too, trying to figure out what to do next as they ate late dinners in Arthur’s chambers and sharing secrets. Even Morgana noticed, although she didn’t say much other than give Arthur a smirk whenever he called Merlin to his side. The harpy.
Other things, though, were not going so well.
Arthur was still having nightmares about his time in Trag’s hands, and at times, remembering what Merlin had said while play-acting, was short with him.
And it was a little thing, but Arthur grew body shy. He had always been unconscious about his nakedness around Merlin. After all, a manservant was supposed to dress his master, bathe him, and tend to all his personal needs, to ignore pale skin and touch as little as possible while still getting things done.
Now, he would send Merlin away or else make sure to be dressed when Merlin came to do chores. Arthur insisted on bathing himself, and in the odd times he was naked when Merlin barged in, Arthur would grab something to cover himself and end up throwing a pillow or even a goblet at him and yell at him to get out.
Arthur hoped that Merlin would understand and leave him alone. But this was Merlin. He never let anything alone when he could jump in with both feet and make a mess of things.
So, of course, one night, candle-lit and quiet, they had just finished up something or other, Arthur pushing aside the documents, when Merlin put his hand on Arthur’s arm. “There’s something else I’d like to discuss. Something personal.”
Arthur’s heart began to race but he shoved down his worry. “I’m not giving you tomorrow off. You had a half-day last week.” He tried to pull away, but Merlin just gripped him tighter, keeping him captive.
“Not that, although I ended up using it to rescue you. Again.” Merlin sighed but didn’t let go. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Merlin, we see each other every day. I think that’s the opposite of avoiding, don’t you?” Arthur said, staring down at Merlin’s hand, wishing that he’d let go, wishing that he’d never let go. “Is there anything else?”
Looking worried, looking as if he wasn’t sure if what he had to say would be welcome, still Merlin pushed on, “Arthur, you don’t have to keep… I’ve umm…seen you naked lots of times. And while you should knock off the herb-crusted capons because I’m tired of loosening your belts, anyone would be happy to be so fit. You don’t have to hide from me.”
Shit. Merlin was going to talk about those days, about Trag and his humiliation. Trying to keep from discussing it further or at all, trying to warn Merlin that it wasn’t his place to talk about such things, his voice sharp and final, Arthur said, “Merlin, that is none of your business.”
But when did Merlin ever listen to him?
“It’s just that, well, you never cared if I saw you naked before, but since the… umm… incident, you… you changed. It’s just that you can be yourself around me, all right?” Merlin sounded almost distraught, as if it were his pain and not Arthur’s.
Arthur could feel Merlin’s worry burning through his skin, settling into his chest where shame still lived. And he was livid that Merlin would bring it up, that he felt Arthur had to talk about it when Arthur had made it very clear that he wanted to ignore it all.
Pulling away from Merlin, standing up and beginning to pace, no matter that his chest was full of hurt, Arthur snarled, “Good to know. I’ll just prance around my chambers naked all the time then, maybe have the court come in and inspect the goods. Comment on my fitness, list all my fine qualities, judge whether I’d be good for the arena or a brothel. Maybe have a go at me to see if I’m worthy of purchase. A mere fifteen gold coins and I’m all yours.”
“Arthur, no.” Getting up, following him around until he caught up with Arthur, Merlin grabbed again at Arthur’s arm, holding him still. “Are you still upset about it? I thought… you hide it well.”
“We all have secrets, hiding behind masks. Even you,” Arthur spat out, both trying to escape and to lean into Merlin’s warmth.
Merlin wasn’t letting go, instead pulled Arthur closer. Jostling him a little, Merlin said, “Listen to me, listen. Yes, it was awful, but I know you. A good man, someday a good king, and I’d follow you anywhere. It was an impossible situation and you had broken ribs, but you would have escaped somehow even without me. I’m sure of it.”
“You don’t know that.” Arthur shook his head, looking down at the floor, then choking back the tears that threatened to clog his throat, he said, “I’m damaged goods, Merlin. I can try and get past it, but I’ll always be that thing on the slave block. Not worthy of respect or love or devotion.”
“That’s… just not true. You may be a royal, condescending, supercilious prat at times but you are my prat, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. And as for damaged goods, hell, we all are.”
Merlin shifted then, putting his arm around Arthur’s shoulder, a half-hug that Arthur would have normally welcomed but now it just felt false. But Merlin’s heart had always been bigger than anyone Arthur had ever met before. His voice soft with regret and devotion, Merlin said, “I know it’s hard. Sometimes, the things I’ve done, I can’t breathe thinking about it, but I keep going. For you. Because you’re my world and I would do anything for you.”
“Merlin, I’m not worth it.” But Arthur didn’t pull away, just leaned into the warmth.
Merlin’s arm tightened around him. “Just breathe, Arthur, and know it will get better.”
“What am I going to do with you?” Arthur looked up then, into Merlin’s worried eyes.
Reaching up, and cupping Arthur’s face, in all sincerity, Merlin said, “Never let me go.”
Title: Behind the mask - part 7
Rating: R
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur
Summary: A drink, a seedy tavern as Arthur was chasing down rumours of a slaver in the neighbourhood, a slip into stupidity that he wasn’t proud of.
Warnings: talk of potential non-con but nothing explicit; foul language
Word Count: 1104
Camelot Drabble Prompt bingo 512: friend in need
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; They and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
----------------
It worked surprisingly well. Merlin had contacts all over the kingdom and every time they went out on patrol, he would make friends with stable boys and the local midwives and overenthusiastic storytellers, sometimes gleaning so much information that it was hard to decide if the smugglers near Willowdale were spies for Mercia or just trying to avoid taxes.
Merlin was ever-cheerful, nodding to Arthur when the king would praise-faintly- Arthur’s efforts to ferret out problems and head them off before they became unmanageable.
It brought them closer together, too, trying to figure out what to do next as they ate late dinners in Arthur’s chambers and sharing secrets. Even Morgana noticed, although she didn’t say much other than give Arthur a smirk whenever he called Merlin to his side. The harpy.
Other things, though, were not going so well.
Arthur was still having nightmares about his time in Trag’s hands, and at times, remembering what Merlin had said while play-acting, was short with him.
And it was a little thing, but Arthur grew body shy. He had always been unconscious about his nakedness around Merlin. After all, a manservant was supposed to dress his master, bathe him, and tend to all his personal needs, to ignore pale skin and touch as little as possible while still getting things done.
Now, he would send Merlin away or else make sure to be dressed when Merlin came to do chores. Arthur insisted on bathing himself, and in the odd times he was naked when Merlin barged in, Arthur would grab something to cover himself and end up throwing a pillow or even a goblet at him and yell at him to get out.
Arthur hoped that Merlin would understand and leave him alone. But this was Merlin. He never let anything alone when he could jump in with both feet and make a mess of things.
So, of course, one night, candle-lit and quiet, they had just finished up something or other, Arthur pushing aside the documents, when Merlin put his hand on Arthur’s arm. “There’s something else I’d like to discuss. Something personal.”
Arthur’s heart began to race but he shoved down his worry. “I’m not giving you tomorrow off. You had a half-day last week.” He tried to pull away, but Merlin just gripped him tighter, keeping him captive.
“Not that, although I ended up using it to rescue you. Again.” Merlin sighed but didn’t let go. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Merlin, we see each other every day. I think that’s the opposite of avoiding, don’t you?” Arthur said, staring down at Merlin’s hand, wishing that he’d let go, wishing that he’d never let go. “Is there anything else?”
Looking worried, looking as if he wasn’t sure if what he had to say would be welcome, still Merlin pushed on, “Arthur, you don’t have to keep… I’ve umm…seen you naked lots of times. And while you should knock off the herb-crusted capons because I’m tired of loosening your belts, anyone would be happy to be so fit. You don’t have to hide from me.”
Shit. Merlin was going to talk about those days, about Trag and his humiliation. Trying to keep from discussing it further or at all, trying to warn Merlin that it wasn’t his place to talk about such things, his voice sharp and final, Arthur said, “Merlin, that is none of your business.”
But when did Merlin ever listen to him?
“It’s just that, well, you never cared if I saw you naked before, but since the… umm… incident, you… you changed. It’s just that you can be yourself around me, all right?” Merlin sounded almost distraught, as if it were his pain and not Arthur’s.
Arthur could feel Merlin’s worry burning through his skin, settling into his chest where shame still lived. And he was livid that Merlin would bring it up, that he felt Arthur had to talk about it when Arthur had made it very clear that he wanted to ignore it all.
Pulling away from Merlin, standing up and beginning to pace, no matter that his chest was full of hurt, Arthur snarled, “Good to know. I’ll just prance around my chambers naked all the time then, maybe have the court come in and inspect the goods. Comment on my fitness, list all my fine qualities, judge whether I’d be good for the arena or a brothel. Maybe have a go at me to see if I’m worthy of purchase. A mere fifteen gold coins and I’m all yours.”
“Arthur, no.” Getting up, following him around until he caught up with Arthur, Merlin grabbed again at Arthur’s arm, holding him still. “Are you still upset about it? I thought… you hide it well.”
“We all have secrets, hiding behind masks. Even you,” Arthur spat out, both trying to escape and to lean into Merlin’s warmth.
Merlin wasn’t letting go, instead pulled Arthur closer. Jostling him a little, Merlin said, “Listen to me, listen. Yes, it was awful, but I know you. A good man, someday a good king, and I’d follow you anywhere. It was an impossible situation and you had broken ribs, but you would have escaped somehow even without me. I’m sure of it.”
“You don’t know that.” Arthur shook his head, looking down at the floor, then choking back the tears that threatened to clog his throat, he said, “I’m damaged goods, Merlin. I can try and get past it, but I’ll always be that thing on the slave block. Not worthy of respect or love or devotion.”
“That’s… just not true. You may be a royal, condescending, supercilious prat at times but you are my prat, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. And as for damaged goods, hell, we all are.”
Merlin shifted then, putting his arm around Arthur’s shoulder, a half-hug that Arthur would have normally welcomed but now it just felt false. But Merlin’s heart had always been bigger than anyone Arthur had ever met before. His voice soft with regret and devotion, Merlin said, “I know it’s hard. Sometimes, the things I’ve done, I can’t breathe thinking about it, but I keep going. For you. Because you’re my world and I would do anything for you.”
“Merlin, I’m not worth it.” But Arthur didn’t pull away, just leaned into the warmth.
Merlin’s arm tightened around him. “Just breathe, Arthur, and know it will get better.”
“What am I going to do with you?” Arthur looked up then, into Merlin’s worried eyes.
Reaching up, and cupping Arthur’s face, in all sincerity, Merlin said, “Never let me go.”