In the Cave
Title: In the Cave
Recipient:shadowspun
Author: paintedpigeon
Rating: G
Pairing/s: Leon/Merlin
Summary: Merlin and Leon cuddle for warmth in a cave full of Uther's knights, and Leon has something he wants to share.
Warnings: fluff, almost hypothermia, magic reveal (-ish)
Word Count: 1.3k
Author's Notes:
Disclaimer:Merlin is owned by the BBC and Shine. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. Don't send us to the dungeons.
Merlin wraps the blanket tightly around himself. Goddess, it's cold tonight.
He wishes he could start a fire. But... he glances at Leon, laid down beside him. First Knight of Camelot. He can't use magic in front of him, it'd be tantamount to suicide.
And it's not just Leon here. If it was the Knights of the Round Table, maybe he'd risk it. But it's not. Apart from Leon, the others are all knights he doesn't know. He's not risking it in front of them. Even if, and it's a big if, Leon would give him a chance, the other knights never would.
It's freezing. His teeth chatter, the sound loud in the quiet of the cave. He also wishes he hadn't refused Arthur's offer of a thicker blanket. He'd just wanted to make it easier for him, so early in his kingship, with the rest of the council disapproving of their closeness, but it's so cold.
He sits up and shuffles against the wall, blowing on his hands and rubbing them together. Hell, even this wall is warmer than him, he can't feel his toes even under the blanket.
The wind whistles through the cave tunnels. Could he even light a fire? Would it be possible to keep it alight, even using magic? He doesn't often try, knowing some of the Round Table knights especially have experience of trying to light fires in adverse conditions and might get suspicious, but he does wonder. He wishes he knew more about his own magic.
He's not shivering so much now. That's bad, right?
He's not sure anymore. He's not sure of much anymore.
"Merlin?"
Merlin hums. There's a heavy sigh.
"Merlin, c'mere." Merlin starts to follow the voice. "With your blanket."
Oh. Oh, a blanket. He picks it up and drags it behind him until he reaches the voice.
Hmm.
A knight.
"Not getting you anything," he murmurs.
"I wasn't asking you to," says the groggy, slurred voice. "Just get under here."
Merlin drops and crawls over, pressing against whoever it is. They're very warm. They're... tall... ginger curls...
Oh. Right. Oh, Leon. Of course.
Leon doesn't order him to fetch things. Leon's nice.
His brain is fuzzy.
"That's hypothermia. You're getting hypothermia."
"How d'you know?"
There's an exasperated sigh. "You taught me. And you'd know it too if you weren't confused. It's no wonder. You're a damn ice block."
"Mmm." The words barely filter through. One side of him is warming up now, and he snuggles up against the person beside him. "Warm."
His hair is ruffled. "I'm really not. Come on. Both blankets, my cloak, and we should both survive the night." Merlin fumbles, helping draw the blankets over himself and Leon. After a few minutes he warms up enough to start shivering.
"That's better. Give me your hands."
Merlin curls his feet up in his boots, hoping that'll warm them up a bit (they're not wet, he doesn't need to take them off, but he still can't feel his toes). He tells himself he lets Leon help him because he has to, but that's not strictly true. He might not trust most Camelot knights but he trusts Leon, possibly more than he should.
Leon's always been good to Merlin, even when he'd only just moved to Camelot as an overwhelmed, homesick teenager. If Merlin was going to trust any of Uther's knights, it would be Leon.
He's always been more Arthur's than Uther's anyway.
That's part of the reason he holds out his hands for Leon to take. Leon presses them together between his own, far larger ones. They're calloused and soft at the same time, and warm.
"Blocks of ice. Can't you warm them up? Stop yourself getting hypothermia?"
"I c-c-can't light a-a-a f-f-f-fire in-in th-th-this," replies Merlin through chattering teeth. Does Leon think he can work miracles?
It had better not be the other option. It can't be. His heart leaps.
"Not like that, I'd never expect you to. I mean with your magic." Merlin tenses, preparing to run, heart pounding, his life flashing in front of his eyes, along with all the worst scenarios.
Dragged back to Camelot in chains. Cold iron. Burning at the stake. The gallows. Beheading. Stabbed. The betrayed look on Arthur's face. Merlin's friends killing or imprisoning him, abandoning him. Gaius-
"Hey. Hey."
Merlin looks up and realises that he's struggling, though he hasn't quite pulled away yet. Why not?
"I'm not arresting you."
Leon's going to kill him then. He closes his eyes, not quite prepared to run. He hoped Leon might give him a chance, but then... well. He was brought up in Camelot.
"I'm not going to kill you either. If I was going to do either of those things, I'd have done it months ago."
"M-m-months?" whispers Merlin, horrified. Months? Leon's known for months?
"Yes. Months. You're not as good at hiding as you think you are. Do you really think I'd do anything to you now?"
Merlin shrugs one shoulder, trying to not-so-subtly free himself from the blanket prison if he needs to.
"O-o-optimal m-m-moment?"
"Do you really think this is one? I don't know how to reassure you. I thought keeping you safe might help, but..."
Merlin thinks back to a few months ago, when Leon had spent a few weeks watching him with intent curiosity and Merlin had been worried - apparently, at least partly, for good reason. Then he'd had very good timing and luck with Arthur being called away or looking in a different direction, a lot of it down to...
Down to Leon.
"Oh."
"Oh?"
Merlin swallows. "You saved me. You tried to. Thank you."
Leon ruffles Merlin's hair again, and Merlin can hear the tentative smile in his voice. "I would never have let you burn. Even if I wasn't-"
He stops abruptly, and Merlin tenses. "W-w-wasn't wh-what? L-l-leon?"
"It's nothing."
"No, s-s-seriously, wh-what?"
"It's nothing, all right. Nothing serious. I'll tell you later."
Merlin nods, slightly unsettled. But he can't see how Leon's statement could've ended terribly for him. ‘Even if I wasn't planning on killing you myself after saving you from freezing to death’? That would be silly. Wouldn't it? Not to mention how careful Leon's speech usually is. If he was planning something like that he wouldn't let it slip.
And honourable. The knight is honourable. Too much so to do a thing like that.
Merlin hopes.
"So, can you warm yourself up? Warm us both up even? I think I'm growing icicles."
"You c-can't grow icicles. And, n-no. I d-don't kn-know how, and I h-h-haven't r-r-really... l-l-learned th-that m-much about m-my own m-magic." He has things he learned to do as a child, of course, butterflies and horses and moving objects, and spells, mostly healing and combat, from Gaius' books, but he's never learned how to heat himself without a fire. He certainly has no idea how it works.
"I'm sorry."
"It's n-not your f-fault." He pauses, then amends, "N-not entirely y-your fault."
"I know you don't trust me now. That's fair. But will you at least trust me enough to come back fully into the blanket cocoon and not freeze to death? Arthur will kill me."
Merlin wriggles back down, front pressed to Leon's chest, arms wrapped around each other. It's the best way to conserve warmth.
Leon pulls the blankets back snugly over the pair of them, and his hand lays to rest on Merlin's cheek. It's hard and calloused and yet weirdly soft in places, and also big and surprisingly warm. Merlin lets his eyes drift shut.
There's something important that Leon has to know before he falls asleep. It's very important that he tells him now.
"Not bad at hiding. I hid my magic for years before you found out."
"Yes. Now sleep. Before it starts to get light again."
Merlin hums an agreement. He feels cosy and warm here. Leon feels good.
Maybe, if he's still alive in the morning, he'll tell Leon how much he loves him.
Recipient:shadowspun
Author: paintedpigeon
Rating: G
Pairing/s: Leon/Merlin
Summary: Merlin and Leon cuddle for warmth in a cave full of Uther's knights, and Leon has something he wants to share.
Warnings: fluff, almost hypothermia, magic reveal (-ish)
Word Count: 1.3k
Author's Notes:
Disclaimer:Merlin is owned by the BBC and Shine. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. Don't send us to the dungeons.
Merlin wraps the blanket tightly around himself. Goddess, it's cold tonight.
He wishes he could start a fire. But... he glances at Leon, laid down beside him. First Knight of Camelot. He can't use magic in front of him, it'd be tantamount to suicide.
And it's not just Leon here. If it was the Knights of the Round Table, maybe he'd risk it. But it's not. Apart from Leon, the others are all knights he doesn't know. He's not risking it in front of them. Even if, and it's a big if, Leon would give him a chance, the other knights never would.
It's freezing. His teeth chatter, the sound loud in the quiet of the cave. He also wishes he hadn't refused Arthur's offer of a thicker blanket. He'd just wanted to make it easier for him, so early in his kingship, with the rest of the council disapproving of their closeness, but it's so cold.
He sits up and shuffles against the wall, blowing on his hands and rubbing them together. Hell, even this wall is warmer than him, he can't feel his toes even under the blanket.
The wind whistles through the cave tunnels. Could he even light a fire? Would it be possible to keep it alight, even using magic? He doesn't often try, knowing some of the Round Table knights especially have experience of trying to light fires in adverse conditions and might get suspicious, but he does wonder. He wishes he knew more about his own magic.
He's not shivering so much now. That's bad, right?
He's not sure anymore. He's not sure of much anymore.
"Merlin?"
Merlin hums. There's a heavy sigh.
"Merlin, c'mere." Merlin starts to follow the voice. "With your blanket."
Oh. Oh, a blanket. He picks it up and drags it behind him until he reaches the voice.
Hmm.
A knight.
"Not getting you anything," he murmurs.
"I wasn't asking you to," says the groggy, slurred voice. "Just get under here."
Merlin drops and crawls over, pressing against whoever it is. They're very warm. They're... tall... ginger curls...
Oh. Right. Oh, Leon. Of course.
Leon doesn't order him to fetch things. Leon's nice.
His brain is fuzzy.
"That's hypothermia. You're getting hypothermia."
"How d'you know?"
There's an exasperated sigh. "You taught me. And you'd know it too if you weren't confused. It's no wonder. You're a damn ice block."
"Mmm." The words barely filter through. One side of him is warming up now, and he snuggles up against the person beside him. "Warm."
His hair is ruffled. "I'm really not. Come on. Both blankets, my cloak, and we should both survive the night." Merlin fumbles, helping draw the blankets over himself and Leon. After a few minutes he warms up enough to start shivering.
"That's better. Give me your hands."
Merlin curls his feet up in his boots, hoping that'll warm them up a bit (they're not wet, he doesn't need to take them off, but he still can't feel his toes). He tells himself he lets Leon help him because he has to, but that's not strictly true. He might not trust most Camelot knights but he trusts Leon, possibly more than he should.
Leon's always been good to Merlin, even when he'd only just moved to Camelot as an overwhelmed, homesick teenager. If Merlin was going to trust any of Uther's knights, it would be Leon.
He's always been more Arthur's than Uther's anyway.
That's part of the reason he holds out his hands for Leon to take. Leon presses them together between his own, far larger ones. They're calloused and soft at the same time, and warm.
"Blocks of ice. Can't you warm them up? Stop yourself getting hypothermia?"
"I c-c-can't light a-a-a f-f-f-fire in-in th-th-this," replies Merlin through chattering teeth. Does Leon think he can work miracles?
It had better not be the other option. It can't be. His heart leaps.
"Not like that, I'd never expect you to. I mean with your magic." Merlin tenses, preparing to run, heart pounding, his life flashing in front of his eyes, along with all the worst scenarios.
Dragged back to Camelot in chains. Cold iron. Burning at the stake. The gallows. Beheading. Stabbed. The betrayed look on Arthur's face. Merlin's friends killing or imprisoning him, abandoning him. Gaius-
"Hey. Hey."
Merlin looks up and realises that he's struggling, though he hasn't quite pulled away yet. Why not?
"I'm not arresting you."
Leon's going to kill him then. He closes his eyes, not quite prepared to run. He hoped Leon might give him a chance, but then... well. He was brought up in Camelot.
"I'm not going to kill you either. If I was going to do either of those things, I'd have done it months ago."
"M-m-months?" whispers Merlin, horrified. Months? Leon's known for months?
"Yes. Months. You're not as good at hiding as you think you are. Do you really think I'd do anything to you now?"
Merlin shrugs one shoulder, trying to not-so-subtly free himself from the blanket prison if he needs to.
"O-o-optimal m-m-moment?"
"Do you really think this is one? I don't know how to reassure you. I thought keeping you safe might help, but..."
Merlin thinks back to a few months ago, when Leon had spent a few weeks watching him with intent curiosity and Merlin had been worried - apparently, at least partly, for good reason. Then he'd had very good timing and luck with Arthur being called away or looking in a different direction, a lot of it down to...
Down to Leon.
"Oh."
"Oh?"
Merlin swallows. "You saved me. You tried to. Thank you."
Leon ruffles Merlin's hair again, and Merlin can hear the tentative smile in his voice. "I would never have let you burn. Even if I wasn't-"
He stops abruptly, and Merlin tenses. "W-w-wasn't wh-what? L-l-leon?"
"It's nothing."
"No, s-s-seriously, wh-what?"
"It's nothing, all right. Nothing serious. I'll tell you later."
Merlin nods, slightly unsettled. But he can't see how Leon's statement could've ended terribly for him. ‘Even if I wasn't planning on killing you myself after saving you from freezing to death’? That would be silly. Wouldn't it? Not to mention how careful Leon's speech usually is. If he was planning something like that he wouldn't let it slip.
And honourable. The knight is honourable. Too much so to do a thing like that.
Merlin hopes.
"So, can you warm yourself up? Warm us both up even? I think I'm growing icicles."
"You c-can't grow icicles. And, n-no. I d-don't kn-know how, and I h-h-haven't r-r-really... l-l-learned th-that m-much about m-my own m-magic." He has things he learned to do as a child, of course, butterflies and horses and moving objects, and spells, mostly healing and combat, from Gaius' books, but he's never learned how to heat himself without a fire. He certainly has no idea how it works.
"I'm sorry."
"It's n-not your f-fault." He pauses, then amends, "N-not entirely y-your fault."
"I know you don't trust me now. That's fair. But will you at least trust me enough to come back fully into the blanket cocoon and not freeze to death? Arthur will kill me."
Merlin wriggles back down, front pressed to Leon's chest, arms wrapped around each other. It's the best way to conserve warmth.
Leon pulls the blankets back snugly over the pair of them, and his hand lays to rest on Merlin's cheek. It's hard and calloused and yet weirdly soft in places, and also big and surprisingly warm. Merlin lets his eyes drift shut.
There's something important that Leon has to know before he falls asleep. It's very important that he tells him now.
"Not bad at hiding. I hid my magic for years before you found out."
"Yes. Now sleep. Before it starts to get light again."
Merlin hums an agreement. He feels cosy and warm here. Leon feels good.
Maybe, if he's still alive in the morning, he'll tell Leon how much he loves him.