[Fic] Loud As Hope - for kathkin
Title: Loud As Hope
Author: heather11483
Recipient: kathkin
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Merlin/Arthur/Gwen
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Technically 2x12, though this story could exist almost independently of series 2 canon
Rating: light R
Word Count: 4285
Summary: Three lonely people come together in the absence of the fourth.
Author's Note: kathkin, I really hope you enjoy this! Thanks so much to my beta and to the wonderful mods of this fest, who have been patient to extremes.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction - none of this ever happened. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
When they find Gwen in Morgana's chambers after dinner, they aren't exactly looking for her. Arthur has a lot to prepare ahead of the trade talks in two days' time, which means Merlin himself has about twice as much to do as usual (these things trickle down). They are on their way to Arthur's chambers so that Arthur can pore over scrolls and Merlin can deal with the more stubborn scuffs on Arthur's boots. But Morgana's chambers are on the way, and Gwen is hard to miss. She flits from bed to side table to vanity, arranging fresh flowers in a vase and dusting. There'll always be dust.
It isn't that she hasn't got anything else to do, Merlin knows - she's been given a seamstress position in the castle that keeps her busy throughout the day. Still, this isn't the first time she's been back to the room where she used to spend most of her time, nor does he think it'll be the last.
He catches her movements at the edge of his vision and stops in his tracks; when Arthur stops too, they glance at each other. Merlin notices a tightening in Arthur's jaw as a shadow passes over his face. He's looking at Merlin a bit helplessly, as if Merlin should know what to say or do now that they've stopped. The need to comfort Gwen is something Merlin can identify with, but he hasn't yet figured out how to sort out what he's feeling, and that makes him feel a bit unqualified.
He hasn't got a clue what to tell Arthur. Or show him. Or anything.
They both realise at the same time that the faint shuffle of Gwen's slippers over the floor has stopped and when they glance over she's looking at them, her hands twisting in the linen dust cloth she's holding.
"I was ..." Gwen drops her gaze. "I mean. This isn't - I was just --"
Arthur steps into the room but pulls up short, as if he hadn't planned out what he meant to do once he actually reached Gwen. "Gwen ... I --"
"We know," Merlin cuts in, stepping around Arthur. Gwen won't look at either of them, but he reaches out, touching her shoulder. He knows she wouldn't have wanted them to find her at all, not like this. "It's all right."
She lifts her gaze to his and her smile is a bit shaky, a bit strained, but it's there. She nods and steps back, straightening her spine. "I should finish my mending; I shouldn't be in here anymore."
"You can be wherever you like," Arthur offers, clearing his throat. Gwen glances at him, her expression indulgent and a touch exasperated. They all know it isn't true. Finally, she gives another strained smile and retrieves her things from where she left them in her chair.
When she rushes past them Arthur frowns, but Merlin doesn't know what to tell him or what to do about Arthur's frustrated, sad expression. He watches as Arthur reaches out and fingers the cheerful blooms arranged in the vase on the table. His fingertips brush the petals gingerly.
"She changes them, doesn't she?" he asks, and Merlin steps closer. "Before they die."
Merlin feels a squeeze around his heart. "Every day," he murmurs. "Just like always."
Arthur says nothing for a long while, still touching the petals as he looks around the room, almost as if he's never seen it before.
"Look --"
"You shouldn't be standing around," Arthur interrupts, dropping his arm. "Neither of us should. Get back to work."
Merlin steps back, and whatever he meant to say dies in his throat. "My Lord."
***
The next evening it's Merlin who finds her there again despite what she said the previous day. She's perched on the edge of Morgana's bed, examining a seam in the fabric she's mending. He should be polishing Arthur's newly-repaired boots but he hovers in the doorway until she notices him, jerking slightly as she reaches for a needle. She makes no attempt at an excuse this time, but it's just him, and they've never needed explanations between them.
"Hullo," Merlin says simply, crossing to her and taking a seat next to her, his hip touching one of Morgana's plump pillows. Ordinarily, Gwen would have stopped him taking such liberties, but then, ordinarily Gwen wouldn't be sitting on Morgana's bed in the first place.
They share a few moments of companionable silence, each of them taking a break from their duties. Merlin bounces slightly. "Even softer than Arthur's," he notes, and Gwen glances askance at him until his eyes widen and his face goes red.
"It - well." He clears his throat. "Changed the sheets enough times, haven't I?"
Gwen's little smile seems more real than Merlin's seen in some time, but then it melts off her face and she sighs, letting herself sag against his side, her head tilting until it touches his shoulder. A bit awkwardly, he brings his hand across his chest and touches her hair. "Are you all right?"
"I'm tired," she tells him, running her finger along a neatly-stitched seam. It's some kind of sleeve, he notices absently. "That's all. And I..."
Miss her, he thinks. She doesn't need to say it aloud. He turns his head, tilts it down so that her hair tickles his face. He likes the feeling for some reason, and it's easy to brush his lips against it. She's kissed his cheek and stroked his hair plenty of times. It always helps.
"I'm sorry," he says, and Gwen finds his other hand, squeezes it even as her breath hitches.
"Why should you be?"
He shakes his head, but before he can say anything he looks up to see Arthur in the doorway, scrolls tucked into the crook of his arm. Gwen straightens instantly and gets to her feet. Merlin remains seated. He can't read the expression on Arthur's face.
"Guinevere, please," Arthur says, his voice almost pained, "sit. You don't have to..." he makes a vague gesture. "You don't have to get up on my account."
Gwen's fingers relax on her mending and she sighs a bit. "It's difficult to be sure," she says, and drops a light curtsy before adding, "Sire."
They watch each other for a long moment. Even if neither of them have told him everything about it, Merlin knows things are strange between Arthur and Gwen, in ways they don't seem capable of resolving. Still, there are times being in a room with them both makes him feel as if there isn't enough air, or maybe just not enough space for the three of them.
"Please," Arthur says again, and for all the tenderness in his voice he holds himself as taut as a bowstring. "It's only that I didn't mean to intrude." He looks at Merlin and back at Gwen.
Gwen looks past Arthur to the door, always more cautious than either of them, but she softens as she lifts her mending and backs up toward the bed again. "You can join us," she says, taking her place by Merlin, "if you like."
Arthur sits on her other side and Merlin can't help a faint smile as Arthur shifts closer to her, then further apart, then closer again by half. He fumbles with the scrolls a bit but settles them beside him and selects one, unrolling it as Gwen sets to her sewing again. Looking at her, Merlin notes that she seems a bit less steady herself. Merlin bends over and picks up Arthur's boots, polishing them, and they go about their duties in silence. Every now and again Merlin lets himself be distracted by the way Gwen bites her lip and the determined line of Arthur's jaw as he focuses on trade agreements.
It's very late when they take their leave. Arthur stands first and bows quickly to Gwen. She blinks, but tilts her head toward him in return. "G'night," Merlin tells her and finds her hand a moment, squeezing it instead of telling her that things will be all right. She nods, seeming to understand what he means, and smiles at him.
He catches Arthur watching them with an unreadable expression, his fingers flexing at his sides.
***
Arthur seems to find trade negotiations more tiring than a hard day's training. He emerges from the Great Hall where he'd spent much of the day at his father's side, looking frazzled. His hair sticks out at odd angles from where he apparently pulled his hands through it. Merlin stifles a laugh.
"Draw me a bath, Merlin," he says as they head back to his chambers, "I'm exhausted."
Merlin's mouth tugs up at the corners. "I can imagine," he says, "all that ... sitting, and talking. I'm surprised you can still walk."
Arthur snorts, rolling his shoulders. "What would you know about it?"
"About talking? Nothing, I'm sure. But it sounds like very, very tiring work."
"Try convincing four other kingdoms that they all need to lower the cost of grain, then see how much energy you've got." He takes the steps two at a time and Merlin scrambles to keep up.
"If you say so," he says as they reach the top. "Shall I bring you some food as well?"
"Not very hungry ... thanks," Arthur says distractedly, and Merlin raises his eyebrows. Arthur not being hungry after a long day is a rare thing. Arthur saying 'thanks' is even more rare.
"Everything all right?" Merlin asks casually, glancing briefly at Arthur.
Arthur gives him a look. "Fine," he says, slowing down as they draw even with Morgana's chambers. Gwen isn't there this time, but Merlin sees fresh flowers in the vase just like always. He doesn't expect Arthur to go inside when they don't find Gwen, but he does. Merlin follows. The room seems larger and emptier than ever.
"They don't take me seriously," Arthur says quietly, dropping onto the bed and flopping back against the pillows. Merlin frowns as he realises that Arthur's exhaustion isn't exactly physical.
"Sure they do," Merlin offers. "Look, I know I don't always, but --"
"I don't expect you to." Tucking an arm behind his head, Arthur focuses on him, chuckling quietly. "Besides, that's just ... us. I think. We don't say what we mean." He shakes his head slightly and looks at the ceiling instead.
Merlin doesn't know what to say to that so he crosses to the window, closing the curtains almost out of habit as if these are Arthur's own chambers.
"How am I supposed to be King if," Arthur trails off and tries again. "I need to be good at this. I have to be what they need."
"You will," Merlin stresses. "You'll get better, and you'll make them listen. I'll help you. I'll always ..." Realising how he might sound, Merlin lets the sentence die.
Arthur gives another chuckle. "However can you help me be King?"
Merlin feels a familiar weight settle in over his shoulders, of the many things he can't ever say. He puts on a self-deprecating smile. "A King needs well-polished armor."
Arthur laughs, sinking further into the pillows. "Right," he says tiredly. "That's true. You always know what to say, Merlin."
Because they did it last night and it wasn't so bad, Merlin lowers to sit on the bed next to Arthur, only he has to shift and stretch his legs out a bit to align himself. It's awkward, though not in a totally bad way, when their legs and arms brush, but Arthur doesn't seem to mind. He seems too tired and Merlin feels suddenly, achingly tired himself. Morgana's pillows feel almost too soft but he adjusts to them, and to Arthur's solid, steady warmth beside him.
"It's going to be all right," Merlin says at length. "I'll make sure of it."
Arthur snores in response.
***
An hour later, Merlin feels someone watching him and opens his eyes to realise Gwen's found them like this. By now, Merlin's arm is around Arthur's shoulders and Arthur's head is lolling against Merlin's chest, his right arm draped heavy along Merlin's thigh. He reddens but Gwen smiles slightly, ducking her head.
Merlin extends his hand; she takes it.
The next morning he wakes up warm and surrounded by them both.
***
Three nights later Gwen falls asleep with her head on his chest and her arm across his torso. Merlin lays awake thinking of tired embraces and sleepy kisses and her lips, sweet and soft on his. He's still warm from them.
When Arthur finds them, his dinner with Uther gone late into the evening, Merlin is gently prying an unfinished trouser leg from her hand. Neither of them speaks as Arthur gently, almost gingerly, removes her shoes. He seems almost palpably relieved when the movement does not wake her, and escapes to find a blanket to cover her with.
Merlin brushes his lips against her hair.
***
Arthur has been silent all evening after losing four men in a routine trip to one of the border villages. He didn't expect a band of raiders from Mercia to be lying in wait.
He killed the leader himself; he did not see Merlin dispatch half of the rest, didn't notice the neat holes Merlin burned into their chests before one of them took him by surprise with a poorly-aimed arrow that made a large but shallow gash his side. It hurt, and he rode home on Arthur's horse, arms around his waist.
Though he needs to be at court explaining the situation to Uther, Arthur hovers as Gaius removes the makeshift field bandages from Merlin's side and tends to the wound while Gwen makes tea.
When Gaius reassures him Merlin will be fine, Arthur nods stiffly and leaves.
Later, they stand at the window in Morgana's chambers together. "You --" Arthur releases a breath. "You did well today."
"Didn't do anything really," Merlin lies with a wince that Arthur clearly interprets as lingering pain. He glances at Merlin's side and touches a hand to his shoulder in support.
"You stayed alive. That's something." Arthur turns, still looking at Merlin's torso as he reaches out, his fingers outstretched and a little shaky as they brush the spot over his tunic. "That's something."
His lips sweep against Merlin's cheekbone, then his jaw. They both go rigid for a moment, but then Merlin touches his lips to Arthur's. It's not light and easy the way it is with Gwen; he feels hot and itchy and presses closer as Arthur's mouth slides against his. Their tongues flick against each other. Someone groans.
They pull apart, neither of them speaking. Gwen comes in a moment later and pulls up short, glancing between them. Merlin registers Arthur's short breath and swollen lips and knows he looks much the same way. He meets Gwen's gaze anyway, wanting her to understand ... something.
Merlin doesn't know what he expects to happen but she doesn't leave, and she doesn't ask questions either. Maybe she understands that neither of them would have an answer for her if she did.
She reaches behind herself and locks the door.
***
"We won't be able to take action against Mercia," Arthur says a few days later, sprawled on Morgana's bed with Gwen's hand in his and Merlin's head on his shoulder. "The raiders weren't sent by anyone; they were acting on their own."
He's taken to talking to them about things recently, Merlin's noticed. The sorts of things he talks about with his father. Official business. Merlin supposes it's easier for him than talking about what's going on between them but it also seems to calm him a bit, voicing his concerns away from his father's scrutiny.
"Perhaps that's a good thing," Gwen plays her fingertips over his knuckles. She had discovered he liked that. "It's less likely to happen again."
"I know," Arthur says quietly. "I'd never prefer to be at war; it's just, not going after the rest of them is difficult. The villagers and the knights who were killed -- I want to make sure no one else is hurt again."
"I've heard the townspeople talking," Gwen says. "They're afraid."
Arthur's thoughtful for a few moments.
"What are you going to do?" Merlin shifts, his side still twinging a bit. "You know I'd go with you."
"There's little to be done now." Arthur frowns at the ceiling. "Much as I want to I can't just ride out looking for the ones who got away. We're too short-handed and I'm needed here. But the border villages need more protection. They're defenseless, little more than human shields at this point. We need outposts there, staffed with knights who can at least get word back to us quickly if something happens."
Gwen sits up then, interested. "Think of the people you could hire to build those posts," she says. "People who desperately need work right now."
"Exactly," Arthur nods and sits up as well, "I'm going to speak to my father. He won't want to spend the resources, but..."
"You'll make him listen," Merlin says; knowing Uther it will be a tough argument, but that's not what Arthur needs to hear. "Just think what might have happened if Cendred had had a few knights posted in Ealdor."
"I'll do my best." Arthur's face is a mix of uncertainty and determination.
He looks slightly undone when Gwen lifts his hand and kisses it, but then she leans in to touch her lips to his and his entire body strains toward her. He grips Merlin's hand like an anchor and lifts his free hand to her hair as her leg drapes over his.
***
It's strange to watch them kiss, Merlin thinks. Being on the outside so very strange, but the way they've all been going, someone always is.
There's such an aching tenderness about them; he can't help but look, and the fact they don't seem to mind when he watches is a heady feeling. He sits back on the bed and drinks them both in: the tilt of their heads and the way their noses brush, the flutter of their eyelids and the way they can't seem to figure out where to rest their hands. The catch of Arthur's breath when Gwen's tongue sweeps across his bottom lip and the way Gwen trembles visibly when Arthur's open mouth slides along her throat. The tense lines in Arthur's body and the way Gwen's hand fists in Arthur's tunic.
Merlin can barely breathe. He feels it again: the distinct lack of space on the bed, in the room.
Where is he supposed to fit in that?
When he gets abruptly to his feet, they pull apart; Gwen looks concerned and Arthur confused. "Merlin --"
"No, please - I'm fine," Merlin looks away, "you two just keep doing ... that."
He opens the door and heads off, unsure where he means to go.
***
He ends up walking outside in the cold for a while; when he returns he bypasses Morgana's chambers and goes to Arthur's instead. He isn't even angry, but at times it's just too much. He can't work out where it's leading or where he wants it to lead or what any of it means.
Arthur finds him there, standing at the window.
"Better?" he says at length.
"How did you know I'd be here?" Merlin's taken to getting his chores done earlier in the evening so there isn't any reason for him to be in here.
"Heard you walking past." Arthur rests his hand against the sill and looks down at the courtyard. "You never did learn to be quiet, not even when you used to sneak in here at night to steal my mirrors for nefarious purposes." Merlin wants to laugh, but can't quite.
"Gwen?"
"Sleeping," Arthur says. "You really worried her."
"I'll talk to her." Merlin avoids Arthur's gaze. "It's just ... I don't know what to do sometimes. With this."
Arthur's the absolute wrong person to talk to about this sort of thing, and he knows it. "I've never been sure what to do with either of you," says, keeping his eyes trained on the courtyard. "Not before this, and not after. Not ever."
It's not the answer Merlin's looking for. He has to know, but can't bring himself to ask, if it's normal to need them both so much. He grabs a fistful of Arthur's shirt and kisses him, hard. "Say it'll be all right," he says, his words muffled against lips and skin. "That's it."
Arthur says nothing, but it's much easier not to worry with their bodies pressed close, their breath coming in short, urgent gasps. Arthur pulls at Merlin's earlobe with his teeth as they crash against the wall, diving into clothes and searching with their hands. Merlin groans and bucks as Arthur's hand shoves into his breeches, his own hands scrabbling to return the favour. The next few short moments are filled with harsh grunts and fevered kisses and fists pumping. Overwhelmed, Merlin bites at Arthur's shoulder and holds on tight as they break against each other.
***
Arthur goes to get food the next night; he says he's going to bring it back for the three of them. Gwen and Merlin gape openly but say nothing, and laughs as he leaves them alone.
"Will they even recognise him in the kitchens?" Merlin asks, kicking off his boots.
Gwen laughs. "I'm not positive, actually. I assume they know there is a prince, in theory."
"Might be worth going down for a look, in case he gets chucked out on his ear," he says with relish.
Her eyes sparkle as she sets her needlework aside. "They'll know him. He used to go down there when he was younger and get extra sweets. He told me he used to have the kitchen maids wrapped round his finger."
"Mm." He doesn't think he was around for that conversation, and wonders about all the other conversations they've had without him. Arthur has always told her things, he knows.
"Gwen, d'you think about us?" She twists around a bit to look at him and he continues. "Arthur and me, I mean; does it bother you when we --" He makes a rolling gesture with his hand.
"A little," she admits, glancing down. "But it's not that I'd want either of you without the other. It's more..." She frowns.
"Left out," Merlin finishes for her.
She nods and gives him a ghost of a smile. But they've never needed explanations between them. He bends toward her so that he can brush his lips against her ear. "So, what do we do?"
"I don't know." Gwen shakes her head, twisting her hands in her lap. "It doesn't feel safe, and that … I'm afraid of that. But I don't want to lose either of you. Is that selfish?"
"Gwen," Merlin breathes. He doesn't know what to say. Selfish or not, it's the same way for him.
It doesn't make sense that, between three people, neither of them has the answers. But she leans into him, presses a kiss to his neck, and he holds onto her anyway.
***
It's been months without Morgana, and they are together most of the time now. By day they exist in twos. It's Merlin and Gwen picking herbs behind the stables or it's Arthur and Merlin walking to and from court, or it's Gwen and Arthur in the gardens in the early morning hours when no one else can see.
By night they exist in a wonderful, confusing three, talking and trading stories and swapping kisses.
On the bed, Gwen and Arthur tug at each other's clothes, sliding and straining against each other as Merlin looks on. Watching them feels distinctly different for him lately, and even if he doesn't quite know what to do, the last thing he wants is to flee. When Arthur and Gwen break apart their lips are swollen, their skin slightly damp, and they're looking at him.
Gwen sits up and looks almost anxious. Merlin can't quite speak, but Arthur does, making perfect sense for once. "Come on, Merlin," he says, reaching out. "Doesn't make sense to leave one of us out."
Arthur leans across Gwen and kisses him; Merlin can taste them both in his mouth. "So," he says, licking his lips, "all three, then?"
"Isn't that what we've been doing all along?" Arthur snorts.
"Well," Gwen puts in, "strictly speaking, no. Obviously we haven't literally, that is…" she trails off and puffs out a shaky breath. Merlin laughs and catches her mouth in a hungry kiss. Between that and Arthur's hand on her thigh, she trembles.
Merlin looks between them both. "We'll be all right, though, won't we? We'll still be --" 'Friends' doesn't seem like a term that would apply to them now. He glances down. "We'll still be us." He decides not to make it a question. They've moved past second thoughts; he's beginning to think they did that a long time ago.
Arthur kisses him again, urgently, as if that would make it so.
He finds himself smiling; maybe between them they're stubborn enough to make it work. However they got here, it's the three of them or nothing.
When Gwen loosens the ties on her bodice Merlin reaches for her, following her hands with his own and heating her skin. Arthur drags at the collar of Merlin's tunic, trailing with his lips, and for now no worry seems big enough to eclipse this.
End
Author: heather11483
Recipient: kathkin
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Merlin/Arthur/Gwen
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Technically 2x12, though this story could exist almost independently of series 2 canon
Rating: light R
Word Count: 4285
Summary: Three lonely people come together in the absence of the fourth.
Author's Note: kathkin, I really hope you enjoy this! Thanks so much to my beta and to the wonderful mods of this fest, who have been patient to extremes.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction - none of this ever happened. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work.
When they find Gwen in Morgana's chambers after dinner, they aren't exactly looking for her. Arthur has a lot to prepare ahead of the trade talks in two days' time, which means Merlin himself has about twice as much to do as usual (these things trickle down). They are on their way to Arthur's chambers so that Arthur can pore over scrolls and Merlin can deal with the more stubborn scuffs on Arthur's boots. But Morgana's chambers are on the way, and Gwen is hard to miss. She flits from bed to side table to vanity, arranging fresh flowers in a vase and dusting. There'll always be dust.
It isn't that she hasn't got anything else to do, Merlin knows - she's been given a seamstress position in the castle that keeps her busy throughout the day. Still, this isn't the first time she's been back to the room where she used to spend most of her time, nor does he think it'll be the last.
He catches her movements at the edge of his vision and stops in his tracks; when Arthur stops too, they glance at each other. Merlin notices a tightening in Arthur's jaw as a shadow passes over his face. He's looking at Merlin a bit helplessly, as if Merlin should know what to say or do now that they've stopped. The need to comfort Gwen is something Merlin can identify with, but he hasn't yet figured out how to sort out what he's feeling, and that makes him feel a bit unqualified.
He hasn't got a clue what to tell Arthur. Or show him. Or anything.
They both realise at the same time that the faint shuffle of Gwen's slippers over the floor has stopped and when they glance over she's looking at them, her hands twisting in the linen dust cloth she's holding.
"I was ..." Gwen drops her gaze. "I mean. This isn't - I was just --"
Arthur steps into the room but pulls up short, as if he hadn't planned out what he meant to do once he actually reached Gwen. "Gwen ... I --"
"We know," Merlin cuts in, stepping around Arthur. Gwen won't look at either of them, but he reaches out, touching her shoulder. He knows she wouldn't have wanted them to find her at all, not like this. "It's all right."
She lifts her gaze to his and her smile is a bit shaky, a bit strained, but it's there. She nods and steps back, straightening her spine. "I should finish my mending; I shouldn't be in here anymore."
"You can be wherever you like," Arthur offers, clearing his throat. Gwen glances at him, her expression indulgent and a touch exasperated. They all know it isn't true. Finally, she gives another strained smile and retrieves her things from where she left them in her chair.
When she rushes past them Arthur frowns, but Merlin doesn't know what to tell him or what to do about Arthur's frustrated, sad expression. He watches as Arthur reaches out and fingers the cheerful blooms arranged in the vase on the table. His fingertips brush the petals gingerly.
"She changes them, doesn't she?" he asks, and Merlin steps closer. "Before they die."
Merlin feels a squeeze around his heart. "Every day," he murmurs. "Just like always."
Arthur says nothing for a long while, still touching the petals as he looks around the room, almost as if he's never seen it before.
"Look --"
"You shouldn't be standing around," Arthur interrupts, dropping his arm. "Neither of us should. Get back to work."
Merlin steps back, and whatever he meant to say dies in his throat. "My Lord."
***
The next evening it's Merlin who finds her there again despite what she said the previous day. She's perched on the edge of Morgana's bed, examining a seam in the fabric she's mending. He should be polishing Arthur's newly-repaired boots but he hovers in the doorway until she notices him, jerking slightly as she reaches for a needle. She makes no attempt at an excuse this time, but it's just him, and they've never needed explanations between them.
"Hullo," Merlin says simply, crossing to her and taking a seat next to her, his hip touching one of Morgana's plump pillows. Ordinarily, Gwen would have stopped him taking such liberties, but then, ordinarily Gwen wouldn't be sitting on Morgana's bed in the first place.
They share a few moments of companionable silence, each of them taking a break from their duties. Merlin bounces slightly. "Even softer than Arthur's," he notes, and Gwen glances askance at him until his eyes widen and his face goes red.
"It - well." He clears his throat. "Changed the sheets enough times, haven't I?"
Gwen's little smile seems more real than Merlin's seen in some time, but then it melts off her face and she sighs, letting herself sag against his side, her head tilting until it touches his shoulder. A bit awkwardly, he brings his hand across his chest and touches her hair. "Are you all right?"
"I'm tired," she tells him, running her finger along a neatly-stitched seam. It's some kind of sleeve, he notices absently. "That's all. And I..."
Miss her, he thinks. She doesn't need to say it aloud. He turns his head, tilts it down so that her hair tickles his face. He likes the feeling for some reason, and it's easy to brush his lips against it. She's kissed his cheek and stroked his hair plenty of times. It always helps.
"I'm sorry," he says, and Gwen finds his other hand, squeezes it even as her breath hitches.
"Why should you be?"
He shakes his head, but before he can say anything he looks up to see Arthur in the doorway, scrolls tucked into the crook of his arm. Gwen straightens instantly and gets to her feet. Merlin remains seated. He can't read the expression on Arthur's face.
"Guinevere, please," Arthur says, his voice almost pained, "sit. You don't have to..." he makes a vague gesture. "You don't have to get up on my account."
Gwen's fingers relax on her mending and she sighs a bit. "It's difficult to be sure," she says, and drops a light curtsy before adding, "Sire."
They watch each other for a long moment. Even if neither of them have told him everything about it, Merlin knows things are strange between Arthur and Gwen, in ways they don't seem capable of resolving. Still, there are times being in a room with them both makes him feel as if there isn't enough air, or maybe just not enough space for the three of them.
"Please," Arthur says again, and for all the tenderness in his voice he holds himself as taut as a bowstring. "It's only that I didn't mean to intrude." He looks at Merlin and back at Gwen.
Gwen looks past Arthur to the door, always more cautious than either of them, but she softens as she lifts her mending and backs up toward the bed again. "You can join us," she says, taking her place by Merlin, "if you like."
Arthur sits on her other side and Merlin can't help a faint smile as Arthur shifts closer to her, then further apart, then closer again by half. He fumbles with the scrolls a bit but settles them beside him and selects one, unrolling it as Gwen sets to her sewing again. Looking at her, Merlin notes that she seems a bit less steady herself. Merlin bends over and picks up Arthur's boots, polishing them, and they go about their duties in silence. Every now and again Merlin lets himself be distracted by the way Gwen bites her lip and the determined line of Arthur's jaw as he focuses on trade agreements.
It's very late when they take their leave. Arthur stands first and bows quickly to Gwen. She blinks, but tilts her head toward him in return. "G'night," Merlin tells her and finds her hand a moment, squeezing it instead of telling her that things will be all right. She nods, seeming to understand what he means, and smiles at him.
He catches Arthur watching them with an unreadable expression, his fingers flexing at his sides.
***
Arthur seems to find trade negotiations more tiring than a hard day's training. He emerges from the Great Hall where he'd spent much of the day at his father's side, looking frazzled. His hair sticks out at odd angles from where he apparently pulled his hands through it. Merlin stifles a laugh.
"Draw me a bath, Merlin," he says as they head back to his chambers, "I'm exhausted."
Merlin's mouth tugs up at the corners. "I can imagine," he says, "all that ... sitting, and talking. I'm surprised you can still walk."
Arthur snorts, rolling his shoulders. "What would you know about it?"
"About talking? Nothing, I'm sure. But it sounds like very, very tiring work."
"Try convincing four other kingdoms that they all need to lower the cost of grain, then see how much energy you've got." He takes the steps two at a time and Merlin scrambles to keep up.
"If you say so," he says as they reach the top. "Shall I bring you some food as well?"
"Not very hungry ... thanks," Arthur says distractedly, and Merlin raises his eyebrows. Arthur not being hungry after a long day is a rare thing. Arthur saying 'thanks' is even more rare.
"Everything all right?" Merlin asks casually, glancing briefly at Arthur.
Arthur gives him a look. "Fine," he says, slowing down as they draw even with Morgana's chambers. Gwen isn't there this time, but Merlin sees fresh flowers in the vase just like always. He doesn't expect Arthur to go inside when they don't find Gwen, but he does. Merlin follows. The room seems larger and emptier than ever.
"They don't take me seriously," Arthur says quietly, dropping onto the bed and flopping back against the pillows. Merlin frowns as he realises that Arthur's exhaustion isn't exactly physical.
"Sure they do," Merlin offers. "Look, I know I don't always, but --"
"I don't expect you to." Tucking an arm behind his head, Arthur focuses on him, chuckling quietly. "Besides, that's just ... us. I think. We don't say what we mean." He shakes his head slightly and looks at the ceiling instead.
Merlin doesn't know what to say to that so he crosses to the window, closing the curtains almost out of habit as if these are Arthur's own chambers.
"How am I supposed to be King if," Arthur trails off and tries again. "I need to be good at this. I have to be what they need."
"You will," Merlin stresses. "You'll get better, and you'll make them listen. I'll help you. I'll always ..." Realising how he might sound, Merlin lets the sentence die.
Arthur gives another chuckle. "However can you help me be King?"
Merlin feels a familiar weight settle in over his shoulders, of the many things he can't ever say. He puts on a self-deprecating smile. "A King needs well-polished armor."
Arthur laughs, sinking further into the pillows. "Right," he says tiredly. "That's true. You always know what to say, Merlin."
Because they did it last night and it wasn't so bad, Merlin lowers to sit on the bed next to Arthur, only he has to shift and stretch his legs out a bit to align himself. It's awkward, though not in a totally bad way, when their legs and arms brush, but Arthur doesn't seem to mind. He seems too tired and Merlin feels suddenly, achingly tired himself. Morgana's pillows feel almost too soft but he adjusts to them, and to Arthur's solid, steady warmth beside him.
"It's going to be all right," Merlin says at length. "I'll make sure of it."
Arthur snores in response.
***
An hour later, Merlin feels someone watching him and opens his eyes to realise Gwen's found them like this. By now, Merlin's arm is around Arthur's shoulders and Arthur's head is lolling against Merlin's chest, his right arm draped heavy along Merlin's thigh. He reddens but Gwen smiles slightly, ducking her head.
Merlin extends his hand; she takes it.
The next morning he wakes up warm and surrounded by them both.
***
Three nights later Gwen falls asleep with her head on his chest and her arm across his torso. Merlin lays awake thinking of tired embraces and sleepy kisses and her lips, sweet and soft on his. He's still warm from them.
When Arthur finds them, his dinner with Uther gone late into the evening, Merlin is gently prying an unfinished trouser leg from her hand. Neither of them speaks as Arthur gently, almost gingerly, removes her shoes. He seems almost palpably relieved when the movement does not wake her, and escapes to find a blanket to cover her with.
Merlin brushes his lips against her hair.
***
Arthur has been silent all evening after losing four men in a routine trip to one of the border villages. He didn't expect a band of raiders from Mercia to be lying in wait.
He killed the leader himself; he did not see Merlin dispatch half of the rest, didn't notice the neat holes Merlin burned into their chests before one of them took him by surprise with a poorly-aimed arrow that made a large but shallow gash his side. It hurt, and he rode home on Arthur's horse, arms around his waist.
Though he needs to be at court explaining the situation to Uther, Arthur hovers as Gaius removes the makeshift field bandages from Merlin's side and tends to the wound while Gwen makes tea.
When Gaius reassures him Merlin will be fine, Arthur nods stiffly and leaves.
Later, they stand at the window in Morgana's chambers together. "You --" Arthur releases a breath. "You did well today."
"Didn't do anything really," Merlin lies with a wince that Arthur clearly interprets as lingering pain. He glances at Merlin's side and touches a hand to his shoulder in support.
"You stayed alive. That's something." Arthur turns, still looking at Merlin's torso as he reaches out, his fingers outstretched and a little shaky as they brush the spot over his tunic. "That's something."
His lips sweep against Merlin's cheekbone, then his jaw. They both go rigid for a moment, but then Merlin touches his lips to Arthur's. It's not light and easy the way it is with Gwen; he feels hot and itchy and presses closer as Arthur's mouth slides against his. Their tongues flick against each other. Someone groans.
They pull apart, neither of them speaking. Gwen comes in a moment later and pulls up short, glancing between them. Merlin registers Arthur's short breath and swollen lips and knows he looks much the same way. He meets Gwen's gaze anyway, wanting her to understand ... something.
Merlin doesn't know what he expects to happen but she doesn't leave, and she doesn't ask questions either. Maybe she understands that neither of them would have an answer for her if she did.
She reaches behind herself and locks the door.
***
"We won't be able to take action against Mercia," Arthur says a few days later, sprawled on Morgana's bed with Gwen's hand in his and Merlin's head on his shoulder. "The raiders weren't sent by anyone; they were acting on their own."
He's taken to talking to them about things recently, Merlin's noticed. The sorts of things he talks about with his father. Official business. Merlin supposes it's easier for him than talking about what's going on between them but it also seems to calm him a bit, voicing his concerns away from his father's scrutiny.
"Perhaps that's a good thing," Gwen plays her fingertips over his knuckles. She had discovered he liked that. "It's less likely to happen again."
"I know," Arthur says quietly. "I'd never prefer to be at war; it's just, not going after the rest of them is difficult. The villagers and the knights who were killed -- I want to make sure no one else is hurt again."
"I've heard the townspeople talking," Gwen says. "They're afraid."
Arthur's thoughtful for a few moments.
"What are you going to do?" Merlin shifts, his side still twinging a bit. "You know I'd go with you."
"There's little to be done now." Arthur frowns at the ceiling. "Much as I want to I can't just ride out looking for the ones who got away. We're too short-handed and I'm needed here. But the border villages need more protection. They're defenseless, little more than human shields at this point. We need outposts there, staffed with knights who can at least get word back to us quickly if something happens."
Gwen sits up then, interested. "Think of the people you could hire to build those posts," she says. "People who desperately need work right now."
"Exactly," Arthur nods and sits up as well, "I'm going to speak to my father. He won't want to spend the resources, but..."
"You'll make him listen," Merlin says; knowing Uther it will be a tough argument, but that's not what Arthur needs to hear. "Just think what might have happened if Cendred had had a few knights posted in Ealdor."
"I'll do my best." Arthur's face is a mix of uncertainty and determination.
He looks slightly undone when Gwen lifts his hand and kisses it, but then she leans in to touch her lips to his and his entire body strains toward her. He grips Merlin's hand like an anchor and lifts his free hand to her hair as her leg drapes over his.
***
It's strange to watch them kiss, Merlin thinks. Being on the outside so very strange, but the way they've all been going, someone always is.
There's such an aching tenderness about them; he can't help but look, and the fact they don't seem to mind when he watches is a heady feeling. He sits back on the bed and drinks them both in: the tilt of their heads and the way their noses brush, the flutter of their eyelids and the way they can't seem to figure out where to rest their hands. The catch of Arthur's breath when Gwen's tongue sweeps across his bottom lip and the way Gwen trembles visibly when Arthur's open mouth slides along her throat. The tense lines in Arthur's body and the way Gwen's hand fists in Arthur's tunic.
Merlin can barely breathe. He feels it again: the distinct lack of space on the bed, in the room.
Where is he supposed to fit in that?
When he gets abruptly to his feet, they pull apart; Gwen looks concerned and Arthur confused. "Merlin --"
"No, please - I'm fine," Merlin looks away, "you two just keep doing ... that."
He opens the door and heads off, unsure where he means to go.
***
He ends up walking outside in the cold for a while; when he returns he bypasses Morgana's chambers and goes to Arthur's instead. He isn't even angry, but at times it's just too much. He can't work out where it's leading or where he wants it to lead or what any of it means.
Arthur finds him there, standing at the window.
"Better?" he says at length.
"How did you know I'd be here?" Merlin's taken to getting his chores done earlier in the evening so there isn't any reason for him to be in here.
"Heard you walking past." Arthur rests his hand against the sill and looks down at the courtyard. "You never did learn to be quiet, not even when you used to sneak in here at night to steal my mirrors for nefarious purposes." Merlin wants to laugh, but can't quite.
"Gwen?"
"Sleeping," Arthur says. "You really worried her."
"I'll talk to her." Merlin avoids Arthur's gaze. "It's just ... I don't know what to do sometimes. With this."
Arthur's the absolute wrong person to talk to about this sort of thing, and he knows it. "I've never been sure what to do with either of you," says, keeping his eyes trained on the courtyard. "Not before this, and not after. Not ever."
It's not the answer Merlin's looking for. He has to know, but can't bring himself to ask, if it's normal to need them both so much. He grabs a fistful of Arthur's shirt and kisses him, hard. "Say it'll be all right," he says, his words muffled against lips and skin. "That's it."
Arthur says nothing, but it's much easier not to worry with their bodies pressed close, their breath coming in short, urgent gasps. Arthur pulls at Merlin's earlobe with his teeth as they crash against the wall, diving into clothes and searching with their hands. Merlin groans and bucks as Arthur's hand shoves into his breeches, his own hands scrabbling to return the favour. The next few short moments are filled with harsh grunts and fevered kisses and fists pumping. Overwhelmed, Merlin bites at Arthur's shoulder and holds on tight as they break against each other.
***
Arthur goes to get food the next night; he says he's going to bring it back for the three of them. Gwen and Merlin gape openly but say nothing, and laughs as he leaves them alone.
"Will they even recognise him in the kitchens?" Merlin asks, kicking off his boots.
Gwen laughs. "I'm not positive, actually. I assume they know there is a prince, in theory."
"Might be worth going down for a look, in case he gets chucked out on his ear," he says with relish.
Her eyes sparkle as she sets her needlework aside. "They'll know him. He used to go down there when he was younger and get extra sweets. He told me he used to have the kitchen maids wrapped round his finger."
"Mm." He doesn't think he was around for that conversation, and wonders about all the other conversations they've had without him. Arthur has always told her things, he knows.
"Gwen, d'you think about us?" She twists around a bit to look at him and he continues. "Arthur and me, I mean; does it bother you when we --" He makes a rolling gesture with his hand.
"A little," she admits, glancing down. "But it's not that I'd want either of you without the other. It's more..." She frowns.
"Left out," Merlin finishes for her.
She nods and gives him a ghost of a smile. But they've never needed explanations between them. He bends toward her so that he can brush his lips against her ear. "So, what do we do?"
"I don't know." Gwen shakes her head, twisting her hands in her lap. "It doesn't feel safe, and that … I'm afraid of that. But I don't want to lose either of you. Is that selfish?"
"Gwen," Merlin breathes. He doesn't know what to say. Selfish or not, it's the same way for him.
It doesn't make sense that, between three people, neither of them has the answers. But she leans into him, presses a kiss to his neck, and he holds onto her anyway.
***
It's been months without Morgana, and they are together most of the time now. By day they exist in twos. It's Merlin and Gwen picking herbs behind the stables or it's Arthur and Merlin walking to and from court, or it's Gwen and Arthur in the gardens in the early morning hours when no one else can see.
By night they exist in a wonderful, confusing three, talking and trading stories and swapping kisses.
On the bed, Gwen and Arthur tug at each other's clothes, sliding and straining against each other as Merlin looks on. Watching them feels distinctly different for him lately, and even if he doesn't quite know what to do, the last thing he wants is to flee. When Arthur and Gwen break apart their lips are swollen, their skin slightly damp, and they're looking at him.
Gwen sits up and looks almost anxious. Merlin can't quite speak, but Arthur does, making perfect sense for once. "Come on, Merlin," he says, reaching out. "Doesn't make sense to leave one of us out."
Arthur leans across Gwen and kisses him; Merlin can taste them both in his mouth. "So," he says, licking his lips, "all three, then?"
"Isn't that what we've been doing all along?" Arthur snorts.
"Well," Gwen puts in, "strictly speaking, no. Obviously we haven't literally, that is…" she trails off and puffs out a shaky breath. Merlin laughs and catches her mouth in a hungry kiss. Between that and Arthur's hand on her thigh, she trembles.
Merlin looks between them both. "We'll be all right, though, won't we? We'll still be --" 'Friends' doesn't seem like a term that would apply to them now. He glances down. "We'll still be us." He decides not to make it a question. They've moved past second thoughts; he's beginning to think they did that a long time ago.
Arthur kisses him again, urgently, as if that would make it so.
He finds himself smiling; maybe between them they're stubborn enough to make it work. However they got here, it's the three of them or nothing.
When Gwen loosens the ties on her bodice Merlin reaches for her, following her hands with his own and heating her skin. Arthur drags at the collar of Merlin's tunic, trailing with his lips, and for now no worry seems big enough to eclipse this.
End