Purging fic!
I'm going through some old fic, as one does at the beginning of a year, and since I'll never finish these but I like some parts of them, I'm going to post them here, unfinished, just to finally put the nail in the coffin. :)
Gwen/Merlin, in the rushes
(Nothing really happens in this and didn't go anywhere!)
The sun beat down heavily on the land, causing shimmering waves of heat to rise from the fields as far as Merlin could see. It was much cooler by the stream where he and Gwen were collecting rushes to be later woven into floor coverings for the castle. Gwen had hiked up the hem of her dress to keep it from getting wet, and Merlin had trouble keeping his eyes on the plants and not on her ankles. She hummed softly, a tune Merlin didn't know, as she gathered the rushes in a basket slung across her arm.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” Merlin said, just for the sake of saying something.
Gwen smiled at him, amused. “This is work, Merlin, something that you seem rather keen on avoiding,” she said.
“I'm not!” Merlin protested. He quickly bent to the task, but was soon distracted by the swish of Gwen's dress as a fold of it just brushed the water’s surface and made a dozen tiny ripples. He stopped and watched until they disappeared.
“Merlin,” Gwen said softly. Merlin looked up. “We do really need to get this done, you know,” she continued.
Merlin sighed and straightened up from the water’s edge. “I’ll help lay them out then, all right?” Without waiting for an answer, he gently drew the basket away from Gwen’s arm and emptied it out into the clearing. Merlin handed the basket back to Gwen for her to collect more while he began arranging the rushes into a single layer to be dried. They worked together quietly, and, basket after basket, the pile grew larger.
“You have lovely hands,” Gwen said quietly as she returned with yet another basketful.
Merlin touched her wrist and slid a finger down the back of her hand. “Are we finished yet?” he asked her softly.
Arthur/Merlin, airport AU
(This is mostly in pieces that never became a whole, but their flirting was fun to write. :D In my head, Merlin is Arthur's anchor while he's in orbit but likes playing knight in shining armour. Eventually Arthur gets tired of travelling so much but can't quite shake the thrill of adventure, so of course they end up disgustingly happy and taking only vacations in exotic places together. :D)
The phone rang-a tasteful ring, Arthur had made sure-thrice before he managed to fumble for the receiver. He squinted at the clock beside his bed blearily, the digits a soothing blue.
“Good morning,” Arthur said hoarsely into the phone.
“Good morning, Mr Pendragon, this is your 3 a.m. wake-up call,” a voice said politely.
“Ah, thank you, Elyan,” Arthur said, trying to smother his yawn. Not strictly professional, perhaps, but it helped to be on a first name basis with the staff.
“Would you like any breakfast delivered to your room before your flight?” Elyan asked.
Arthur glanced at the clock again ruefully. “I’m afraid I don’t have time. Would you call a car to the airport for me?”
“Certainly. Thank you for staying with Camelot Residences,” Elyan said, and hung up.
Arthur smiled to himself, stretching lazily as he got out of bed. The back-to-basics personalised wake-up calls instead of a cold, pre-recorded voice being the first thing one heard in the morning had been his idea too.
--
“Timezones will be the death of me,” Arthur said grumpily as he walked mechanically to Merlin’s counter and leaned on it heavily, fumbling for his passport.
There was no reply for a long moment. “Welcome to Kilgarrah Airlines. How may I help you?” an unfamiliar voice said.
It took a full five seconds for Arthur to realise that the person in front of the counter was not actually Merlin. He opened his eyes more fully and squinted at the woman dressed nattily in the standard Kilgarrah Airlines uniform-although Arthur was quick to note that she lacked an ascot that seemed ever-present on Merlin. She was looking at him with a polite, bland expression.
“Where’s Merlin?” Arthur blurted out, completely wrong-footed. He looked around at the other counters for Merlin’s familiar smile before he could stop himself.
“Oh!” the woman said, sounding surprised. “You must be-that is,” she said, quickly correcting herself, “I’m afraid Merlin is sick today and won’t be in.”
“Ah,” Arthur said. He paused, lifting his head once more to look for Merlin, feeling foolish as he did so. He cleared his throat and handed his passport to the woman. “6:15 am flight to Amsterdam,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said, taking it. “Are you checking in any luggage?”
Arthur sighed inwardly but kept his face bland. Merlin would have known that without asking. “Just the carry-on,” he said.
Nodding, she clicked a few more times on the computer system before printing his boarding pass. She held out his boarding pass and passport with a smile. “Enjoy your flight.”
Arthur nodded his thanks and took them from her, but she didn’t let go right away. He looked up in surprise to see her watching him intently.
“Merlin will be disappointed his missed you,” she said quietly, and let go.
Arthur opened his mouth, but could not think of anything to say. He glanced at her name tag. “I’m Arthur Pendragon,” he said instead, tucking away his items before holding out his hand.
The woman glanced down at his hand in surprise and smiled genuinely instead of politely. “I’m Freya.”
Arthur grinned at her. “Tell Merlin I said hello,” he said, and walked briskly to his gate. In the back of his mind, it occurred to him that as familiar with the service industry as he was, he knew how to tell a polite smile from a genuine one, and that Merlin had always only shown him his genuine one.
It was why, he realised, he visited Merlin’s counter instead of using the admittedly more efficient kiosks. Sometimes it helped to hear a friendly voice in the morning, just like it was nice to have someone to wake up to in his own bed.
--
Arthur was in no better mood after de-planing. He thanked his lucky stars that he only ever brought a carry-on with him on his trips; he had the utmost sympathy for those whose possessions had to be picked up at the carousel.
He spied one woman nearly in tears at the thought of her flight being delayed. Evidently taking him for a sympathetic flyer, she sniffled and asked him, “What am I going to do? I’m going to miss my mother’s surprise birthday party.”
Arthur awkwardly patted her on the back as she wiped at her eyes with a tissue. “Would you like to use my mobile and call her?”
The woman looked at him, looking scandalised. “And ruin the surprise on top of missing it?”
--
Merlin look harassed.
Merlin blinked at him a few times before breaking into a rueful grin. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “It’s a mess,” he said without preamble. “Most of the flights are delayed due to the snowstorm. It looks like everyone’s stranded for the night. We’re handing out vouchers to the nearest hotel. It’s been complete chaos.”
Arthur followed his gaze to the fat snowflakes covering the ground. “At least you’re not supposed to be headed out on a plane,” he said, nudging Merlin with his elbow.
Merlin’s mouth quirked in a half smile. “No, that’s the problem. Will’s supposed to pick me up today, but he won’t be able to get out in this weather. I’m not sure the buses will be running, either.” He shrugged.
Merlin’s brow furrowed as he looked out at the tarmac, and he heaved a sigh, automatically handing Arthur a hotel voucher.
Arthur looked down at his voucher and lifted an eyebrow. “The Hilton? Really?”
Merlin eyed him oddly. “What’s the matter with the Hilton?”
Arthur heaved a sigh. “What’s not wrong with the Hilton, you mean.” He leaned forward on the counter, and lowered his voice. “If you don’t want to deal with angry, sleep-deprived customers the next day, send them to a decent hotel.” Merlin widened his eyes. Arthur dropped his voice lower, and Merlin leaned in closer to hear him. “If you want to deal with happy customers the next day, send them to Camelot.”
Merlin eyed him oddly. “I don’t suppose you’ve actually worked at the front desk if you think that everyone will be happy.”
Arthur waved a hand dismissively. “Can’t please everyone all of the time, as they say. But I bloody well try.”
Arthur took out his mobile. “Leon, how many rooms do we have available at the Waterfront location tonight?”
--
Arthur eyed the dark circles under Merlin’s eyes and disheveled hair with a frown. “Busy today?” Arthur asked as he walked up to the counter.
“We’re short staffed today, and one of the bigger flights has been delayed due to mechanical problems.” Merlin heaved a sigh that could be heard across the airport. “But your flight is on time, don’t worry.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Of course it is.” He handed over his passport for Merlin to check him in. He let his fingers brush against Merlin’s as he did so in a silent show of support.
There was a harrumph from behind them. “If I had blond hair and blue eyes, would I get served any faster?”
Arthur turned in surprise to see a thin man with a thinner moustache glaring at them. “Excuse me?” Arthur said.
Pencil-moustache rolled his eyes. “You can check in using the kiosk, you know,” he said. He pointed at the nearest machine. “No sense in wasting his time when he could be sorting out where I’m going to stay tonight.”
“I’m sorry, you’ll have to wait your turn until I’m finished with this customer.”
“Until you’re finished flirting with him, you mean.”
Arthur stole a look at Merlin who was rapidly turning an interesting shade of red.
Arthur turned to the man and raised an eyebrow. “If you would be so kind as to wait until we’re through, I’m sure you will have his full attention.” He looked the man up and down slowly, a trick he had learned from his father.
The man turned rather pale. He lifted the corner of his mouth in a sneer. “I doubt he’s any good. You’re welcome to him,” he said. Fortunately, at that moment, another agent called “Next,” and he shuffled off to the counter two rows away.
Arthur turned back to Merlin, who was still red, but looked as if he were suppressing laughter.
“What?” Arthur asked, a little put out that Merlin was not gazing at him adoringly.
“Nothing,” Merlin said, and turned a little away to cover his smile with his hand, his shoulders shaking. “That was probably the funniest thing I’ve seen all day. Do you often go posh on people who offend you?”
“All the time,” Arthur said airily.
“Even the ones you like?”
“Especially the ones I like.”
Arthur/Merlin, caught in a thunderstorm
(This one is a pornathon reject -- for the challenge with the sounds and one of them was a thunderstorm, if I remember correctly -- but I stopped at the porn, haha, so I never got finished and did another fic I ended up submitting. :D)
Rivulets of water run down Arthur’s chainmail. He’s soaked through to his clothing. His hair is plastered to his skull, but his grin when he sees Merlin is blinding. “We missed you in the hunt,” he says. “We finally caught him, thanks to you not being there to blunder it. Tell Gaius he’s welcome to you any time we spot a piece of real game.”
Merlin sighs a little, shaking his head. “Caught in the thunderstorm, were you? I told you to wait until tomorrow.”
Arthur shakes his head vigorously, spraying Merlin with rain droplets. “Nonsense,” he says cheerfully. “That stag was magnificent. If the rain didn’t bother him, why should it have bothered us? Right?” He turns to his men for confirmation.
Merlin catches a few unenthusiastic murmurs, but no outright complaints, and ducks his head to hide his smile.
“Something you’d like to say, Merlin?” Arthur raises an eyebrow.
“Yes, sire. Perhaps you’d like to change out of your wet clothing,” Merlin says, and lowers his eyes. He looks at Arthur through his lashes and sees him blush.
“Of course,” Arthur says, not meeting his gaze. He turns again to his men, a bright smile on his face. “But first, ale all around. To a good hunt and better men,” he calls. His men brighten at that, and Arthur directs them to the hall, clasping each man’s arm and thanking him for his aid. Arthur toasts them, and the men, all wet through as he is, stay to drink and watch him with their bright eyes.
It makes something warm in Merlin’s heart. Once all the men are off to clean up, Merlin takes Arthur’s elbow gently. “Come, sire.”
Once out of sight of his men, Arthur leans his weight onto Merlin carefully, too exhausted to do anything else as they make their way up to Arthur’s chambers.
Merlin strips Arthur of his clothing quickly, sliding his warm hands to Arthur’s cold body, making him hiss. He peels off the layers, letting them fall to the ground in a damp heap. Merlin slowly reveals Arthur’s body, piece by piece. He never gets tired of looking at Arthur’s body, or of learning all its secrets-and making new ones. He presses his mouth to Arthur’s collarbone, tracing the pattern his hands make. Arthur groans softly, and puts an arm around Merlin’s waist to guide him to the bed. They tumble onto the sheets together, laughing, and Arthur slowly undoes the ties to Merlin’s breeches, his chilly hand brushing Merlin’s cock. It’s Merlin’s turn to hiss.
Arthur shushes him with a kiss, and Merlin can taste the lingering rainwater and his sweat from the hunt from him.
“Will you stay?” Arthur asks quietly, staring up at Merlin.
“Of course, sire,” Merlin says.
He pulls the covers over them both, where there is no beginning or end, only the two of them together under the blanket of the night.
Hope 2016 is full of happy words for you! \o/
Gwen/Merlin, in the rushes
(Nothing really happens in this and didn't go anywhere!)
The sun beat down heavily on the land, causing shimmering waves of heat to rise from the fields as far as Merlin could see. It was much cooler by the stream where he and Gwen were collecting rushes to be later woven into floor coverings for the castle. Gwen had hiked up the hem of her dress to keep it from getting wet, and Merlin had trouble keeping his eyes on the plants and not on her ankles. She hummed softly, a tune Merlin didn't know, as she gathered the rushes in a basket slung across her arm.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” Merlin said, just for the sake of saying something.
Gwen smiled at him, amused. “This is work, Merlin, something that you seem rather keen on avoiding,” she said.
“I'm not!” Merlin protested. He quickly bent to the task, but was soon distracted by the swish of Gwen's dress as a fold of it just brushed the water’s surface and made a dozen tiny ripples. He stopped and watched until they disappeared.
“Merlin,” Gwen said softly. Merlin looked up. “We do really need to get this done, you know,” she continued.
Merlin sighed and straightened up from the water’s edge. “I’ll help lay them out then, all right?” Without waiting for an answer, he gently drew the basket away from Gwen’s arm and emptied it out into the clearing. Merlin handed the basket back to Gwen for her to collect more while he began arranging the rushes into a single layer to be dried. They worked together quietly, and, basket after basket, the pile grew larger.
“You have lovely hands,” Gwen said quietly as she returned with yet another basketful.
Merlin touched her wrist and slid a finger down the back of her hand. “Are we finished yet?” he asked her softly.
Arthur/Merlin, airport AU
(This is mostly in pieces that never became a whole, but their flirting was fun to write. :D In my head, Merlin is Arthur's anchor while he's in orbit but likes playing knight in shining armour. Eventually Arthur gets tired of travelling so much but can't quite shake the thrill of adventure, so of course they end up disgustingly happy and taking only vacations in exotic places together. :D)
The phone rang-a tasteful ring, Arthur had made sure-thrice before he managed to fumble for the receiver. He squinted at the clock beside his bed blearily, the digits a soothing blue.
“Good morning,” Arthur said hoarsely into the phone.
“Good morning, Mr Pendragon, this is your 3 a.m. wake-up call,” a voice said politely.
“Ah, thank you, Elyan,” Arthur said, trying to smother his yawn. Not strictly professional, perhaps, but it helped to be on a first name basis with the staff.
“Would you like any breakfast delivered to your room before your flight?” Elyan asked.
Arthur glanced at the clock again ruefully. “I’m afraid I don’t have time. Would you call a car to the airport for me?”
“Certainly. Thank you for staying with Camelot Residences,” Elyan said, and hung up.
Arthur smiled to himself, stretching lazily as he got out of bed. The back-to-basics personalised wake-up calls instead of a cold, pre-recorded voice being the first thing one heard in the morning had been his idea too.
--
“Timezones will be the death of me,” Arthur said grumpily as he walked mechanically to Merlin’s counter and leaned on it heavily, fumbling for his passport.
There was no reply for a long moment. “Welcome to Kilgarrah Airlines. How may I help you?” an unfamiliar voice said.
It took a full five seconds for Arthur to realise that the person in front of the counter was not actually Merlin. He opened his eyes more fully and squinted at the woman dressed nattily in the standard Kilgarrah Airlines uniform-although Arthur was quick to note that she lacked an ascot that seemed ever-present on Merlin. She was looking at him with a polite, bland expression.
“Where’s Merlin?” Arthur blurted out, completely wrong-footed. He looked around at the other counters for Merlin’s familiar smile before he could stop himself.
“Oh!” the woman said, sounding surprised. “You must be-that is,” she said, quickly correcting herself, “I’m afraid Merlin is sick today and won’t be in.”
“Ah,” Arthur said. He paused, lifting his head once more to look for Merlin, feeling foolish as he did so. He cleared his throat and handed his passport to the woman. “6:15 am flight to Amsterdam,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said, taking it. “Are you checking in any luggage?”
Arthur sighed inwardly but kept his face bland. Merlin would have known that without asking. “Just the carry-on,” he said.
Nodding, she clicked a few more times on the computer system before printing his boarding pass. She held out his boarding pass and passport with a smile. “Enjoy your flight.”
Arthur nodded his thanks and took them from her, but she didn’t let go right away. He looked up in surprise to see her watching him intently.
“Merlin will be disappointed his missed you,” she said quietly, and let go.
Arthur opened his mouth, but could not think of anything to say. He glanced at her name tag. “I’m Arthur Pendragon,” he said instead, tucking away his items before holding out his hand.
The woman glanced down at his hand in surprise and smiled genuinely instead of politely. “I’m Freya.”
Arthur grinned at her. “Tell Merlin I said hello,” he said, and walked briskly to his gate. In the back of his mind, it occurred to him that as familiar with the service industry as he was, he knew how to tell a polite smile from a genuine one, and that Merlin had always only shown him his genuine one.
It was why, he realised, he visited Merlin’s counter instead of using the admittedly more efficient kiosks. Sometimes it helped to hear a friendly voice in the morning, just like it was nice to have someone to wake up to in his own bed.
--
Arthur was in no better mood after de-planing. He thanked his lucky stars that he only ever brought a carry-on with him on his trips; he had the utmost sympathy for those whose possessions had to be picked up at the carousel.
He spied one woman nearly in tears at the thought of her flight being delayed. Evidently taking him for a sympathetic flyer, she sniffled and asked him, “What am I going to do? I’m going to miss my mother’s surprise birthday party.”
Arthur awkwardly patted her on the back as she wiped at her eyes with a tissue. “Would you like to use my mobile and call her?”
The woman looked at him, looking scandalised. “And ruin the surprise on top of missing it?”
--
Merlin look harassed.
Merlin blinked at him a few times before breaking into a rueful grin. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “It’s a mess,” he said without preamble. “Most of the flights are delayed due to the snowstorm. It looks like everyone’s stranded for the night. We’re handing out vouchers to the nearest hotel. It’s been complete chaos.”
Arthur followed his gaze to the fat snowflakes covering the ground. “At least you’re not supposed to be headed out on a plane,” he said, nudging Merlin with his elbow.
Merlin’s mouth quirked in a half smile. “No, that’s the problem. Will’s supposed to pick me up today, but he won’t be able to get out in this weather. I’m not sure the buses will be running, either.” He shrugged.
Merlin’s brow furrowed as he looked out at the tarmac, and he heaved a sigh, automatically handing Arthur a hotel voucher.
Arthur looked down at his voucher and lifted an eyebrow. “The Hilton? Really?”
Merlin eyed him oddly. “What’s the matter with the Hilton?”
Arthur heaved a sigh. “What’s not wrong with the Hilton, you mean.” He leaned forward on the counter, and lowered his voice. “If you don’t want to deal with angry, sleep-deprived customers the next day, send them to a decent hotel.” Merlin widened his eyes. Arthur dropped his voice lower, and Merlin leaned in closer to hear him. “If you want to deal with happy customers the next day, send them to Camelot.”
Merlin eyed him oddly. “I don’t suppose you’ve actually worked at the front desk if you think that everyone will be happy.”
Arthur waved a hand dismissively. “Can’t please everyone all of the time, as they say. But I bloody well try.”
Arthur took out his mobile. “Leon, how many rooms do we have available at the Waterfront location tonight?”
--
Arthur eyed the dark circles under Merlin’s eyes and disheveled hair with a frown. “Busy today?” Arthur asked as he walked up to the counter.
“We’re short staffed today, and one of the bigger flights has been delayed due to mechanical problems.” Merlin heaved a sigh that could be heard across the airport. “But your flight is on time, don’t worry.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Of course it is.” He handed over his passport for Merlin to check him in. He let his fingers brush against Merlin’s as he did so in a silent show of support.
There was a harrumph from behind them. “If I had blond hair and blue eyes, would I get served any faster?”
Arthur turned in surprise to see a thin man with a thinner moustache glaring at them. “Excuse me?” Arthur said.
Pencil-moustache rolled his eyes. “You can check in using the kiosk, you know,” he said. He pointed at the nearest machine. “No sense in wasting his time when he could be sorting out where I’m going to stay tonight.”
“I’m sorry, you’ll have to wait your turn until I’m finished with this customer.”
“Until you’re finished flirting with him, you mean.”
Arthur stole a look at Merlin who was rapidly turning an interesting shade of red.
Arthur turned to the man and raised an eyebrow. “If you would be so kind as to wait until we’re through, I’m sure you will have his full attention.” He looked the man up and down slowly, a trick he had learned from his father.
The man turned rather pale. He lifted the corner of his mouth in a sneer. “I doubt he’s any good. You’re welcome to him,” he said. Fortunately, at that moment, another agent called “Next,” and he shuffled off to the counter two rows away.
Arthur turned back to Merlin, who was still red, but looked as if he were suppressing laughter.
“What?” Arthur asked, a little put out that Merlin was not gazing at him adoringly.
“Nothing,” Merlin said, and turned a little away to cover his smile with his hand, his shoulders shaking. “That was probably the funniest thing I’ve seen all day. Do you often go posh on people who offend you?”
“All the time,” Arthur said airily.
“Even the ones you like?”
“Especially the ones I like.”
Arthur/Merlin, caught in a thunderstorm
(This one is a pornathon reject -- for the challenge with the sounds and one of them was a thunderstorm, if I remember correctly -- but I stopped at the porn, haha, so I never got finished and did another fic I ended up submitting. :D)
Rivulets of water run down Arthur’s chainmail. He’s soaked through to his clothing. His hair is plastered to his skull, but his grin when he sees Merlin is blinding. “We missed you in the hunt,” he says. “We finally caught him, thanks to you not being there to blunder it. Tell Gaius he’s welcome to you any time we spot a piece of real game.”
Merlin sighs a little, shaking his head. “Caught in the thunderstorm, were you? I told you to wait until tomorrow.”
Arthur shakes his head vigorously, spraying Merlin with rain droplets. “Nonsense,” he says cheerfully. “That stag was magnificent. If the rain didn’t bother him, why should it have bothered us? Right?” He turns to his men for confirmation.
Merlin catches a few unenthusiastic murmurs, but no outright complaints, and ducks his head to hide his smile.
“Something you’d like to say, Merlin?” Arthur raises an eyebrow.
“Yes, sire. Perhaps you’d like to change out of your wet clothing,” Merlin says, and lowers his eyes. He looks at Arthur through his lashes and sees him blush.
“Of course,” Arthur says, not meeting his gaze. He turns again to his men, a bright smile on his face. “But first, ale all around. To a good hunt and better men,” he calls. His men brighten at that, and Arthur directs them to the hall, clasping each man’s arm and thanking him for his aid. Arthur toasts them, and the men, all wet through as he is, stay to drink and watch him with their bright eyes.
It makes something warm in Merlin’s heart. Once all the men are off to clean up, Merlin takes Arthur’s elbow gently. “Come, sire.”
Once out of sight of his men, Arthur leans his weight onto Merlin carefully, too exhausted to do anything else as they make their way up to Arthur’s chambers.
Merlin strips Arthur of his clothing quickly, sliding his warm hands to Arthur’s cold body, making him hiss. He peels off the layers, letting them fall to the ground in a damp heap. Merlin slowly reveals Arthur’s body, piece by piece. He never gets tired of looking at Arthur’s body, or of learning all its secrets-and making new ones. He presses his mouth to Arthur’s collarbone, tracing the pattern his hands make. Arthur groans softly, and puts an arm around Merlin’s waist to guide him to the bed. They tumble onto the sheets together, laughing, and Arthur slowly undoes the ties to Merlin’s breeches, his chilly hand brushing Merlin’s cock. It’s Merlin’s turn to hiss.
Arthur shushes him with a kiss, and Merlin can taste the lingering rainwater and his sweat from the hunt from him.
“Will you stay?” Arthur asks quietly, staring up at Merlin.
“Of course, sire,” Merlin says.
He pulls the covers over them both, where there is no beginning or end, only the two of them together under the blanket of the night.
Hope 2016 is full of happy words for you! \o/