coincidence indeed//arthur+merlin,pg
title; coincidence indeed
rating; g
word count; 1,063
characters; arthur, merlin
warnings; mild spoilers for 3x10
disclaimer; I do not own any of the characters, they're all property of their respective creators.
summary; Merlin laughs shakily. “What are you saying? -“I’m saying...You’re hiding something...”
“You’re late.” Arthur says, narrowing his eyes as Merlin enters his chambers later that night. He’s standing in front of the bed, hands on his hips still fully dressed.
“I was busy mucking out your horses.” Merlin grumbles. “I had to wash before I came here otherwise you would have kicked me out.”
“I hope you’re sober enough to do your duties properly now.” Merlin nods, “Well don’t just stand there!” Arthur spreads his arms and looks at him expectantly. Merlin stares at him blankly for a second before he nods suddenly and rushes to help Arthur out of his clothes.
“Did you find the sorcerer?” he asks as he pulls Arthur’s tunic over his head.
“No luck,” Arthur replies, “But maybe if you hadn’t been such an idiot and let him run straight past you, we wouldn’t be facing this problem.”
“Well maybe if you hadn’t been so pathetic to let him get away in the first place, you wouldn’t be facing this problem.” Merlin retorts.
Arthur glares at him and Merlin smiles so innocently that Arthur really can’t find the strength to yell at him. Instead he sits back down on the bed as Merlin drops to his knees and works on the buckles of his boots.
“You picked the wrong day to spend at the tavern.” Arthur says, running his hand over his face. “I’ve seen sorcerers before but this one...he was raging mad-and not in the traditional way.”
“Mmm?” Merlin asks, tugging off Arthur’s boots.
“You know he called my father a stupid arrogant old tyrant?”
Merlin snorted, “Did he? Must have had some guts.”
“Oh he did. You should have seen my father’s face. And he accused me of mistreating my servants and called me-what was it? A spoilt arrogant brat with the brains of a...donkey I think it was and the face of a toad.” Arthur says slowly, shaking his head.
“Well I can’t argue there.” Merlin says and Arthur can hear the smile in his voice. He places Arthur’s boots aside and stands up, heading towards the fireplace and adding more wood to it.
“He reminded me of you, actually.” Arthur says. He stands up, watching as Merlin bustles around his chambers, putting away his clothes and extinguishing all the extra candles.
“How so?”
“Well for one thing, he was crazy. For another...he sounded just like you. Brains of a donkey and a face of a toad?”
“I’m sure it was just a coincidence.” Merlin says. He brushes past Arthur to turn over the sheets on the bed and arrange the pillows.
Arthur continues to watch him. Coincidence indeed that Merlin should disappear precisely before the sorcerer was found and return as soon as he got away. “I still cannot believe that you were off drinking yourself silly while Guinevere was counting down the hours to her execution.” Arthur says, crossing his arms across his chest.
“I was...trying to drown my sorrows.” Merlin says, turning to face him.
Arthur raises his eyebrows and Merlin stares politely back before his eyes fall on Arthur’s forearms and he frowns. He steps forward and pulls Arthur’s hand towards him, inspecting the light bruises that mark the spot where the guard’s fingers had dug into his skin.
Merlin’s fingers are warm as he brushes them along the length of the bruises, “Does it hurt?” he asks.
Arthur stares at Merlin, his face is quite close to his and there’s something there that’s bothering Arthur; something in the back of his mind telling him that he’s overlooking something very obvious, very important. He just doesn’t know what.
“I’m not a girl, Merlin. Of course it doesn’t hur...” he trails off suddenly when Merlin looks up at him, his blue eyes staring at him with earnest concern and suddenly everything makes sense. Sort of.
Arthur’s mind starts whirling, putting pieces of the puzzle together one by one. Merlin drops his hands and steps back abruptly. “Well, if that’s all sire...”
Arthur grabs him and pulls him back in, leaning in close to stare intently at his eyes. Merlin shrinks away from his gaze, looking anywhere but Arthur’s face. “Look at me...” Arthur orders in a low voice.
Merlin swallows and obeys and it’s when their eyes meet that it hits Arthur. “The sorcerer today...his eyes...I knew I had seen them before somewhere...”
Merlin laughs shakily. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying...” Arthur uses his free hand, the one that’s not holding firmly on to Merlin to brush back the hair from Merlin’s forehead. “You’re hiding something...” He continues to stare into his eyes and now he’s sure they’re the same pair of eyes that he’d looked into earlier while questioning Dragoon-but it can’t be possible. Surely?
“Are you suggesting I’m the sorcerer?” Merlin asks with a tone that makes Arthur blush at the ridiculousness of his own suspicions. “I thought you said he was a doddery old man?” Arthur remains silent and Merlin squirms in his grip, trying to get free. “You’re obviously tired Arthur and probably just imagining things.” He pulls Arthur’s arms away from him and pushes him down onto the bed.
Arthur goes willingly. Merlin is making more sense than his brain and so he ignores the protests in his head that there is a connection between the two and he’s not wrong but Merlin’s voice is reassuring and gentle as he pulls the sheets over Arthur’s form.
“Stop thinking so much. It doesn’t suit you.” Merlin says, smiling down at him in a way that makes Arthur forget his train of thought.
“Merlin-” says as his servant turns to put out the last candle flickering beside his bed.
“Yes, sire?”
Arthur doesn’t know how to say this, everything sounds absurd but oddly correct and it’s too much of a jumble for Arthur to make sense of in his tired state. “If you were hiding something...I mean-if you were-or if you knew or, well...” Merlin frowns at him and Arthur takes a deep breath, “You’d tell me, right? If ever there was anything that- I mean... I’d understand. You know that right? You’d tell me?”
Despite the abstractness of his question, Merlin understands him and his expression becomes unreadable. He just stares at Arthur for what seems like an eternity before he replies, his voice low and cracking slightly.
“You know I would, Arthur.”
Arthur wants to believe him.