Measures, part dos
Part 1 can be found here.
They ride all of the next day and don’t come across storms at all. By evening they can see Ealdor, and Merlin smiles broadly.
‘Finally,’ he says, and breathes a sigh of relief.
~
When they knock on Hunith’s door, they are greeted with a yelp as Merlin is pulled into a hug. Once she lets go of her son, Hunith begins berating him.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you would be coming? I’m hardly prepared for company,’ she says, ushering them in.
‘Mum, I’m sorry; I would have written but I didn’t have much notice…’
Hunith looks at them, Arthur wounded and Merlin flustered and red-faced and both of them travel-weary. ‘Well, anyway,’ she says, ‘I hope you’re alright. But why have you come?’
‘It’s my birthday,’ Arthur says, even as Merlin opens his mouth to speak. ‘In a few days, at any rate. Birthdays at the castle are horrid.’
‘Well,’ Hunith says modestly, ‘if you were hoping for a better celebration, you’re certainly in the wrong place.’
~
‘How are you, Merlin?’ Hunith asks seriously, when he’s helping her gather firewood later that night.
‘Well,’ Merlin says, evasively. ‘I knew Arthur didn’t want to stay at the castle for a feast, and anyway we had to check up on the crops of Camelot’s villages - they’ve been suffering drought, see -’
Merlin is bending to pick up a rather large hunk of wood and so doesn’t notice Hunith staring at him. ‘You believe that’s the only reason he came here?’
Merlin straightens, examining the wood quickly and looking at her. ‘Suppose so, why?’
‘I don’t think he really wants to spend his birthday here - I don’t believe he’s too fond of my cooking.’
‘I - may have let it slip a few times. That I missed home, I mean.’
Hunith smiles at him. ‘He’s here because of you, Merlin.’
Merlin examines the wood again, hissing at the splinters that catch at his fingers as he runs them along the edges. ‘More like to get away from his father, I think.’
‘Merlin,’ Hunith says, walking over to him to grab his hand, drawing his gaze to her own eyes. ‘He seems to have sacrificed a lot for you. I know you’re just his manservant, but he treats you like something much more important.’
‘Because he knows he’d die without me.’
Hunith smiles gently and shakes her head a bit. ‘I don’t think that’s the whole of it.’ She releases Merlin’s hand.
‘He knows about my magic. On the way here, that is, we were attacked by bandits. I couldn’t stop it, it was the only weapon I had.’
‘And he’s accepted you.’
Merlin nods.
‘Then you know it’s not just about saving each other’s life. He realizes the sacrifices you’ve made for his own safety.’
Merlin again nods. ‘I suppose.’
Hunith puts one hand on the side of Merlin’s face. ‘I never sent you to Camelot with such intentions.’
‘I know, mum.’
She smiles at him, and nearly whispers, ‘I’m sorry.’ Just before she turns to leave, Merlin can see her eyes are full of tears.
‘It’s worth it,’ he calls after her.
Hunith turns her head slightly and smiles at him. ‘I can see. The both of you are going to be brilliant someday, together, Merlin.’
She walks away, leaving Merlin wondering if he had just admitted to something.
~
The next day Merlin is awoken by a foot in his face. He shoves it off roughly.
‘Merlin,’ he hears Arthur say somewhere near his own feet.
‘Arthur,’ he responds, ‘you’re disgusting.’
Arthur sits up, looking groggy, hair tousled. ‘You’re sacked,’ he says, ‘just for that.’
‘You can’t sack me in my own home,’ Merlin argues.
‘I just did.’
Merlin’s next comment is cut off by Hunith’s laughter.
‘Breakfast?’ Merlin ventures, and when Hunith confirms it Merlin jumps up, grabbing the blanket and turning to reach for his jacket, but Arthur grabs the end of the blanket and pulls, causing Merlin to fall down. Merlin, in retaliation, throws Arthur’s blanket over the prince, exposing his bare feet. Arthur hisses, curling his feet up against the cool air.
‘You look ridiculous,’ Merlin says, laughing, and scurries to where Hunith is holding a bowl of meal before Arthur can get him.
~
They are playing a game of kick-the-ball with some of the younger lads - or, to be more precise, Merlin is playing with them, as they are his old acquaintances, while Arthur stands on the sidelines and laughs at even the smallest mistake his manservant makes.
‘Wrong post, Merlin,’ he yells, laughing as Merlin kicks the ball enthusiastically past his own team’s goal post. Merlin’s teammates groan and he shrugs, smiling all the while.
Hunith comes out of the house, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘The boys have played this for as long as I can remember,’ she says, ‘I remember wanting to play as a girl and no one would let me. I might say with good reason, if I would have played as well as Merlin.’
She laughs and Arthur smiles at her. ‘You should play,’ she adds. ‘At any rate the boys would love to play with one so esteemed.’
‘Oh,’ Arthur corrects her, ‘I’m only watching this round to get a grip on how to play. Next game’s mine.’
‘Of course. So what do you expect from us Ealdorians for your birthday, sire? I know you said you didn’t want a celebration, but I feel compelled -’
‘Please, Hunith, I just wanted to spend my birthday somewhere quiet,’ he says, watching Merlin intently.
‘Are you sure that’s all of it?’
‘Merlin - he -’
‘Yes,’ she says, ‘forgive me for being so brash, sire, but you care for my son greatly.’
Arthur shrugs. ‘He’s saved my life more than anyone, save, perhaps, my father. I can’t do much else.’
‘Certainly. Is that how you saw it fit to accept his abilities?’ Arthur looks at her seriously, and she adds, ‘He told me you found out.’
Arthur looks away when he responds. ‘I wouldn’t say that it was a matter of needing him around to save my life. And I’m certainly not keeping him around as a manservant because he can hardly do that -’
Hunith takes the lull in conversation, the loss of words that Arthur is suffering, to inquire further. ‘Then why not rid of him?’
Arthur continues staring fixedly at the game, not entirely sure of the answer himself and perhaps trying to find it in the way Merlin so ridiculously kicks the ball with enthusiasm to the other goal post and misses, or the surrounding sounds of the crickets and other night insects, or just in the way Ealdor feels so differently from Camelot, where he can’t do these things.
‘I would never,’ he says at last, voice hoarse from having been lost for such a long moment.
Hunith puts a hand on his arm. ‘I’m glad,’ she says. She smiles at him and goes back into the house. Arthur turns back to the game, now ended, and sees all the lads and Merlin passing around a skin of water. He takes a moment to compose himself and clears his throat before shouting, ‘Come on then,’ and running on to the field. ‘My turn!’
~
‘It’s not even fair,’ Merlin says, glaring at Arthur. ‘You’re a prince, I’m pretty sure your team should have lost points just for having that advantage.’
‘You can’t change the rules after the game, Merlin.’
‘That was for future reference,’ Merlin says, taking a swig of his ale.
‘Of course. But for now, you’re going to get drunk.’
‘It’s your birthday tomorrow; I might as well start celebrating now. Gods know I won’t be able to drink at all once we get back to Camelot.’
‘You never told me you wanted a drink. All you had to do was ask.’
‘I’m fairly certain you mentioned once that you couldn’t be seen buying drinks for your manservant -’
‘But I sacked you this morning, remember.’
‘Oh,’ Merlin says, taking another quick drink. ‘Of course.’
‘How’s your hand?’ Hunith asks, entering the room.
‘I think those splinters had teeth,’ Merlin says. ‘Big, sharp teeth. Probably full of venom.’
‘You wish,’ Arthur says, ‘then you could brag about how you almost died. Pity you would have to tell everyone it was at the hands of wood.’
As Hunith grabs Merlin’s hand to examine the splinter-bites, Merlin says quite soberly, ‘This is very serious business, Arthur.’
‘Ah,’ Hunith says, ‘’twould be because I forgot a splinter. I’m sorry, dear. I’ll get it.’
‘I’ll get water,’ Arthur says, standing up before either mother or son can say anything. Merlin watches him curiously, and Hunith looks at Merlin.
‘You love him,’ she whispers, so quietly, but still divulging so much of the truth that Merlin’s eyes flit to her face and quickly to Arthur again to see if he’s heard.
‘Mum!’
Hunith smiles and thanks Arthur kindly when he sets the bowl down on the table beside her. She digs the splinter out of the crook of Merlin’s index finger and Merlin afterward soaks his hand in the warm water, letting the pain of being eaten alive by splinters dissipate.
Hunith stands. ‘I’m rather tired, boys. If you don’t mind, I’ll just be going to sleep. And don’t worry about making too much noise, I’m a rather deep sleeper.’
‘Sleep well,’ Arthur says, and Hunith smiles at him, kissing the top of Merlin’s head. Just before she goes, she turns away slightly and hisses near his ear, ‘Do something, Merlin. He feels the same.’ Merlin blushes furiously red and when Arthur just stares at him he takes a deep drink of his ale.
‘Your burn is getting worse,’ Arthur says quietly. ‘You look more like a red rose now.’
‘Oh, shut up,’ Merlin says, but throughout the rest of the night their moments of conversation are moments to say the right or wrong thing, and moments of silence are moments to think about what his mother meant. Merlin, despite the warming effects of the ale, feels dreadfully confused, and when they finally settle down for sleep, his belly sloshing with liquid and his brain fuzzy, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to do something, to act on impulse and try to shut Arthur up with something other than words.
Unfortunately, Merlin’s brain is so fuzzy that before he can think about it, before he can realize that it’s true, even though his mother told him earlier that evening, just as he’s about to drop off the edge of consciousness Merlin murmurs, ‘I love you, Arthur,’ but feels so warm and so full and so content that he falls asleep and doesn’t notice Arthur sitting up and watching him for a long while, wondering at his words.
~
The next day is Arthur’s birthday, and in the early afternoon Merlin and Arthur are sent off by a rather insistent Hunith to gather wood for a bonfire that evening. She motions them with her arms to go, and Arthur laughs at her antics.
‘You know,’ he says once they’re far from the village, inspecting a piece of wood and piling it atop the few others he’s already gathered, ‘I could have sworn I heard the strangest thing last night.’ His voice is so nonchalant, but in its lack of gravitas seems to make the issue worse. Merlin stills, his stomach dropping. He’d only just remembered what he’d said when he’d woken up that morning and had hoped he could get away with ignoring that it had happened, but -
‘Is it true?’
‘What?’ Merlin asks, playing oblivious.
‘I know you were quite intoxicated, Merlin, but you told me before you fell asleep that you loved me. You’re lucky I’ve already sacked you, or I might have to do it again; I’m quite certain relations between prince and manservant are against some sort of code.’
‘What do you mean?’ Merlin asks, brow furrowed and blushing even as Arthur turns his gaze upon him.
‘I mean, Merlin, that you’re hideously red - hideously, remember that - and somehow I still want to -’
He drops the wood, walking up to Merlin and cornering him rather unfairly against a tree.
‘I mean, you’re bright red and you’re clumsier than anyone I’ve ever met and you complain about splinters and I still want you.’
Merlin’s breath catches in his throat as Arthur takes a step forward, and he can feel Arthur’s own breath ghosting his face. He tries at, ‘The splinters really did hurt, though - they still do -’
‘Then let me,’ Arthur says, grabbing Merlin’s shaky hand and bringing it to his lips, pausing to find the splinter-marks and kissing each one lightly. The wood in Merlin’s other hand is the only thing separating them, and he rather wishes he could rid of it without disturbing the moment. Arthur does it instead, once he’s done with Merlin’s hand, grabbing the wood from him and tossing it on the ground before leaning in and kissing Merlin, not half as gently as he’d kissed his fingers, almost as if he’s dying and only Merlin’s lips can save him. He presses his crotch against Merlin’s and Merlin exhales, breath thick and moist between them, and Merlin darts his tongue out against Arthur’s own.
‘I didn’t get you a birthday present,’ he says suddenly, pulling away. ‘Unless you want ale.’
‘This,’ Arthur says, repeats it against Merlin’s lips. ‘This.’
Merlin pulls away again. ‘Mum’s probably expecting us back sometime -’
‘We can tell her we almost got eaten by splinters -’
Merlin lets out a chuckle. ‘I think I generally look upset when I almost get eaten by splinters, not elated.’
‘Do you want to, though?’ Arthur asks him, voice suddenly gentle, eyes serious.
‘Of course,’ Merlin says, fingering the rip in Arthur’s sleeve where he’d been cut, and notices the prince doesn’t flinch. ‘Tonight. For your birthday.’
Arthur leans in again, kissing Merlin for one last lingering moment. ‘Tonight,’ he agrees.
~
It’s only once they get back to the house that Merlin realizes he’d forgotten to check his hair for, say, the numerous bark-pieces that have made it their home, and the result is that when Hunith humorously asks him, ‘Have fun?’ he turns a deep red and turns quickly away even as she smiles.
~
The bonfire that night is huge, warm and delicious against Merlin’s skin. It is a welcome thing in the chill autumn air. It is an even better thing, he realizes, when Arthur comes up behind him and presses his side against Merlin’s. Somehow, though, the scene is bittersweet; Merlin remembers the last fire he’d seen in Ealdor, a pyre, and feeling Arthur’s form against him only reminds him of how close he and Will had been; and while Merlin never felt for Will what he feels for Arthur, it feels so specifically like it should be Will beside him, in their home, celebrating naught but life.
‘You look like you’re having difficulty, there,’ Arthur teases.
‘I’m just thinking,’ Merlin says.
‘That would explain it,’ Arthur responds, but when Merlin doesn’t retort or even smile back, he asks him what’s up.
‘Will,’ Merlin says simply. ‘You know he hated you, for a while, at least,’ he says. ‘But I think in the end he thought that if you knew about what I could do - he just wanted to protect me. And I think, somehow, he knew how I felt about you.’
‘Even then?’
‘How I felt about you, back then,’ Merlin clarifies, ‘was that you were a huge prat but you were a prince, too; I couldn’t just let you die. He sort of knew I had some sort of duty to you, I think.’
‘Hmm,’ Arthur says.
‘I actually still wonder if it wouldn’t have just been easier to run away when your father made me your manservant. It would’ve saved me a lot of near-death experiences, and anyway I hardly think it’s the praise I deserve for saving your life.’
‘Let me make it up to you, then,’ Arthur says, and covers Merlin’s hand with his own.
~
Once the fire’s gone down a bit, Merlin and Arthur go back to Hunith’s to drop off their mugs. Unfortunately, Merlin notices as soon as he enters that Hunith is still up and glad to see them both, a large mug in her hand. Arthur, following behind Merlin, stops when he sees the look on Hunith’s face.
‘Sit down, boys,’ she says, smiling at them.
‘Mum?’
‘Merlin,’ she says, once they’re all around the table. ‘I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you.’
‘Why -?’
‘For following your heart.’ Merlin blushes and she continues, ‘You did a terrible job of concealing it, my dear.’
Arthur snickers. Hunith brings her mug up to her face and doesn’t notice.
‘Do you know,’ she says, pointing her cup vaguely in Merlin’s direction, ‘Gaius was telling me, once, he’d found that people had gotten bugs from sex.’
‘That’s lovely,’ Merlin says, looking at Hunith skeptically. An aside to Arthur: ‘I’m not sure I want to know why they were discussing this -’
‘So I was just wondering,’ Hunith continues, ‘Arthur, dear, if you might have…’ She waves a hand in the air vaguely.
‘Erm,’ Arthur says, and Merlin, ‘Mum!’
‘Gaius said these things could be deadly, sometimes, I just wanted to be sure.’
‘There was that Sophia -’ he looks at Merlin when he says it, and Merlin interrupts him.
‘But you didn’t do anything with her, Arthur, surely? She tried to kill you!’
‘I - don’t recall,’ he says, and Merlin looks at him unbelievably. ‘I mean, I’m certain I didn’t. I think if we had her father would have been watching us the entire time, and I would have remembered that.’
‘Oh, that’s more than I wanted to think about -’
‘Right,’ Hunith says. ‘Now Merlin, I’d like to think I know everything about you -’
‘I,’ Merlin says, and reaches for Hunith’s cup; ‘I actually think that’s enough for tonight, Mum.’
As Merlin moves to empty the mugs outside, Arthur stands up. ‘Well, we’ll be a while longer. I thought I should stay at the fire seeing as it is my birthday-fire and all -’
‘I won’t wait up,’ Hunith says, smiling, and Merlin practically drops the third cup onto the counter. Arthur hides a smug smile as he makes his way out the door.
Once Hunith has her back turned, Merlin peruses the cupboard for what he is looking for, and, blushing, plucks the small vial of oil.
~
‘Here?’ Arthur asks, tentatively, stopping at the far side of a hillock that faces a field.
‘Yeah,’ Merlin says, softly. He isn’t sure what to do, so he turns around to face the field before them, back to the hillock.
‘Erm,’ Arthur says, ‘I think you should lie down.’
‘Right,’ Merlin says, ‘of course.’ He lies on the grass as casually as he can, legs sprawled out, knees slightly bent, supporting himself on his elbows.
‘You know,’ Arthur says, as he crawls beside Merlin and settles his hand on Merlin’s stomach, ‘it’s fitting that I should do this here, at your home, and on my birthday.’
‘Why?’ Merlin asks, trying to shove Arthur’s jacket off with one hand.
‘Because, somehow, it’s as if I really belong here.’ Arthur leans in to kiss him and Merlin leans back onto the grass, bringing up both his hands to remove Arthur’s jacket. He rests his hand against Arthur’s chest and gathers the shirt in his hand, pulling Arthur down to him.
‘I like that,’ Merlin says.
‘What?’ Arthur asks, and straddles his hips. He kisses Merlin again, more gently, and then rolls his hips against Merlin’s.
‘All of it,’ Merlin answers, and moans as Arthur repeats the action. He pulls at the hem of Arthur’s shirt even as Arthur fights to get Merlin’s shirt off, and Merlin rises up so that Arthur can remove it fully and then pulls Arthur’s over his arms and head. Arthur’s necklace tickles at Merlin’s neck when he leans down but he feels cold all of a sudden when Arthur’s body leaves him utterly. When he opens his eyes, however, he notices Arthur’s only trying - somewhat in vain - to unlace his breeches. ‘Let me, sire,’ he says, and the way it comes out of his throat makes Arthur whimper, even as Merlin pulls on a single string to loosen the threads. Arthur shoves them down his legs, but not all the way, and then hurriedly tries to loosen Merlin’s breeches.
Merlin moans once Arthur finally pulls them off, at the grass underneath his all-of-a-sudden hypersensitive skin and Arthur’s hand on his cock. Arthur kisses his chest down to his stomach, and when he finally gets there Merlin can feel the necklace brushing against his cock and it’s too much, fuck -
‘Arthur.’
Arthur, as if commanded to do so, takes Merlin’s cock in his mouth and worships the sensitive skin there with his tongue, the hot breath of his mouth, slightly clumsy in his lack of experience but still, when Merlin opens his eyes, fucking beautiful and really fucking unbelievable.
‘Please,’ he says, moaning and bucking up into Arthur’s mouth. Arthur slips his lips off with a pop and slides back up Merlin’s body. He quickly shoves his trousers off his ankles and kisses Merlin, rocking his hips against his newly-slickened cock and moaning into Merlin’s mouth.
‘If you want to take me -’ he says, and Merlin pulls away.
‘Are you sure?’ he asks, fire in his eyes but taken aback.
‘Yes, Merlin,’ Arthur says, ‘yes.’ He presses the cleft of his arse against Merlin’s cock and slides back and forth, and Merlin moans.
‘My jacket,’ Merlin says between breaths.
‘You - what?’ Arthur asks, pulling away. ‘I don’t think that’s how it works.’
‘No,’ Merlin says, and tries to reach for his jacket himself. Arthur retrieves it instead, holding it in front of him rather as if it’s some sort of disgusting animal. Merlin reaches into the pocket and retrieves the oil. Arthur’s face flashes with an unrecognizable gleam.
Arthur takes the liberty of applying the oil to Merlin himself, and then reaches behind him and for a moment Merlin doesn’t know what he’s doing until he looks down and sees Arthur’s fingers inside him.
Merlin slides against Arthur as much as he can and kisses him one last time, silently urging Arthur on. Arthur slowly lowers himself onto Merlin’s cock where they’re holding it, together, and Arthur hisses and drops the vial of oil on the ground next to them. It seeps into the grass and Merlin’s skin with a slickness that makes him want to slide against it; and he does. Arthur makes a whimpering sound.
‘Are you alright?’ Merlin asks.
‘Yes,’ Arthur says, breathlessly. ‘Just like that.’
When Arthur slides up and back down, Merlin raises his hips a bit to meet him, and Arthur throws his head back and gasps.
‘God,’ Arthur whispers, and leans down to kiss him quickly. He begins rocking against Merlin again, sliding back and forth, and Merlin tries to shove up each time Arthur slides back, just like before, until Arthur is moaning and shaking above him, breathing too hard even to kiss him anymore. He can feel Arthur’s cock sliding against his stomach, spreading Arthur’s own precome and sending waves of arousal through him. The oil against his back is cooling now in the night air, but Arthur is still hot around him, and the contrast makes his nerves alight.
Finally, with a quick moan and a sigh of ‘Merlin’ from Arthur’s lips, he comes on both their stomachs. His hand on Merlin’s arm clenches, Arthur’s short yet sharp nails digging into the warlock’s arm. Merlin comes inside Arthur and finally, finally feels complete.
A moment later, when they’ve caught their breath, Arthur slides off him and groans slightly. ‘God,’ he says, ‘Merlin.’ He collapses beside him on the grass and tangles his leg with Merlin’s, resting his head on his elbow to look down at him.
‘Happy birthday,’ Merlin says, smiling up at him, and Arthur leans down to kiss him again.
~
Hunith smiles down at them where they sleep. Breakfast can wait; right now she’s too busy watching the boys in their oblivion. Normally, she’d noticed, they sleep head to foot, but now -
If she’d ever had any doubts they’d have been gone when she awoke that morning to find them lying so close together that it didn’t seem they needed blankets anymore, drawing warmth from one another.
Arthur had mentioned they would probably be off today, and Hunith can’t help but feel the loss all the more greatly for what she knows they have now. It’s been wonderful having them both here - somehow, knowing Arthur’s own mother is gone, she feels as if she should take up the role - and she’s glad, so glad, that they’ve finally - well. She isn’t quite sure what to call it, but finally, she thinks. It’ll be so lonely in Ealdor now without two stupid boys to convince of their own love for one another, she realizes, and sighs.
~
While Merlin and Arthur are off - perhaps playing kick-the-ball with the boys, perhaps for time alone - she composes a letter. She knows this much: Merlin sleeps in Gaius’s quarters, and Gaius is terribly old and may misunderstand, and Merlin, her dear thickheaded son, won’t tell Gaius, won’t want to.
I suppose you must know, Gaius, she writes, not sure what words will come from her pen next but writing anyway; Merlin and Arthur are two very special boys. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it seemed to me that they quite loved each other, so upon their arrival here I took it upon myself to show them as much. It’s been long enough, anyway. I thought Merlin would be too embarrassed to tell you as much, but they are together, it would seem, in a romantic manner. I’m not sure if either will mention it at the castle, but I thought I might tell you not to wait up for Merlin every night, and not to worry, for it would be in vain: he’s safe, happy, and in love.
Oh, but Gaius dear, please don’t embarrass them about it. I’ve already done it enough for us both. Thank you.
~
She gives the letter to Merlin - ‘For Gaius,’ she says, and he nods. She looks at him for a moment tearfully and pulls him into a hug. ‘I love you, Merlin.’
‘Yeah, mum. I love you too.’
Merlin rolls his eyes at Arthur where he stands behind Hunith, but Arthur only smiles at him, lost in the sight.
~
They near Camelot in a matter of a few slow days that pass too quickly. Tomorrow they’ll set off and hopefully reach Camelot by early afternoon, but for now Arthur only sighs his release and collapses at Merlin’s side.
Once he gets his breath back, he says happily, ‘Your mother is wonderful.’
Merlin raises himself up on his elbow and looks down at Arthur. ‘What?’ He’s still flushed, his skin glowing and his lip pouting and his brow furrowed and Arthur can’t help but lean up to kiss him.
‘She made me realize -’
He stops, at a loss for words, but mostly because he’s afraid to sound like a girl.
‘Yeah,’ Merlin says, letting his fingers dance around Arthur’s healing wound. ‘You know, it’s worse if you’re her son.’
Arthur laughs at him. ‘I happen to love her son,’ he says, and Merlin smiles at him, dropping down and turning to face Arthur.
‘I wonder,’ Merlin says. ‘That night, you said it was fitting we - in my home. Does this mean we won’t - when we get to the castle?’
‘No,’ Arthur says, and a second time more firmly, ‘no. Not unless you asked it, of course.’
‘I would never ask it,’ Merlin says, honestly.
‘Good,’ Arthur says, ‘that was the plan.’
~
When Merlin gives Gaius the letter, he shifts from foot to foot and watches as Gaius reads it. Gaius’s eyebrows slowly climb up by small degrees until finally Merlin thinks they will fly off completely. Gaius looks up at him, wide-eyed.
‘Oh,’ he says, ‘well.’
Merlin furrows his brow as Arthur munches on an apple, casually leaning against the table. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing,’ Gaius says, ‘I’m very glad you had a good time.’ He walks away to his cabinet. ‘Anyway, I’ve got work to do.’
‘Right,’ Merlin says. ‘Anything I can do?’
Gaius looks up at him and glances at Arthur quickly. ‘Oh no; if you have any duties for Arthur feel free to spend as long as you want doing them.’
‘What?’ Merlin says, turning around to look at Arthur for an answer. Arthur only laughs at him.
‘You know, Merlin, I actually do need help writing up a report about our journey…’
They go to Arthur’s chambers to do just that, and if they take a little longer than they should, well -
fin.
They ride all of the next day and don’t come across storms at all. By evening they can see Ealdor, and Merlin smiles broadly.
‘Finally,’ he says, and breathes a sigh of relief.
~
When they knock on Hunith’s door, they are greeted with a yelp as Merlin is pulled into a hug. Once she lets go of her son, Hunith begins berating him.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you would be coming? I’m hardly prepared for company,’ she says, ushering them in.
‘Mum, I’m sorry; I would have written but I didn’t have much notice…’
Hunith looks at them, Arthur wounded and Merlin flustered and red-faced and both of them travel-weary. ‘Well, anyway,’ she says, ‘I hope you’re alright. But why have you come?’
‘It’s my birthday,’ Arthur says, even as Merlin opens his mouth to speak. ‘In a few days, at any rate. Birthdays at the castle are horrid.’
‘Well,’ Hunith says modestly, ‘if you were hoping for a better celebration, you’re certainly in the wrong place.’
~
‘How are you, Merlin?’ Hunith asks seriously, when he’s helping her gather firewood later that night.
‘Well,’ Merlin says, evasively. ‘I knew Arthur didn’t want to stay at the castle for a feast, and anyway we had to check up on the crops of Camelot’s villages - they’ve been suffering drought, see -’
Merlin is bending to pick up a rather large hunk of wood and so doesn’t notice Hunith staring at him. ‘You believe that’s the only reason he came here?’
Merlin straightens, examining the wood quickly and looking at her. ‘Suppose so, why?’
‘I don’t think he really wants to spend his birthday here - I don’t believe he’s too fond of my cooking.’
‘I - may have let it slip a few times. That I missed home, I mean.’
Hunith smiles at him. ‘He’s here because of you, Merlin.’
Merlin examines the wood again, hissing at the splinters that catch at his fingers as he runs them along the edges. ‘More like to get away from his father, I think.’
‘Merlin,’ Hunith says, walking over to him to grab his hand, drawing his gaze to her own eyes. ‘He seems to have sacrificed a lot for you. I know you’re just his manservant, but he treats you like something much more important.’
‘Because he knows he’d die without me.’
Hunith smiles gently and shakes her head a bit. ‘I don’t think that’s the whole of it.’ She releases Merlin’s hand.
‘He knows about my magic. On the way here, that is, we were attacked by bandits. I couldn’t stop it, it was the only weapon I had.’
‘And he’s accepted you.’
Merlin nods.
‘Then you know it’s not just about saving each other’s life. He realizes the sacrifices you’ve made for his own safety.’
Merlin again nods. ‘I suppose.’
Hunith puts one hand on the side of Merlin’s face. ‘I never sent you to Camelot with such intentions.’
‘I know, mum.’
She smiles at him, and nearly whispers, ‘I’m sorry.’ Just before she turns to leave, Merlin can see her eyes are full of tears.
‘It’s worth it,’ he calls after her.
Hunith turns her head slightly and smiles at him. ‘I can see. The both of you are going to be brilliant someday, together, Merlin.’
She walks away, leaving Merlin wondering if he had just admitted to something.
~
The next day Merlin is awoken by a foot in his face. He shoves it off roughly.
‘Merlin,’ he hears Arthur say somewhere near his own feet.
‘Arthur,’ he responds, ‘you’re disgusting.’
Arthur sits up, looking groggy, hair tousled. ‘You’re sacked,’ he says, ‘just for that.’
‘You can’t sack me in my own home,’ Merlin argues.
‘I just did.’
Merlin’s next comment is cut off by Hunith’s laughter.
‘Breakfast?’ Merlin ventures, and when Hunith confirms it Merlin jumps up, grabbing the blanket and turning to reach for his jacket, but Arthur grabs the end of the blanket and pulls, causing Merlin to fall down. Merlin, in retaliation, throws Arthur’s blanket over the prince, exposing his bare feet. Arthur hisses, curling his feet up against the cool air.
‘You look ridiculous,’ Merlin says, laughing, and scurries to where Hunith is holding a bowl of meal before Arthur can get him.
~
They are playing a game of kick-the-ball with some of the younger lads - or, to be more precise, Merlin is playing with them, as they are his old acquaintances, while Arthur stands on the sidelines and laughs at even the smallest mistake his manservant makes.
‘Wrong post, Merlin,’ he yells, laughing as Merlin kicks the ball enthusiastically past his own team’s goal post. Merlin’s teammates groan and he shrugs, smiling all the while.
Hunith comes out of the house, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘The boys have played this for as long as I can remember,’ she says, ‘I remember wanting to play as a girl and no one would let me. I might say with good reason, if I would have played as well as Merlin.’
She laughs and Arthur smiles at her. ‘You should play,’ she adds. ‘At any rate the boys would love to play with one so esteemed.’
‘Oh,’ Arthur corrects her, ‘I’m only watching this round to get a grip on how to play. Next game’s mine.’
‘Of course. So what do you expect from us Ealdorians for your birthday, sire? I know you said you didn’t want a celebration, but I feel compelled -’
‘Please, Hunith, I just wanted to spend my birthday somewhere quiet,’ he says, watching Merlin intently.
‘Are you sure that’s all of it?’
‘Merlin - he -’
‘Yes,’ she says, ‘forgive me for being so brash, sire, but you care for my son greatly.’
Arthur shrugs. ‘He’s saved my life more than anyone, save, perhaps, my father. I can’t do much else.’
‘Certainly. Is that how you saw it fit to accept his abilities?’ Arthur looks at her seriously, and she adds, ‘He told me you found out.’
Arthur looks away when he responds. ‘I wouldn’t say that it was a matter of needing him around to save my life. And I’m certainly not keeping him around as a manservant because he can hardly do that -’
Hunith takes the lull in conversation, the loss of words that Arthur is suffering, to inquire further. ‘Then why not rid of him?’
Arthur continues staring fixedly at the game, not entirely sure of the answer himself and perhaps trying to find it in the way Merlin so ridiculously kicks the ball with enthusiasm to the other goal post and misses, or the surrounding sounds of the crickets and other night insects, or just in the way Ealdor feels so differently from Camelot, where he can’t do these things.
‘I would never,’ he says at last, voice hoarse from having been lost for such a long moment.
Hunith puts a hand on his arm. ‘I’m glad,’ she says. She smiles at him and goes back into the house. Arthur turns back to the game, now ended, and sees all the lads and Merlin passing around a skin of water. He takes a moment to compose himself and clears his throat before shouting, ‘Come on then,’ and running on to the field. ‘My turn!’
~
‘It’s not even fair,’ Merlin says, glaring at Arthur. ‘You’re a prince, I’m pretty sure your team should have lost points just for having that advantage.’
‘You can’t change the rules after the game, Merlin.’
‘That was for future reference,’ Merlin says, taking a swig of his ale.
‘Of course. But for now, you’re going to get drunk.’
‘It’s your birthday tomorrow; I might as well start celebrating now. Gods know I won’t be able to drink at all once we get back to Camelot.’
‘You never told me you wanted a drink. All you had to do was ask.’
‘I’m fairly certain you mentioned once that you couldn’t be seen buying drinks for your manservant -’
‘But I sacked you this morning, remember.’
‘Oh,’ Merlin says, taking another quick drink. ‘Of course.’
‘How’s your hand?’ Hunith asks, entering the room.
‘I think those splinters had teeth,’ Merlin says. ‘Big, sharp teeth. Probably full of venom.’
‘You wish,’ Arthur says, ‘then you could brag about how you almost died. Pity you would have to tell everyone it was at the hands of wood.’
As Hunith grabs Merlin’s hand to examine the splinter-bites, Merlin says quite soberly, ‘This is very serious business, Arthur.’
‘Ah,’ Hunith says, ‘’twould be because I forgot a splinter. I’m sorry, dear. I’ll get it.’
‘I’ll get water,’ Arthur says, standing up before either mother or son can say anything. Merlin watches him curiously, and Hunith looks at Merlin.
‘You love him,’ she whispers, so quietly, but still divulging so much of the truth that Merlin’s eyes flit to her face and quickly to Arthur again to see if he’s heard.
‘Mum!’
Hunith smiles and thanks Arthur kindly when he sets the bowl down on the table beside her. She digs the splinter out of the crook of Merlin’s index finger and Merlin afterward soaks his hand in the warm water, letting the pain of being eaten alive by splinters dissipate.
Hunith stands. ‘I’m rather tired, boys. If you don’t mind, I’ll just be going to sleep. And don’t worry about making too much noise, I’m a rather deep sleeper.’
‘Sleep well,’ Arthur says, and Hunith smiles at him, kissing the top of Merlin’s head. Just before she goes, she turns away slightly and hisses near his ear, ‘Do something, Merlin. He feels the same.’ Merlin blushes furiously red and when Arthur just stares at him he takes a deep drink of his ale.
‘Your burn is getting worse,’ Arthur says quietly. ‘You look more like a red rose now.’
‘Oh, shut up,’ Merlin says, but throughout the rest of the night their moments of conversation are moments to say the right or wrong thing, and moments of silence are moments to think about what his mother meant. Merlin, despite the warming effects of the ale, feels dreadfully confused, and when they finally settle down for sleep, his belly sloshing with liquid and his brain fuzzy, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to do something, to act on impulse and try to shut Arthur up with something other than words.
Unfortunately, Merlin’s brain is so fuzzy that before he can think about it, before he can realize that it’s true, even though his mother told him earlier that evening, just as he’s about to drop off the edge of consciousness Merlin murmurs, ‘I love you, Arthur,’ but feels so warm and so full and so content that he falls asleep and doesn’t notice Arthur sitting up and watching him for a long while, wondering at his words.
~
The next day is Arthur’s birthday, and in the early afternoon Merlin and Arthur are sent off by a rather insistent Hunith to gather wood for a bonfire that evening. She motions them with her arms to go, and Arthur laughs at her antics.
‘You know,’ he says once they’re far from the village, inspecting a piece of wood and piling it atop the few others he’s already gathered, ‘I could have sworn I heard the strangest thing last night.’ His voice is so nonchalant, but in its lack of gravitas seems to make the issue worse. Merlin stills, his stomach dropping. He’d only just remembered what he’d said when he’d woken up that morning and had hoped he could get away with ignoring that it had happened, but -
‘Is it true?’
‘What?’ Merlin asks, playing oblivious.
‘I know you were quite intoxicated, Merlin, but you told me before you fell asleep that you loved me. You’re lucky I’ve already sacked you, or I might have to do it again; I’m quite certain relations between prince and manservant are against some sort of code.’
‘What do you mean?’ Merlin asks, brow furrowed and blushing even as Arthur turns his gaze upon him.
‘I mean, Merlin, that you’re hideously red - hideously, remember that - and somehow I still want to -’
He drops the wood, walking up to Merlin and cornering him rather unfairly against a tree.
‘I mean, you’re bright red and you’re clumsier than anyone I’ve ever met and you complain about splinters and I still want you.’
Merlin’s breath catches in his throat as Arthur takes a step forward, and he can feel Arthur’s own breath ghosting his face. He tries at, ‘The splinters really did hurt, though - they still do -’
‘Then let me,’ Arthur says, grabbing Merlin’s shaky hand and bringing it to his lips, pausing to find the splinter-marks and kissing each one lightly. The wood in Merlin’s other hand is the only thing separating them, and he rather wishes he could rid of it without disturbing the moment. Arthur does it instead, once he’s done with Merlin’s hand, grabbing the wood from him and tossing it on the ground before leaning in and kissing Merlin, not half as gently as he’d kissed his fingers, almost as if he’s dying and only Merlin’s lips can save him. He presses his crotch against Merlin’s and Merlin exhales, breath thick and moist between them, and Merlin darts his tongue out against Arthur’s own.
‘I didn’t get you a birthday present,’ he says suddenly, pulling away. ‘Unless you want ale.’
‘This,’ Arthur says, repeats it against Merlin’s lips. ‘This.’
Merlin pulls away again. ‘Mum’s probably expecting us back sometime -’
‘We can tell her we almost got eaten by splinters -’
Merlin lets out a chuckle. ‘I think I generally look upset when I almost get eaten by splinters, not elated.’
‘Do you want to, though?’ Arthur asks him, voice suddenly gentle, eyes serious.
‘Of course,’ Merlin says, fingering the rip in Arthur’s sleeve where he’d been cut, and notices the prince doesn’t flinch. ‘Tonight. For your birthday.’
Arthur leans in again, kissing Merlin for one last lingering moment. ‘Tonight,’ he agrees.
~
It’s only once they get back to the house that Merlin realizes he’d forgotten to check his hair for, say, the numerous bark-pieces that have made it their home, and the result is that when Hunith humorously asks him, ‘Have fun?’ he turns a deep red and turns quickly away even as she smiles.
~
The bonfire that night is huge, warm and delicious against Merlin’s skin. It is a welcome thing in the chill autumn air. It is an even better thing, he realizes, when Arthur comes up behind him and presses his side against Merlin’s. Somehow, though, the scene is bittersweet; Merlin remembers the last fire he’d seen in Ealdor, a pyre, and feeling Arthur’s form against him only reminds him of how close he and Will had been; and while Merlin never felt for Will what he feels for Arthur, it feels so specifically like it should be Will beside him, in their home, celebrating naught but life.
‘You look like you’re having difficulty, there,’ Arthur teases.
‘I’m just thinking,’ Merlin says.
‘That would explain it,’ Arthur responds, but when Merlin doesn’t retort or even smile back, he asks him what’s up.
‘Will,’ Merlin says simply. ‘You know he hated you, for a while, at least,’ he says. ‘But I think in the end he thought that if you knew about what I could do - he just wanted to protect me. And I think, somehow, he knew how I felt about you.’
‘Even then?’
‘How I felt about you, back then,’ Merlin clarifies, ‘was that you were a huge prat but you were a prince, too; I couldn’t just let you die. He sort of knew I had some sort of duty to you, I think.’
‘Hmm,’ Arthur says.
‘I actually still wonder if it wouldn’t have just been easier to run away when your father made me your manservant. It would’ve saved me a lot of near-death experiences, and anyway I hardly think it’s the praise I deserve for saving your life.’
‘Let me make it up to you, then,’ Arthur says, and covers Merlin’s hand with his own.
~
Once the fire’s gone down a bit, Merlin and Arthur go back to Hunith’s to drop off their mugs. Unfortunately, Merlin notices as soon as he enters that Hunith is still up and glad to see them both, a large mug in her hand. Arthur, following behind Merlin, stops when he sees the look on Hunith’s face.
‘Sit down, boys,’ she says, smiling at them.
‘Mum?’
‘Merlin,’ she says, once they’re all around the table. ‘I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you.’
‘Why -?’
‘For following your heart.’ Merlin blushes and she continues, ‘You did a terrible job of concealing it, my dear.’
Arthur snickers. Hunith brings her mug up to her face and doesn’t notice.
‘Do you know,’ she says, pointing her cup vaguely in Merlin’s direction, ‘Gaius was telling me, once, he’d found that people had gotten bugs from sex.’
‘That’s lovely,’ Merlin says, looking at Hunith skeptically. An aside to Arthur: ‘I’m not sure I want to know why they were discussing this -’
‘So I was just wondering,’ Hunith continues, ‘Arthur, dear, if you might have…’ She waves a hand in the air vaguely.
‘Erm,’ Arthur says, and Merlin, ‘Mum!’
‘Gaius said these things could be deadly, sometimes, I just wanted to be sure.’
‘There was that Sophia -’ he looks at Merlin when he says it, and Merlin interrupts him.
‘But you didn’t do anything with her, Arthur, surely? She tried to kill you!’
‘I - don’t recall,’ he says, and Merlin looks at him unbelievably. ‘I mean, I’m certain I didn’t. I think if we had her father would have been watching us the entire time, and I would have remembered that.’
‘Oh, that’s more than I wanted to think about -’
‘Right,’ Hunith says. ‘Now Merlin, I’d like to think I know everything about you -’
‘I,’ Merlin says, and reaches for Hunith’s cup; ‘I actually think that’s enough for tonight, Mum.’
As Merlin moves to empty the mugs outside, Arthur stands up. ‘Well, we’ll be a while longer. I thought I should stay at the fire seeing as it is my birthday-fire and all -’
‘I won’t wait up,’ Hunith says, smiling, and Merlin practically drops the third cup onto the counter. Arthur hides a smug smile as he makes his way out the door.
Once Hunith has her back turned, Merlin peruses the cupboard for what he is looking for, and, blushing, plucks the small vial of oil.
~
‘Here?’ Arthur asks, tentatively, stopping at the far side of a hillock that faces a field.
‘Yeah,’ Merlin says, softly. He isn’t sure what to do, so he turns around to face the field before them, back to the hillock.
‘Erm,’ Arthur says, ‘I think you should lie down.’
‘Right,’ Merlin says, ‘of course.’ He lies on the grass as casually as he can, legs sprawled out, knees slightly bent, supporting himself on his elbows.
‘You know,’ Arthur says, as he crawls beside Merlin and settles his hand on Merlin’s stomach, ‘it’s fitting that I should do this here, at your home, and on my birthday.’
‘Why?’ Merlin asks, trying to shove Arthur’s jacket off with one hand.
‘Because, somehow, it’s as if I really belong here.’ Arthur leans in to kiss him and Merlin leans back onto the grass, bringing up both his hands to remove Arthur’s jacket. He rests his hand against Arthur’s chest and gathers the shirt in his hand, pulling Arthur down to him.
‘I like that,’ Merlin says.
‘What?’ Arthur asks, and straddles his hips. He kisses Merlin again, more gently, and then rolls his hips against Merlin’s.
‘All of it,’ Merlin answers, and moans as Arthur repeats the action. He pulls at the hem of Arthur’s shirt even as Arthur fights to get Merlin’s shirt off, and Merlin rises up so that Arthur can remove it fully and then pulls Arthur’s over his arms and head. Arthur’s necklace tickles at Merlin’s neck when he leans down but he feels cold all of a sudden when Arthur’s body leaves him utterly. When he opens his eyes, however, he notices Arthur’s only trying - somewhat in vain - to unlace his breeches. ‘Let me, sire,’ he says, and the way it comes out of his throat makes Arthur whimper, even as Merlin pulls on a single string to loosen the threads. Arthur shoves them down his legs, but not all the way, and then hurriedly tries to loosen Merlin’s breeches.
Merlin moans once Arthur finally pulls them off, at the grass underneath his all-of-a-sudden hypersensitive skin and Arthur’s hand on his cock. Arthur kisses his chest down to his stomach, and when he finally gets there Merlin can feel the necklace brushing against his cock and it’s too much, fuck -
‘Arthur.’
Arthur, as if commanded to do so, takes Merlin’s cock in his mouth and worships the sensitive skin there with his tongue, the hot breath of his mouth, slightly clumsy in his lack of experience but still, when Merlin opens his eyes, fucking beautiful and really fucking unbelievable.
‘Please,’ he says, moaning and bucking up into Arthur’s mouth. Arthur slips his lips off with a pop and slides back up Merlin’s body. He quickly shoves his trousers off his ankles and kisses Merlin, rocking his hips against his newly-slickened cock and moaning into Merlin’s mouth.
‘If you want to take me -’ he says, and Merlin pulls away.
‘Are you sure?’ he asks, fire in his eyes but taken aback.
‘Yes, Merlin,’ Arthur says, ‘yes.’ He presses the cleft of his arse against Merlin’s cock and slides back and forth, and Merlin moans.
‘My jacket,’ Merlin says between breaths.
‘You - what?’ Arthur asks, pulling away. ‘I don’t think that’s how it works.’
‘No,’ Merlin says, and tries to reach for his jacket himself. Arthur retrieves it instead, holding it in front of him rather as if it’s some sort of disgusting animal. Merlin reaches into the pocket and retrieves the oil. Arthur’s face flashes with an unrecognizable gleam.
Arthur takes the liberty of applying the oil to Merlin himself, and then reaches behind him and for a moment Merlin doesn’t know what he’s doing until he looks down and sees Arthur’s fingers inside him.
Merlin slides against Arthur as much as he can and kisses him one last time, silently urging Arthur on. Arthur slowly lowers himself onto Merlin’s cock where they’re holding it, together, and Arthur hisses and drops the vial of oil on the ground next to them. It seeps into the grass and Merlin’s skin with a slickness that makes him want to slide against it; and he does. Arthur makes a whimpering sound.
‘Are you alright?’ Merlin asks.
‘Yes,’ Arthur says, breathlessly. ‘Just like that.’
When Arthur slides up and back down, Merlin raises his hips a bit to meet him, and Arthur throws his head back and gasps.
‘God,’ Arthur whispers, and leans down to kiss him quickly. He begins rocking against Merlin again, sliding back and forth, and Merlin tries to shove up each time Arthur slides back, just like before, until Arthur is moaning and shaking above him, breathing too hard even to kiss him anymore. He can feel Arthur’s cock sliding against his stomach, spreading Arthur’s own precome and sending waves of arousal through him. The oil against his back is cooling now in the night air, but Arthur is still hot around him, and the contrast makes his nerves alight.
Finally, with a quick moan and a sigh of ‘Merlin’ from Arthur’s lips, he comes on both their stomachs. His hand on Merlin’s arm clenches, Arthur’s short yet sharp nails digging into the warlock’s arm. Merlin comes inside Arthur and finally, finally feels complete.
A moment later, when they’ve caught their breath, Arthur slides off him and groans slightly. ‘God,’ he says, ‘Merlin.’ He collapses beside him on the grass and tangles his leg with Merlin’s, resting his head on his elbow to look down at him.
‘Happy birthday,’ Merlin says, smiling up at him, and Arthur leans down to kiss him again.
~
Hunith smiles down at them where they sleep. Breakfast can wait; right now she’s too busy watching the boys in their oblivion. Normally, she’d noticed, they sleep head to foot, but now -
If she’d ever had any doubts they’d have been gone when she awoke that morning to find them lying so close together that it didn’t seem they needed blankets anymore, drawing warmth from one another.
Arthur had mentioned they would probably be off today, and Hunith can’t help but feel the loss all the more greatly for what she knows they have now. It’s been wonderful having them both here - somehow, knowing Arthur’s own mother is gone, she feels as if she should take up the role - and she’s glad, so glad, that they’ve finally - well. She isn’t quite sure what to call it, but finally, she thinks. It’ll be so lonely in Ealdor now without two stupid boys to convince of their own love for one another, she realizes, and sighs.
~
While Merlin and Arthur are off - perhaps playing kick-the-ball with the boys, perhaps for time alone - she composes a letter. She knows this much: Merlin sleeps in Gaius’s quarters, and Gaius is terribly old and may misunderstand, and Merlin, her dear thickheaded son, won’t tell Gaius, won’t want to.
I suppose you must know, Gaius, she writes, not sure what words will come from her pen next but writing anyway; Merlin and Arthur are two very special boys. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it seemed to me that they quite loved each other, so upon their arrival here I took it upon myself to show them as much. It’s been long enough, anyway. I thought Merlin would be too embarrassed to tell you as much, but they are together, it would seem, in a romantic manner. I’m not sure if either will mention it at the castle, but I thought I might tell you not to wait up for Merlin every night, and not to worry, for it would be in vain: he’s safe, happy, and in love.
Oh, but Gaius dear, please don’t embarrass them about it. I’ve already done it enough for us both. Thank you.
~
She gives the letter to Merlin - ‘For Gaius,’ she says, and he nods. She looks at him for a moment tearfully and pulls him into a hug. ‘I love you, Merlin.’
‘Yeah, mum. I love you too.’
Merlin rolls his eyes at Arthur where he stands behind Hunith, but Arthur only smiles at him, lost in the sight.
~
They near Camelot in a matter of a few slow days that pass too quickly. Tomorrow they’ll set off and hopefully reach Camelot by early afternoon, but for now Arthur only sighs his release and collapses at Merlin’s side.
Once he gets his breath back, he says happily, ‘Your mother is wonderful.’
Merlin raises himself up on his elbow and looks down at Arthur. ‘What?’ He’s still flushed, his skin glowing and his lip pouting and his brow furrowed and Arthur can’t help but lean up to kiss him.
‘She made me realize -’
He stops, at a loss for words, but mostly because he’s afraid to sound like a girl.
‘Yeah,’ Merlin says, letting his fingers dance around Arthur’s healing wound. ‘You know, it’s worse if you’re her son.’
Arthur laughs at him. ‘I happen to love her son,’ he says, and Merlin smiles at him, dropping down and turning to face Arthur.
‘I wonder,’ Merlin says. ‘That night, you said it was fitting we - in my home. Does this mean we won’t - when we get to the castle?’
‘No,’ Arthur says, and a second time more firmly, ‘no. Not unless you asked it, of course.’
‘I would never ask it,’ Merlin says, honestly.
‘Good,’ Arthur says, ‘that was the plan.’
~
When Merlin gives Gaius the letter, he shifts from foot to foot and watches as Gaius reads it. Gaius’s eyebrows slowly climb up by small degrees until finally Merlin thinks they will fly off completely. Gaius looks up at him, wide-eyed.
‘Oh,’ he says, ‘well.’
Merlin furrows his brow as Arthur munches on an apple, casually leaning against the table. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing,’ Gaius says, ‘I’m very glad you had a good time.’ He walks away to his cabinet. ‘Anyway, I’ve got work to do.’
‘Right,’ Merlin says. ‘Anything I can do?’
Gaius looks up at him and glances at Arthur quickly. ‘Oh no; if you have any duties for Arthur feel free to spend as long as you want doing them.’
‘What?’ Merlin says, turning around to look at Arthur for an answer. Arthur only laughs at him.
‘You know, Merlin, I actually do need help writing up a report about our journey…’
They go to Arthur’s chambers to do just that, and if they take a little longer than they should, well -
fin.