Breaking the Calm
Title: Breaking the Calm
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: G
Word Count: 1250
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, as much as I want them to be.
Summary: After Merlin is injured, Arthur goes to visit him. What happens will surprise them both. Set in early S3.
A/N 1: I blame aythia for this again, just because I can, especially since this isn't even the Merlin fic I planned to write when I opened my word doc today. *facepalm*
A/N 2: Thanks to dugindeep for the super fast beta. <3
Merlin opened his eyes slowly. He felt like a great big dog was sitting on his chest, and his vision was blurry, everything appearing hazy and indistinct. He blinked several times before it cleared and he could see properly again. Attempting to sit up made his chest hurt worse, and he collapsed back onto his narrow bed with a groan, hand coming up to rub at his chest and finding a thick bandage covering half of his torso. A memory floated to the fore, then, of a creature with large claws batting him out of the way to reach Arthur. Oh. Arthur. What had--
A second attempt at sitting proved just as painful and fruitless as the first, and he fell back against the bed again, breathing heavily through his nose to ease the pain. If he knew a spell to numb the body, he’d cast it right now, damn the consequences.
A noise from below drew his attention to the door, and he looked over just as it opened and a familiar blond head peeked inside. For one moment, Arthur’s face lit up, bright and shiny and everything Merlin secretly longed for, and then a serious expression took over, a frown drawing his eyebrows together. Merlin’s fingers twitched, wanting to smooth the lines on Arthur’s forehead, and he tucked them beneath the striped blanket so he wouldn’t reach out as Arthur drew closer.
“Merlin! You’re awake!” He said it with surprise--and worry--lacing the words, as if he’d expected a still sleeping Merlin when he arrived. Merlin wondered what he was doing here then, if that were the case. Surely the prince wasn’t tending to him.
“Yes,” Merlin replied, then winced at the raw sound of his own voice. How long have I been asleep?
Arthur pulled a small stool close to Merlin’s bed and lowered himself onto it. He studied Merlin for a long moment, blue eyes troubled. The dark smudges under those eyes told Merlin that Arthur hadn’t slept much lately either, and he hoped the creature, whatever it was, hadn’t been terrorizing the people of Camelot for many days.
Shifting under Arthur’s serious gaze, Merlin opened his mouth to ask the many questions clambering around in his mind, but recoiled when Arthur smacked him on the shoulder. “Ow!” he burst out, glaring at his stupid, brutish prince.
“You nearly died!” Arthur shouted back, eyes narrowing as he leaned down to scowl at Merlin.
“And that’s a reason to hit me? Prat!” Arthur continued to stare at him mulishly, and Merlin prepared to yell back until he noticed the hard set of Arthur’s shoulders and the way he was clenching his jaw. “You were scared for me!” he said, awestruck.
“I was not!” Arthur snapped and straightened up, crossing his arms defensively. “I was worried about Gaius.”
“Gaius?”
“Yes. He’s an old man. It might destroy him if you die.”
“Right. You were worried about Gaius being upset.”
“That is what I said.”
“Hm. Lucky thing I’m all right, and there’s no need to worry anymore.”
Arthur huffed, working his jaw. Merlin rolled his eyes. He was used to Arthur’s stubborn refusal to acknowledge any kind of weakness or fondness for anyone. Just once, he’d like--but, no, that would never happen.
“Is Gaius here?” he asked, rubbing at his chest again. Whatever that hairy beast had been, it’d seemingly taken out a rather large chunk of his skin. It itched and pulled every time he moved.
“He’s downstairs. Why? Do you hurt? Can you breathe all right? Gaius said you’d be all right once you awoke. He promised me!” He punctuated the last with a fist to the wall. It didn’t leave a mark but made Merlin jump.
Merlin gaped at this transformation of Arthur from carefully detached to fiery with rage. He’d never had such emotion directed at him or for him, not from Arthur.
Lifting a hand, Merlin took hold of Arthur’s shirt. It was one of the soft, thin ones he wore for sleeping, Merlin saw for the first time, and he was barefoot, hair disheveled. Had he come straight from his chambers to Merlin’s small room, with no care to how he looked to the rest of the castle?
“Arthur. Arthur!”
Arthur finally glanced up at Merlin’s raised voice, his breathing so harsh and loud that Merlin wondered how Arthur was getting any air in at all. “I’m fine. I’m just hungry and thirsty,” he lied. He could tell Gaius about the pain later. Right now he needed to calm Arthur down. “I’m fine, I swear.”
Arthur nodded and seemed to deflate, all the anger draining out of him and leaving him slumped on the stool.
“There was--there was so much blood,” Arthur said quietly, brushing an impatient hand across his eyes. Merlin had to strain to hear him. “Everyone was shouting and running everywhere after the creature. Leon knocked me out its path and handed my sword back to me, but all I saw was the blood. Your shirt was soaked red with it, Merlin, so much you couldn’t see the blue of the fabric anymore. It scared me.”
Merlin’s breath hitched with Arthur’s, eyes stinging with tears. “Arthur,” he murmured gently, but Arthur didn’t react, too caught up in the memory he was reliving.
“I should’ve--it should’ve been me killing the creature, but I was on my knees in the dirt beside you, trying to stop the blood. All that blood. I don’t even know who finally landed the killing blow. We got you back here as quickly as possible. You were so still and pale, and Gaius wouldn’t let me in the room while he worked on you. Someone dragged me back to my chambers. I think it was Leon. It’s been four days. Gaius promised you’d wake, but I--”
He stopped abruptly, hanging his head, and despite the aching twinge in his chest, Merlin slipped out of bed and knelt on the floor in front of Arthur. Cupping one beard-rough cheek, Merlin wiped away Arthur’s tears, touch soft. Arthur made a strangled noise but remained absolutely still, even now not willing to shed the controlled prince and let go.
“I’m all right,” he whispered against Arthur’s mouth, not quite a kiss but closer than he ever dared hope he’d get. “Arthur, I’m all right. Can’t you feel that?”
Arthur shuddered, then suddenly wrapped his arms tight around Merlin, face tucked into the curve of Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin bit back a cry of pain as his wound twinged, but nothing else mattered, because Arthur was holding him and repeating his name in a tender way he’d never heard Arthur--or anyone--say before.
They stayed like that for an eternity that didn’t last nearly long enough. Merlin pulled away and kissed Arthur’s cheek, smiling softly. Arthur still looked troubled, the echo of his memory creating shadows in his eyes, and there was no way he could stand for that.
“Next time, kill the creature before it attacks me, you dollophead,” he said and was pleased when it startled a laugh out of Arthur.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he answered dryly, one side of his mouth curling into a reluctant smile. “Merlin,” he said, quieter and with that soft edge to it that caused Merlin’s heart to beat faster. “Don’t ever do that to me again. If I lost you…”
“I won’t,” he promised, and this time Arthur kissed him, a proper kiss that made everything else fade away.
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: G
Word Count: 1250
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine, as much as I want them to be.
Summary: After Merlin is injured, Arthur goes to visit him. What happens will surprise them both. Set in early S3.
A/N 1: I blame aythia for this again, just because I can, especially since this isn't even the Merlin fic I planned to write when I opened my word doc today. *facepalm*
A/N 2: Thanks to dugindeep for the super fast beta. <3
Merlin opened his eyes slowly. He felt like a great big dog was sitting on his chest, and his vision was blurry, everything appearing hazy and indistinct. He blinked several times before it cleared and he could see properly again. Attempting to sit up made his chest hurt worse, and he collapsed back onto his narrow bed with a groan, hand coming up to rub at his chest and finding a thick bandage covering half of his torso. A memory floated to the fore, then, of a creature with large claws batting him out of the way to reach Arthur. Oh. Arthur. What had--
A second attempt at sitting proved just as painful and fruitless as the first, and he fell back against the bed again, breathing heavily through his nose to ease the pain. If he knew a spell to numb the body, he’d cast it right now, damn the consequences.
A noise from below drew his attention to the door, and he looked over just as it opened and a familiar blond head peeked inside. For one moment, Arthur’s face lit up, bright and shiny and everything Merlin secretly longed for, and then a serious expression took over, a frown drawing his eyebrows together. Merlin’s fingers twitched, wanting to smooth the lines on Arthur’s forehead, and he tucked them beneath the striped blanket so he wouldn’t reach out as Arthur drew closer.
“Merlin! You’re awake!” He said it with surprise--and worry--lacing the words, as if he’d expected a still sleeping Merlin when he arrived. Merlin wondered what he was doing here then, if that were the case. Surely the prince wasn’t tending to him.
“Yes,” Merlin replied, then winced at the raw sound of his own voice. How long have I been asleep?
Arthur pulled a small stool close to Merlin’s bed and lowered himself onto it. He studied Merlin for a long moment, blue eyes troubled. The dark smudges under those eyes told Merlin that Arthur hadn’t slept much lately either, and he hoped the creature, whatever it was, hadn’t been terrorizing the people of Camelot for many days.
Shifting under Arthur’s serious gaze, Merlin opened his mouth to ask the many questions clambering around in his mind, but recoiled when Arthur smacked him on the shoulder. “Ow!” he burst out, glaring at his stupid, brutish prince.
“You nearly died!” Arthur shouted back, eyes narrowing as he leaned down to scowl at Merlin.
“And that’s a reason to hit me? Prat!” Arthur continued to stare at him mulishly, and Merlin prepared to yell back until he noticed the hard set of Arthur’s shoulders and the way he was clenching his jaw. “You were scared for me!” he said, awestruck.
“I was not!” Arthur snapped and straightened up, crossing his arms defensively. “I was worried about Gaius.”
“Gaius?”
“Yes. He’s an old man. It might destroy him if you die.”
“Right. You were worried about Gaius being upset.”
“That is what I said.”
“Hm. Lucky thing I’m all right, and there’s no need to worry anymore.”
Arthur huffed, working his jaw. Merlin rolled his eyes. He was used to Arthur’s stubborn refusal to acknowledge any kind of weakness or fondness for anyone. Just once, he’d like--but, no, that would never happen.
“Is Gaius here?” he asked, rubbing at his chest again. Whatever that hairy beast had been, it’d seemingly taken out a rather large chunk of his skin. It itched and pulled every time he moved.
“He’s downstairs. Why? Do you hurt? Can you breathe all right? Gaius said you’d be all right once you awoke. He promised me!” He punctuated the last with a fist to the wall. It didn’t leave a mark but made Merlin jump.
Merlin gaped at this transformation of Arthur from carefully detached to fiery with rage. He’d never had such emotion directed at him or for him, not from Arthur.
Lifting a hand, Merlin took hold of Arthur’s shirt. It was one of the soft, thin ones he wore for sleeping, Merlin saw for the first time, and he was barefoot, hair disheveled. Had he come straight from his chambers to Merlin’s small room, with no care to how he looked to the rest of the castle?
“Arthur. Arthur!”
Arthur finally glanced up at Merlin’s raised voice, his breathing so harsh and loud that Merlin wondered how Arthur was getting any air in at all. “I’m fine. I’m just hungry and thirsty,” he lied. He could tell Gaius about the pain later. Right now he needed to calm Arthur down. “I’m fine, I swear.”
Arthur nodded and seemed to deflate, all the anger draining out of him and leaving him slumped on the stool.
“There was--there was so much blood,” Arthur said quietly, brushing an impatient hand across his eyes. Merlin had to strain to hear him. “Everyone was shouting and running everywhere after the creature. Leon knocked me out its path and handed my sword back to me, but all I saw was the blood. Your shirt was soaked red with it, Merlin, so much you couldn’t see the blue of the fabric anymore. It scared me.”
Merlin’s breath hitched with Arthur’s, eyes stinging with tears. “Arthur,” he murmured gently, but Arthur didn’t react, too caught up in the memory he was reliving.
“I should’ve--it should’ve been me killing the creature, but I was on my knees in the dirt beside you, trying to stop the blood. All that blood. I don’t even know who finally landed the killing blow. We got you back here as quickly as possible. You were so still and pale, and Gaius wouldn’t let me in the room while he worked on you. Someone dragged me back to my chambers. I think it was Leon. It’s been four days. Gaius promised you’d wake, but I--”
He stopped abruptly, hanging his head, and despite the aching twinge in his chest, Merlin slipped out of bed and knelt on the floor in front of Arthur. Cupping one beard-rough cheek, Merlin wiped away Arthur’s tears, touch soft. Arthur made a strangled noise but remained absolutely still, even now not willing to shed the controlled prince and let go.
“I’m all right,” he whispered against Arthur’s mouth, not quite a kiss but closer than he ever dared hope he’d get. “Arthur, I’m all right. Can’t you feel that?”
Arthur shuddered, then suddenly wrapped his arms tight around Merlin, face tucked into the curve of Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin bit back a cry of pain as his wound twinged, but nothing else mattered, because Arthur was holding him and repeating his name in a tender way he’d never heard Arthur--or anyone--say before.
They stayed like that for an eternity that didn’t last nearly long enough. Merlin pulled away and kissed Arthur’s cheek, smiling softly. Arthur still looked troubled, the echo of his memory creating shadows in his eyes, and there was no way he could stand for that.
“Next time, kill the creature before it attacks me, you dollophead,” he said and was pleased when it startled a laugh out of Arthur.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he answered dryly, one side of his mouth curling into a reluctant smile. “Merlin,” he said, quieter and with that soft edge to it that caused Merlin’s heart to beat faster. “Don’t ever do that to me again. If I lost you…”
“I won’t,” he promised, and this time Arthur kissed him, a proper kiss that made everything else fade away.