Unsuitable, Part Two: Ardently II

[burntotears]

Chapter Index: Unsuitable Master Post
A/N: Read Part I

Arthur ran a hand through his hair as he waited outside the door. He felt like a prat, but he wasn't entirely sure why that was. Was it weird for him to be checking up on his manservant? But Merlin wasn't just his servant anymore-they were friends. Maybe not in the traditional sense because of Arthur's royalty, but in all the ways that really mattered, they were mates and that meant something to him because he'd never had a friend before. Not a real one, anyway. Any bloke who had claimed to be his friend was either trying to become a knight or trying to gain court standing. Merlin didn't want anything from him. He was just Merlin.

The door opened in front of him and he was faced with Gaius, the court physician. Arthur nodded to the older man who bowed his head in turn to Arthur. "How is he doing?" Arthur asked as he stepped through the door that Gaius held open for him.

"You may ask him yourself, sire, if you'd like." Gaius nodded toward the open door to Merlin's room and Arthur saw that Merlin was sitting up and eating. "If you'd excuse me, sire, I need to take these to Lady Gregory who has been complaining of a terrible earache." Arthur nodded his approval and Gaius picked up his bag and left the two of them alone in the house.

Arthur nodded at Merlin as he walked toward his room. "Conscious today, I see." He stopped and leaned against the doorframe of Merlin's bedroom.

"Yeah well I decided that driving myself to illness was the only way to get time off from shining your boots." Merlin offered him a small smirk, which Arthur took as a good sign.

Arthur gestured to the floor of Merlin's room. "It looks like I need to give you more time off to clean your own bloody room. This is downright despicable, Merlin, even for you. If you didn't clean up after me I'd be afraid you didn't know how to do it at all. Does Gaius really allow this without comment?" Arthur really didn't care one way or another, but he felt he owned Merlin this much considering it might have been his fault that Merlin had broken down last night.

"Well I keep the door closed usually so he doesn't see it."

Arthur nodded. "How are you feeling?"

Merlin shrugged in response. "I have a headache but otherwise I suppose I'll live to polish another day."

"Well consider today an extensive holiday because come tomorrow, you've got work to be doing. My meals do not provide themselves. And as it turns out, the cooks have had me banned from the kitchens since I was seven. I was apparently a menace. When I went down there, the head cook tried to beat me with a spoon."

Merlin laughed. "Serves you right, sire."

"Y'know, I should have you publically whipped for your cheek, Merlin," Arthur replied, but he failed to keep the smile from his lips. "And I'll have you know that I have been nothing but-"

"If you're about to say 'nothing but kind to me' I think I should remind you that the day I first met you, you picked a fight with me. Twice!"

"Oh I think I remember that quite differently. I think I remember you trying to be a hero and almost getting your head chopped off by my sword."

"And you put me in the stocks!" Merlin said apparently ignoring what Arthur was saying.

"Yes well you deserved it. Only you would come to Camelot and not know what the royal party looked like. You're such an idiot," Arthur laughed and despite his protest, so did Merlin.

Their laughter died out and Arthur began to feel uncomfortable. He was running out of small talk and that left him with either trying to apologise or leaving. The latter option was looking very promising at the moment.

"Look, Arthur, what you saw-"

Apparently he wasn't going to get a choice in the matter. Sighing, he sat down on Merlin's bed, putting up a hand to stop him from speaking. Arthur leaned forward, resting a forearm on either of his thighs, looking at Merlin's wall rather than the man himself. "No, Merlin, it was my fault. I shouldn't have pushed you about Balinor. You haven't lived the life I have and you don't know what it's like to have others sacrifice themselves so that you may live to see another day. I've seen it more than I can count and I will see more of it before I do eventually die.

"I'm sorry to have made light of the matter. I still remember the first man who laid down his life for me and I will never forget him for as long as I live. He was an older man, Bennet, one of my father's most trusted knights. He fought by my father's side for so many years-he was practically an uncle to me.

"There was one day, when I was ten years old, that I went out for my riding lessons and Bennet was the knight who rode with my teacher and me. I was on the horse, alone, my teacher standing beside me on the ground. He was telling me something-I can hardly remember what now-and a bandit came riding toward me. His shouting stirred the horse and it started to run away from the clearing…" Arthur dropped his head between his knees and rubbed his fingers loosely through his hair. He hadn't thought about Bennet in years, but something about Merlin always brought things out in Arthur he never even spoke to anyone about; sometimes things he didn't even want to acknowledge to himself.

No matter how close Bennet may have been to his father, Uther did not even seemed phased by the man's death after it happened. Arthur had nightmares about it for weeks and his father was back to cards and jokes the next day. Arthur swore to himself, a mere ten years old, that he would never let his knights go unremembered; anyone who fought under the banner of Camelot was as royal as he himself was. They would die a king's death so long as Arthur was there to see to it.

"Bennet saw the man and was able to intercept him before he reached my horse. They fought only briefly, but the bandit managed to stab him beneath his armour before Bennet could kill him. Bennet was dead before we could get back to the castle grounds."

"I'm sorry, Arthur," he heard Merlin say. Arthur looked over at him then and a strange feeling set itself in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't the feeling he had had the night previous, worrying that Merlin might be in danger, but a softer feeling-almost like a flutter. It reminded him of the time-"Well I've got to go, Merlin. Patrols and the like; you know how it is." He stood up quickly, giving the dark haired man a nod. "Get better. I'll see you in the morning, yeah?"

Merlin's brow furrowed at Arthur's strange behavior but he didn't question it, for which Arthur was glad. "Yeah. Thanks Arthur. For coming to get me, I mean."

Arthur was already walking out of the bedroom when Merlin spoke. He stopped and a wave of affection swept over him that he had only felt once before. He turned and smiled at Merlin. "You'd have done the same for me, right?"

-------

Arthur believed that he was coming down with something very serious. It was an ailment of the brain, in which he would get the same strange feelings in his gut that he had gotten when he was with Guinevere, but with Merlin now. This was obviously something that was detrimental to his very judgment which had usually been quite sound before this.

He could not-and didn't, really-deny the worry he had felt when Guinevere came to him that night with the story of Merlin's distress. Arthur was just beginning to consider this bloke as a true companion and now he was going to decide to go barmy? Not on Arthur's watch, damnit. Arthur could count the number of friends he had on one hand and he sure as hell was not going to watch Merlin act the loon and not do a thing to stop it. And ok, Merlin wasn't just looking for attention; he very obviously was depressed about this Balinor thing, but why? Or was there something else that was clouding his mind?

Arthur tried to think back to that night and what they had both said. Maybe he had gotten it wrong. When Arthur had spoken to him about Balinor he really had seemed truly grateful for Arthur's advice. So what had sent the man into such raving agony? It had to be something serious, because Merlin very rarely let his emotions affect his work for Arthur. He had turned around many a time to see Merlin let his shoulders slack and face twist into something unpleasant when he thought Arthur didn't see him. But as soon as Arthur acknowledged him again, Merlin was happy to serve. So what hurt him so now?

Arthur made sure to pay close attention to Merlin every time they were together now, in attempts to uncover the sadness that had settled over the dark-haired man's soul. But Merlin was not giving anything away; after they talked in his bedroom, Merlin acted as if nothing had ever happened. But Arthur could see the difference, subtle as it was. The first change Arthur picked up on was in Merlin's surly retorts. Oh they still existed, yes, but lately when Arthur gave him an order, most of the time Merlin either just did it or would say 'yes sire' begrudgingly and still do it without any further protest. No 'If your feet didn't smell like cow dung we wouldn't need to wash them ten times a day' or 'Arthur, how does one man change his trousers three times a day? If you still have trouble with soiling yourself, you need to have a talk with your father.' This quality in Merlin-who treated him like a human being and not a royal pompous ass-is what made Arthur grow to like him so much. When he was with Merlin, he felt like Arthur, not the prince or the knight-just plain Arthur. Besides Guinevere, Merlin was the only person who treated him that way. And even she did not treat him so until she saw that Merlin did. Merlin had never been fazed by Arthur's lineage; he only concerned himself with Arthur's character, something Arthur sculpted for himself.

And now that Merlin was no longer moping about, Arthur was the only one who could tell he still had something bothering him. So Arthur spent almost all his free time with Merlin by his side, making some excuse or another as to why Merlin had to help him, so that he could watch the bloke and try to piece together what made Merlin lose control of himself like he had. At least that's what he kept telling himself his reasoning was. Truthfully, he kept feeling this strange impulse to be near Merlin, to talk to him and take the piss and laugh with him about it after. And no matter how hard he tried to deny it, that same feeling he had had when he was with Guinevere was manifesting itself in the shape of Merlin. Merlin! He was a chap! What was wrong with Arthur's mind-and his body!-that he would feel swoony for Merlin?

No, that couldn't be the same feeling. Arthur hadn't ever had romantic feelings toward anyone before Guinevere and he knew that this could not be what he was feeling now. It had to be some sort of brotherly affection that was taking him by surprise. Arthur never grew up with any blokes his own age so he didn't know what it was like to have a brother, much less a best mate. He could admit that yes, he felt an affection for Merlin, but it was a regular affection that any bloke would have for a good friend who had proven to be more than willing to lay down his own life to save his friend's. Certainly this was just how Merlin felt toward him and that's why they got along as well as they did.
He needed to keep his focus on getting Merlin to share whatever troubles he was trying to bury within himself. Arthur was there to be Merlin's friend and he wouldn't let some random stomach fluttering distract him from his mission.

Unbeknownst to Arthur, in his current escapade into Merlin's emotions, he had let his thoughts of Merlin's possibly having magic fall to the wayside. Those thoughts hadn't crossed Arthur's mind since the night Merlin broke down in the corridor because he'd been so preoccupied with sorting out his own feelings for his friend.

-------

"Merlin, do you know how long I have to wait to get dinner in this god-forsaken palace?" Arthur lounged comfortably in his chair, feet resting on the table as he watched Merlin prepare his rooms for the night. He had been torturing Merlin mercilessly all day, but Merlin always found the amusement in Arthur's comments.

"Well I think that depends on how many menial chores the person who is supposed to fetch your dinner is given, sire." Merlin was putting away Arthur's wash in the wardrobe.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying I give you too much to do?"

Arthur then received Merlin's well known 'you know how much a prat you are' glare. "Not at all, sire. Not-at-all."

"Well while you are down there, you might as well ask for an extra plate for yourself since it looks like you'll be working well into the night to finish these chores you should have had done by this morning." Arthur couldn't very well ask the bloke to stay and have dinner with him and he certainly wasn't going to tell Merlin that he actually liked having him around. He watched as Merlin gave him a suspicious glare. Arthur did not think he deserved such looks. He wasn't a total ass, after all.

It took forever, but Merlin finally came back with his meal. Merlin sat down the extra plate and made his way across the room to finish with Arthur's wash.

"When you finish come sit down and eat. That will count as your break for the night. Can't say I overwork you now, can you?" Arthur pointed his fork at Merlin, which had gravy dripping from it. Most of it landed on the table. Arthur nodded at the mess and said, "You'll have to clean that up too." He tried to hide his smirk by looking at his plate, but Merlin knew him too well to miss it.

When Merlin sat down across from Arthur, he said, "Do you need me to stand next to you and serve as your napkin, sire? Or perhaps you need a bib to keep from dribbling gravy on your tunic."

With his mouth full, Arthur said, "I think a little gravy dribble is the least of your problems considering the current state the stable is in. Have you even brushed my horse in the last month?"

"Yes, Arthur. I remember it very clearly because I had to use that same horse brush to wash your back hair from the bathing tub." Arthur was watching Merlin's face while he spoke and saw that Merlin could barely keep his composure before he burst out a laugh.
Arthur's mouth fell open in mock disgust. "You have gone too far now, servant! I have never had a hair sprout from my back in my life!" Arthur feigned hurt to his sensitive princely pride.

"I bet if I kept a collection I could get the seamstresses to weave you a winter coat from your own body's making, sire. It would be one of a kind, y'know."

Arthur could not think of any good retort and this attack on his pristinely hair-free back could not go unpunished. The only thing he could think to do was throw something at Merlin so he picked up a piece of shaved beef from his plate, covered in gravy, of course, and tossed it directly into Merlin's face.

Arthur watched as Merlin froze, stunned by the sudden splash of liquidly meat in his face. The beef fell from Merlin's face and hit his plate with a loud plop. Merlin had one eye clammed shut because it was surrounded with brown, dripping gravy. "Sire," Merlin spoke slowly, calmly as he set down his fork on his plate, gravy still dripping from his face onto his tunic, "that happens to be my favorite eye you just blinded."

Arthur scoffed at him, taking a bite from his remaining slice of beef. "Please Merlin, don't be so dramatic. If you go home telling people you were blinded by gravy you'll have a terrible time living it down. Take some tips from me and be a man." Arthur did not say the last three words with an underlying meaning that Merlin was kind of a sissy. But it was true.

Merlin continued to remain calm as he lifted his napkin and wiped the gravy from his face and chin. When he had finished, he addressed Arthur again. "Well, Prince Arthur, since you want to behave like a child, I guess you won't be getting any dessert tonight."
Arthur perked up. "Dessert? What dessert? I didn't see you bring in any dessert!" Arthur watched as Merlin produced a plate with a piece of chocolate cake from beneath the table. "Where the bloody hell were you hiding that?"

Merlin smirked and sat the plate down in front of him on the table. "If I reveal the secret then it ruins the whole trick, now doesn't it?"

Arthur sat back in his chair and pretended to be disinterested. He did wonder just where Merlin had been hiding that cake though. It looked as if he pulled it out of thin air! "I don't think I want any cake you've had stuffed down your trousers anyhow, Merlin. I doubt it would improve upon the flavor." He really did want that cake though.

Merlin stuck his fork into the cake and took an excessively large bite to tease the prince. "I wouldn't eat it if it were stuffed down my trousers either," he said as he chewed.

Arthur frowned. "I know very well that the cooks didn't make that cake for you. If you don't hand it over I'm going to have to have you arrested."

Merlin stared at Arthur for a few moments and then sighed, "Oh alright, you can have the stupid cake, you whiny prat." Merlin picked up the plate and leaned over the table so he could set it near Arthur. At least that's what Arthur thought he was doing, but the moment he set the plate down he picked up the cake and Arthur had only a split second to process that he'd been had before his face was being smothered with cake-gloriously wasted cake.

"Alright Merlin," spoke Arthur, sending bits of cake flying from his face and landing on the table and on both of their plates. "I call a truce. But there will be recompense for wasting so much delicious cake." Arthur stroked a finger over his cheek and licked it off as if that proved his point. Arthur considered dropping the contents of his plate into the back of Merlin's tunic, but decided he did not want to have to deal with a bigger mess in his chambers than they'd already made.

Arthur filled the washing basin and handed the empty jug to Merlin to refill. By the time Merlin had returned with more water Arthur's face was cake free and he was pulling his tunic over his head so he didn't get cake bits in his bed. "They're going to hate you for that, y'know." He gestured to his soiled tunic he'd thrown on the floor.

Merlin smirked at him. "I know, but if they just knew how satisfying it was, I don't think they'd mind nearly as much."

"Let's hope so for your sake. I may have spoons after me but I don't think you'd survive a blow to the head from a washing board." Arthur laughed at the thought of it though.

"I'm happy the thought of maiming me amuses you." Merlin was clearing the table as he retorted.

Arthur walked over to his bed and flopped down on his back with a sigh. "Of course. In fact, I have trouble remembering just how I did without the likes of your amusement before, Merlin."

"Oh I know the answer to that, sire," Merlin said and Arthur could hear his voice colouring with such glee that he knew Merlin would have him cornered with this one. "You spent your time being an arrogant, condescending, overbearing-"

"-Well now you're just repeating yourself-"

"-rude, inconsiderate, demeaning-"

"-Really, Merlin, this list has to end sometime-"

"-scheming, underhanded, despicable-"

"-Oh come on! -"

"-ass. And a prat sometimes too. Come to think of it, sire, I'm not sure what your redeemable features are."

"You should consider them to be me not having you flogged for addressing me the way you do." Arthur cradled the back of his head with his hands.

"If I don't then who will?" Merlin looked at Arthur pointedly and Arthur gave him a rude gesture in return.

"Merlin, would you stop rattling things about? You're giving me a headache."

"What would you have me do then?" Merlin sounded annoyed, as though he should be unhappy that Arthur had ordered him to stop working. He had some nerve, Merlin.

"Sit down or something. I don't bloody care. Allow me to relax for at least a moment."

Merlin shrugged and dropped the empty plates noisily on the table. He received a very aggravated look from Arthur in return. Arthur closed his eyes and lay still, enjoying the peace for as long as it would last. Apparently that was not very long nowadays. As soon as he thought he might drift to sleep he heard a swishing noise and then flump! "Merlin, what do you think you're doing?" Arthur asked, eyes still closed. After he gained his composure he allowed himself to gaze to the other side of the bed that Merlin was now occupying, posed in the same position as Arthur.

"You said to relax, sire. I'm just following orders."

"Did you just get in my bed with your sodden boots on, Merlin?" Arthur asked with such composure it was probably frightening.

Merlin's grin was so wide his face might break in half from it. "Yes I did. It really shouldn't matter to you, though, since I'm the one that has to change the sheets, yeah?"
"You are so very lucky, Merlin, that I am entirely too comfortable to grab my sword right now. If I weren't, we wouldn't have to worry about your boots being on the bed because I would have chopped off your ankles for you."

Arthur had returned his stare to the ceiling and eventually he closed his eyes again. He felt Merlin shift next to him. They remained silent for quite some time before Arthur felt entirely uncomfortable, a similar feeling building in his chest that he'd noticed in Merlin's bedroom.

"Merlin, when I open my eyes if you are staring at me I cannot be held responsible for the ways in which I am going to murder you."

Arthur opened one eye and peeked over. Sure enough, Merlin was lying on his side, propping up his head with his hand, staring at Arthur like some sort of buffoon.

"I think you like me too much to murder me, sire." Merlin's tone was mocking, but Arthur's brain processed the words completely out of context. His mind started racing a metre a second and before he knew what was happening, he had leaned over and pressed his lips against Merlin's.

Continue to Part Three: Tangibly