Convenient- A Merlin fanfic
Title: Convenient (Or the questionable use of sheep)
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur with mentions of some disturbing couplings.
Warnings: Contains mucho crackiness, far too many brackets to be considered healthy, the over use of sheep in various and disturbing ways, the word convenient being taken advantage of and Gaius breaks the fourth wall. IDEK!
Rating: NC-17. Because I don't want this inflicted on impressionable young minds. Really it's for the best.
Disclaimer: Not mine. If it was well...*evil snicker*
AN: Right, I really don't have an excuse for this. It's complete and utter crack and should not be taken seriously. But I have to admit I had far too much fun writing it! Episode 2,06 was just begging to be made fun of. So spoilers for that episode I suppose. Oh! And the *'s indicate a kind of footnote type thingy, you'll find them at the end of the fic. Anyway I hope you enjoy and aren't too scarred by what you're about to read. This is also my first attempt at crack, so if it's bad I apologize!
Summary: Camelot, Merlin thinks, should just be re-named Convenient-alot.
The plan was set. It was concrete. Foolproof…well sort of.
Merlin and Gaius had just left the Prince for ‘dead’ in his chambers and the physician was about to hurry off to find the King when he imparted on Merlin some very important information pertaining to the antidote in Merlin’s safe keeping. Which he conveniently forgot to mention in Arthur’s presence.
“I have to WHAT?!” The warlock demanded.
“Keep your voice down, Merlin!” Gaius hissed. “The castle guards may be horribly incompetent, but that doesn’t mean they’re deaf as well!”
Merlin rolled his eyes and thought for a moment about what Gaius said. The guards really were quite useless. He and Gaius had come and gone from the ex (but not really because a fucking troll can so not be heir to the Throne*) Crown Prince’s rooms (drugged him but that’s hardly worth mentioning to ANYone) and not once were they seen. Merlin was fairly certain he could, strip, run around nude and publicly fornicate with a sheep and the guards wouldn’t so much as bat an eyelash. (Not that he would ever do that with a sheep. A man in Ealdor tried that before and it got STUCK. But, alas, that is another story**) The general hopelessness of the guards was rather convenient, really.
“Sorry, Gaius, but seriously? Please tell me you are joking.” He pleaded as he and his elderly friend hid behind an empty coat rack as two cross-eyed guards swept pass them trying to look important and alert. (They, conveniently failed, miserably)
“Of course I am not jesting, Merlin.” Gaius said severely, his eyebrows doing that very scary thing where they could convince you to do anything. Merlin secretly thought they were magical eyebrows of some sort. How else could you explain him drinking those foul Troll concoctions and doing magic in front to the sodding King? They were Magical Eyebrows of Manipulation, that’s how.
Pulling himself out of his ridiculous thoughts Merlin listened to Gaius’s insane, yet apparently perfectly logically, explanation of how the antidote must be administered. “For the potion to be successful it must first touch the lips of a magic user. It cannot work without that, Merlin. It is the only way.”
“What kind of moronic idiot came up with that?” Merlin asked. “It’s got to be the most preposterous cure I have ever heard of!”
The Magical Eyebrows of Manipulation (henceforth to be known as The MEM) came out in full force and Merlin couldn’t help but be quiet.
“And the tears of our King is not an outrageous cure for the Troll spell? Honestly, Merlin, the things that magic comes up with.*** If it had not come from the Dragon himself, I never would have believed you. Though, come to think of it, the creature has been down there for some time…”****
Merlin sighed. “Fine, fine, so I can just swish the potion in my mouth, spit it back into the jar and give it to Arthur, right? Please tell it’s as easy as that.” (Disgusting, but easy.)
Gaius shook his head. “Of course it is not going to be that simple, Merlin. The potion must only touch your lips and then be transferred to Arthur’s mouth.”
Merlin gaped. “But…but that means…” He trailed off too mortified to speak.
Gaius appeared grave. “Yes, Merlin. You must kiss the Prince. It is the only way.”
“No there isn’t! There is ALWAYS two ways to go about it.”
“Well, yes, but I’ve chosen the lesser of two evils.”
“Just tell me the other option, Gaius.”
“Well…it would involve bringing in a sheep from the out lying fields and-”
“If you tell me that the only other way to wake Arthur is to have a sheep snog him I will blow up this whole damn castle.” (Seriously! What was it with magic and sheep anyway? He would have to ask the Great Dragon sometime.*****)
“Very well, I won’t tell you then. You are the one who must kiss the Prince.”
“But…I can’t. The King will be right there! I won’t be able to snog Arthur! I might as well jump up and down, turn myself orange and make a rainbow come out Uther’s arse! He’ll have me killed either way!”
“You shouldn’t worry so.” Gaius reassured him. “I’m sure you will find a convenient yet completely unrealistic Plot device to help you.”
“A…what the holy hell is a plot device?”
“No one is really sure. They are something a kin to magic. Can be used for good or evil. Or just a really clever way out of an impossible situation. The Plot is Life, Merlin and must be obeyed.”
“What?” He asked even more confused.
“Like that peephole you used to spy into the Troll’s room or the fact that no one in the castle checks around the corners you continually skulk around. Convenient yet totally unrealistic Plot device.”
“Why do you keep saying the word plot like you’re capitalizing it?”
Gaius sighed, long and with an edge of suffering to it, before he commanded the MEM to move enthusiastically above his eyes. “Enough of this inane chatter, Merlin. The Plot is the Plot and you must speak of it such tones that I do. It is the Plot after all.”
“Right, of course. How silly of me.” Merlin muttered.
“Indeed.” Gaius said. “Well, I’ll be off to inform our King of his son’s death. Convenient, really that I can make such a potion and even more so it’s truly fantastical cure.”
“Fantastic? I have to kiss Arthur!”
“Like I said, convenient, isn’t it?” Gaius asked with a disturbing wink before departing down an opposite corridor.
Really. Merlin thought, why does he even bother anymore?
A few minutes later and for some reason he could not fathom, Merlin had not returned to Arthur’s chambers. If he had any sense, he thought to himself, he would go back there seeing as he had the miracle cure. And now that he really analysed the situation (HA ANALysed he thought with a giggle) why didn’t Gaius just keep the antidote with him? He was the bloody physician. Then Merlin remembered how the potion had to be administered and had the disturbing mental image of Gaius snogging Arthur.
He shivered. It was worse than picturing the bloke from Ealdor and his sheep.
Then at the precise moment the horrifying thought of Gaius, Arthur, the sheep lover AND the sheep leaped into his mind something hard, blue and painful connected with the top of his head, rendering him unconscious and the revolting image of the vomit inducing foursome was knocked from his head and into the next century.
Convenient, that.
*************************************
Jonas looked down from his position at the shattered glass and the unmoving body of the warlock, congratulating himself on a job well done.
There were quite a few of those blue vases sitting around the castle and he just happened to find one at the exact moment Merlin had been under his, not very hidden away, hiding spot. Not to mention the hoard of guards that passed him several times, while he appeared shifty and suspicious, had paid him no attention whatsoever.
His tail twitched and shook at him.
“What was that?” He asked,
His tail repeated the movements.
“Oh yes. It was all rather convenient wasn’t it?”
*************************************
Merlin awoke in a panic.
He dropped the damn cure. He bloody dropped it!
He searched desperately only to find it splattered all over the stairs.
“Bugger.” He cursed. What the hell was he to do now?
Not really thinking about it Merlin ripped off his neckerchief and mopped up the potion, hoping and praying that the cloth would soak it up.
He dashed to Arthur’s room where he found Uther backed up against the wall, looking like he was about to projectile vomit all over the place as the Troll blathered on about letting Uther touch her and how disgusting the entire situation was. Convenient, how the bad guy/woman/beast/sorcerer/whatever always does that kind of thing. (Not bang on about the vileness that is sleeping with the King, which Merlin conceded was rather mentally scarring, but ranted about their plans and such. They ALL did that.)
After a few repulsive looks, from both Uther and the Troll, the King finally called the guards in, for some reason believing they would be of actual help and Merlin seized his opportunity in the forth-coming chaos.
He rushed over to Arthur and fell to his knees, absolutely dreading what was coming. Arthur was going to murder him for this. Painfully, as well. Something that involved swords or daggers. Possibly burning pyres of death.
Steeling himself and taking a deep breath, and saying a silent goodbye to his existence, Merlin brought his neckerchief up to his lips, sucked on it and felt his lips absorb the antidote, before he leaned down and kissed Arthur full on the mouth.
Suddenly everything stopped. Merlin could no longer hear the grunts of the Troll, nor the pained yells of the guards as they got their arses thoroughly kicked. Even the sounds of Uther retching as he finally gave into his nausea faded into the back round at the feel of Arthur’s lips against his own.
A sense of finally and rightness and why the bloody hell haven’t we been doing his all along washed over him and Merlin forgot his terror and anguish and allowed himself to fall into the moment. He had barely noticed when Arthur’s mouth began moving and responding to his kiss and only when Arthur’s fingers threaded in his hair did Merlin pull back with a gasp.
“Troll!” He managed to say.
Arthur looked at him completely confused and justly insulted and said, “I’m not that bad am I?”
“No you prat! The sodding Troll who is currently beating the ever loving shit out of your father!”
Arthur tore his gaze off Merlin’s face (well lips) and over to where, indeed, his father was taking a right pounding from Arthur‘s step-mother.
“Ah of course.” Arthur said as Merlin hauled him to his feet
The ensuing battle was over quickly once Arthur took charge. Even after been flung like a rag doll and smashing into the wall, the Prince still managed to run Jonas through with a conveniently placed sword and Merlin helped with the Troll by tripping it with and equally convenient carpet.
Naturally, the Troll died with some theatrical flatulence.
Really, Merlin thought as he all but ran from Arthur‘s room (The Prince still had a sword in his hand and was looking at Merlin in a way that the young warlock was sure meant You-Are-Going-To-Die-Now). The Plot has a particularly bad sense of humour and seems to enjoy toilet noises far too much for any of this to be taken seriously.
It was much later on in the evening when Arthur managed to track Merlin down. (He hadn’t been hiding so much as cowering in fear and despair, wondering just how Arthur was going to end his life)
“Ah, Merlin!” He called down the corridor. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Merlin turned around, ready to face his death.
“All right, then.” He said miserably. “Let’s have it.”
“What d’you mean?” Arthur asked stopping in front of his manservant.
“You’re here to kill me right? For that kiss?” Arthur opened his mouth to say something but Merlin just carried on in that ridiculously adorable way that he does. “To be fair, Gaius said it was the only way. It was either me or a sheep, really. I know I would rather me. Which is a funny thing to say about myself.” Arthur huffed and tried to speak again but to no avail. “And while we’re talking about funny, I never really thought that snogging the Prince would be my crime. I always thought more on the lines of something huge and epic and saving your life in a highly illegal way using my-”
Suddenly Merlin found he couldn’t talk. It took him a moment to realize that it was because Arthur was kissing him and pushing him up against the wall, which in no way excited the hell out of him.
“Oh.” Merlin said eloquently when Arthur had pulled away and rested his forehead on his.
“Yes, you absolute idiot.” Arthur said panting.
“You’re not going to kill me.” He stated.
“Obviously.” Arthur said dryly. “Rather defeats the purpose of snogging you and telling you that I’d like to take you back to my room and have mind blowingly excellent sex.”
“Quite.” Merlin choked out as Arthur rolled his hips in a decidedly delicious manner.
“Though who says we have to wait until we get to my chambers?” Arthur asked with a glint in his eye and a positively filthy smirk as his hands found their way under Merlin’s tunic and his lips dragged down his neck.
“But…but what…about…Arthur” Merlin groaned as the Prince sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on his collarbone. “What if someone, oh bloody hell do that again, what if someone sees.”
Arthur pulled away and glanced down the hall. Merlin followed his gaze to a massive tapestry hanging on the wall a few feet away.
Merlin grinned as Arthur tugged him behind it just as a guard passed them by.
“Convenient.” He said before pulling Arthur down for another kiss.
*Seriously, Laws were passed about this throughout all of Albion because of the one week a Troll ruled over a Kingdom. I don’t believe you will want to hear the details but let’s just say more sheep were involved. Well, sheep droppings at least. And one incident in which the half the court, eight servants, five dogs, three guards and one rooster all fell to the ground dead after a nasty bout of flatulence but NO one ever talks about that.
** Okay, I’ll tell you about the sheep sheather. There was a man named Horace who lived in Ealdor. Merlin had known him to always have a sheep or two with him. He asked his mother about it one day and Hunith had told him that Horace found a lamb in the forest while chopping wood (and NO that is not meant to be a sexual innuendo, you filthy perverts!) and brought it home with him. A few months later, there was another new lamb following Horace around but no one paid much attention to it. At the time, Horace had lived with five sheep and people started to become faintly suspicious and revolted since all the animals were female. A few days after his mother’s explanation Merlin heard a racket come from Horace’s barn. Most of the village had found Horace in the structure…inappropriately connected to his beloved first sheep. Turns out the creature was magic and for some reason produced female off spring when fucked by a human male. It took two hours, all the oil everyone owned, and the sheep’s well time bowel movement to remove poor Horace from his coveted lover.)
*** I believe that Giaus really does have a point here. For instance, this one time Arthur was ensorcelled by a tree he had attempted to chop down. (Which turned out to a severely pissed off Wood Nymph, who in retaliation threw a blinding ball of green light at the Prince and vanished spitting curses upon Arthur’s future off spring.) At first it seemed like nothing was going to happen. Then three days later Arthur had crashed into Merlin’s room, yelling that his nuts had fallen off. It turned out just to be a couple of chestnuts, which told Merlin that Arthur might just be transforming into a tree. It had taken five days to find a cure and during that time three robins had tried to nest in Arthur’s hair (which had taken on a green sheen), all the hunting dogs were clamouring to lift their legs on him to mark their sent and several attacks of various woodland rodents all hell bent on stealing Arthur’s nuts. (Er…chestnuts that is). In the end, Arthur had grown roots and was permanently attached to his bedroom floor. The cure, which had taken the combined efforts of Giaus, Merlin, two dozen herbs, dragon spit (don’t even ASK how Merlin managed to get that!), a sheep’s tail (yes, ANOTHER sheep) and a very reluctant rooster (no one is still quite sure how that helped), to lift the curse and return Arthur to his prat like self.
**** 20 years or so to be exact. Plenty of time for a magical creature such as the Great Dragon to lose his marbles and become so bored he decides to try his hand (er, claw) at matchmaking two of the most highly revered legendary figures in history. He continues to deny this accusation but when you tell a hormonally charged warlock that he is one side of the same coin and some pratly (equally horny) Prince is the other side…well, top/bottom thoughts are bound to come up and before you know it….
***** He did ask eventually and trust me, you do NOT want to know.
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur with mentions of some disturbing couplings.
Warnings: Contains mucho crackiness, far too many brackets to be considered healthy, the over use of sheep in various and disturbing ways, the word convenient being taken advantage of and Gaius breaks the fourth wall. IDEK!
Rating: NC-17. Because I don't want this inflicted on impressionable young minds. Really it's for the best.
Disclaimer: Not mine. If it was well...*evil snicker*
AN: Right, I really don't have an excuse for this. It's complete and utter crack and should not be taken seriously. But I have to admit I had far too much fun writing it! Episode 2,06 was just begging to be made fun of. So spoilers for that episode I suppose. Oh! And the *'s indicate a kind of footnote type thingy, you'll find them at the end of the fic. Anyway I hope you enjoy and aren't too scarred by what you're about to read. This is also my first attempt at crack, so if it's bad I apologize!
Summary: Camelot, Merlin thinks, should just be re-named Convenient-alot.
The plan was set. It was concrete. Foolproof…well sort of.
Merlin and Gaius had just left the Prince for ‘dead’ in his chambers and the physician was about to hurry off to find the King when he imparted on Merlin some very important information pertaining to the antidote in Merlin’s safe keeping. Which he conveniently forgot to mention in Arthur’s presence.
“I have to WHAT?!” The warlock demanded.
“Keep your voice down, Merlin!” Gaius hissed. “The castle guards may be horribly incompetent, but that doesn’t mean they’re deaf as well!”
Merlin rolled his eyes and thought for a moment about what Gaius said. The guards really were quite useless. He and Gaius had come and gone from the ex (but not really because a fucking troll can so not be heir to the Throne*) Crown Prince’s rooms (drugged him but that’s hardly worth mentioning to ANYone) and not once were they seen. Merlin was fairly certain he could, strip, run around nude and publicly fornicate with a sheep and the guards wouldn’t so much as bat an eyelash. (Not that he would ever do that with a sheep. A man in Ealdor tried that before and it got STUCK. But, alas, that is another story**) The general hopelessness of the guards was rather convenient, really.
“Sorry, Gaius, but seriously? Please tell me you are joking.” He pleaded as he and his elderly friend hid behind an empty coat rack as two cross-eyed guards swept pass them trying to look important and alert. (They, conveniently failed, miserably)
“Of course I am not jesting, Merlin.” Gaius said severely, his eyebrows doing that very scary thing where they could convince you to do anything. Merlin secretly thought they were magical eyebrows of some sort. How else could you explain him drinking those foul Troll concoctions and doing magic in front to the sodding King? They were Magical Eyebrows of Manipulation, that’s how.
Pulling himself out of his ridiculous thoughts Merlin listened to Gaius’s insane, yet apparently perfectly logically, explanation of how the antidote must be administered. “For the potion to be successful it must first touch the lips of a magic user. It cannot work without that, Merlin. It is the only way.”
“What kind of moronic idiot came up with that?” Merlin asked. “It’s got to be the most preposterous cure I have ever heard of!”
The Magical Eyebrows of Manipulation (henceforth to be known as The MEM) came out in full force and Merlin couldn’t help but be quiet.
“And the tears of our King is not an outrageous cure for the Troll spell? Honestly, Merlin, the things that magic comes up with.*** If it had not come from the Dragon himself, I never would have believed you. Though, come to think of it, the creature has been down there for some time…”****
Merlin sighed. “Fine, fine, so I can just swish the potion in my mouth, spit it back into the jar and give it to Arthur, right? Please tell it’s as easy as that.” (Disgusting, but easy.)
Gaius shook his head. “Of course it is not going to be that simple, Merlin. The potion must only touch your lips and then be transferred to Arthur’s mouth.”
Merlin gaped. “But…but that means…” He trailed off too mortified to speak.
Gaius appeared grave. “Yes, Merlin. You must kiss the Prince. It is the only way.”
“No there isn’t! There is ALWAYS two ways to go about it.”
“Well, yes, but I’ve chosen the lesser of two evils.”
“Just tell me the other option, Gaius.”
“Well…it would involve bringing in a sheep from the out lying fields and-”
“If you tell me that the only other way to wake Arthur is to have a sheep snog him I will blow up this whole damn castle.” (Seriously! What was it with magic and sheep anyway? He would have to ask the Great Dragon sometime.*****)
“Very well, I won’t tell you then. You are the one who must kiss the Prince.”
“But…I can’t. The King will be right there! I won’t be able to snog Arthur! I might as well jump up and down, turn myself orange and make a rainbow come out Uther’s arse! He’ll have me killed either way!”
“You shouldn’t worry so.” Gaius reassured him. “I’m sure you will find a convenient yet completely unrealistic Plot device to help you.”
“A…what the holy hell is a plot device?”
“No one is really sure. They are something a kin to magic. Can be used for good or evil. Or just a really clever way out of an impossible situation. The Plot is Life, Merlin and must be obeyed.”
“What?” He asked even more confused.
“Like that peephole you used to spy into the Troll’s room or the fact that no one in the castle checks around the corners you continually skulk around. Convenient yet totally unrealistic Plot device.”
“Why do you keep saying the word plot like you’re capitalizing it?”
Gaius sighed, long and with an edge of suffering to it, before he commanded the MEM to move enthusiastically above his eyes. “Enough of this inane chatter, Merlin. The Plot is the Plot and you must speak of it such tones that I do. It is the Plot after all.”
“Right, of course. How silly of me.” Merlin muttered.
“Indeed.” Gaius said. “Well, I’ll be off to inform our King of his son’s death. Convenient, really that I can make such a potion and even more so it’s truly fantastical cure.”
“Fantastic? I have to kiss Arthur!”
“Like I said, convenient, isn’t it?” Gaius asked with a disturbing wink before departing down an opposite corridor.
Really. Merlin thought, why does he even bother anymore?
A few minutes later and for some reason he could not fathom, Merlin had not returned to Arthur’s chambers. If he had any sense, he thought to himself, he would go back there seeing as he had the miracle cure. And now that he really analysed the situation (HA ANALysed he thought with a giggle) why didn’t Gaius just keep the antidote with him? He was the bloody physician. Then Merlin remembered how the potion had to be administered and had the disturbing mental image of Gaius snogging Arthur.
He shivered. It was worse than picturing the bloke from Ealdor and his sheep.
Then at the precise moment the horrifying thought of Gaius, Arthur, the sheep lover AND the sheep leaped into his mind something hard, blue and painful connected with the top of his head, rendering him unconscious and the revolting image of the vomit inducing foursome was knocked from his head and into the next century.
Convenient, that.
*************************************
Jonas looked down from his position at the shattered glass and the unmoving body of the warlock, congratulating himself on a job well done.
There were quite a few of those blue vases sitting around the castle and he just happened to find one at the exact moment Merlin had been under his, not very hidden away, hiding spot. Not to mention the hoard of guards that passed him several times, while he appeared shifty and suspicious, had paid him no attention whatsoever.
His tail twitched and shook at him.
“What was that?” He asked,
His tail repeated the movements.
“Oh yes. It was all rather convenient wasn’t it?”
*************************************
Merlin awoke in a panic.
He dropped the damn cure. He bloody dropped it!
He searched desperately only to find it splattered all over the stairs.
“Bugger.” He cursed. What the hell was he to do now?
Not really thinking about it Merlin ripped off his neckerchief and mopped up the potion, hoping and praying that the cloth would soak it up.
He dashed to Arthur’s room where he found Uther backed up against the wall, looking like he was about to projectile vomit all over the place as the Troll blathered on about letting Uther touch her and how disgusting the entire situation was. Convenient, how the bad guy/woman/beast/sorcerer/whatever always does that kind of thing. (Not bang on about the vileness that is sleeping with the King, which Merlin conceded was rather mentally scarring, but ranted about their plans and such. They ALL did that.)
After a few repulsive looks, from both Uther and the Troll, the King finally called the guards in, for some reason believing they would be of actual help and Merlin seized his opportunity in the forth-coming chaos.
He rushed over to Arthur and fell to his knees, absolutely dreading what was coming. Arthur was going to murder him for this. Painfully, as well. Something that involved swords or daggers. Possibly burning pyres of death.
Steeling himself and taking a deep breath, and saying a silent goodbye to his existence, Merlin brought his neckerchief up to his lips, sucked on it and felt his lips absorb the antidote, before he leaned down and kissed Arthur full on the mouth.
Suddenly everything stopped. Merlin could no longer hear the grunts of the Troll, nor the pained yells of the guards as they got their arses thoroughly kicked. Even the sounds of Uther retching as he finally gave into his nausea faded into the back round at the feel of Arthur’s lips against his own.
A sense of finally and rightness and why the bloody hell haven’t we been doing his all along washed over him and Merlin forgot his terror and anguish and allowed himself to fall into the moment. He had barely noticed when Arthur’s mouth began moving and responding to his kiss and only when Arthur’s fingers threaded in his hair did Merlin pull back with a gasp.
“Troll!” He managed to say.
Arthur looked at him completely confused and justly insulted and said, “I’m not that bad am I?”
“No you prat! The sodding Troll who is currently beating the ever loving shit out of your father!”
Arthur tore his gaze off Merlin’s face (well lips) and over to where, indeed, his father was taking a right pounding from Arthur‘s step-mother.
“Ah of course.” Arthur said as Merlin hauled him to his feet
The ensuing battle was over quickly once Arthur took charge. Even after been flung like a rag doll and smashing into the wall, the Prince still managed to run Jonas through with a conveniently placed sword and Merlin helped with the Troll by tripping it with and equally convenient carpet.
Naturally, the Troll died with some theatrical flatulence.
Really, Merlin thought as he all but ran from Arthur‘s room (The Prince still had a sword in his hand and was looking at Merlin in a way that the young warlock was sure meant You-Are-Going-To-Die-Now). The Plot has a particularly bad sense of humour and seems to enjoy toilet noises far too much for any of this to be taken seriously.
It was much later on in the evening when Arthur managed to track Merlin down. (He hadn’t been hiding so much as cowering in fear and despair, wondering just how Arthur was going to end his life)
“Ah, Merlin!” He called down the corridor. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Merlin turned around, ready to face his death.
“All right, then.” He said miserably. “Let’s have it.”
“What d’you mean?” Arthur asked stopping in front of his manservant.
“You’re here to kill me right? For that kiss?” Arthur opened his mouth to say something but Merlin just carried on in that ridiculously adorable way that he does. “To be fair, Gaius said it was the only way. It was either me or a sheep, really. I know I would rather me. Which is a funny thing to say about myself.” Arthur huffed and tried to speak again but to no avail. “And while we’re talking about funny, I never really thought that snogging the Prince would be my crime. I always thought more on the lines of something huge and epic and saving your life in a highly illegal way using my-”
Suddenly Merlin found he couldn’t talk. It took him a moment to realize that it was because Arthur was kissing him and pushing him up against the wall, which in no way excited the hell out of him.
“Oh.” Merlin said eloquently when Arthur had pulled away and rested his forehead on his.
“Yes, you absolute idiot.” Arthur said panting.
“You’re not going to kill me.” He stated.
“Obviously.” Arthur said dryly. “Rather defeats the purpose of snogging you and telling you that I’d like to take you back to my room and have mind blowingly excellent sex.”
“Quite.” Merlin choked out as Arthur rolled his hips in a decidedly delicious manner.
“Though who says we have to wait until we get to my chambers?” Arthur asked with a glint in his eye and a positively filthy smirk as his hands found their way under Merlin’s tunic and his lips dragged down his neck.
“But…but what…about…Arthur” Merlin groaned as the Prince sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on his collarbone. “What if someone, oh bloody hell do that again, what if someone sees.”
Arthur pulled away and glanced down the hall. Merlin followed his gaze to a massive tapestry hanging on the wall a few feet away.
Merlin grinned as Arthur tugged him behind it just as a guard passed them by.
“Convenient.” He said before pulling Arthur down for another kiss.
*Seriously, Laws were passed about this throughout all of Albion because of the one week a Troll ruled over a Kingdom. I don’t believe you will want to hear the details but let’s just say more sheep were involved. Well, sheep droppings at least. And one incident in which the half the court, eight servants, five dogs, three guards and one rooster all fell to the ground dead after a nasty bout of flatulence but NO one ever talks about that.
** Okay, I’ll tell you about the sheep sheather. There was a man named Horace who lived in Ealdor. Merlin had known him to always have a sheep or two with him. He asked his mother about it one day and Hunith had told him that Horace found a lamb in the forest while chopping wood (and NO that is not meant to be a sexual innuendo, you filthy perverts!) and brought it home with him. A few months later, there was another new lamb following Horace around but no one paid much attention to it. At the time, Horace had lived with five sheep and people started to become faintly suspicious and revolted since all the animals were female. A few days after his mother’s explanation Merlin heard a racket come from Horace’s barn. Most of the village had found Horace in the structure…inappropriately connected to his beloved first sheep. Turns out the creature was magic and for some reason produced female off spring when fucked by a human male. It took two hours, all the oil everyone owned, and the sheep’s well time bowel movement to remove poor Horace from his coveted lover.)
*** I believe that Giaus really does have a point here. For instance, this one time Arthur was ensorcelled by a tree he had attempted to chop down. (Which turned out to a severely pissed off Wood Nymph, who in retaliation threw a blinding ball of green light at the Prince and vanished spitting curses upon Arthur’s future off spring.) At first it seemed like nothing was going to happen. Then three days later Arthur had crashed into Merlin’s room, yelling that his nuts had fallen off. It turned out just to be a couple of chestnuts, which told Merlin that Arthur might just be transforming into a tree. It had taken five days to find a cure and during that time three robins had tried to nest in Arthur’s hair (which had taken on a green sheen), all the hunting dogs were clamouring to lift their legs on him to mark their sent and several attacks of various woodland rodents all hell bent on stealing Arthur’s nuts. (Er…chestnuts that is). In the end, Arthur had grown roots and was permanently attached to his bedroom floor. The cure, which had taken the combined efforts of Giaus, Merlin, two dozen herbs, dragon spit (don’t even ASK how Merlin managed to get that!), a sheep’s tail (yes, ANOTHER sheep) and a very reluctant rooster (no one is still quite sure how that helped), to lift the curse and return Arthur to his prat like self.
**** 20 years or so to be exact. Plenty of time for a magical creature such as the Great Dragon to lose his marbles and become so bored he decides to try his hand (er, claw) at matchmaking two of the most highly revered legendary figures in history. He continues to deny this accusation but when you tell a hormonally charged warlock that he is one side of the same coin and some pratly (equally horny) Prince is the other side…well, top/bottom thoughts are bound to come up and before you know it….
***** He did ask eventually and trust me, you do NOT want to know.