Merlin fic 1/1
Title: In the Bleak Midwinter
Author:idontlikegravy
Character(s)/pairings: Arthur/Merlin
Fandom and/or Prompt: Merlin
Rating: PG-13
Warning:Pre-slash. Oh and it’s my first Merlin/Arthur fic.
Words:540
Disclaimer: Not mine, never was, never will be.
Written for Day Twenty one of consci_fan_mo
In the Bleak Midwinter
It was nearing the Winter Solstice, and though the castle was filled with the warm glow of people getting ready for the celebration feast, a thick blanket of snow covered Camelot and the draughty stone corridors were colder than the ice house.
Merlin had been on fire watch for the last three nights, tasked with making sure that Arthur’s fire did not die during the night. It meant he was tired each morning, but at least it was warm.
He huddled by the hearth and occasionally poked the embers, getting up to add another log when necessary.
Heaven forbid the Crown Prince of Camelot should catch cold, he thought bitterly as another ember landed on his tunic with a sizzle. Part of him wanted to just enchant the fire not to go out so he could get some sleep. That’s not a bad idea, he thought and began to think what the right spell for the job might be. He was almost certain he had it when Arthur turned over in bed, making him jump.
“Merlin,” he muttered.
“Yes sire?” Merlin replied. When no answer was forthcoming, Merlin turned round and saw that Arthur was fast asleep still. Which meant he had called out his name in his sleep. Even in his dreams Arthur was probably ordering Merlin about.
“Oh, Merlin,” Arthur called out. This time Merlin flushed. *That* did not sound like Arthur giving him an order.
Curiously, Merlin crept forward and stood over Arthur, watching him sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him look so peaceful. He must have imagined the tone in Arthur’s voice. Besides, he loves Gwen. With a shake of his head he crept back to his own spot and within a few minutes he was fast asleep.
“Merlin!”
Merlin awoke with a start to find himself staring at Arthur’s bare feet. He glanced up to find Arthur looming over him, hands on hips and very annoyed.
“Merlin, you idiot, you fell asleep and the fire’s gone out,” Arthur said, and pointed to the hearth. Merlin rolled over.
“I’m sure it hasn’t, it probably just needs tending,” he muttered. He could see it had gone out, but there was no way he was admitting that to Arthur. He grabbed the poker and started pushing around the ashes and then, under his breath, muttered a spell to get the fire going again. As a small flame began to lick along the logs Merlin allowed himself a small smile of triumph. “See? I only closed my eyes for a moment, it’s fine.”
“Well, it’s freezing in here. It woke me up,” Arthur replied petulantly. “I order you to warm me up again.”
Merlin sat up and looked at Arthur.
“And just how do you propose I do that, sire?” he replied in his most surly tone, lacing the word sire with as much sarcasm as possible.
“Body warmth. You’ll have to sleep in the bed with me,” Arthur instructed and pointed to the bed to demonstrate. Merlin was about to protest, but there was something in Arthur’s eyes, something almost begging, that made Merlin realise there was more to this than body warmth. Merlin sighed and clambered to his feet.
“Whatever you say, sire.”
Author:idontlikegravy
Character(s)/pairings: Arthur/Merlin
Fandom and/or Prompt: Merlin
Rating: PG-13
Warning:Pre-slash. Oh and it’s my first Merlin/Arthur fic.
Words:540
Disclaimer: Not mine, never was, never will be.
Written for Day Twenty one of consci_fan_mo
In the Bleak Midwinter
It was nearing the Winter Solstice, and though the castle was filled with the warm glow of people getting ready for the celebration feast, a thick blanket of snow covered Camelot and the draughty stone corridors were colder than the ice house.
Merlin had been on fire watch for the last three nights, tasked with making sure that Arthur’s fire did not die during the night. It meant he was tired each morning, but at least it was warm.
He huddled by the hearth and occasionally poked the embers, getting up to add another log when necessary.
Heaven forbid the Crown Prince of Camelot should catch cold, he thought bitterly as another ember landed on his tunic with a sizzle. Part of him wanted to just enchant the fire not to go out so he could get some sleep. That’s not a bad idea, he thought and began to think what the right spell for the job might be. He was almost certain he had it when Arthur turned over in bed, making him jump.
“Merlin,” he muttered.
“Yes sire?” Merlin replied. When no answer was forthcoming, Merlin turned round and saw that Arthur was fast asleep still. Which meant he had called out his name in his sleep. Even in his dreams Arthur was probably ordering Merlin about.
“Oh, Merlin,” Arthur called out. This time Merlin flushed. *That* did not sound like Arthur giving him an order.
Curiously, Merlin crept forward and stood over Arthur, watching him sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him look so peaceful. He must have imagined the tone in Arthur’s voice. Besides, he loves Gwen. With a shake of his head he crept back to his own spot and within a few minutes he was fast asleep.
“Merlin!”
Merlin awoke with a start to find himself staring at Arthur’s bare feet. He glanced up to find Arthur looming over him, hands on hips and very annoyed.
“Merlin, you idiot, you fell asleep and the fire’s gone out,” Arthur said, and pointed to the hearth. Merlin rolled over.
“I’m sure it hasn’t, it probably just needs tending,” he muttered. He could see it had gone out, but there was no way he was admitting that to Arthur. He grabbed the poker and started pushing around the ashes and then, under his breath, muttered a spell to get the fire going again. As a small flame began to lick along the logs Merlin allowed himself a small smile of triumph. “See? I only closed my eyes for a moment, it’s fine.”
“Well, it’s freezing in here. It woke me up,” Arthur replied petulantly. “I order you to warm me up again.”
Merlin sat up and looked at Arthur.
“And just how do you propose I do that, sire?” he replied in his most surly tone, lacing the word sire with as much sarcasm as possible.
“Body warmth. You’ll have to sleep in the bed with me,” Arthur instructed and pointed to the bed to demonstrate. Merlin was about to protest, but there was something in Arthur’s eyes, something almost begging, that made Merlin realise there was more to this than body warmth. Merlin sighed and clambered to his feet.
“Whatever you say, sire.”