My first (published) fanfic!
Title: The Most Eloquent Silence
Author: lou_angel
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for The Moment of Truth 1.10
Words: 1096
Summary: Set after The Moment of Truth on the journey back to Camelot.
A/N: This fic is unbetaed as I don’t know anyone who would beta it for me, so if you spot a mistake, or know of anyone who would be willing to beta others fics, please let me know.
The Most Eloquent Silence
A cold draught lapped at the edges of the rough blanket tangled round a sleeping Arthur and woke him. He blinked sleepily until the glowing embers of the dying fire came into focus. He could just about see Gwen and Morgana, exhausted, huddled together for warmth, asleep on the other side of the fire. He rolled over to tuck the blanket firmly around him and noticed that Merlin had gone.
He sat abruptly, the last cobwebby remnants of sleepiness rushed from his mind as he listened, alert, very much the hunter and fighter, trying to place his absent servant.
It was no use. He’d have to go and look for him. Arthur threw off the blanket and stood up. The cold air hit him and for a fleeting moment Arthur was tempted to burrow back underneath his blanket and roll closer to the fire. But Merlin had wandered off somewhere and, well, he hadn’t really been himself since they’d left Ealdor. So, Arthur picked up his blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders before picking his way out of the clearing.
He saw Merlin sat on a fallen branch, his back to the makeshift camp. Arthur hesitated, for once uncertain about his next move.
“Go back to bed Arthur,” Merlin said woodenly, without even turning.
“You were gone,” Arthur said, taking a few steps forward.
“I am fine,” Merlin said in the same stilted tone, then, “please leave me alone.”
Arthur paused. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
Arthur stepped forward and gave Merlin’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Merlin! You’re freezing!” Arthur unravelled the blanket about his shoulders and tucked it about his servants’. “How long have you been sat here?”
“I - don’t know.” The falter in Merlin’s voice was so slight Arthur wasn’t even sure he had heard it. He bit his lip, cursing at his own indecision, and then sat down with a thud on the branch, looking back to the camp.
Merlin didn’t move. But he didn’t tell Arthur to go either. Arthur leant back slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of Merlin’s face, and then wished he hadn’t. Merlin, always pale, seemed whiter than ever before and his usual expressive face seemed shuttered and drawn. Arthur was sure he could see a faint glimmer of moonlight on wet cheeks as Merlin abruptly turned his head away. This Merlin, this closed and drained Merlin, this wasn’t his Merlin.
“I am sorry about your friend Will,” Arthur said eventually, “and I’m sorry for what I said afterwards. I shouldn’t expect you to share secrets that aren’t yours to share.” Arthur spoke to comfort Merlin, having no idea how each word jabbed at Merlin’s grieving heart and jolted his battered conscience, “And the fact that you trusted me enough that you were going to, despite everything, is enough. I just wish there was something I could have done -”
“Arthur, stop.”
“Sorry,” Arthur said immediately. It occurred to him that he was saying that word far too often recently. Well, far more than a prince was commonly expected to say it. Especially to their servant.
“No one could do anything. Not even me,” Merlin said.
“I don’t think even Gaius could have helped,” Arthur said ruefully.
“Will always used to look after me, protect me,” Merlin said, “even when we were little. He’d punch the other boys when they teased me about not having a father. And he tried to teach me how to fight until -” until they’d both realised that Merlin would never need to fight in the usual way.
“I never thought I’d say this,” Arthur said, “but he did a pretty good job.”
Merlin gave a small smile and Arthur thought his heart was about to leap out through his throat.
“He always protected me,” Merlin sighed, “and I failed him.”
“There was nothing anyone could do,” Arthur said, “he couldn’t even help himself.”
Merlin ducked his head and avoided Arthur’s eyes. Arthur frowned, confused at Merlin’s reaction. Suddenly, his head was crowded with scurrying questions, snippets of memories, half-baked thoughts that slipped away when he tried to concentrate on them. He leant a little further back to try and glimpse Merlin’s face and promptly lost his balance, slipping off the branch and squelching to the ground.
“Oh great,” he grumbled. And then he heard it. A giggle. From Merlin. “Stop laughing.” He said, trying to sound angry. But it was difficult to sound angry when your heart was singing, “I’m covered in mud. Or worse. These are going to get cold. I’ll have to take them off and I’ll freeze.” Merlin was still sniggering. “Oh stop laughing and help me up!”
Merlin leant forwards and slid his arms under Arthur’s, hauling him back up onto the branch and steadying him. They froze, noses almost touching, Merlin’s hands still on Arthur’s back felt warmer now. In fact Arthur was certain they were burning through his shirt and leaving imprints on his skin. Arthur could hear a loud thudding and realised it was his heart trying to soar out of his chest. He inched forwards and brushed his lips against Merlin’s. And then again, feather-light and fleeting. He felt Merlin’s hands tense awkwardly but they remained where they were. Arthur tilted his head back to see Merlin’s face. Merlin was looking straight at him; his eyes were large and blue and full of something unreadable. Arthur searched Merlin’s face for an answer to a question he didn’t know how to ask. Merlin’s tongue darted nervously across his own lips and Arthur watched its’ progress, mesmerised.
Their lips touched again. This time Arthur didn’t know if he was kissing Merlin or if Merlin was kissing him, or if it even mattered. Arthur’s tongue flickered out, teasing, darting across Merlin’s lips and into his mouth. Merlin’s hands felt even hotter as they slithered down Arthur’s back, surely they must be scorching his skin. Arthur relished their heat, enjoyed the taste of berries and salt on Merlin’s lips.
The salty tang almost stung Arthur’s lips. He drew back slightly. Merlin looked at him, a half formed question dying on his lips. Arthur raised his hand and cupped Merlin’s cheek, his thumb softly brushing the traces of tears that had lingered there.
“Merlin,” Arthur whispered, not wanting to shatter the bliss that enveloped him, “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”
Merlin stilled Arthur’s hand with his own. He turned his head to press a kiss onto Arthur’s palm “I know,” he whispered and then closed Arthur’s fingers over his palm to keep the kiss forever.