Fic: Cold Hearts
Title: Cold Hearts
Author/Artist Name: mabonwitch
Fic or Art?: Fic
Summary: Revealing his magic doesn't go very well for Merlin.
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1300
A/N: Written for merlin_melee, Team Emotional, prompt "ice cold"
Merlin stepped outside the throne room, numb. He had told Arthur. Well, shown him. There had been a sorcerer hidden in the refugees from Cenred's kingdom, one who had come with deadly intent. Arthur had been King for months now; the sorcerer wanted to end that.
Merlin had stepped forward, as he always did. Only this time, with Uther safely gone and Merlin's relationship with Arthur closer than ever, Merlin hadn't hidden. The other sorcerer had been damn fast; Merlin had stopped a bolt of black power only a foot from Arthur's chest. He wasn't quite sure he could have hidden that. More likely, it had been foolishness urging him on. A needy desire for Arthur to know.
Well, he did now. Merlin doubted he would ever forget Arthur's face when he had turned and seen Merlin, arm raised, eyes probably glowing gold. Arthur had gone white with fury. Merlin hadn't seen him so angry since he had nearly killed Uther over his mother. Arthur's eyes had burned as he ordered Merlin away. Lancelot had found a moment to whisper that he would talk to Arthur. It didn't make Merlin feel any better. He supposed he should be grateful that Arthur hadn't immediately ordered him executed. That particular law had not changed under Arthur's rule.
None of it helped. The two beings that might have sympathized were beyond Merlin's reach. Gaius was on a week-long visit with some friends a few days' ride away. And Merlin really didn't think summoning Kilgarrah would be the best idea right now.
With a start, Merlin realized that his feet had taken the old path 'home'. Merlin's room these days were closer to Arthur. He couldn't face the thought of possibly running into Arthur right now, though, not like this. Somehow, the solid weight of depression settling in his gut seemed more suited to Gaius' rooms. Shivering, Merlin opened the door. The servants hadn't bothered to heat the rooms with Gaius away, of course. That didn't bother Merlin. With slow, heavy steps, he climbed to his old room and lay down on the stripped mattress. It was good enough.
He knew it wasn't late. Everyone was probably eating supper now, but the thought of food set his stomach roiling. He couldn't forget the look on Arthur's face, angry and distant and cold. Merlin wrapped his arms around himself and curled into a ball. Over the years, he'd imagined many different ways his eventual revelation of magic might go. His half-cocked I will save Arthur's life and he will be grateful fantasy apparently had a flaw. Merlin always believed that they would talk, after. When Arthur ordered him away, it was being dumped in snow, cold so sharp it stung. He thought an hour might have passed, or two. Was this…it? Was he being summarily ejected from Arthur's golden presence, moved from closest confidant to detested magic-user without even a chance to explain? Surely Arthur knew that Merlin was his friend, and would never hurt or betray him. Surely. Merlin bit his lips, swallowing back tears.
Would Arthur ever allow him close again? He closed his eyes, remembering. Arthur's hand, warm on his shoulder; Arthur's easy smile; helping Arthur into and out of his armor; breathing in Arthur's scent as they stood close together. Arthur carried power with him, so unlike the magic that burned in Merlin's veins. There was a warm haze that lingered around him, as though Arthur were the sun in Camelot's small world. Being sent away felt like exile, the cold of it creeping into Merlin's bones.
Merlin awoke hours later, stiff and icy in the lonely rooms. Uncurling was painful, allowing cold tufts of air to get to his midriff, the only part of him he'd managed to keep warm. He thought of getting up, of starting a fire or retreating to his proper rooms. His stomach tightened in hunger.
He did nothing. He lay there, choking on the cold and the pain, imagining a future without Arthur. Exile, for real his time. Guards bursting in the doors and keeping him locked away, for safety's sake. Arthur turning his back, disgusted that he'd ever allowed Merlin near. Even, in the coldest hour just before dawn, a pyre being built, Arthur ordering him burned for his crime.
His crime. He had only wanted to protect Arthur. He had only ever wanted to protect him! He clenched his hands, nails biting into his palms. Tears gathered thickly in his eyes, clogged the back of his throat, but Merlin refused to let them fall. He deserved this. He should have told Arthur sooner, should never have lied to him, should have never come to Camelot, should have saved Morgana somehow, should never have told anyone at all, not even Gaius…a thousand pathways tangled in his brain. And over it all, he could only think Arthur, Arthur, Arthur.
He drifted off again, miserable, as the sun rose.
**
"Idiot."
Merlin stirred at the familiar voice. For a moment, all seemed well. "What?" He blinked the sleep out of his eyes. The sun was coming through his window in bright waves. It was mid-morning, at least. Arthur came into focus, dark bags under his eyes telling of a sleepless night. Merlin startled and tried to sit up. Arthur put a supportive hand under his arm. "Arthur?"
"You could have made a fire, at least," Arthur grumbled.
Merlin stared at him.
"Idiot," Arthur said again, but there was so much affection is his tone that Merlin felt his heart pound against his ribs.
"Sorry," Merlin said. "I- I'm sorry, Arthur."
Arthur nodded, looking at him. "Don't do that again, Merlin."
"I don't think I can promise not to kill anyone to protect you," Merlin said.
Arthur tightened his hand on Merlin's bicep. "Don't lie to me."
Merlin nodded shakily. "I'm a Dragonlord," he said. He could feel the weight of everything he had kept from Arthur welling up, tumbling out of his mouth. "I knew Morgana could do magic since the witch finder. I killed Nimueh and Morgause. Gaius helped. I've been protecting you since I got here. And also- also, I think I might be a little in love with you."
Arthur went still against him. "Is that all?"
Merlin shrugged. "Probably?"
"Well." Arthur laughed. "I suppose that means I can do this, then." And Arthur kissed him.
Merlin held still, feeling Arthur's lips against his. His eyes fluttered shut. It took long seconds, Arthur beginning to pull away, before Merlin could move. He shivered, lifting his free arm to clench a hand in Arthur's tunic. Gods, Arthur was so warm. Merlin moved his lips against Arthur's. His heart tripped as he felt Arthur smile. Merlin grinned stupidly in response and leaned forward to lick at Arthur's bottom lip. He slid his eyes open, wanting to see Arthur.
Arthur pulled him close, breath catching. He licked his way into Merlin's mouth. Merlin pressed close, craving the heat. Every movement of Arthur's mouth, his hands warm on Merlin, was driving away the cold. Merlin trembled. Desire was chasing away the last of his fear but he felt shaken.
"Merlin," Arthur said. His eyes were dark and his face was flushed. Merlin stared, willing himself to imprint that image deep in his mind so he could have it always. Arthur frowned. "Merlin, light a fire or something. I can't have you distracted because you're cold."
Merlin blinked. There was no fireplace but perhaps- "Baerne." A fire burst into merry existence in mid-air.
Arthur stared. "Well," he drawled, "I suppose you're not completely useless. Now if only you could do something about this mattress-"
Merlin could feel himself blushing. "Um." He honestly hadn't meant to conjure sheets and blankets that time. His magic hadn't done something with so little direction in awhile.
Arthur arched an eyebrow. "I see." With no more warning than that, he pounced. He pushed Merlin down and stretched out on top of him. "Warm enough, Merlin?"
"Nnghh."
Arthur chuckled. "That's what I thought."
Arthur cut off any further discussion with his mouth, but Merlin was quite definitely warm enough.
The End
Author/Artist Name: mabonwitch
Fic or Art?: Fic
Summary: Revealing his magic doesn't go very well for Merlin.
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1300
A/N: Written for merlin_melee, Team Emotional, prompt "ice cold"
Merlin stepped outside the throne room, numb. He had told Arthur. Well, shown him. There had been a sorcerer hidden in the refugees from Cenred's kingdom, one who had come with deadly intent. Arthur had been King for months now; the sorcerer wanted to end that.
Merlin had stepped forward, as he always did. Only this time, with Uther safely gone and Merlin's relationship with Arthur closer than ever, Merlin hadn't hidden. The other sorcerer had been damn fast; Merlin had stopped a bolt of black power only a foot from Arthur's chest. He wasn't quite sure he could have hidden that. More likely, it had been foolishness urging him on. A needy desire for Arthur to know.
Well, he did now. Merlin doubted he would ever forget Arthur's face when he had turned and seen Merlin, arm raised, eyes probably glowing gold. Arthur had gone white with fury. Merlin hadn't seen him so angry since he had nearly killed Uther over his mother. Arthur's eyes had burned as he ordered Merlin away. Lancelot had found a moment to whisper that he would talk to Arthur. It didn't make Merlin feel any better. He supposed he should be grateful that Arthur hadn't immediately ordered him executed. That particular law had not changed under Arthur's rule.
None of it helped. The two beings that might have sympathized were beyond Merlin's reach. Gaius was on a week-long visit with some friends a few days' ride away. And Merlin really didn't think summoning Kilgarrah would be the best idea right now.
With a start, Merlin realized that his feet had taken the old path 'home'. Merlin's room these days were closer to Arthur. He couldn't face the thought of possibly running into Arthur right now, though, not like this. Somehow, the solid weight of depression settling in his gut seemed more suited to Gaius' rooms. Shivering, Merlin opened the door. The servants hadn't bothered to heat the rooms with Gaius away, of course. That didn't bother Merlin. With slow, heavy steps, he climbed to his old room and lay down on the stripped mattress. It was good enough.
He knew it wasn't late. Everyone was probably eating supper now, but the thought of food set his stomach roiling. He couldn't forget the look on Arthur's face, angry and distant and cold. Merlin wrapped his arms around himself and curled into a ball. Over the years, he'd imagined many different ways his eventual revelation of magic might go. His half-cocked I will save Arthur's life and he will be grateful fantasy apparently had a flaw. Merlin always believed that they would talk, after. When Arthur ordered him away, it was being dumped in snow, cold so sharp it stung. He thought an hour might have passed, or two. Was this…it? Was he being summarily ejected from Arthur's golden presence, moved from closest confidant to detested magic-user without even a chance to explain? Surely Arthur knew that Merlin was his friend, and would never hurt or betray him. Surely. Merlin bit his lips, swallowing back tears.
Would Arthur ever allow him close again? He closed his eyes, remembering. Arthur's hand, warm on his shoulder; Arthur's easy smile; helping Arthur into and out of his armor; breathing in Arthur's scent as they stood close together. Arthur carried power with him, so unlike the magic that burned in Merlin's veins. There was a warm haze that lingered around him, as though Arthur were the sun in Camelot's small world. Being sent away felt like exile, the cold of it creeping into Merlin's bones.
Merlin awoke hours later, stiff and icy in the lonely rooms. Uncurling was painful, allowing cold tufts of air to get to his midriff, the only part of him he'd managed to keep warm. He thought of getting up, of starting a fire or retreating to his proper rooms. His stomach tightened in hunger.
He did nothing. He lay there, choking on the cold and the pain, imagining a future without Arthur. Exile, for real his time. Guards bursting in the doors and keeping him locked away, for safety's sake. Arthur turning his back, disgusted that he'd ever allowed Merlin near. Even, in the coldest hour just before dawn, a pyre being built, Arthur ordering him burned for his crime.
His crime. He had only wanted to protect Arthur. He had only ever wanted to protect him! He clenched his hands, nails biting into his palms. Tears gathered thickly in his eyes, clogged the back of his throat, but Merlin refused to let them fall. He deserved this. He should have told Arthur sooner, should never have lied to him, should have never come to Camelot, should have saved Morgana somehow, should never have told anyone at all, not even Gaius…a thousand pathways tangled in his brain. And over it all, he could only think Arthur, Arthur, Arthur.
He drifted off again, miserable, as the sun rose.
**
"Idiot."
Merlin stirred at the familiar voice. For a moment, all seemed well. "What?" He blinked the sleep out of his eyes. The sun was coming through his window in bright waves. It was mid-morning, at least. Arthur came into focus, dark bags under his eyes telling of a sleepless night. Merlin startled and tried to sit up. Arthur put a supportive hand under his arm. "Arthur?"
"You could have made a fire, at least," Arthur grumbled.
Merlin stared at him.
"Idiot," Arthur said again, but there was so much affection is his tone that Merlin felt his heart pound against his ribs.
"Sorry," Merlin said. "I- I'm sorry, Arthur."
Arthur nodded, looking at him. "Don't do that again, Merlin."
"I don't think I can promise not to kill anyone to protect you," Merlin said.
Arthur tightened his hand on Merlin's bicep. "Don't lie to me."
Merlin nodded shakily. "I'm a Dragonlord," he said. He could feel the weight of everything he had kept from Arthur welling up, tumbling out of his mouth. "I knew Morgana could do magic since the witch finder. I killed Nimueh and Morgause. Gaius helped. I've been protecting you since I got here. And also- also, I think I might be a little in love with you."
Arthur went still against him. "Is that all?"
Merlin shrugged. "Probably?"
"Well." Arthur laughed. "I suppose that means I can do this, then." And Arthur kissed him.
Merlin held still, feeling Arthur's lips against his. His eyes fluttered shut. It took long seconds, Arthur beginning to pull away, before Merlin could move. He shivered, lifting his free arm to clench a hand in Arthur's tunic. Gods, Arthur was so warm. Merlin moved his lips against Arthur's. His heart tripped as he felt Arthur smile. Merlin grinned stupidly in response and leaned forward to lick at Arthur's bottom lip. He slid his eyes open, wanting to see Arthur.
Arthur pulled him close, breath catching. He licked his way into Merlin's mouth. Merlin pressed close, craving the heat. Every movement of Arthur's mouth, his hands warm on Merlin, was driving away the cold. Merlin trembled. Desire was chasing away the last of his fear but he felt shaken.
"Merlin," Arthur said. His eyes were dark and his face was flushed. Merlin stared, willing himself to imprint that image deep in his mind so he could have it always. Arthur frowned. "Merlin, light a fire or something. I can't have you distracted because you're cold."
Merlin blinked. There was no fireplace but perhaps- "Baerne." A fire burst into merry existence in mid-air.
Arthur stared. "Well," he drawled, "I suppose you're not completely useless. Now if only you could do something about this mattress-"
Merlin could feel himself blushing. "Um." He honestly hadn't meant to conjure sheets and blankets that time. His magic hadn't done something with so little direction in awhile.
Arthur arched an eyebrow. "I see." With no more warning than that, he pounced. He pushed Merlin down and stretched out on top of him. "Warm enough, Merlin?"
"Nnghh."
Arthur chuckled. "That's what I thought."
Arthur cut off any further discussion with his mouth, but Merlin was quite definitely warm enough.
The End