Dreaming Out Loud
Title: Dreaming Out Loud
Author: didzease
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: R
Word Count: 2 681
A/N: Kind-of un-betaed (just read over by some different people). The title was stolen from the song by OneRepublic (from the album that was named the same) because I'm horribly unimaginative when I have to think of a title. Sorry.
Concrit is appreciated.
Arthur was laying on a patch of grass, somewhere deep in the forest, and under a canopy of trees where hardly any sunshine shone through. He looked up at the leaves swaying lightly in the air - anything to keep himself from looking at Merlin, who was holding out an arm and whispered strange words that were almost lost on the soft rustle of the wind. He didn't want to know what Merlin whispered, just like he didn't want to know how Merlin had learnt how to talk like that. He didn't know whether he wanted to know the purpose of the words, either, although he was definitely curious.
He could see the gold flare from the corners of his eyes though, the gold shining as he could feel the green slowly encircle his wrists - roses, he knew from the smell, sweet and lingering in the air like they would on a sweltering hot summer's afternoon. Here it was cool though, mostly hidden from the sun's burning beams, certainly not too fresh, but definitely not warm either, and the grass he was laying on was slightly damp from the morning dew still, shimmering in the little light that did come through the green above them, and a lot softer than he had imagined - softer than it was in the memories he had of laying in the grass when he was resting outside.
And the stems of the roses were pulled tighter around his wrists, although Arthur was pretty sure he could snap them if he wanted to, or if they weren't somehow enchanted - something which was pretty likely, actually, if Merlin didn't want him to escape from these bounds. It vaguely occurred to him that the sting of thorns that should be there was absent, while a flower started to blossom right next to his ear, and the petals were soft as silk against his skin, the scent becoming heavier even, prickling his nose, and making it hard for him to breathe, the sweetness almost overwhelming as Merlin, who was out of his sight now, let the big flower almost caress his skin.
It made him shiver, and writhe slightly against the grass, while he was transfixed with what Merlin looked like, standing a few feet away from him with a soft smile on his face that showed no evil. He knew his eyes had gone wide, partially in fear about what was yet to come, as he had no idea, and partially in anticipation because he felt so incredibly, inexplicably good - happy.
Suddenly the entire atmosphere around them changed somehow, in something even heavier than the sweet scent of the unnatural big roses, something which made his mouth run dry and which made him realise he was starting to get aroused, his breeches tighter than they were before and a wave of heat flooding through his body as he realised it, making a flush creep up his face and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Because nothing had really changed, and yet everything had. He swallowed, then tried to speak, but his mouth felt too dry, and his breathing was growing too ragged, and then the laces of his shirt were coming undone without being touched.
He didn't even need to look up to Merlin to know he was the one doing it. And as soon as the laces were loose, hanging over his chest, the threads of his shirt started to unravel, not in the way it happened when clothes were worn out, but methodically, and when he looked down at his body to see what was happening, he could see the cloth becoming rapidly translucent, and soon all stitches were gone and his chest was bare.
Glancing up at Merlin earned him another shiver, because he hadn't expected to see him standing with his full composure still up, looking as if nothing was going on right in front of him - or at least, it would have looked like that if Arthur hadn't spotted the yearning look in Merlin's eyes.
Then the flowers around him grew again, large leaves this time, which took away most of his vision as they were falling over his head. He supposed that if it hadn't been for the hammering of his heart, far too quickly in his chest, and his ragged breathing, he probably would have thought about why on earth Merlin was doing this, but as it was it seemed like there wasn't a place in his head where he could think about that kind of things, and so he didn't.
He could feel his breeches loosen, like his shirt had done before, and he prayed Merlin wouldn't unravel the cloth the same way as he'd done before because Arthur had seen him sew before. There was a heavy scent of soil around him, suddenly, and a warmth spread through his body again, although he wasn't sure whether it was emotion or something else. He heard the rustling of someone kneeling on the grass nearby, Merlin of course, and the language he was becoming familiar with in a strange way, as it was not entirely unknown to him anymore, less foreign now he knew it was Merlin speaking the words, even though Arthur hadn't ever seen him like this before.
His mouth was still dry when he could feel hands touching him, warm and something was different from usual touches - even touches from Merlin - something was off and he couldn't put his finger on what it was, exactly.
First there were the feather light touches at Arthur his ribcage, which made his breath catch in his throat and his head fall back. Then stronger hands at his hips, pushing his side slightly off the ground and - another strange thing he wouldn't have thought he would ever let happen to himself, until now when it did - the other hand slipping behind his back, and then pushed him onto his stomach. He grunted when he felt the erection, still trapped in his breeches, grate against the ground he found to be surprisingly solid, even though he still recalled it feeling much softer than down before. Another sound escaped his lips as his hips involuntarily grounded into the earth, providing a kind of friction he hadn't expected.
Somewhere in the distance he could hear noise, like the banging on his door each morning he felt lazy, the mornings on which he didn't want to get up to open it and let the servants in. Arthur buried his face in the leaves, willing for the sound to go - and thankfully it did after a while. He sighed, smiled, and it wasn't until then that he realised some things had changed yet again.
When he opened his eyes, there was a bright light nearly blinding him, and from the little he'd seen between opening and closing them again, Arthur was pretty sure he was back in his own room. The sheets draped over his back were heavy as ever, and the down didn't smell a lot like grass or earth, nor did he see any roses growing out of his headboard. Merlin wasn't around either - and Arthur hadn't expected him to be so, either. He never was, after all, in the mornings.
The only thing that remained was the burn between his legs. As soon as he became aware of it, his hips started to move on their own accord again, and there wasn't a lot Arthur could do, except for moan helplessly into his pillow when he came, just moments later.
Afterwards he cleaned himself with his shirt, and then got dressed, embarrassed at the thought of having to ask Merlin to change his bedsheets - for the fourth morning in row.
* * *
While it had been nice weather in his dream - spring, as he imagined - now Arthur was awake, it was winter again, with still at least a month to go before the first leaves would start to show their green and colour the world again, rather than the various shades of grey and the dull browns they'd been staring at for what seemed like forever. He longed for the bright colours of spring and the hot days in summer, when the world seemed a bit more at peace, or at least nature. It was the kind of sentiment he would probably never share with anybody, but between the fights that had to be fought - and he enjoyed those too - he liked to retreat into a world of peace, just for a change. Uther probably would hate him for thoughts like that.
Merlin - who was currently busying himself changing Arthur's bedsheets, and not even complaining but doing everything with a bright smile that might very well show he knew why Arthur had requested his services this morning - probably wouldn't. He was all for peace - Arthur remembered when he'd followed his servant to Ealdor to help him out. His own feelings about it had been an underlying thought, hidden underneath the idea he did have to help his kind-of-friend.
He was watching because he thought he might find out what the dreams meant. Not the warm and content feelings, but the other part - Merlin practising magic. It had made him think, because surely it couldn't just be a random thought that had fuelled his dreams in an erotic way, an extra something to everything else happening. Arthur was quite sure he would have thought something like that before, if it had been the case. He rather imagined it was something his mind had picked up unconsciously, during the times Merlin was near him when he was in danger - which was mostly the case - and the times he'd defeated monsters about which Gaius had said they couldn't be defeated, not without the help of magic.
It was far too easy to imagine Merlin with magic, to make it seem an impossible thing.
Even so much so, that it actually made sense, and his dreams seemed to have picked up on it far sooner than his conscious mind. He wasn't able to recall when he had first seen Merlin appear in one of his dreams, at first about violence and killing monsters, very innocent as far as killing went.
He was always there with the magic, though - like Arthur couldn't remember when he started dreaming about him, he also couldn't remember when the dreams had been without Merlin using magic. They frightened him, still, and it seemed he had to get used to the language each dream again because he forgot about it, but he didn't think he would be surprised if Merlin could do magic. His own question still surprised him, however.
“What do you think about magic?”
At first sight it seemed to startle Merlin, too, from the way he let the bedsheets fall from his hands, and the mumbles that fell from his lips - incoherent speech - but everything happened a moment too late to be out of real shock. Because of this, Arthur realised Merlin had to have been expecting him to ask this.
“Oh um,” Merlin said, finally straightening himself and looking at Arthur with a slight grin on his face, “do you really want to know?”
“I really want to know, Merlin. And the truth, please.”
“Right, yes.” Merlin nodded. “Well, I have no objections against it,” he trailed off, so Arthur wavered with his hands, hoping Merlin would understand the hint and continue. After a frown, he indeed did. “And I find it slightly ridiculous of Uther, this no magic rule.”
“So if I understand it well,” Arthur needed the confirmation of Merlin actually approving of it before asking his next question, “you are okay with the use of magic?”
“You could say it like that, I suppose,” Merlin said. “What about you?”
Arthur supposed the should have expected that question. The fact it was so utterly obvious, and that he had not thought of it, made him feel a little stupid - but obviously it was something he did not show.
“Well, it is evident that all experience I have witnessing magic weren't exactly what you'd call positive,” he started, but Merlin interrupted him.
“And now you may speak the truth,” he snorted.
“I obviously would have told Uther you are for magic if I was completely against it,” Arthur rolled his eyes, feeling that should have been as obvious to Merlin as it was to him. “And what experiences do you have with magic? Other than when you were with me, of course.”
“I swear, if you're angry, and this has got to do with the dreams you've been having-” Merlin said, and then his eyes widened in shock at what he'd just said. Arthur realised why - he'd been dreaming about his servant, and if Merlin could do magic he probably would have been able to give Arthur these dreams, he then would know about them. And if Merlin didn't mean that... he meant the evidence.
“What do you know about my dreams?” Arthur said, his voice lacking the self-confidence he had wanted to use, and instead it sounded fragile and heavy with emotion - which emotion, he didn't know.
“I,” Merlin said, pale as a sheet now, “I just...” he trailed off, eyes nervous flickering about the room, looking everywhere but Arthur.
“You just what?” Arthur spat at Merlin, getting annoyed because it seemed the other man didn't want to give him a reply, while this was a serious matter as it was about magic.
“I just wanted to see how you'd react to magic!” Merlin got aggravated as well, his voice ringing with frustration. “Just, I thought that if you had despised it, you would've started to talk about that, but instead you seem to ignore it!”
“How should I have guessed you can do magic and give me dreams in which you do magic, oh and when I hardly remember aforementioned dreams after I wake up!”
“I don't know! It was hardly a spell anyway. I mean, it was, but apparently it didn't work out the way I wanted to.”
“So you're saying you actually brought me in danger?” Arthur was about to start shouting, he'd already raised his voice, but he realised that somebody might walk past his room and he knew that if he would start shouting the people in the corridors would hear even without trying too hard.
“It wasn't like that,” Merlin replied quietly. “I just wanted to hint about magic, and then suddenly I appeared in your dreams!”
“So you were there, in actual reality, as far as dreams are real,” Arthur stated.
“Yes.”
Oh.
That meant Merlin had been there last night. And the three nights before.
“Were you able to, say, influence my dreams?” he carefully asked.
Merlin just nodded this time, looking slightly flustered and as if he would really like to flee from Arthur's room right now please. The door appeared to be nicer than Arthur, so he walked over to Merlin and stood in between him and the door.
If Merlin had been able to influence his dreams, he knew about the past nights, and it would probably explain why he cleaned Arthur's bed without complaints, giggling at how immature Arthur really was, still doing - that.
...If Merlin had been able to influence his dreams, he used his power to bind Arthur's wrists together with the stems of roses. Merlin had been trying to arouse him, and even after he'd thought it, it took a while before it finally clicked.
“I'm sorry,” Merlin said after a while, and then walked around Arthur, straight out of the door. Arthur wasn't even capable of uttering any words, still too shocked at what he'd realised only now.
Might be continued...
Author: didzease
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: R
Word Count: 2 681
A/N: Kind-of un-betaed (just read over by some different people). The title was stolen from the song by OneRepublic (from the album that was named the same) because I'm horribly unimaginative when I have to think of a title. Sorry.
Concrit is appreciated.
Arthur was laying on a patch of grass, somewhere deep in the forest, and under a canopy of trees where hardly any sunshine shone through. He looked up at the leaves swaying lightly in the air - anything to keep himself from looking at Merlin, who was holding out an arm and whispered strange words that were almost lost on the soft rustle of the wind. He didn't want to know what Merlin whispered, just like he didn't want to know how Merlin had learnt how to talk like that. He didn't know whether he wanted to know the purpose of the words, either, although he was definitely curious.
He could see the gold flare from the corners of his eyes though, the gold shining as he could feel the green slowly encircle his wrists - roses, he knew from the smell, sweet and lingering in the air like they would on a sweltering hot summer's afternoon. Here it was cool though, mostly hidden from the sun's burning beams, certainly not too fresh, but definitely not warm either, and the grass he was laying on was slightly damp from the morning dew still, shimmering in the little light that did come through the green above them, and a lot softer than he had imagined - softer than it was in the memories he had of laying in the grass when he was resting outside.
And the stems of the roses were pulled tighter around his wrists, although Arthur was pretty sure he could snap them if he wanted to, or if they weren't somehow enchanted - something which was pretty likely, actually, if Merlin didn't want him to escape from these bounds. It vaguely occurred to him that the sting of thorns that should be there was absent, while a flower started to blossom right next to his ear, and the petals were soft as silk against his skin, the scent becoming heavier even, prickling his nose, and making it hard for him to breathe, the sweetness almost overwhelming as Merlin, who was out of his sight now, let the big flower almost caress his skin.
It made him shiver, and writhe slightly against the grass, while he was transfixed with what Merlin looked like, standing a few feet away from him with a soft smile on his face that showed no evil. He knew his eyes had gone wide, partially in fear about what was yet to come, as he had no idea, and partially in anticipation because he felt so incredibly, inexplicably good - happy.
Suddenly the entire atmosphere around them changed somehow, in something even heavier than the sweet scent of the unnatural big roses, something which made his mouth run dry and which made him realise he was starting to get aroused, his breeches tighter than they were before and a wave of heat flooding through his body as he realised it, making a flush creep up his face and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Because nothing had really changed, and yet everything had. He swallowed, then tried to speak, but his mouth felt too dry, and his breathing was growing too ragged, and then the laces of his shirt were coming undone without being touched.
He didn't even need to look up to Merlin to know he was the one doing it. And as soon as the laces were loose, hanging over his chest, the threads of his shirt started to unravel, not in the way it happened when clothes were worn out, but methodically, and when he looked down at his body to see what was happening, he could see the cloth becoming rapidly translucent, and soon all stitches were gone and his chest was bare.
Glancing up at Merlin earned him another shiver, because he hadn't expected to see him standing with his full composure still up, looking as if nothing was going on right in front of him - or at least, it would have looked like that if Arthur hadn't spotted the yearning look in Merlin's eyes.
Then the flowers around him grew again, large leaves this time, which took away most of his vision as they were falling over his head. He supposed that if it hadn't been for the hammering of his heart, far too quickly in his chest, and his ragged breathing, he probably would have thought about why on earth Merlin was doing this, but as it was it seemed like there wasn't a place in his head where he could think about that kind of things, and so he didn't.
He could feel his breeches loosen, like his shirt had done before, and he prayed Merlin wouldn't unravel the cloth the same way as he'd done before because Arthur had seen him sew before. There was a heavy scent of soil around him, suddenly, and a warmth spread through his body again, although he wasn't sure whether it was emotion or something else. He heard the rustling of someone kneeling on the grass nearby, Merlin of course, and the language he was becoming familiar with in a strange way, as it was not entirely unknown to him anymore, less foreign now he knew it was Merlin speaking the words, even though Arthur hadn't ever seen him like this before.
His mouth was still dry when he could feel hands touching him, warm and something was different from usual touches - even touches from Merlin - something was off and he couldn't put his finger on what it was, exactly.
First there were the feather light touches at Arthur his ribcage, which made his breath catch in his throat and his head fall back. Then stronger hands at his hips, pushing his side slightly off the ground and - another strange thing he wouldn't have thought he would ever let happen to himself, until now when it did - the other hand slipping behind his back, and then pushed him onto his stomach. He grunted when he felt the erection, still trapped in his breeches, grate against the ground he found to be surprisingly solid, even though he still recalled it feeling much softer than down before. Another sound escaped his lips as his hips involuntarily grounded into the earth, providing a kind of friction he hadn't expected.
Somewhere in the distance he could hear noise, like the banging on his door each morning he felt lazy, the mornings on which he didn't want to get up to open it and let the servants in. Arthur buried his face in the leaves, willing for the sound to go - and thankfully it did after a while. He sighed, smiled, and it wasn't until then that he realised some things had changed yet again.
When he opened his eyes, there was a bright light nearly blinding him, and from the little he'd seen between opening and closing them again, Arthur was pretty sure he was back in his own room. The sheets draped over his back were heavy as ever, and the down didn't smell a lot like grass or earth, nor did he see any roses growing out of his headboard. Merlin wasn't around either - and Arthur hadn't expected him to be so, either. He never was, after all, in the mornings.
The only thing that remained was the burn between his legs. As soon as he became aware of it, his hips started to move on their own accord again, and there wasn't a lot Arthur could do, except for moan helplessly into his pillow when he came, just moments later.
Afterwards he cleaned himself with his shirt, and then got dressed, embarrassed at the thought of having to ask Merlin to change his bedsheets - for the fourth morning in row.
* * *
While it had been nice weather in his dream - spring, as he imagined - now Arthur was awake, it was winter again, with still at least a month to go before the first leaves would start to show their green and colour the world again, rather than the various shades of grey and the dull browns they'd been staring at for what seemed like forever. He longed for the bright colours of spring and the hot days in summer, when the world seemed a bit more at peace, or at least nature. It was the kind of sentiment he would probably never share with anybody, but between the fights that had to be fought - and he enjoyed those too - he liked to retreat into a world of peace, just for a change. Uther probably would hate him for thoughts like that.
Merlin - who was currently busying himself changing Arthur's bedsheets, and not even complaining but doing everything with a bright smile that might very well show he knew why Arthur had requested his services this morning - probably wouldn't. He was all for peace - Arthur remembered when he'd followed his servant to Ealdor to help him out. His own feelings about it had been an underlying thought, hidden underneath the idea he did have to help his kind-of-friend.
He was watching because he thought he might find out what the dreams meant. Not the warm and content feelings, but the other part - Merlin practising magic. It had made him think, because surely it couldn't just be a random thought that had fuelled his dreams in an erotic way, an extra something to everything else happening. Arthur was quite sure he would have thought something like that before, if it had been the case. He rather imagined it was something his mind had picked up unconsciously, during the times Merlin was near him when he was in danger - which was mostly the case - and the times he'd defeated monsters about which Gaius had said they couldn't be defeated, not without the help of magic.
It was far too easy to imagine Merlin with magic, to make it seem an impossible thing.
Even so much so, that it actually made sense, and his dreams seemed to have picked up on it far sooner than his conscious mind. He wasn't able to recall when he had first seen Merlin appear in one of his dreams, at first about violence and killing monsters, very innocent as far as killing went.
He was always there with the magic, though - like Arthur couldn't remember when he started dreaming about him, he also couldn't remember when the dreams had been without Merlin using magic. They frightened him, still, and it seemed he had to get used to the language each dream again because he forgot about it, but he didn't think he would be surprised if Merlin could do magic. His own question still surprised him, however.
“What do you think about magic?”
At first sight it seemed to startle Merlin, too, from the way he let the bedsheets fall from his hands, and the mumbles that fell from his lips - incoherent speech - but everything happened a moment too late to be out of real shock. Because of this, Arthur realised Merlin had to have been expecting him to ask this.
“Oh um,” Merlin said, finally straightening himself and looking at Arthur with a slight grin on his face, “do you really want to know?”
“I really want to know, Merlin. And the truth, please.”
“Right, yes.” Merlin nodded. “Well, I have no objections against it,” he trailed off, so Arthur wavered with his hands, hoping Merlin would understand the hint and continue. After a frown, he indeed did. “And I find it slightly ridiculous of Uther, this no magic rule.”
“So if I understand it well,” Arthur needed the confirmation of Merlin actually approving of it before asking his next question, “you are okay with the use of magic?”
“You could say it like that, I suppose,” Merlin said. “What about you?”
Arthur supposed the should have expected that question. The fact it was so utterly obvious, and that he had not thought of it, made him feel a little stupid - but obviously it was something he did not show.
“Well, it is evident that all experience I have witnessing magic weren't exactly what you'd call positive,” he started, but Merlin interrupted him.
“And now you may speak the truth,” he snorted.
“I obviously would have told Uther you are for magic if I was completely against it,” Arthur rolled his eyes, feeling that should have been as obvious to Merlin as it was to him. “And what experiences do you have with magic? Other than when you were with me, of course.”
“I swear, if you're angry, and this has got to do with the dreams you've been having-” Merlin said, and then his eyes widened in shock at what he'd just said. Arthur realised why - he'd been dreaming about his servant, and if Merlin could do magic he probably would have been able to give Arthur these dreams, he then would know about them. And if Merlin didn't mean that... he meant the evidence.
“What do you know about my dreams?” Arthur said, his voice lacking the self-confidence he had wanted to use, and instead it sounded fragile and heavy with emotion - which emotion, he didn't know.
“I,” Merlin said, pale as a sheet now, “I just...” he trailed off, eyes nervous flickering about the room, looking everywhere but Arthur.
“You just what?” Arthur spat at Merlin, getting annoyed because it seemed the other man didn't want to give him a reply, while this was a serious matter as it was about magic.
“I just wanted to see how you'd react to magic!” Merlin got aggravated as well, his voice ringing with frustration. “Just, I thought that if you had despised it, you would've started to talk about that, but instead you seem to ignore it!”
“How should I have guessed you can do magic and give me dreams in which you do magic, oh and when I hardly remember aforementioned dreams after I wake up!”
“I don't know! It was hardly a spell anyway. I mean, it was, but apparently it didn't work out the way I wanted to.”
“So you're saying you actually brought me in danger?” Arthur was about to start shouting, he'd already raised his voice, but he realised that somebody might walk past his room and he knew that if he would start shouting the people in the corridors would hear even without trying too hard.
“It wasn't like that,” Merlin replied quietly. “I just wanted to hint about magic, and then suddenly I appeared in your dreams!”
“So you were there, in actual reality, as far as dreams are real,” Arthur stated.
“Yes.”
Oh.
That meant Merlin had been there last night. And the three nights before.
“Were you able to, say, influence my dreams?” he carefully asked.
Merlin just nodded this time, looking slightly flustered and as if he would really like to flee from Arthur's room right now please. The door appeared to be nicer than Arthur, so he walked over to Merlin and stood in between him and the door.
If Merlin had been able to influence his dreams, he knew about the past nights, and it would probably explain why he cleaned Arthur's bed without complaints, giggling at how immature Arthur really was, still doing - that.
...If Merlin had been able to influence his dreams, he used his power to bind Arthur's wrists together with the stems of roses. Merlin had been trying to arouse him, and even after he'd thought it, it took a while before it finally clicked.
“I'm sorry,” Merlin said after a while, and then walked around Arthur, straight out of the door. Arthur wasn't even capable of uttering any words, still too shocked at what he'd realised only now.
Might be continued...