Fic: Merlin/Arthur, Four Moments in Merlin and Arthur's Friendship...
Title: Four Moments in Merlin and Arthur’s Friendship - and one of something more.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Kissing, mentions of sex
Word Count: 1583
Prompt: “Arthur/Merlin, please, either friendship or slash. If slash, bottom!Merlin is wonderful and very much preferred.”
Summary: Merlin and Arthur’s friendship, a series of snapshots over the years.
AN: Written for merlin_santa. Here you go, auryn_wren! ^_^ I hope you like it, love!
**
One
The first big test of their friendship is when Arthur finds out about Merlin’s magic. Over the years, since Morgana disappeared and Merlin became part of the fight against magic, there have been hundreds of opportunities for Merlin to tell Arthur about his magic, to share that with him, and the fact that he never did, after all these years, is what nearly breaks them apart. It’s been seven years, Uther is clearly dying and Arthur is king in all but name, and Merlin never once told him, despite ample opportunity.
It’s the length of the silence which nearly destroys them, not the secret it hid.
Arthur grew out of raging in his chambers and throwing things, but sometimes he wishes that he hadn’t. Sometimes, he wishes he was young and silly enough to think that throwing his things around would make him feel better, because he can’t believe that Merlin - Merlin - is that person, the one who’d deceive and betray him for all this time. He could hardly care less about the secret itself, but that Merlin never told him... He wants to hurt Merlin so badly.
It’s for that reason that he rides out, by himself, to a nearby village to check over their grain supply in person rather than simply sending a rider. He needs to clear his head, get some distance. He’ll forgive Merlin, so he’d never forgive himself if he hurt him.
By the time he arrived back in Camelot, Merlin was long gone.
Arthur doesn’t pretend not to be worried. He sends search parties out looking for his manservant, without ever really hoping that he would find him. The thought of Camelot without Merlin has become unbearable to Arthur, and he wants to find him. If he could go out himself, he would, but it’s no longer possible for him just to take time out of his life like that, not coming so soon after he disappeared for a whole day. He’s given too much time to Merlin recently. If he could, he would give more, but he will soon be king of this land and Merlin knows better than anyone else that Arthur has to and will always put Camelot first.
Merlin is brought in three days later, pale and soaked, his eyes dark with defiance and worry. No fear, though - Arthur thinks he might have hit him if he’d looked afraid.
“Where did you go?”
Merlin shrugs. “Away.”
“Are you allergic to specifics, Merlin, or is it just an aversion?”
“I wasn’t anywhere specific.” Merlin shrugs again, insouciant as ever despite his wet, bedraggled look.
“You just decided to run, then?” Arthur asks, standing behind his table, leaning with his hands spread over his maps and reports. “Without a plan or any idea where you’d be going?”
“I just couldn’t be here anymore.” Merlin says quietly and Arthur glared at him.
“You don’t get to decide that, Merlin.” He snaps. “You’ll damn well wait for my decision.”
“I’m not going to-” He catches Arthur’s eye and the fight seeps out of him. “I can’t watch you sentence me.” He says quietly.
Arthur moves round the table and puts one hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “You won’t have to.”
Two
When Uther dies later that year, Arthur waits an appropriate length of time, then brings the country out of official mourning and announces the repeal of the magic laws, all on the same day. It’s hard to think with the uproar going on around him. The Council is in uproar, the Knights are confused, torn between duty to their families and their King, and everyone is frightened and off-balance.
And then in the midst of the madness, Merlin takes a step forward, standing right by Arthur’s shoulder, and puts his hand on Arthur’s arm. “It’s still right, you know.”
“What?” Arthur snaps. “I haven’t got time for mind games right now, Merlin.”
“What you’re thinking. It’s hard, but it’s not wrong.”
Arthur glances up at him. “Well, thanks for your totally unsolicited opinion.”
Merlin grins and steps back, but Arthur can feel the warmth of his hand still on his arm, and it makes it a little easier to make some of these calls.
Three
Arthur sometimes thinks that his entire reign has been nothing but him destroying long-held traditions and ideals. It doesn’t matter that his people are happier, better-fed and more loyal than they’ve ever been in living memory when he has to sit all day in a Council of stony-faced nobles and then eat with an angry castle. The servants serve him with a smile and a deeper than necessary curtsey or bow, but the nobles look at him with such resentment, he wonders whether he’s won one battle and hadn’t noticed that he’d lost a different one when he wasn’t looking.
This thought reappears the night he knights Lancelot. “This man is the finest fighter in the realm, and will be a worthy addition to the Knights of Camelot.” He says clearly over the mutters of the crowd of nobles. Guinevere is smiling broadly, Merlin in his Sorcerer’s robes looks like all of his Midwinter gifts have come early, but the rest of the nobles are giving Lancelot looks of frank distaste. “Anyone who disagrees is welcome to take it up with me - and only me.”
With that, he helps Lancelot up and pretends not to notice that the cheer is led almost exclusively by the servants.
When the feast is over and it’s finally polite for Arthur to withdraw, he sits and stares moodily into the fire. Merlin kneels at his feet, taking his boots off for him, and Arthur kicks out at him lightly, just to be contrary.
“You don’t have to do that anymore.”
“I’m a nice person.”
“I happen to know for a fact that you’re lying.” Arthur goes back to staring into the fire. “Tell me it’s wrong to do everything I’m doing. Tell me I shouldn’t have repealed the magic laws and that peasants belong with the cows not in the court.”
“I can’t tell you any of that.” Merlin says quietly. “I can only tell you that this is the noblest thing I have ever seen you do. Slaying dragons and facing griffins is nothing next to this.”
“Rubbish, slaying dragons and facing griffins is the stuff of legends.” Arthur snorts.
“You never had to face their parents the next day.” Merlin points out. “You didn’t have to live with them all the time.”
Arthur sighs and stretches out. “Maybe so.”
“If I were to tell you that you were wrong, what would you say to me?” Merlin asks.
“I would tell you all the reasons I was right.” Arthur said sleepily.
“There’s your answer.” Merlin stood. “C’mon, your manservant’s not coming tonight. Bed, Arthur.”
“Always feel better after talking to you, Merlin.” Arthur said, following Merlin to the bed. “Why is that?”
“Magic.” Merlin says with a grin, and Arthur falls asleep with a smile on his face.
Four
It’s hardly all one-sided - Arthur, after all, is not the one who tends to overthink everything. That’s all on Merlin. Arthur’s become very, very good, over the years, at stopping Merlin from his more impressive flights of idiocy. The second night he catches Merlin skipping sleep to work on a spell shield for the army, he puts his foot down.
“I need you functional, Merlin, you idiot.” He says as he supports a barely-awake Merlin down the stairs. “That doesn’t mean barely awake.”
“Wanted to get it sorted. In case of Mercia - attacking.” Merlin’s actually slurring his words, and Arthur wonders for a second if he should take him to the new physician, see if he’s actually OK. They’ve skipped sleep before, he’s worried that Merlin’s done something to himself with all that experimental magic. “We’re years behind every other country in battle magic, I’ve got decades to make up.”
“It can wait.” Arthur says firmly. “I don’t want you killing yourself over this.”
“’m alright. Just - magic’s all worn out.”
Arthur allows himself to react a little. “All the more reason to stop then, idiot.” He says, giving Merlin a tap by way of disapproval. “Foolish.”
Merlin smiles at him, warm and tired. “You’d be lost without me.” He says without a hint of mockery.
“Necessary doesn’t make you liked.” Arthur tells him sternly.
They both know it’s not true.
Five
Arthur supposes it was somewhat inevitable, really. He’s closest to Merlin out of everyone he knows, he trusts him the most, loves him the most. When he triumphs, it’s Merlin he wants there to see it, and when he’s defeated or beaten down, it’s Merlin he wants there to help him stand again.
So when he shoves Merlin against the door and kisses him, it’s pretty much inevitable.
They’ve been arguing for nearly half an hour over the school Merlin wants to set up for magic users, here, in the city. The idea is fine in theory, but in practice, it’s too soon, and Arthur keeps saying this, but Merlin’s not listening, and it’s frustrating as hell.
And yet, as Merlin shouts back at him, Arthur thinks, I could love this man, and another part of him snaps back, you already do.
When he finally pulls back, and first takes a moment to think, he’s surprised by the smile on Merlin’s face.
“What took you so long?” He asks, and Arthur laughs.
It really has always been this easy between them.
**
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Kissing, mentions of sex
Word Count: 1583
Prompt: “Arthur/Merlin, please, either friendship or slash. If slash, bottom!Merlin is wonderful and very much preferred.”
Summary: Merlin and Arthur’s friendship, a series of snapshots over the years.
AN: Written for merlin_santa. Here you go, auryn_wren! ^_^ I hope you like it, love!
**
One
The first big test of their friendship is when Arthur finds out about Merlin’s magic. Over the years, since Morgana disappeared and Merlin became part of the fight against magic, there have been hundreds of opportunities for Merlin to tell Arthur about his magic, to share that with him, and the fact that he never did, after all these years, is what nearly breaks them apart. It’s been seven years, Uther is clearly dying and Arthur is king in all but name, and Merlin never once told him, despite ample opportunity.
It’s the length of the silence which nearly destroys them, not the secret it hid.
Arthur grew out of raging in his chambers and throwing things, but sometimes he wishes that he hadn’t. Sometimes, he wishes he was young and silly enough to think that throwing his things around would make him feel better, because he can’t believe that Merlin - Merlin - is that person, the one who’d deceive and betray him for all this time. He could hardly care less about the secret itself, but that Merlin never told him... He wants to hurt Merlin so badly.
It’s for that reason that he rides out, by himself, to a nearby village to check over their grain supply in person rather than simply sending a rider. He needs to clear his head, get some distance. He’ll forgive Merlin, so he’d never forgive himself if he hurt him.
By the time he arrived back in Camelot, Merlin was long gone.
Arthur doesn’t pretend not to be worried. He sends search parties out looking for his manservant, without ever really hoping that he would find him. The thought of Camelot without Merlin has become unbearable to Arthur, and he wants to find him. If he could go out himself, he would, but it’s no longer possible for him just to take time out of his life like that, not coming so soon after he disappeared for a whole day. He’s given too much time to Merlin recently. If he could, he would give more, but he will soon be king of this land and Merlin knows better than anyone else that Arthur has to and will always put Camelot first.
Merlin is brought in three days later, pale and soaked, his eyes dark with defiance and worry. No fear, though - Arthur thinks he might have hit him if he’d looked afraid.
“Where did you go?”
Merlin shrugs. “Away.”
“Are you allergic to specifics, Merlin, or is it just an aversion?”
“I wasn’t anywhere specific.” Merlin shrugs again, insouciant as ever despite his wet, bedraggled look.
“You just decided to run, then?” Arthur asks, standing behind his table, leaning with his hands spread over his maps and reports. “Without a plan or any idea where you’d be going?”
“I just couldn’t be here anymore.” Merlin says quietly and Arthur glared at him.
“You don’t get to decide that, Merlin.” He snaps. “You’ll damn well wait for my decision.”
“I’m not going to-” He catches Arthur’s eye and the fight seeps out of him. “I can’t watch you sentence me.” He says quietly.
Arthur moves round the table and puts one hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “You won’t have to.”
Two
When Uther dies later that year, Arthur waits an appropriate length of time, then brings the country out of official mourning and announces the repeal of the magic laws, all on the same day. It’s hard to think with the uproar going on around him. The Council is in uproar, the Knights are confused, torn between duty to their families and their King, and everyone is frightened and off-balance.
And then in the midst of the madness, Merlin takes a step forward, standing right by Arthur’s shoulder, and puts his hand on Arthur’s arm. “It’s still right, you know.”
“What?” Arthur snaps. “I haven’t got time for mind games right now, Merlin.”
“What you’re thinking. It’s hard, but it’s not wrong.”
Arthur glances up at him. “Well, thanks for your totally unsolicited opinion.”
Merlin grins and steps back, but Arthur can feel the warmth of his hand still on his arm, and it makes it a little easier to make some of these calls.
Three
Arthur sometimes thinks that his entire reign has been nothing but him destroying long-held traditions and ideals. It doesn’t matter that his people are happier, better-fed and more loyal than they’ve ever been in living memory when he has to sit all day in a Council of stony-faced nobles and then eat with an angry castle. The servants serve him with a smile and a deeper than necessary curtsey or bow, but the nobles look at him with such resentment, he wonders whether he’s won one battle and hadn’t noticed that he’d lost a different one when he wasn’t looking.
This thought reappears the night he knights Lancelot. “This man is the finest fighter in the realm, and will be a worthy addition to the Knights of Camelot.” He says clearly over the mutters of the crowd of nobles. Guinevere is smiling broadly, Merlin in his Sorcerer’s robes looks like all of his Midwinter gifts have come early, but the rest of the nobles are giving Lancelot looks of frank distaste. “Anyone who disagrees is welcome to take it up with me - and only me.”
With that, he helps Lancelot up and pretends not to notice that the cheer is led almost exclusively by the servants.
When the feast is over and it’s finally polite for Arthur to withdraw, he sits and stares moodily into the fire. Merlin kneels at his feet, taking his boots off for him, and Arthur kicks out at him lightly, just to be contrary.
“You don’t have to do that anymore.”
“I’m a nice person.”
“I happen to know for a fact that you’re lying.” Arthur goes back to staring into the fire. “Tell me it’s wrong to do everything I’m doing. Tell me I shouldn’t have repealed the magic laws and that peasants belong with the cows not in the court.”
“I can’t tell you any of that.” Merlin says quietly. “I can only tell you that this is the noblest thing I have ever seen you do. Slaying dragons and facing griffins is nothing next to this.”
“Rubbish, slaying dragons and facing griffins is the stuff of legends.” Arthur snorts.
“You never had to face their parents the next day.” Merlin points out. “You didn’t have to live with them all the time.”
Arthur sighs and stretches out. “Maybe so.”
“If I were to tell you that you were wrong, what would you say to me?” Merlin asks.
“I would tell you all the reasons I was right.” Arthur said sleepily.
“There’s your answer.” Merlin stood. “C’mon, your manservant’s not coming tonight. Bed, Arthur.”
“Always feel better after talking to you, Merlin.” Arthur said, following Merlin to the bed. “Why is that?”
“Magic.” Merlin says with a grin, and Arthur falls asleep with a smile on his face.
Four
It’s hardly all one-sided - Arthur, after all, is not the one who tends to overthink everything. That’s all on Merlin. Arthur’s become very, very good, over the years, at stopping Merlin from his more impressive flights of idiocy. The second night he catches Merlin skipping sleep to work on a spell shield for the army, he puts his foot down.
“I need you functional, Merlin, you idiot.” He says as he supports a barely-awake Merlin down the stairs. “That doesn’t mean barely awake.”
“Wanted to get it sorted. In case of Mercia - attacking.” Merlin’s actually slurring his words, and Arthur wonders for a second if he should take him to the new physician, see if he’s actually OK. They’ve skipped sleep before, he’s worried that Merlin’s done something to himself with all that experimental magic. “We’re years behind every other country in battle magic, I’ve got decades to make up.”
“It can wait.” Arthur says firmly. “I don’t want you killing yourself over this.”
“’m alright. Just - magic’s all worn out.”
Arthur allows himself to react a little. “All the more reason to stop then, idiot.” He says, giving Merlin a tap by way of disapproval. “Foolish.”
Merlin smiles at him, warm and tired. “You’d be lost without me.” He says without a hint of mockery.
“Necessary doesn’t make you liked.” Arthur tells him sternly.
They both know it’s not true.
Five
Arthur supposes it was somewhat inevitable, really. He’s closest to Merlin out of everyone he knows, he trusts him the most, loves him the most. When he triumphs, it’s Merlin he wants there to see it, and when he’s defeated or beaten down, it’s Merlin he wants there to help him stand again.
So when he shoves Merlin against the door and kisses him, it’s pretty much inevitable.
They’ve been arguing for nearly half an hour over the school Merlin wants to set up for magic users, here, in the city. The idea is fine in theory, but in practice, it’s too soon, and Arthur keeps saying this, but Merlin’s not listening, and it’s frustrating as hell.
And yet, as Merlin shouts back at him, Arthur thinks, I could love this man, and another part of him snaps back, you already do.
When he finally pulls back, and first takes a moment to think, he’s surprised by the smile on Merlin’s face.
“What took you so long?” He asks, and Arthur laughs.
It really has always been this easy between them.
**