The Manservant's New Clothes for lawgoddess
Title: The Manservant’s New Clothes
Recipient:lawgoddess
Author: ext-4137531
Rating: Mature (just)
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur
Summary: Arthur wants to propose to Merlin, but Merlin can't be his consort with those clothes. So Arthur enlists Gwen and Morgana to perform a makeover on his rakish manservant only to have Merlin evade their every attempt.
Oh well, as the saying goes: if you want a job done right, best do it yourself.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3408
Author's Notes: Dear lawgoddess,
Thank you for your lovely prompts! Wishing you the happiest of holiday seasons (especially in current circumstances). I wrote this in the midsts of a covid infection, so please do forgive any errors, and I hope you enjoy this none the less.
A special thanks to the fantastic schweet_heart for making sense of my words, you’re amazing! And thank you to the mods for running this holiday fest and all their hard work modding the community throughout the year. 💗
Disclaimer:Merlin is owned by the BBC and Shine. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. Don't send us to the dungeons.
Arthur stared out the long window of his chambers and down at the courtyard below. He smiled fondly as he spotted Merlin hurrying across it, and then guffawed as Merlin almost tripped over his own feet in his haste. The wind whipped at his hair and ratty old coat and that awful piece of cloth he insisted on wearing around his neck. In Arthur’s opinion, it should be against the laws of Camelot for Merlin to keep his neck concealed like that. But on the other hand, he knew from experience that when Merlin forgot to wear it, or it got lost somewhere in Arthur’s chambers after Arthur’s flung it off in a fit of passion, he found it difficult to focus on the things that he should be focusing on. So perhaps it’s for the best that it’s not.
He still wished that Merlin would take a little more pride in his appearance. He was the Crown Prince’s servant, and that title held status, especially amongst the other servants, but Arthur didn’t think Merlin had even realised it. Either way, he should be dressing in a manner more befitting his station. Especially since Arthur would like to make Merlin his consort one day.
The question was, how? How could he get Merlin to give up the neckerchiefs, the baggy breeches, the scruffy boots and beaten-up jacket? He had tried hiding Merlin’s neckerchief once, with the aforementioned disastrous results, only to have Merlin produce another the next day. And one time his shirt had gotten ‘lost’ (Arthur had given it to another servant) and Merlin had been so distraught at the loss that Arthur had felt guilty. He ended up buying him another shirt cut in the same style in an expensive purple linen. Merlin had actually liked that replacement. But it would take forever for him to replace Merlin’s clothing by stealth. Arthur would simply order him to get new clothes, if he thought it would be effective. If only Merlin wasn’t as stubborn as a mule, with magic to boot.
Arthur rubbed at his lip with his thumb ring. Surely there was a way. He’d have to give it more thought.
***
“What’s wrong, Arthur?” Morgana asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked up from her embroidery.
It was a cold day and snow had enveloped the kingdom, making it nearly impossible to get out of the citadel. Arthur was feeling restless. They were in the library and he had been reading a book-one of his favourites-about a knight’s quest, almost fifty years ago. At least, he had been, until he got distracted thinking about Merlin.
“Nothing,” he said instinctively.
“Surely it’s something. You’re pouting.” She laughed.
“Am not.”
“Yes, you are. Come on. You know you’re going to tell me eventually,” she wheedled.
“It’s Merlin,” he said.
Morgana laughed again. “When is it not? What have you done now?”
“Why do you think I’ve done something?”
“Well, he’s not here,” she pointed out, nodding over towards Gwen, who was sewing nearby. “Usually he would be.”
“Gaius needed him this afternoon.”
“So you’re pouting about that?”
“Of course not! And for the last time, I don’t pout.” Morgana looked at him skeptically. “If you must know,” Arthur continued, ignoring her. “I’m trying to figure out how to get him to wear something decent for once.”
“I heard you like him better in nothing at all,” grinned Morgana slyly.
“Morgana!”
She shook her head and smiled again. “So, what were you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I’d have to get him to agree to it first, and he’ll never do that.”
“We could help, couldn’t we, Gwen?” said Morgana. “I can be very persuasive.”
Arthur snorted. “Good luck. I already tried to get him to stop wearing those accursed neckerchiefs and he just produced another.”
She reached out and patted Arthur on the knee. “Just leave it with us.”
“Gods help me!” said Arthur.
***
Something strange was happening. Merlin couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was; he just had a funny feeling about things. It felt as though he was being followed. But why and by whom?
He ducked into an alcove and pulled the curtain across.
“Where is he?” came a voice.
“I swear I saw him come down this way.”
“Well, he’s not here now.”
Merlin peeked through a tiny gap in the curtain as Gwen and Morgana passed by. How strange.
He slipped out and started to head in the opposite direction.
Very puzzling indeed.
***
The next day, Gaius had gone out to get a book from Geoffrey in the library, leaving Merlin in charge of the plethora of potions, poultices and pastes that they made on a regular basis.
He sighed as he let his magic stir the potion that was gently heating over a flame, wondering just how long Gaius was going to be. The list of things he had to do was almost the length of his arm, and it was already late afternoon.
Merlin was startled when the door opened all of a sudden and he let go of his magic.
Morgana marched into the room.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding, hmm?”
“Hiding?” he said, confused, as he hurried to pour the heated potion into a clean bottle and sealed it with a cork.
“Tell me Merlin, you wouldn’t have been avoiding me, would you?” she asked with false sweetness.
Merlin kept half an eye on her as he gathered up the various pots and bottles he’d been preparing and grabbed his bag.
“No,” he lied. “Of course not. Why would I be avoiding you?”
Truth was, he had been avoiding Morgana. Gwen too. They seemed to be chasing after him for something and he was sure it wasn’t for anything good. Besides he didn’t have time to be roped into whatever it was they were trying to corner him for.
“It’s just, as soon as you see me, you turn and run the other way. Surely I’m not as terrifying as all that?”
“Probably just a coincidence,” he told her. “I’ve been very busy.”
“Well, since we’re both here now. Why don’t you sit down and have a nice chat?”
Merlin scowled and slowly started to put the potions into his bag.
“I-um, I’m not sure why you’d need to speak with me, my lady.”
“It’s about a little matter involving your clothes.”
“My clothes?” Merlin squeaked, pressing his hand to his chest, as though Morgana might rip them from him at any moment-he wouldn’t put it past her.
“Oh, don’t look like that. I’m not going to tear your clothes from you; I rather feel that’s Arthur’s department,” she said slyly.
Merlin felt his cheeks flushing as he looked away. It was all very well to know that Arthur was his, but much more embarrassing to know that the whole castle seemed aware of it too.
“Tell me, Merlin… when was the last time you bought new clothes?”
“Um, I got my boots resoled last winter?” he said, looking up at her before continuing to put the bottles and jars into his bag.
“I don’t think that really counts, does it?” Morgana asked. She made her way towards the workbench, and Merlin hurried to close his bag with alarm. He hoisted it over his shoulder, sensing that he was in some kind of trouble, even if he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. “You know what you need, Merlin. You need a-”
“Sorry, Morgana. Got to deliver all these medicines for Gaius!” he called as he hurried out from around the bench and out of Morgana’s reach. He bolted for the door and escaped down the stairs.
***
The next day, Gwen and Morgana’s weird behaviour continued to know no bounds. Merlin was returning from the armoury with Arthur’s new guardbrace and freshly-sharpened sword when he almost dropped them both as he heard a yell.
“There he is!” called Gwen.
“Don’t let him get away,” said Morgana, as they both started to run towards him.
Merlin eyes widened as he glanced over his shoulder, not sure if he should stay or go.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, backing away from them. “What’s happening? Why are you…?”
He held out his free hand in an attempt to keep them both at bay.
“It’s nothing,” said Gwen reassuringly. “We just need a few things from you.”
“Things? What things?”
“Hold still,” Morgana told him as they circled him. Gwen produced a measuring tape from her apron.
“Hey, what’s going on!?” he asked as Morgana lifted his arm and Gwen measured. Morgana pushed his legs apart and Gwen measured the length of his leg. “He-EY! Watch it!”
“Perfect,” said Gwen as Morgana wrote something down on a piece of parchment.
“What are you two…? Why are you…?”
“Don’t you worry your pretty head about things,” said Morgana, patting his cheek as she passed the parchment to Gwen. “We’ll take care of things.”
“Take care of-” But as soon as they had appeared, they were scurrying off, leaving a dazed and confused Merlin behind. “-what?”
***
Merlin was left more confused than ever by Gwen and Morgana’s behaviour. Why were they so obsessed with what he was wearing?
His clothes were fine just as they were. They were clean with no holes-he knew how to repair his own clothing-so he wasn’t sure what the problem was. Honestly, they were getting as bad as Arthur.
At least it was quiet out in the stables, and he could finally get on with things in peace.
He shovelled out the last of the dirty straw and fetched a bale of clean hay, before using a rake to distribute it in the stall. Hengroen whinnied and nudged him in the shoulder with his nose, almost knocking Merlin clean over.
“All right, all right, keep your hair on,” Merlin said. “Honestly. You’re just like your owner. No patience, the pair of you. There. All done.”
“Perfect!” came a voice, startling Merlin again for goodness knows how many times in as many days. “That means you can come with us!”
Merlin dodged out of Gwen’s grasp. He was normally quite difficult to anger, but this was starting to go too far.
“Gwen! What’s going on? I demand to know!” he said, very nearly stomping his foot as he folded his arms and stood his ground. “You two have been following me around for days, sneaking up on me, talking about clothes! Enough is enough.”
Gwen looked contrite, and Merlin felt a prick of sympathy. “We’re sorry, Merlin. We were just trying to help!”
“Help? What does any of that have to do with helping?” he asked, feeling more confused than ever.
Morgana stepped forward. “It’s my fault,” she said. “We just wanted to get you some new clothes.”
“New clothes?” said Merlin. “Why would I need new clothes? The ones I have are perfectly fine!”
“But don’t you want to look nice for Arthur?” Morgana asked him.
“You would look so lovely in a dark crimson, or blue velvet. It would really bring out your eyes,” said Gwen with a smile.
Merlin raised his eyebrows. “Look nice for Arthur? Why would I need to look nice for Arthur? Look, I can see now that you thought you were trying to be nice. But it’s not necessary. My clothes are fine.”
“But, we could-” Morgana started to say.
“No, thanks.”
“If you’d just-” said Gwen.
“Gwen,” Merlin said, warningly. “You know I love you. But it’s still a no. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I have chores to do.”
***
Arthur watched from his desk as Merlin paced back and forth across his chamber floor. He’d been ranting now for a good five minutes, which was approaching some kind of record.
“And,” said Merlin indignantly as he threw his jacket over the back of a chair, “then they said they were trying to make me look nice. For you! After having chased me all over the castle for the last few days. I wasn’t even safe making potions for Gaius. Morgana cornered me there.”
“Must’ve been terrible,” Arthur mumbled guiltily, busying himself with tidying the parchment on his desk.
“Why would I need to look nice for you!?” Merlin asked.
“Well…” said Arthur cautiously, not wanting to cause a fight, but wanting to be honest. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to be a bit more… put together.”
Merlin walked over towards the bed.
“Put together?”
“Well, you are my manservant,” Arthur said. “You should look the part.”
“Arthur… we’ve talked about this before,” Merlin told him. “I said no then and I’m saying no now, too.”
“But why not? I don’t understand. You should be honoured and want to look nice.”
Merlin looked up from where he was folding down the bedcovers. “Honoured? Is that what you call it?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, well,” said Merlin, abandoning his bed preparations and going back to the table. “If I’m embarrassing to you, I guess I’ll just say good night, sire.”
“Merlin!” called Arthur. “Come on, don’t be like that!”
“Like what?” said Merlin pulling on his jacket. “Am I being an embarrassment again?”
Arthur gets up from his desk. “Merlin… please you’re being ridiculous.”
“Oh, now I’m being ridiculous, am I? Well, good night, my lor-”
“Merlin!” Arthur barked, making his way over to him in a few strides. “If you’d just stop talking for a moment and listen to me.”
Merlin met his eyes with a cool glare and pursed his lips.
“Of course you’re not an embarrassment to me,” Arthur said softly. “You’d never been an embarrassment to me. I mean, well. Sometimes you are a bit of an idiot. But it’s not like that. You know it’s not.”
He placed his hand on Merlin’s chin and smoothed his thumb over Merlin’s cheekbone.
The look in Merlin’s eyes softened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“I know, Arthur,” he said quietly. “But-”
“Shh,” said Arthur, leaning in and kissing his lips gently, lingeringly. “Let’s talk about it later. Come to bed with me.”
Merlin smiled. “All right then.”
And Arthur led him backwards across the room towards the bed.
***
Arthur frowned and blinked, sitting up, his eyes adjusting to the early morning light. He was sure he’d just heard something.
There it was. That sound again.
He slipped his hand down the side of the mattress, feeling for the dagger he always concealed there, and cast his eyes over Merlin. He was still sleeping soundly, sprawled over the bed on his stomach and dead to the world. No need to alarm him yet.
There was creaking noise and some shuffling and hushed whispering. Arthur leaned forward to see around the curtains of his bed as someone stumbled into the room. He was about to spring into action when he caught a glimpse of Morgana in the doorway. She held a finger up to her lips and winked at him, as the man-George, was it?-started to creep around the room.
Arthur watched him with bated breath as he tiptoed to the wardrobe and opened it to a loud squeak.
Merlin stirred in his sleep.
“Arthur?” he slurred.
George glanced over at them with alarm.
Arthur placed a hand on Merlin’s back and he hummed happily. Arthur continued to watch as George carefully started to look through the clothing, holding pieces towards the window no doubt to identify which ones were Merlin’s-the ones that Morgana had instructed him to fetch.
Merlin stirred again, yawning and stretching as he rolled onto his back.
George crept closer to the bed to pick up the clothing they’d discarded rather hurriedly last night, only to cry out as he tripped over Merlin’s boots.
Merlin’s eyes opened and Arthur panicked and swooped in to give him a kiss. He needed to keep Merlin distracted.
“Arthur,” he murmured against his lips, “what was that?”
“What was what?” Arthur replied, kissing him again.
“I heard a-” And again. “Arthur- I-”
Arthur slipped his hand under the covers. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Oh!” said Merlin, as Arthur wrapped his hand around his morning excitement. “Oh. Yeah, that’s-that’s- Fuck, Arthur-”
Arthur grinned and kissed him again. Distraction though it was, it was certainly a fun one. He continued working his hand, enjoying the noises and looks that played out on Merlin’s face.
He glanced up as he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, to see George pulling a face that was a mix between disgust and horror as he crept out of his chambers.
He gasped as he felt Merlin pull him close, batting Arthur’s hand away to wrap his hand around the both of them.
“Ah, Gods! Merlin!” he called out, laughing to himself as he heard the door click closed.
For all that Merlin’s hands were useless when it came to keeping his room tidied, they were not lacking when they carried out these kind of activities, and he proceeded to use all kinds of twists and tricks until they were both coming, first Merlin, and then Arthur with a cry on their lips.
Arthur collapsed on top of him, before rolling off to the side to catch his breath.
“That was-” he panted.
“Yeah,” Merlin agreed.
***
Finally, after a few minutes laying around, Merlin yawned and stretched his long, lean body. Arthur glanced over, almost tempted to go again.
“I suppose I’d better get you your breakfast, Your Majesty,” Merlin said, irreverently.
Arthur chuckled. “Yes, hop to it,” he said.
Merlin batted at him with his hand and swung his legs out of bed. He rubbed at his eyes and stood up, looking around the room with confusion.
“D’you know what happened to my clothes?” he asked.
“Hmm?” said Arthur, forcing himself to look at Merlin’s face, rather than… other parts of him.
“I said, have you seen my clothes?”
“Oh, um…”
Merlin rolled his eyes.
“Nevermind, I’ll get some clean ones,” Merlin said, making his way to the wardrobe.
“Wait!” said Arthur, jumping out of bed and pressing his hand against the wardrobe’s door.
Merlin frowned at him.
“Arthur, what’s wrong with you? Move your hand. I need to get some clothes.”
“What if I prefer you like that?” said Arthur with a leering grin.
Shoving him aside, Merlin wrenched the door open. “Now who’s being ridiculous?” he muttered.
His words slowly petered out as he looked at the clothing in the wardrobe next to Arthur’s.
He pulled out a long crimson tunic and stared at it.
“What’s this?” he asked. “I don’t remember you having anything like this.”
He flicked through the other items hanging in the wardrobe.
“None of these are yours…”
Arthur swallowed and bit his lip. Confession time.
“No, they’re not. They’re for you.”
“Arthur… I thought we talked about this!”
“I know, I know. Look, I’m sorry. You don’t have to wear them. You know that I love you, old clothes and all. Even those rags you call neckerchiefs. I fell in love with you in them, after all. Just forget about these.”
Merlin started laughing, bending double.
“What’s so funny?”
“Well,” Merlin said, breathlessly, wiping away tears. “I don’t really have a choice, do I? It’s either wear these, or go about my business naked.”
“Now there’s an idea,” said Arthur, approvingly.
Merlin elbowed him in the side. “I guess I’ll wear your stupid fancy clothes.”
“Only if you want to,” Arthur said. “I can get you something more like your own clothes. We could get George to do it.”
“It’s fine. I’ll wear them,” Merlin said, pulling out a pair of smallclothes and breeches to go with the tunic.
Arthur watched with a quiet satisfaction as Merlin dressed, tugging on a pair of breeches himself.
“How do I look?” he asked, turning himself around. “Am I satisfactory?”
Arthur looked his fill, admiring how handsome and smart Merlin looked in his new clothes. The tunic was perfect, cut to fit his slender figure and shoulders that had broadened with age and work, and the collar of the tunic, which hugged his neck perfectly, was embroidered with a golden dragon motif.
Reaching out, Arthur took Merlin’s hand and reeled him in, unable to take his eyes off his manservant dressed the way he’d always wanted.
“You always are,” he said.
Recipient:lawgoddess
Author: ext-4137531
Rating: Mature (just)
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur
Summary: Arthur wants to propose to Merlin, but Merlin can't be his consort with those clothes. So Arthur enlists Gwen and Morgana to perform a makeover on his rakish manservant only to have Merlin evade their every attempt.
Oh well, as the saying goes: if you want a job done right, best do it yourself.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3408
Author's Notes: Dear lawgoddess,
Thank you for your lovely prompts! Wishing you the happiest of holiday seasons (especially in current circumstances). I wrote this in the midsts of a covid infection, so please do forgive any errors, and I hope you enjoy this none the less.
A special thanks to the fantastic schweet_heart for making sense of my words, you’re amazing! And thank you to the mods for running this holiday fest and all their hard work modding the community throughout the year. 💗
Disclaimer:Merlin is owned by the BBC and Shine. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made. Don't send us to the dungeons.
Arthur stared out the long window of his chambers and down at the courtyard below. He smiled fondly as he spotted Merlin hurrying across it, and then guffawed as Merlin almost tripped over his own feet in his haste. The wind whipped at his hair and ratty old coat and that awful piece of cloth he insisted on wearing around his neck. In Arthur’s opinion, it should be against the laws of Camelot for Merlin to keep his neck concealed like that. But on the other hand, he knew from experience that when Merlin forgot to wear it, or it got lost somewhere in Arthur’s chambers after Arthur’s flung it off in a fit of passion, he found it difficult to focus on the things that he should be focusing on. So perhaps it’s for the best that it’s not.
He still wished that Merlin would take a little more pride in his appearance. He was the Crown Prince’s servant, and that title held status, especially amongst the other servants, but Arthur didn’t think Merlin had even realised it. Either way, he should be dressing in a manner more befitting his station. Especially since Arthur would like to make Merlin his consort one day.
The question was, how? How could he get Merlin to give up the neckerchiefs, the baggy breeches, the scruffy boots and beaten-up jacket? He had tried hiding Merlin’s neckerchief once, with the aforementioned disastrous results, only to have Merlin produce another the next day. And one time his shirt had gotten ‘lost’ (Arthur had given it to another servant) and Merlin had been so distraught at the loss that Arthur had felt guilty. He ended up buying him another shirt cut in the same style in an expensive purple linen. Merlin had actually liked that replacement. But it would take forever for him to replace Merlin’s clothing by stealth. Arthur would simply order him to get new clothes, if he thought it would be effective. If only Merlin wasn’t as stubborn as a mule, with magic to boot.
Arthur rubbed at his lip with his thumb ring. Surely there was a way. He’d have to give it more thought.
***
“What’s wrong, Arthur?” Morgana asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked up from her embroidery.
It was a cold day and snow had enveloped the kingdom, making it nearly impossible to get out of the citadel. Arthur was feeling restless. They were in the library and he had been reading a book-one of his favourites-about a knight’s quest, almost fifty years ago. At least, he had been, until he got distracted thinking about Merlin.
“Nothing,” he said instinctively.
“Surely it’s something. You’re pouting.” She laughed.
“Am not.”
“Yes, you are. Come on. You know you’re going to tell me eventually,” she wheedled.
“It’s Merlin,” he said.
Morgana laughed again. “When is it not? What have you done now?”
“Why do you think I’ve done something?”
“Well, he’s not here,” she pointed out, nodding over towards Gwen, who was sewing nearby. “Usually he would be.”
“Gaius needed him this afternoon.”
“So you’re pouting about that?”
“Of course not! And for the last time, I don’t pout.” Morgana looked at him skeptically. “If you must know,” Arthur continued, ignoring her. “I’m trying to figure out how to get him to wear something decent for once.”
“I heard you like him better in nothing at all,” grinned Morgana slyly.
“Morgana!”
She shook her head and smiled again. “So, what were you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I’d have to get him to agree to it first, and he’ll never do that.”
“We could help, couldn’t we, Gwen?” said Morgana. “I can be very persuasive.”
Arthur snorted. “Good luck. I already tried to get him to stop wearing those accursed neckerchiefs and he just produced another.”
She reached out and patted Arthur on the knee. “Just leave it with us.”
“Gods help me!” said Arthur.
***
Something strange was happening. Merlin couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was; he just had a funny feeling about things. It felt as though he was being followed. But why and by whom?
He ducked into an alcove and pulled the curtain across.
“Where is he?” came a voice.
“I swear I saw him come down this way.”
“Well, he’s not here now.”
Merlin peeked through a tiny gap in the curtain as Gwen and Morgana passed by. How strange.
He slipped out and started to head in the opposite direction.
Very puzzling indeed.
***
The next day, Gaius had gone out to get a book from Geoffrey in the library, leaving Merlin in charge of the plethora of potions, poultices and pastes that they made on a regular basis.
He sighed as he let his magic stir the potion that was gently heating over a flame, wondering just how long Gaius was going to be. The list of things he had to do was almost the length of his arm, and it was already late afternoon.
Merlin was startled when the door opened all of a sudden and he let go of his magic.
Morgana marched into the room.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding, hmm?”
“Hiding?” he said, confused, as he hurried to pour the heated potion into a clean bottle and sealed it with a cork.
“Tell me Merlin, you wouldn’t have been avoiding me, would you?” she asked with false sweetness.
Merlin kept half an eye on her as he gathered up the various pots and bottles he’d been preparing and grabbed his bag.
“No,” he lied. “Of course not. Why would I be avoiding you?”
Truth was, he had been avoiding Morgana. Gwen too. They seemed to be chasing after him for something and he was sure it wasn’t for anything good. Besides he didn’t have time to be roped into whatever it was they were trying to corner him for.
“It’s just, as soon as you see me, you turn and run the other way. Surely I’m not as terrifying as all that?”
“Probably just a coincidence,” he told her. “I’ve been very busy.”
“Well, since we’re both here now. Why don’t you sit down and have a nice chat?”
Merlin scowled and slowly started to put the potions into his bag.
“I-um, I’m not sure why you’d need to speak with me, my lady.”
“It’s about a little matter involving your clothes.”
“My clothes?” Merlin squeaked, pressing his hand to his chest, as though Morgana might rip them from him at any moment-he wouldn’t put it past her.
“Oh, don’t look like that. I’m not going to tear your clothes from you; I rather feel that’s Arthur’s department,” she said slyly.
Merlin felt his cheeks flushing as he looked away. It was all very well to know that Arthur was his, but much more embarrassing to know that the whole castle seemed aware of it too.
“Tell me, Merlin… when was the last time you bought new clothes?”
“Um, I got my boots resoled last winter?” he said, looking up at her before continuing to put the bottles and jars into his bag.
“I don’t think that really counts, does it?” Morgana asked. She made her way towards the workbench, and Merlin hurried to close his bag with alarm. He hoisted it over his shoulder, sensing that he was in some kind of trouble, even if he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. “You know what you need, Merlin. You need a-”
“Sorry, Morgana. Got to deliver all these medicines for Gaius!” he called as he hurried out from around the bench and out of Morgana’s reach. He bolted for the door and escaped down the stairs.
***
The next day, Gwen and Morgana’s weird behaviour continued to know no bounds. Merlin was returning from the armoury with Arthur’s new guardbrace and freshly-sharpened sword when he almost dropped them both as he heard a yell.
“There he is!” called Gwen.
“Don’t let him get away,” said Morgana, as they both started to run towards him.
Merlin eyes widened as he glanced over his shoulder, not sure if he should stay or go.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, backing away from them. “What’s happening? Why are you…?”
He held out his free hand in an attempt to keep them both at bay.
“It’s nothing,” said Gwen reassuringly. “We just need a few things from you.”
“Things? What things?”
“Hold still,” Morgana told him as they circled him. Gwen produced a measuring tape from her apron.
“Hey, what’s going on!?” he asked as Morgana lifted his arm and Gwen measured. Morgana pushed his legs apart and Gwen measured the length of his leg. “He-EY! Watch it!”
“Perfect,” said Gwen as Morgana wrote something down on a piece of parchment.
“What are you two…? Why are you…?”
“Don’t you worry your pretty head about things,” said Morgana, patting his cheek as she passed the parchment to Gwen. “We’ll take care of things.”
“Take care of-” But as soon as they had appeared, they were scurrying off, leaving a dazed and confused Merlin behind. “-what?”
***
Merlin was left more confused than ever by Gwen and Morgana’s behaviour. Why were they so obsessed with what he was wearing?
His clothes were fine just as they were. They were clean with no holes-he knew how to repair his own clothing-so he wasn’t sure what the problem was. Honestly, they were getting as bad as Arthur.
At least it was quiet out in the stables, and he could finally get on with things in peace.
He shovelled out the last of the dirty straw and fetched a bale of clean hay, before using a rake to distribute it in the stall. Hengroen whinnied and nudged him in the shoulder with his nose, almost knocking Merlin clean over.
“All right, all right, keep your hair on,” Merlin said. “Honestly. You’re just like your owner. No patience, the pair of you. There. All done.”
“Perfect!” came a voice, startling Merlin again for goodness knows how many times in as many days. “That means you can come with us!”
Merlin dodged out of Gwen’s grasp. He was normally quite difficult to anger, but this was starting to go too far.
“Gwen! What’s going on? I demand to know!” he said, very nearly stomping his foot as he folded his arms and stood his ground. “You two have been following me around for days, sneaking up on me, talking about clothes! Enough is enough.”
Gwen looked contrite, and Merlin felt a prick of sympathy. “We’re sorry, Merlin. We were just trying to help!”
“Help? What does any of that have to do with helping?” he asked, feeling more confused than ever.
Morgana stepped forward. “It’s my fault,” she said. “We just wanted to get you some new clothes.”
“New clothes?” said Merlin. “Why would I need new clothes? The ones I have are perfectly fine!”
“But don’t you want to look nice for Arthur?” Morgana asked him.
“You would look so lovely in a dark crimson, or blue velvet. It would really bring out your eyes,” said Gwen with a smile.
Merlin raised his eyebrows. “Look nice for Arthur? Why would I need to look nice for Arthur? Look, I can see now that you thought you were trying to be nice. But it’s not necessary. My clothes are fine.”
“But, we could-” Morgana started to say.
“No, thanks.”
“If you’d just-” said Gwen.
“Gwen,” Merlin said, warningly. “You know I love you. But it’s still a no. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I have chores to do.”
***
Arthur watched from his desk as Merlin paced back and forth across his chamber floor. He’d been ranting now for a good five minutes, which was approaching some kind of record.
“And,” said Merlin indignantly as he threw his jacket over the back of a chair, “then they said they were trying to make me look nice. For you! After having chased me all over the castle for the last few days. I wasn’t even safe making potions for Gaius. Morgana cornered me there.”
“Must’ve been terrible,” Arthur mumbled guiltily, busying himself with tidying the parchment on his desk.
“Why would I need to look nice for you!?” Merlin asked.
“Well…” said Arthur cautiously, not wanting to cause a fight, but wanting to be honest. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to be a bit more… put together.”
Merlin walked over towards the bed.
“Put together?”
“Well, you are my manservant,” Arthur said. “You should look the part.”
“Arthur… we’ve talked about this before,” Merlin told him. “I said no then and I’m saying no now, too.”
“But why not? I don’t understand. You should be honoured and want to look nice.”
Merlin looked up from where he was folding down the bedcovers. “Honoured? Is that what you call it?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, well,” said Merlin, abandoning his bed preparations and going back to the table. “If I’m embarrassing to you, I guess I’ll just say good night, sire.”
“Merlin!” called Arthur. “Come on, don’t be like that!”
“Like what?” said Merlin pulling on his jacket. “Am I being an embarrassment again?”
Arthur gets up from his desk. “Merlin… please you’re being ridiculous.”
“Oh, now I’m being ridiculous, am I? Well, good night, my lor-”
“Merlin!” Arthur barked, making his way over to him in a few strides. “If you’d just stop talking for a moment and listen to me.”
Merlin met his eyes with a cool glare and pursed his lips.
“Of course you’re not an embarrassment to me,” Arthur said softly. “You’d never been an embarrassment to me. I mean, well. Sometimes you are a bit of an idiot. But it’s not like that. You know it’s not.”
He placed his hand on Merlin’s chin and smoothed his thumb over Merlin’s cheekbone.
The look in Merlin’s eyes softened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“I know, Arthur,” he said quietly. “But-”
“Shh,” said Arthur, leaning in and kissing his lips gently, lingeringly. “Let’s talk about it later. Come to bed with me.”
Merlin smiled. “All right then.”
And Arthur led him backwards across the room towards the bed.
***
Arthur frowned and blinked, sitting up, his eyes adjusting to the early morning light. He was sure he’d just heard something.
There it was. That sound again.
He slipped his hand down the side of the mattress, feeling for the dagger he always concealed there, and cast his eyes over Merlin. He was still sleeping soundly, sprawled over the bed on his stomach and dead to the world. No need to alarm him yet.
There was creaking noise and some shuffling and hushed whispering. Arthur leaned forward to see around the curtains of his bed as someone stumbled into the room. He was about to spring into action when he caught a glimpse of Morgana in the doorway. She held a finger up to her lips and winked at him, as the man-George, was it?-started to creep around the room.
Arthur watched him with bated breath as he tiptoed to the wardrobe and opened it to a loud squeak.
Merlin stirred in his sleep.
“Arthur?” he slurred.
George glanced over at them with alarm.
Arthur placed a hand on Merlin’s back and he hummed happily. Arthur continued to watch as George carefully started to look through the clothing, holding pieces towards the window no doubt to identify which ones were Merlin’s-the ones that Morgana had instructed him to fetch.
Merlin stirred again, yawning and stretching as he rolled onto his back.
George crept closer to the bed to pick up the clothing they’d discarded rather hurriedly last night, only to cry out as he tripped over Merlin’s boots.
Merlin’s eyes opened and Arthur panicked and swooped in to give him a kiss. He needed to keep Merlin distracted.
“Arthur,” he murmured against his lips, “what was that?”
“What was what?” Arthur replied, kissing him again.
“I heard a-” And again. “Arthur- I-”
Arthur slipped his hand under the covers. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Oh!” said Merlin, as Arthur wrapped his hand around his morning excitement. “Oh. Yeah, that’s-that’s- Fuck, Arthur-”
Arthur grinned and kissed him again. Distraction though it was, it was certainly a fun one. He continued working his hand, enjoying the noises and looks that played out on Merlin’s face.
He glanced up as he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, to see George pulling a face that was a mix between disgust and horror as he crept out of his chambers.
He gasped as he felt Merlin pull him close, batting Arthur’s hand away to wrap his hand around the both of them.
“Ah, Gods! Merlin!” he called out, laughing to himself as he heard the door click closed.
For all that Merlin’s hands were useless when it came to keeping his room tidied, they were not lacking when they carried out these kind of activities, and he proceeded to use all kinds of twists and tricks until they were both coming, first Merlin, and then Arthur with a cry on their lips.
Arthur collapsed on top of him, before rolling off to the side to catch his breath.
“That was-” he panted.
“Yeah,” Merlin agreed.
***
Finally, after a few minutes laying around, Merlin yawned and stretched his long, lean body. Arthur glanced over, almost tempted to go again.
“I suppose I’d better get you your breakfast, Your Majesty,” Merlin said, irreverently.
Arthur chuckled. “Yes, hop to it,” he said.
Merlin batted at him with his hand and swung his legs out of bed. He rubbed at his eyes and stood up, looking around the room with confusion.
“D’you know what happened to my clothes?” he asked.
“Hmm?” said Arthur, forcing himself to look at Merlin’s face, rather than… other parts of him.
“I said, have you seen my clothes?”
“Oh, um…”
Merlin rolled his eyes.
“Nevermind, I’ll get some clean ones,” Merlin said, making his way to the wardrobe.
“Wait!” said Arthur, jumping out of bed and pressing his hand against the wardrobe’s door.
Merlin frowned at him.
“Arthur, what’s wrong with you? Move your hand. I need to get some clothes.”
“What if I prefer you like that?” said Arthur with a leering grin.
Shoving him aside, Merlin wrenched the door open. “Now who’s being ridiculous?” he muttered.
His words slowly petered out as he looked at the clothing in the wardrobe next to Arthur’s.
He pulled out a long crimson tunic and stared at it.
“What’s this?” he asked. “I don’t remember you having anything like this.”
He flicked through the other items hanging in the wardrobe.
“None of these are yours…”
Arthur swallowed and bit his lip. Confession time.
“No, they’re not. They’re for you.”
“Arthur… I thought we talked about this!”
“I know, I know. Look, I’m sorry. You don’t have to wear them. You know that I love you, old clothes and all. Even those rags you call neckerchiefs. I fell in love with you in them, after all. Just forget about these.”
Merlin started laughing, bending double.
“What’s so funny?”
“Well,” Merlin said, breathlessly, wiping away tears. “I don’t really have a choice, do I? It’s either wear these, or go about my business naked.”
“Now there’s an idea,” said Arthur, approvingly.
Merlin elbowed him in the side. “I guess I’ll wear your stupid fancy clothes.”
“Only if you want to,” Arthur said. “I can get you something more like your own clothes. We could get George to do it.”
“It’s fine. I’ll wear them,” Merlin said, pulling out a pair of smallclothes and breeches to go with the tunic.
Arthur watched with a quiet satisfaction as Merlin dressed, tugging on a pair of breeches himself.
“How do I look?” he asked, turning himself around. “Am I satisfactory?”
Arthur looked his fill, admiring how handsome and smart Merlin looked in his new clothes. The tunic was perfect, cut to fit his slender figure and shoulders that had broadened with age and work, and the collar of the tunic, which hugged his neck perfectly, was embroidered with a golden dragon motif.
Reaching out, Arthur took Merlin’s hand and reeled him in, unable to take his eyes off his manservant dressed the way he’d always wanted.
“You always are,” he said.