Title: Secrets Given Voice
Author: Llama1412
Universe: BBC Merlin
Characters: Arthur/Merlin, Gwen
Disclaimer: Characters from BBC Merlin and the Arthurian Legends do not belong to me.
Summary:
Sequel to
Written Confessions. Merlin sees the letter.
Dedicated to
gomusing for inspiring me to write a sequel.
It was a rare, mutual day off for Merlin and Gwen and they had every intention of celebrating. There was some sort of feast at the castle, but both Morgana and an unwilling Arthur had allowed their servants some much needed time off. Morgana assured them that other servants could attend to their needs just as well. (Or better, as Arthur pointed out.)
So it was that, with the minstrels' songs drifting through the night air, Gwen and Merlin walked to her house, discussing what to make for dinner. Morgana had gifted Gwen with both a chicken and a few quails. Merlin didn't ask where she'd gotten them.
Gwen's chatter cut off abruptly as soon as she opened the door, attention caught by an innocuous white letter sitting just inside the threshold. "Gwen?" She heard Merlin ask as she bent down to pick the letter up. "Oh. Who's it from?"
She shrugged. "Do you mind if I read it now? It could be something important."
"Nah, s'fine. I'll go get some water from the well for tea, shall I?" He grabbed the bucket next to the door and took off with one last frowning glance at the letter.
That had been Arthur's handwriting on the envelope.
Merlin squashed down the curl of jealous that flared at that thought. It was a bit rude of Arthur to send her a letter when he knew she'd be entertaining Merlin, but maybe he'd thought they were going to the tavern or something and that Gwen wouldn't get it until later. Either way, it wasn't really Merlin's business, was it? And it's not like he could protest Arthur's thoughtfulness. He'd left a note for Gwen before, ostentatiously from Arthur. That Arthur was making an effort without Merlin's help should please the sorcerer.
It definitely didn't.
He shoved the thoughts away and concentrated on getting the water. Gwen would notice if he took a long time so now really wasn't the moment to wallow in jealousy. Later, after dinner and back in the privacy of his own room, there he could make himself miserably with thoughts of an unrequited love. Until then, he'd just have to pretend that he hadn't recognized the handwriting.
"Got the water," he called a short time later, shouldering the door open.
"Put it over here, will you?" She pointed to the floor next to the kitchen. "I've decided on the chicken. Is that all right?"
"Sure." He set the water down where she directed. "Anything I can help with?"
"No, it's fine." She smiled at him and he settled down to watch her cook.
During the whole meal, as carefree as they both were, there was a conscious effort made never to mention the Crown Prince. Despite the fact that Merlin usually griped about Arthur whenever he could, Gwen made no comment on his restraint.
After they'd finished eating, smiling broadly with bellies pleasantly full, Merlin volunteered to wash their dishes. It was only as he plopped the plates in the water bucket that he noticed the letter laying on the floor, directly in his line of sight. "Gwen," he began, until his eyes landed on his own name and his breath caught.
He didn't hear whether Gwen had responded. He didn't hear anything at all as he picked the letter up with shaky hands and reread the paragraph that had nabbed his attention.
Hands landed on his shoulder and he jumped, the letter fluttering out of his hand. "Gwen! Oh," he tracked her eyes to where the paper had landed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have looked, I just - " He swallowed. "Gwen, he...he loves me," Merlin's voice was scarcely a whisper.
She smiled at him, her eyes slightly damp to match his. "I know, Merlin. I know." She cleared her throat and glanced out the window. "I think the feast is finished by now. I wouldn't be surprised if the prince needed some assistance from his loyal manservant, would you?"
He bit his lip. "I - yes. Yes, I think he does. I'll just be going, then." He gave her a watery smile and a quick hug before dashing out.
Gwen's house wasn't far from the castle, but it was usually advised to take your time to avoid obstacles, especially in the dark. Merlin paid this no heed, running flat out and only landing face first in the mud once or twice. He hardly noticed, mind completely consumed with reaching Arthur.
When he did finally burst into the prince's chambers, he was panting and had mud and little cuts smeared over his face and arms. Arthur was slouching in his favored chair, forlornly gazing into the fire. At Merlin's entrance, he jumped up, goblet still half-full of wine clattering on the floor. "Merlin? What the hell did you do, roll around in the pigsty? Mud is a good look for you."
"I - you - " Merlin smiled, still trying to catch his breath. "Can I kiss you?" He asked in a rush before his courage could desert him.
Arthur's eyes went wide, his cheeks flushing pink. "You - what're you talking about? Are you drunk? Is that how you fell?"
"I, no, I was rushing, but I'm not drunk! I just...can I?"
It was silent for a long time, and doubt and embarrassment coiled in Merlin's gut. He was about to recede the offer, ready to run away in shame and claim a lack of memory tomorrow, when Arthur swallowed. "Yes."
Merlin licked his lips, beyond nervous, but he took a tentative step forward. Arthur watched him warily, as if expecting him to laugh it off as a joke, but he too strode forward until they stood face to face. Merlin slowly raised his hand to trace Arthur's jaw, cupping it gently when Arthur leaned into it just the slightest fraction. Finally, he brought his lips to Arthur's, rejoicing internally when the gentle pressure was returned. "I love you, too," Merlin whispered against the other's mouth. "Love you, love you, love you."
Arthur's lips upturned into a smile. "Idiot. You do realize you'll be the one hauling up the water for my bath and cleaning this mud off, right?" He said, drawing Merlin as close as possible.