#when merlin and arthur are about to kiss - as tempting as it is to let them at it - lancelot intervenes

[justaz]

arthur has always been suspicious of the tavern excuse for merlin’s absences, but he has no proof on the contrary and when confronted merlin either tells him outlandish tales of near death experiences that have no chance of being remotely truthful or he admits to and apologizes for slacking on his duties to get drunk. one day, he decides enough is enough and he and all the knights go to the tavern with merlin and arthur casually brings up merlin’s history in the tavern and says he could probably beat gwaine in a drinking contest. merlin tries to divert the discussion away from the idea but arthur is determined. they receive a round of drinks and arthur pushes a pint of ale into merlin’s hands with a look of challenge. merlin’s options are to either commit to the lie to hide his secret or admit to the lie and risk exposing his magic. he takes the former. merlin gives lancelot a Look and then slams back the pint of ale with a minor bit of gagging and pauses to breath. gwaine already finished his pint thirty seconds ago but its entertaining to watch merlin so he doesn’t say anything.

merlin (built like a twig, rarely drinks, lightweight) is proper sloshed. arthur is almost vindicated but he needs merlin to admit it. he orders two more pints and gives one to gwaine and the second to merlin, instigating the competition further despite the fact that gwaine won already. merlin grimaces and tries to do the same thing again but only gets a few gulps in before he folds. he slams the mug down and gives arthur a kicked puppy look before admitting and apologizing for lying. arthur is Vindicated. merlin is still wasted.

the nights wears on and merlin feels the effect of the ale more and more every minute that passes. he sits between arthur and lancelot and feels almost unbearably warm but that could be bc of the alcohol in his system, or the crowded tavern. merlin looks around and watches the people that pass their table by while the knights talk and joke and laugh amongst themselves. merlin feels relaxed and excitable now, his worries seem to have melted away and he cant seem to remember why he was always so stressed and worn down before. he sees a game of [insert game here] (i was gonna say darts but google says that game hasn’t been invented in canon time so ill leave it up to interpretation) going on and climbs over lancelot to join in.

the knights watch with amusement and anticipate merlin’s clumsy attempts at [whatever]. oddly enough tho, merlin is a fucking god at [game]. a small crowd gathers and betting pools form and then challengers approach and put money on the line to go against merlin and merlin absolutely demolishes them all. honestly if arthur didn’t know any better, he’d think merlin was using magic to win bc there was no way his bumbling fool of a servant was that good at…anything.

the challengers take their defeat with honor and grace. the audience is a huge fan of merlin and they keep buying him drinks but he just sends them to the table for the other’s to drink. many people come up to him and flirt, maybe motivated by all the money he won that night or maybe just bc he’s merlin, and when merlin responds to them he’s………..he’s a real good fucking flirt? like could put gwaine to shame and he’s rejecting them???? how can someone come across so flirtatiously while turning down offers to take various beautiful people to bed??

arthur was already itching to intervene when people were flirting with merlin but he seemed to have a handle on it so he let it slide, but then people started touching merlin and arthur’s hand had drifted to his hip where his sword was usually sheathed. however, again, merlin was very skilled at escaping the situations with little to no conflict and he came back to the table with his winnings. the knights cheer for him and order more drinks with his money which merlin is too inebriated to notice and truthfully doesn’t really care about. his eyes are on arthur and if arthur thought watching merlin flirt from afar was bad then having him up close in his personal space, hands brushing against his arms and dark eyelashes fluttering softly against his pale skin, breathing his name into the space between them and licking his full pink lips was absolute torture and the worst and best agony he couldn’t even dream up.

[thesleepy1]

My King Shall Have Everything

A/N: A fuck load of people seemed to like my last Merthur fic. I even got a request for a sequel from @antobcq who wanted a 5+1 fic where Arthur couldn’t get anything done without Merlin on his lap. I haven’t done one of these fics in ages but I’m down with this prompt. I also love the headcanon where Merlin is a better court member and adviser than Arthur and completely leaves Arthur in the dust during diplomatic meetings. Unbeta’d as always, we die like Arthur.

Extra note, this turned out much longer than I expected it to. This might be my longest fic yet. I didn’t mean for it to be like this but I spent too much time on it to just leave it alone. And much to my surprise, it’s a linear storyline as well. I hope you all enjoy it and feel free to give me some feedback. Do you prefer the linear storylines or short snippets of scenes? Also, kind of sorry for the slight angst. My bad. It got worse towards the end, I was getting really tired and wasn’t completely sure how to end it. It’s not on the highest note is all I’ll say.

Pairings: Merlin x Arthur, slight Gwen x Morgana

Summary: Five times Arthur couldn’t get anything done without Merlin on his lap and one time where Merlin couldn’t get anything done without Arthur on his lap.

Word count: 10,485

Warnings: Lap sitting, fluff, physical touch, sexual content, grinding, angst, wounds, violence, character death, more warnings to be added, more tags to be added, proceed with caution, breeding kink, impregnation kink, mentions of dub/con, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, eugenics, blood, gore, hurt/comfort, angst/comfort, whump, injuries, begging, character death, mentions of public executions, long fic, foul language, asphyxiation, strangulation, choking,

Arthur was good at many things, but being on time was not one of them. Especially, when at the end of the hall he had to attend a council meeting with some of the most stuck up people he had ever met, and that was saying something considering he had to spend the last winter with his extended family. His advisers had been up his ass all week about the new rising kingdom beyond the continent. A kingdom so far away, he had just heard of it several months prior. It was like the kingdom had appeared overnight, suddenly a new ink blotch taking over the lower side of the map.

Personally, he didn’t believe it was real in the first place, having a squadron of knights and hired mercenaries sail over to investigate this so-called Kingdom of Le Lubrique. Much to his disbelief, they didn’t come back empty handed and instead returned with a message. A greeting, as his advisers and Merlin had called it.

To Arthur, it was merely stiff aristocrats getting together in too large a room to talk about dull nonsense. Something he had enough of in his own kingdom. Every other month he was already forced to put on a brave face and converse with the other ruling kings and queens of the continent; he didn’t need another to add on to the mix. He already loathed the balls he was required to host.

“You’re late,” Merlin hissed at him as he entered through a side door so as to not alert the others of his presence.

“That’s kind of the point of me coming here long after the time I was supposed to, Merlin,” Arthur rolled his eyes, sneaking behind the other advisers present to his seat. Merlin begrudgingly followed right on his tail.

“This is serious Arthur, you should have been here ten minutes ago!” Merlin nagged a tad too loudly.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the great king of Camelot himself. I’m delighted to see you have graced us with the honor of your belated attendance,” said an adviser from the guest kingdom with a tone that made Arthur want to stab him, wars be damned.

“I hope you could excuse my tardiness just this once,” Arthur began, trying to come up with a plausible excuse. He looked over to Merlin for help, but the warlock looked clueless as usual. “It...was just that I was caught up with...making sure my...uh...husband’s family were making themselves at home. The in-laws are visiting, you see. You know how hard it can be to keep them happy.”

Merlin looked like he wanted to hang Arthur with his own entrails at the king’s quick thinking. Camelot’s advisers seemed to be considering throwing themselves from the window. And the guest advisers seemed content with Arthur’s answer; though not pleased.

“Oh, believe me,” one of them began, a tall woman with high cheekbones and piercing brown eyes, “I know exactly how tiring in-laws can be.” She let out a high pitched laugh like the sound of dying blue jays; the sound made Arthur want to join his advisers as they inched towards the open windows.

“Well, yes, hahaha, they can be quite a hassle. Especially people that are related to my husband here,” Arthur clapped his hands, smiling at Merlin as he took his seat at the head of the table, “Shall we properly begin then?”

Arthur truly and wholeheartedly regretted agreeing to the whole thing. It was hour after hour of mindless words with little to no meaning. They just went on and on about things that meant little to nothing. He tried to tune out their voices but the tall woman’s laugh was like the crack of a whip, bringing him back to reality each time someone made a vaguely funny comment.

“Are you alright, Arthur?” Merlin said in a hushed tone next to his side. Concern had brought his dark eyebrows together. Arthur was tempted to take his fingers and smooth out Merlin’s worry, but perhaps that was too intimate an act for a meeting. Then again, when did Arthur care about what other people thought of him and his husband.

“I’m fine, Merlin,” Arthur sighed, “Just so bored with all of this.”

“How could you be bored? Have you been listening to half of what they’ve been saying? For a kingdom so small they have so much potential. Their farmlands double ours, as well as their ores, and their medicine is even on par to Gaius’s.” Merlin continued on with such a light in his eyes that Arthur was distracted like a moth to a glowing flame.

“Arthur, have you been listening to what I’ve been saying?”

The king shook his head softly, slightly ashamed for not paying attention to his husband. “I’m sorry. I’m just so distracted. I need something to ground me if I’m going to survive another dreadful hour of this,” he groaned, thinking over if the fall from the window would kill him or lethally wound him. Either way, he’d be away from this horror with Merlin at his bedside playing nurse. At the private thought, an idea crossed his mind that had him delighted.

“You know what would help me?” Arthur began, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“What?” Merlin gave him a suspicious look, having seen the grin on the king many times before.

“It’ll really help if you were on my lap.” Merlin gave him an incredulous glare, ready to smack him across the back of the head for such a suggestion during such a crucial conference. “Please, Merlin? You really do help me focus.”

The warlock seemed to be thinking over Arthur’s request, a frown twisting his face. He looked like he was going to say no, but the pleading look on Arthur’s face made him change his mind. “Just this once. I don’t want to make a habit of this, Arthur,” Merlin warned in a hurried voice.

“Just this once,” Arthur lied through his teeth.

The second king of Camelot sat himself on the first, his side pressed against Arthur’s chest. Arthur wound his arm around Merlin and held him tightly. The action seemed to have garnered the attention of the visitors who looked at the pair strangely. And for some odd reason, the visiting ladies of the guest kingdom seemed to be glaring intently at Merlin.

“We are ever so sorry to be boring you, your majesty, but there is still much to discuss,” a visiting high lord coughed, glaring at the pair. “I apologize that our talk of declining population, racial biases against commoners and sorcerers, and ever so low birth rates have made you tired, but considering it may be the undoing of Le Lubrique, I deem it vital,” he practically snarled.

Arthur’s grip on Merlin tightened, his other hand palming Merlin’s thighs. The warlock couldn’t hide the grin that was stretched across his beautiful face at the touch. The king absolutely loved that grin. Arthur glared right back at those who dared question his behavior, for him showing his love for his king. He sounded in a stern voice that left no room for argument, “No apologies needed. Please, continue.”

“Don’t let us disturb you,” Merlin added with a more snarky tone, commanding the same amount of respect. “You have our full attention.”

-----

“Must I attend? You’ll be there, is that not enough?” Arthur whined as Merlin buttoned up his shirt.

“We are hosting a party in the Kingdom of Le Lubrique’s honor. Their queen has traveled all the way here to properly meet us,” Merlin pressed a kiss to Arthur’s cheek for the effort. “Must I continue?”

“Only if you wish, my dear,” Arthur pointed to his other cheek, waiting for the same treatment as the other.

Merlin rolled his eyes, pressing another kiss to Arthur. “I’m serious, Arthur, this could mean an all out war or the strongest of ally ship. I mean, have you read the reports of what their kingdom is like? It sounds, and excuse for my word choice but there really is no other way to describe it; magical. I would love to visit the country myself. If we make a good impression they might invite us for a stay,” he continued, tying a red handkerchief with Camelot’s crest around his own neck.

“And that’s why the second king of Camelot would be in attendance.”

Merlin left Arthur in their room after that, knowing that Arthur would follow him. “Are you really going to make me sit there and listen to them go on and on about their plan to repopulate their country, or over tax their people for the food that’s in abundance? Come on, Merlin, we could have our council handle it.” Arthur stepped in front of Merlin to block his way. “Why don’t we head back to our room and make this a more entertaining night?” he wiggled his eyebrows to make sure Merlin got his point.

Merlin heard him loud and clear and rightfully ignored Arthur’s attempt to get into his pants. He sidestepped the man to continue on his path, turning a corner to the ballroom. “Do you hear yourself? What kind of impression would that give Le Lubrique if you just suddenly disappeared?!” Arthur turned to run back to their room just to prove Merlin’s point, but the warlock quickly magicked him back to his side. “You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”

And that was how Arthur ended up sitting on his throne, bored out of his mind and unwilling to be civil or sociable when he could have spent the entire evening snuggled inside Merlin. He could have been in bed by now, having Merlin moaning his name underneath him, but instead Arthur watched as the guest and court mingled and danced. The instrumentalists bobbed their heads in tune to their upbeat song.

Despite refusing to speak to anyone besides Morgana, and Merlin, and occasionally Gwen when she could spare a moment from dancing; he had learned quite a bit about their guests. The fact that although they had a vast amount of farmlands, they had little people to work in them. Which came as a shock to Arthur because he had learned earlier on that Le Lubrique consisted of mostly sorcerers.

Le Lubrique’s queen was the tall woman with a voice that made Arthur’s ears bleed. Her lady in waiting seemed to be a distant relative from their shared trait of high cheekbones, drowning brown eyes, and dark hair. The two were glued at the hip, her lady in waiting obsessively trailing behind her like a newborn duckling wherever they went. They were both strong magic users if Merlin’s gushing was anything to go by. And also very beautiful with fancy perfume that complimented each other so nicely that they smelt like heaven, from Merlin’s words of course, not his. If Arthur didn’t know any better, he would think Merlin fancied them; the queen and her lady in waiting.

Even when the queen was dancing with a number of council members, the servant would be right next to her. It was quite amusing to watch them struggle to sway in time with the music. Arthur had already made bets with Gwen on the number of times party guests would refuse dances with the pair because they refused to separate. So far Arthur was winning.

That was until the queen smugly asked Merlin for a dance. Her lady in waiting immediately stepped away like someone had called for her assistance, leaving the queen alone with Merlin. Much to Arthur’s disappointment, Merlin happily accepted the dance. He took the queen’s hand and off they went, twirling around as if they were the only ones in the room. His hands on her shoulder and waist, her hands virtually tearing his clothes from his chest.

The way the queen of Le Lubrique looked at Merlin made a sick feeling build up from the pit of Arthur’s stomach. She was undressing him with her eyes, the brown in her gaze turning an almost pitch black from lust. The woman said something that made Merlin taken aback, something about dragons and druids, but it was hard to hear from the chatter of the room. For all Arthur knew, it could have very well been a spell.

Merlin recovered quickly with a grin and laugh that had Arthur’s heart skipping a beat. Then the two of them had the audacity to continue dancing as if nothing had happened, the queen still shamelessly pulling at Merlin’s fine clothes that only Arthur was allowed to rip away.

Arthur didn’t know why Merlin didn’t stop the queen when she pulled his handkerchief from his neck. The king was almost killed for even playing with Merlin’s handkerchief and now this woman was doing the same without losing an arm and a leg? Completely unfair. That was proof in itself, she had casted a spell on Merlin.

“Merlin,” Arthur called out to his husband sternly only to be ignored once more. “Merlin,” Arthur stepped away from his throne, making his way towards his husband and the queen.

“I think you should go to bed before things get ugly,” Morgana gently warned Gwen, gesturing towards Arthur’s outburst. “It could either go well or we’ll die of secondhand embarrassment.”

“Thank you for your concern, my love,” Gwen replied with a smirk, “But I want to see how this unfolds.”

Morgana laughed at that, glancing between Arthur and Merlin. “Suit yourself.”

The two high ladies watched as Arthur pulled Merlin away from the queen of Le Lubrique, dragging him away from the woman as she stared on in horror. To Gwen's and Morgana’s surprise, the queen tried to pull Merlin back into her arms. Merlin seemed to be in a daze throughout the whole skirmish. His eyes glazed over, even from afar.

“Should we step in?” Gwen asked with concern, ready to intervene.

“Arthur can handle it, probably.”

The queen called her lady in waiting to help her. Three heads tugged at poor Merlin like he was flax rope at a kingdom fair. The lady in waiting tried to block Arthur from getting a good grip on Merlin while the queen tried to take more of Merlin’s clothes off. A crowd was forming and Morgana distinctively noticed coins being passed around in bets.

“Are you sure, my love?”

“Oh, It's just getting good,” Morgana grinned like a Cheshire cat. “How much are you willing to bet, my beloved?”

Finally, as the crowd began cheering, Arthur twisted out of the lady in waiting’s grip and grabbed hold of Merlin’s waist. The king lifted the warlock up in a bridal carry and turned on his heel for his throne, the crowd parting in heckles and laughs. Arthur blatantly ignored them, sitting down on his throne with Merlin in his lap. Unfortunately, he was unable to retrieve Merlin’s handkerchief, a matter he will surely not hear the end of for quite some time. But between a measly piece of fabric and Merlin’s life, Arthur would choose Merlin time and time again, his own life be damned.

Taking a moment to throw a sneer at Gwen and Morgana who were snickering, Arthur tried to shake Merlin out of the haze. “Are you alright, Merlin?” He stroked Merlin’s arms gently, trying to bring him back to the present. His blue gray eyes were a stormy glaze, seemingly out of it. It made an ugly feeling swirl around in Arthur’s head, the fact that some queen had touched his Merlin in such a way made Arthur sick.

Merlin shuddered in Arthur’s hold, looking down at himself and then at the ballroom floor where others had returned to dancing. Confusion crossed his face, “Of course, I’m alright,” he furrowed his eyebrows, “How did I get here?” Merlin rubbed at his temple, trying to soothe the ache that had formed there.

“Arthur carried you like the jealous brute he is,” Morgana explained, passing Gwen a handful of coins.

“Jealous brute?” Merlin questioned, looking at the trio for a real explanation.

Arthur was about to defend himself when a member of Le Lubrique’s court approached them. “Haha, I couldn’t help but notice the spectacle that you put on there, sire,” the man addressed Merlin.

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite follow.”

The man laughed again, mirth in his eyes. “I guess you wouldn’t,” he said vaguely, “The queen does have a way with words.”

“What do you mean by that?” Arthur butted in, holding Merlin a tad too tight. Merlin squirmed in Arthur’s lap but Arthur seemed to hardly notice.

“Well, you are a warlock, aren’t you, sire?” the man addressed Merlin once more. Merlin nodded despite himself. “A warlock as well as a dragonlord under the queen’s attention is bound to feel the efforts of her magic. And her special attention for that matter, hahaha.”

“Sorry,” Merlin began, more confused than before. “What do you mean by that expactly?”

“Our queen is a lovely dragon tamer. Her family is the last of their kind. Although taming a dragon is much easier when you have someone who can speak to the creatures,” the man laughed as if telling a joke only he knew the punchline to and walked away as if nothing had happened.

Least to say, the rest of the night Arthur didn’t let Merlin out of his sight. He had no idea what a dragon tamer was and Merlin seemed as lost as he was, but he wasn’t taking any chances. No one was going to “tame” his lover. Whatever that meant. Morgana and Gwen could laugh and call him jealous all they want, Arthur only had Merlin’s best interest at heart.

“I doubt having me be a lap warmer is in my best interest.”

-----

It had been weeks and Arthur naively thought they were done interacting with the kingdom of Le Lubrique. He had hoped to be finished with the rising kingdom, to leave them alone as long as they left him be.

He was rarely fortunate these days. Never even.

Apparently, Merlin was not deterred by almost being kidnapped by the queen and her lady in waiting. Merlin even said he enjoyed their company and their attention to his every breathing word. Arthur loved the man, but sometimes he could be quite an idiot.

Merlin, without Arthur’s knowledge, had invited a member of Le Lubrique’s court to stay at the castle. Who else to volunteer to come to Camelot but the queen’s lady in waiting. She was only supposed to be in the kingdom for a couple of weeks, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. That couple of weeks turned into a couple of months and eventually the woman practically lived there. She had made herself at home on day one, much to Arthur’s dismay. He couldn’t really kick her out without making a bad impression towards her kingdom, despite what her queen had already done.

He was a king. Much to his reluctance, he had to act like it. And that meant acting like you liked people that you hated to the core.

“And these are our forests,” Arthur gestured to the thick wall of trees that signified the beginning of the woods. “I typically take neighboring kings hunting here. If you’re interested, we can go if you’d like.”

Sylvy, the lady in waiting, sat on her horse with her head held high. For someone with a position like her’s, she acted like she was queen herself. Arthur had spent the whole day trying to show her around for the utmost time. She was never satisfied with what he showed her, as if she were looking for a break in the walls of the kingdom.

Every morning she demanded to be taken around on a tour and every afternoon she was left with a deep frown on her face. Nothing made her happy it seemed, and Arthur had truly tried to make her feel at the very least, welcomed. It was just so difficult to do so with the knowledge of what she had done to Merlin. Had enchanted him, put him in a daze of some sort.

If Camelot still had the ban on magic, she would’ve been dead the moment she laid a hand on Merlin. On the crown’s orders, she would have been hung or burned, some form of public execution. Her dark hair would go up in flames as the fire burned higher and higher, her head would hang low as the bucket was kicked out underneath her. Arthur was still considering having her prisoned for what she did and simply explained to her queen that there had been a freak accident. If he were a lesser man, a lesser king, he would’ve done so and let it be a warning.

“I despise hunting as a sport, it’s just mindlessly cruel,” she snarled, her lips curling as a show of disdain. She held the reins to her horse like a vice, afraid that she’d be ripped from the saddle and forced to participate in such barbaric practices. At least, that was what Arthur thought was swimming through her mind.

“Yes, yes, but some like the adrenaline rush of a good hunt,” Arthur explained without real passion, merely a form of continuing the dry conversation. Sylvy had woken him up so early that morning he barely had a chance to give Merlin a goodbye kiss. “Some have to do it to survive.”

“There are other ways to live,” Sylvy began, urging her horse to turn by towards the main part of the kingdom, seeing as they were on the outskirts. “Le Lubrique for one replies solely on farmlands. We have no need for meat or the slaughtering of innocent animals. Everyone can live without such a horrible act; people and sorcerers alike. Meat is simply murder.”

Arthur half heartedly nodded, trailing behind her while trying not to fall off his horse. “I can’t argue with you there.” He didn’t want to argue with about anything her to be truthful, he had had enough of that already.

They traveled at a moderate trot in silence before she spoke up again. “Why haven't you invited me to a council meeting? I’ve been here for ages. Surely you have these sorts of things at least once a month.” She tried to act nonchalantly, but Arthur could see right through her. “I mean, there must be all sorts of things to discuss. An heir to the throne for one, seeing as neither you nor king Merlin can bear children.”

“We just haven’t had any council meetings, nothing interesting to report that couldn’t be done with a quill and parchment is all,” Arthur lied with a fake smile she could not see. “And an heir doesn’t need to be of blood. They just need to be taught how to properly command a kingdom like a fair and just ruler. To know what’s best for a kingdom, who to trust and who to leave behind in the woods.”

A look of abhorrence lingered on Sylvy’s face at Arthur’s words, bothered that he would even say such a thing. But Arthur was right, it didn’t matter if his heir was not his child as long as they were just and fair to all that passed them. Arthur could only imagine what Le Lubrique was like if all their subjects thought the same way Sylvy did. It must be all out war for them if a bastard appeared in court one day; though in reality royal bastards were a dime a dozen.

Sylvy went quiet for a moment, calculating her words while mulling over what Arthur had said. “With a kingdom as large as yours, surely there’s action all around? Suitable women all around. Something worthwhile must have happened during my stay,” her voice took on a tone that Arthur didn’t like, a light flush painting her cheeks like some teenage girl with a crush, “What about king Merlin?”

“What about my husband?”

“What has he been up to?” Sylvy asked indifferently, trying to hide her curiosity from Arthur. If only she would try to hide that damn blush. Merlin was physically attractive, Arthur knew this as an undeniable fact, but to be so unabashed while in front of the man’s husband? What was he? The first king of Camelot reduced to chop liver. Unbelievable!

“Well, he’s the second king of Camelot. A king’s job is never done. There is always more work than one man can handle. I should know, I used to be the one doing all the work.”

They reached town just as Sylvy took on an accusatory tone, “Then what are you doing here?”

Arthur resisted the urge to strangle her in front of so many people. His fists clenched around his reins so hard his knuckles turned ivory. “I’m showing you around, just as you had requested,” Arthur gritted through his teeth, trying so very hard not to glare at her.

“And here I was, hoping to attend a meeting with the second king.”

“Really now?” Arthur could feel the mare under him shuffle on her hooves at his fury. “You know what? There might be one later today.” What he had planned was so unbelievably petty and a tad childish, but at this point, he didn’t give a damn. Sylvy was getting on his last nerve. “I’ll have a servant call you when it’s time. For now, why don’t you explore our lovely town by yourself? Walk around without a king hovering over you and all. That way, I could get back to doing my job.”

Sylvy brightened up in spite of Arthur’s words. A smile was forming on her face, her high cheekbones pushed up even farther. Her brown eyes crinkled at the notion that she’ll be able to see Merlin. “I can’t wait,” she said, unsaddling and handing the reins to her horse to Arthur. “I must get ready,” she said to herself loud enough for Arthur to hear.

“Take all the time you need.”

Arthur would regret those words later that night when he sat among his advisers. Sylvy, their honored guest was over half an hour late and the others were beginning to feel on edge. Many of them were not planned for a meeting so soon after the one they had earlier that week. It was an unprompted get together for the lady in waiting’s sake, Arthur had explained to them.

On days like these Arthur was glad he was king and that there’d be grave consequences if he were murdered by one of his advisers. They would be in the right to do so, kill him that is; but he was hoping to live long enough to raise a couple of children with Merlin.

“Why are we doing this, Arthur?” Merlin asked, hiding a yawn with his hand. While Arthur was riding around the kingdom with Le Lubrique’s queen’s lady in waiting, Merlin was left to run the kingdom by himself. The haunted task of commanding and keeping an eye on so many people was taking its toll on the sorcerer. Merlin hadn’t properly slept in days, too busy keeping the kingdom in one piece.

“Sylvy wanted to be present for a council meeting. As a member of Le Lubrique’s court, we have to answer to her call until her stay is up.” Merlin gave him a look that called Arthur out on his poorly constructed plan. “And I may or may not want her to know that you’re taken.”

Merlin rolled his eyes along with most of the present court. They should all be used to Arthur’s antics at this point. What were they expecting? An honest to god meeting to discuss important topics with their visitor from foreign lands? Never. A fake meeting just so Arthur could flaunt the fact that Merlin loved him and not some conceited queen and her lady in waiting? That was more like it.

“Sometimes I can’t believe I asked you to marry me,” Merlin yawned again, giving Arthur a tired look in more ways than one.

“Feels just like a dream, doesn’t it?”

“More like a nightmare.”

“You love me,” Arthur opened up his arms so Merlin could take his place on the king’s lap. Merlin shook his head at the gesture, so incredibly done with Arthur. “Come on, Merlin. You know you like it here.” He teasingly patted his lap. “You can rest until our guest arrives.”

“Fine,” Merlin said begrudgingly after a moment of hesitation, his mind clouded by the want for sleep. “But you better wake me up when she comes.”

“Of course,” Arthur assured, inviting Merlin over once more. This time Merlin made himself home on Arthur’s lap, his head going to rest on Arthur’s chest. He curled in Arthur’s lap like second nature, having done this so many times over the years. Arthur wrapped his arms around the younger man, making sure he was supported and comfortable. Merlin fit perfectly nonetheless. Within moments, a soft snoring sound could be heard from the man on Arthur’s lap, content in where he sat. The second king finally got the rest he deserved. “I wouldn’t wake you for the world,” Arthur whispered, rubbing soothing circles on Merlin’s arm and leg.

Another half an hour passed achingly slowly without the esteemed lady in waiting’s presence. Arthur was about to call off the whole thing and make his way to his bedchamber when at last, the doors to the room opened to reveal Sylvy. She was no longer dressed in her usual servant attire with its cream apron and blue gray dress. Instead she had ransacked the queen’s wardrobe, wearing something befitting a ball.

The dress was elegant and detailed with silk and satin; a deep shade of bourbon that brought out her brown eyes. Her hand was even done up in cascading dark curls that perfectly fell from the knot atop her head. A glittering wine hair piece sat nestled against her hair, matching perfectly with the studs in her ears. She was beautiful even without the time spent enhancing what was already there, but now she stood ready to rule a kingdom.

Sylvy took her seat across from where Merlin would have sat. “Where is king Merlin?” she asked, not noticing that the man in question was currently sleeping on Arthur’s lap.

“I’m sorry for how unprepared we were, but I can relate to your troubles of not having enough hands to run a kingdom. My husband had taken the task of ruling all alone while I tended to your needs.” Arthur pressed a kiss to Merlin’s hair when he stirred in his sleep, continuing on his over sweetened words. “He’s beyond exhausted, but still wanted to take part in our meeting. Please understand that he really did try his best to stay awake.”

The emotions that crossed Sylvy’s face came in a blur; she was unreadable. But one thing was for sure, Arthur had won this small battle. He had shoved Merlin’s unquestionable favor for him in the lady in waiting’s face. Merlin was his and his alone. For good measure Arthur pressed a deep kiss onto Merlin’s lips, the sorcerer smiling in his sleep.

His advisers on the other hand felt cheated. If the death glares shot his way were anything to go by. Though there was one from Sylvy as well. A lot of people wanted him dead at the moment. But he was perfectly happy. They could string him up after the meeting for all he cared, the unintelligible look on Sylvy’s face was worth it. She was utterly speechless.

“I’m ever so sorry we were late to start, but would you like to commence this meeting?” Arthur asked like a gentleman with a cocky grin, making sure to stare right at Le Lubrique’s envoy.

-----

When Sylvy left Arthur rejoiced. She was finally out of his hair. Things could go back to normal and he could go back to spending his free time with Merlin instead of on horseback through a bare orchard. No matter how many times Arthur explained to Sylvy that their crops were not aided by magic like Le Lubrique’s, Sylvy insisted on seeing their “mortal” development.

Everything was put back into its rightful place. He couldn’t wait to put everything about Le Lubrique behind him and move on.

He was back on the throne with Merlin, leading the kingdom just as they were before the whole ordeal with Le Lubrique. Their advisers especially liked the fact that Arthur was back with Merlin; it meant less work for them. The moment that Sylvy left their grounds, Camelot’s advisers piled parchment after novel after demands on his table.

Those selfish bastards.

The so-called requests were so thick that Merlin didn’t even make a sarcastic comment comparing it to Arthur’s ass, and, or his thick skull; the warlock simply went to work. If Arthur himself wasn’t already terrified of the workload, he would have shocked himself to the grave at Merlin’s willingness to submit to their advisers. The two kings of Camelot knew when they met their match.

What felt like weeks passed where Arthur and Merlin did nothing but what their advisers ordered. They were slaves to their own court. The two didn’t leave their room for anything, not food, not training, not even a breath of fresh air. Their knights would occasionally knock on their door to make sure they were both still alive, but once the knights of the round table had been turned down a couple dozen times, they stopped caring. Merlin and Arthur shut off the world. They were practically locked in there, all because of their own doing.

Well, mostly Merlin’s doing. He was the one who invited the envoy over and wanted to make peace with the new kingdom. Arthur had nothing to do with that prolonged visit from the devil, he was only paying the price. His hands ached like it had been shorn off at the wrists, his back screaming for him to rest. He didn’t remember the last time he touched his bed, the neatly tucked in linens calling him to slumber. But he couldn’t, neither of them could until their work was done. Their kingdom depended on it and their kingdom came first, Arthur and Merlin’s comfort second. They both knew what they had signed up for when they decided to wed.

“A-Arthur,” Merlin groaned late one night, the sun mere minutes from the horizon.

Arthur immediately looked up from his book, putting his full attention on Merlin who was on the other side of the room. Neither of them had talked in days besides the few grunts they exchanged while passing over important text. The fact that Merlin was straining his voice now meant something serious was going on.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur coughed, his throat parched and dry as a desert.

“I-I-” Merlin began, rubbing harshly at his hurt eyes, “I think that’s the last one.” The sorcerer signed one more parchment with a flick of his wrist, setting it aside to dry along with the rest.

And the thing was, Merlin was right. There was no more work to go through, to tirelessly read; everything was finally done. “I’m so tired I don’t think I can see straight, b-but that was it!”

“What?”

“We’re finished, you clophole," Merlin smiled, taking Arthur’s breath away.

Arthur leapt out of his seat, pure joy masking the aches and pains as he rushed over to Merlin’s side. The king pulled the sorcerer from his chair, lifting the man into the air, Arthur kissed Merlin like it was their wedding day. Deep and full of all the longing he had for the man, grasping at him as if he could protect Merlin from the world.

He only pulled back for air, inhaling lungfuls before pressing his lips back against Merlin’s. Arthur missed his husband so damn much despite having worked across the room for each other. He hadn’t touched the other man in ages, it was heaven to feel his heartbeat beneath his pained fingers. To kiss down Merlin’s pale neck and mark him until the whole castle knew exactly what they had been up to. To pull at Merlin’s clothes, ripping his tunic right off of his chest, the buttons flying across the room.

“Arthur,” Merlin moaned, gently pushing Arthur back so he could speak. “I liked that shirt.”

Arthur thumbed at Merlin’s trousers, holding his hips tight enough to leave marks that Merlin would feel for days to come. “I’ll get you a new one.”

“But my mother made me that one,” Merlin complained, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck. His strong hand went to cup Arthur’s cheek, making the king look at him. Forcing the king to calm down and evaluate things. “We have to get something to eat too, dear,” Merlin told Arthur in a loving tone. “We’re both too exhausted for this.”

“I’m never too tired for you,” Arthur bit back, leaning into Merlin’s hand. He may have been putting his weight on Merlin’s desk so as to not fall over, but Merlin didn’t need to know that. Arthur could most definitely ravage Merlin while on the brink of death.

Merlin pulled Arthur close to kiss him softly, “If we go to bed now, then we can spend all of next day together,” Merlin tried to bargain, eyes teary from lack of any sort of sleep. “You’re going to hurt yourself, you ass,” he chuckled with a small smile that made his eyes crinkle with mirth.

“I don’t want to,” Arthur whined, “I’ve worked for weeks on end. Now I want my reward for behaving.” Arthur sat back on Merlin’s desk, pulling the man on top of him. The desk groaned under their combined weight, but Arthur hardly cared when he had Merlin on his lap and straddling his thighs. “You’re all I want.” He embraced Merlin, the warlock half naked and moaning as Arthur kissed along his arm. His mouth sucked at Merlin’s skin, teeth leaving markings on pale skin claiming Merlin as his. Arthur worshiped Merlin until his stormy eyes were hazy with unabated lust.

“Just you….”

Arthur slumped forward, out like a dying candle before he even knew it. Merlin had to stifle a laugh, though he doubted anything would wake Arthur then. The king was out cold, snoring like there was no tomorrow. Too bad Merlin had to carry his fat ass over to their bed. The warlock was beginning to rethink their plans for tomorrow. Sometimes he wished Arthur wasn’t such a stubborn ass and listened to him. It would save them both the trouble, Merlin was right most of the time after all.

“Get some rest, you oaf,” Merlin said to the asleep man, tucking him into their bed. Arthur’s blonde hair was like a halo against their stark white pillow, the dark bags underneath his eyes a contrast with the paleness of his skin. His old tunic was a dull red from overuse, the buttons holding onto the fabric for dear life. Merlin stripped Arthur of his boats and stuffy tunic leaving both men in their trousers. A much better way to sleep if anyone asked.

“Good night, Arthur,” Merlin whispered into Arthur’s ear, snuggling up against the king. He threw the blankets over himself and laid on Arthur’s chest. The pull of sleep had Merlin out just as quickly, the moment he allowed his breath to even out, there was nothing that would stop him from getting the well earned sleep that he so needed.

“Rest well, Merlin,” Arthur answered in a murmur, pulling Merlin in close. “Sweet dreams, you idiot.”

-----

“Arthur, calm down and try to see reason!” Merlin all but yelled at the king without his crown. The man in question was in his knight gear, armor and chainmail strapped tightly to his body for protection. His sword hung to his side, within reach at all times. Arthur could feel something ominous looming on the horizon, it was Merlin who was still seeing the world with rose colored glasses.

“I tried to see reason. I tried to play nice. And this is what I get in return,” Arthur gestured to the pile of charred wood on the round table. Wood that was once the homes of innocent farmers who played no part in the altercations of royals. People that Arthur was supposed to protect, their livelihoods and homes included. “We were nothing but good to them and this is what happened. Dozens of houses burned to nothing overnight!”

“We have to act now, Merlin.”

“Going in there with your swords raised in offence isn’t going to do anything but start an all out war,” Merlin insisted, urging Arthur to reel himself in, to not lash out at the closest thing. If it were anyone else Merlin would have already smacked them over the head for raising their voice at him. Unfortunately, Merlin was sleeping with the man and didn’t want to be smothered in his sleep. “That’s what Le Lubrique wants; a reason to fight. We can’t give them that.”

“Then what exactly do you expect us to do, Merlin?” Gwen piped in across the table from Merlin. Morgana stood to her side, eyes darting between all the speakers in a frenzy. “They attacked first. It’s only right that we return what they have given us.” Gwen picked up a piece of wood, charcoal rubbing off on her hands as she turned it over. “Arthur is right, we just can’t sit idle.”

Merlin stared at Gwen, hoping that she would be on his side on this. She solemnly shook her head, denying her friend’s offer. Gwen wanted to go on the offence just as much as Arthur, her friends were harmed when Le Lubrique’s soldiers set fire to a section of the kingdom. They burned down acres of farmland, dozens of homes with children and elderly. Luckily, nobody was killed in the process but many were harmed. Gwen wanted vengeance for them. She was a loyal ruler, loyal to her people.

“And we won’t,” Merlin bargained, “We won’t let them gain any more than they already have. No one here knows exactly what they want from us, but we do know that they’re willing to play dirty to get it,” he went on, talking with his hands to release some of the tension. “Let me be a spy and-”

“Absolutely not.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“No,” Arthur said firmly, daring Merlin to argue. “You stay right here with me. I will not have you risking your life for measly information.”

“It's not measly information, Arthur. It could be the difference between thousands dead and a simple treaty. We don’t know what Le Lubrique wants, but if we do, we could try to bargain with them. No blood needs to be shed,” Merlin tried, laying a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, forcing the man to look at him. “The queen wants me. She made that very clear. She won’t hurt me if she thinks I’m on her side.”

Arthur stared at Merlin, watching the sorcerer for any sign of hesitation. When he saw nothing of the sort Arthur sat down in his chair with a huff. Merlin really wanted to do this. Spy work is equal to a as rushing in with their flag flying and swords shining; both could end with Merlin buried six feet under. Even the implication had Arthur feeling like hell.

“How am I supposed to get anything done with you gone?” Arthur questioned genuinely, much to the snickers of the knights and ladies. “I can’t function without you,” this was whispered softly to Merlin, just for Merlin.

The anger and stress dissipated from Merlin’s eyes, his shoulders slacked in resignation. Realization slowly but surely dawned on the sorcerer. Arthur was simply afraid. The first king of Camelot was worried, on the brink of tears from it if anyone looked close enough. Merlin rolled his eyes, even after all these years Arthur was still undoubtedly the same.

Without a care for the other people in the room, Merlin sat down on Arthur’s lap, hands on the other’s chest to stabilize himself. Merlin leaned in close and pressed a kiss to Arthur’s lips, cradling his jaw like it was something breakable. “Everything will be alright, Arthur. I can protect myself just fine,” Merlin reassured in a careful voice, stroking Arthur’s cheek. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I always feel empty without you, Merlin." Arthur pulled Merlin in for another kiss, this one deeper than the last. The two only pulled away for air and even then they went back for more. They couldn’t have enough of the other, constantly needing to feel the other person. A give and take only the other could provide. “What am I supposed to do if you don’t return?” Arthur asked quietly, resting his forehead on Merlin’s. “How am I supposed to live?”

“I promise to you, you’ll never have to find out. You’re stuck with me," Merlin smirked, running his fingers through Arthur’s hair. "Till death do us part, darling.”

Arthur wished he could believe Merlin’s promise. He swore on his mother’s grave that if Merlin fulfilled his promise that he’ll listen to everything Merlin has to say. He’ll never question Merlin again, never talk back to the warlock, shove his stubbornness down and never speak of it again. Arthur would have done anything for Merlin, only the man asked.

Not a month later Arthur received news in the form of a messenger. Le Lubrique had declared war on any who dared try to take the last living dragonlord from them. Merlin was theirs, they stated, the dragonlord belonged to dragon tamers. The two are vital for the continuation of dragons in the old religion. One to gain their trust, the other to keep the creatures in chains where they belong. Any and all who tried to take away their dragonlord would be faced with lethal consequences.

At that Arthur sent the messenger to be put into the stocks. Lethal consequences. Arthur will show them just how deadly he could be. Le Lubrique will pay, a month without Merlin was torture but if they dared to lay a hand on Merlin they would all burn. Gwen was absolutely right, Arthur required vengeance, he wanted them all to feel just what angering Camelot will do, what angering him will do.

And after making such a claim over Merlin’s life, Arthur will show them no mercy. Le Lubrique had declared war on Camelot and Arthur would answer tenfold.

------

It took around two weeks for Arthur to prepare for battle against a kingdom full of sorcerers. Another week was spent traveling with his soldiers over land and sea. Through it all he couldn’t help but be eaten alive by the nagging feeling that he was too late. That he would arrive only to find ash; bones if he was lucky. Day and night he was slowly being killed by the fact that he could very well be walking into his husband’s grave.

“He’s going to be okay,” Morgana reassured him one day as he leaned against the railing of their ship. They were perhaps an hour if not less from shore and Arthur hadn’t slept a wink. He could feel exhaustion mixing with the worry brewing in his mind, ready to overflow at a single inconvenience. His sword was once again at his side, the memory making everything so much worse. “Merlin will be teasing you for worrying so much if he were here.”

“But he isn’t, is he, Morgana?” Arthur said more harshly than he intended. “He could already be dead for all we know.” And it would be all Arthur’s fault, though he kept that notion to himself. By the look on Morgana’s face, she must have been thinking the same thing.

“It's not your fault, Arthur. Merlin chose to go on his own free will.”

“But I was the one who allowed it,” Arthur bit back, standing straight on his feet. “I sent him to his death.”

“You don’t know that,” Morgana crossed her arms. She should be used to Arthur’s self destructive behavior but even this was getting too much for her. “If what that messenger said was true, Merlin’s probably being pampered to death.”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to have said because Arthur’s despair did not lighten. It seemed to have gotten worse. “What if he likes it better with Le Lubrique’s court? I’m no warlock, I can’t compete with their magic!”

“Arthur, you’re overthinking this,” Morgana was done with Arthur’s antics. She was ready to gag him and throw him in the ship’s makeshift prison cell until they had properly docked. “Merlin will run right into your arms the moment he sees you. I’m willing to bet on it, just you wait and see. Merlin loves-”

At Morgana’s silence, Arthur looked over to the direction of her gaze. Their ship was making speed but Arthur suddenly wished they had stopped right where they were and sink. The sight took Arthur’s breath away, making his blood go cold. Le Lubrique was burning and it looked like it had been burning for a very long time. There was no shoreside to speak of, just endless flickering flames. Where the castle should have been standing tall like a beacon was nothing but flames, ruble, and ash.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled even though his voice would not carry that far. “Merlin!” he called again, his heart sinking to his stomach. He wanted to drown at sea. He never wanted to reach the shore, to be lost in the ocean and never have to face what he already knew was there. The absence of what he knew should’ve been. “Merlin!” he shouted even though it was futile.

“Arthur, please!” Morgana struggled to pull him back from the side, afraid he’ll jump and swim the rest of the way himself. Or worse. “Just an hour, please. That’s all you have to wait for. You- you don’t know for sure.” Even Morgana was not so sure of her words, the picture in front of them was hard to paint as lies.

“I sent him to his death….” Arthur whimpered, “I killed him. I killed my husband.” The king sank to his knees, kneeling next to Morgana. The woman could barely hide the tears in her eyes at the sight. Everything she wanted to say, every reassurance died on her tongue. Whatever she said could very well be a lie and nothing more.

“We will make them pay, Arthur. We will make them pay for what they’ve done,” Morgana decided instead, pulling Arthur to his feet. “They won’t get away with this,” she stated sternly, much like their father when he had set his mind to something.

Less than an hour passed where the tension was so thick, one could slice through it with an unsharpened sword. All on board prepared for battle, despite the fact that the fires never stopped burning. Regardless of the fact that they might be too late to be of much good. The fighting had already begun long before they docked, a civil war where the same flag was flying on opposite sides.

“Go search for what is left, we’ll handle everything else,” Gwen informed Arthur when they stepped foot on the raging battlefield. She was dressed in chainmail armor just like everyone else, Camelot’s colors making her blend in with the searing fires. Her helmet was covering most of her face, giving her the appearance of a frightening soldier ready to take lives at a moment's notice. If Arthur was in a better mood, he would have been sorry for the folks who would come face to face with Gwen, the quick footed soldier instead of Gwen, the gentle, kind hearted high lady. At the moment he was on the verge of breaking and was ever so glad that Gwen was as cut throat as she was.

“Thank you,” Arthur told her from the bottom of his heart, “We should have listened to you from the start.”

“You followed your husband’s request, I can’t fault you for that.” She pulled Arthur in for a hug before sending him off. “Go find our king.”

Gwen didn’t have to tell Arthur twice, he was off before she finished speaking. The only thing is his mind was finding and holding Merlin. Nothing else mattered. Not the war thriving around him, swords clashing, arrows flying, Camelot’s red against the duality of Le Lubrique’s purples; nothing. The sorcerer was all that was worth living for and Arthur had a guess as to where Merlin would be.

The castle with Le Lubrique’s flag flapping against the blistering wind was as good as any place to start. Arthur climbed the hill that the palace stood on with lead in his stomach. It felt like every step he took he was merely walking into a trap. The castle should not still be in one piece, the battles around the structure should have made it no more than debris. However, it still stood on weak support.

Going against the nagging voice in the back of his head Arthur called out for his husband, “Merlin!” He walked closer to what would have been the courtyard. Around the perimeter were burning shrubbery that must have been a sight to behold at one point in time. Now there were nothing more than flares and the source of black smoke. The cobblestone center was stained with a drying red that Arthur did not want to face the source of. “Merlin!” Arthur sounded out in the courtyard.

“Arthur,” a hoarse voice groaned weakly. Arthur ran in the direction it came from, his sense of self preservation be damned. Merlin’s life could be on the line.

“Merlin, stay with me. Keep talking!”

“I-I’m over here,” Merlin hissed out helpfully, not informing Arthur where, “here” exactly was. Why did Arthur have to marry such a buffoon? Sure, no one could compare to Merlin, but at the very least he could have courted a smarter man.

“I’m coming, just stay where you are,” Arthur said hastily, rushing through the crumbling courtyard. “Don’t you dare die on me, I’ll kill you myself if you do!” he threatened, searching every nook and cranny for the warlock.

“That’s my line, you ass,” Merlin moaned in complaint, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Come up with your own catchphrases.”

Sometimes Arthur couldn’t believe his choice in a partner. Merlin was really making banter with him while possibly on the brink of death. He was definitely going to kill Merlin for this. “Make me, you bastard,” Arthur cursed, rounding a sharp corner that fell apart as he passed it. His breath was taken away for the second time that day when he saw Merlin on the ground.

They were in what must have been a parlor, the stained glass windows shattered on the ground as a number of the fine furniture burned to cinder. Arthur could imagine the room as something beautiful if he were to be invited over for tea. Now he just saw it as a smoking mess, something that he was glad was going up in flames. Though, without him or Merlin in it would be nice.

“There you are!” Arthur exclaimed, rushing over and kneeling on the floor next to Merlin’s frame. The sorcerer was half naked with sharp nail marks littered across his pale skin. Merlin’s neck was a raring red as if a hand had been wrapped around his throat which didn’t let up until he passed out from the lack of air. His form was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and tears, his rib cage stuck out in unpleasant angles. It looked like he hadn’t been fed in days. The sight made Arthur furious, but Le Lubrique’s court could wait. Arthur had to get Merlin to safety first.

“Took you long enough, you oaf,” Merlin hissed through his teeth, his lips chapped from dehydration. The corner of his mouth was bleeding as if he had been back handed across the face. Arthur reached out a hand to touch it, to make sure Merlin was real and not just some illusion made by a sick sorcerer. “Stop that, it already hurts to talk,” Merlin coughed, his eyes hazy.

“What happened?” Arthur couldn’t help but ask, shrugging off his cape to throw over Merlin’s bare chest. It didn’t offer much coverage but it was protection against the flying embers. As a bonus it covered the markings that made Arthur’s skin crawl.

“I arrived under the guise of an envoy, just as we had planned. Everything seemed to be going fine, but they found out I was a spy early on. It was like they could read my mind, and I don’t doubt that they have the knowledge just for the spell,” Merlin explained, pulling Arthur’s cape close, the soft fabric offering a sense of shelter. “But they didn’t seem to care that I was there under ulterior motives. They were only glad to have me, mind and body,” Merlin shivered at the thought. “Le Lubrique’s queen wanted me to father her children.”

Merlin paused to let the thought sink in. He watched Arthur for his reaction. Arthur’s face twisted in a disgusted sneer, baring his teeth at the implication. The king clenched his fists until his nails dug deep enough into his palm to drag blood. Arthur wanted to feel the pain, something to ground him farther so he didn’t march off to kill someone who might already be dead.

“Le Lubrique wanted dragons as slaves, no king would be dumb enough to go to war with a kingdom with dragons on their side; no matter its size,” Merlin went on, his eyes glowing yellow at the notion. “They needed me as a stud.”

Arthur was repulsed at the notion that Le Lubrique would even conceive of such a thing. He must have looked ready to vomit because Merlin quickly added, “Le Lubrique’s queen even tried to make herself appealing to me when I denied her advances.” Arthur could only imagine what the woman did. Sylvy’s antics immediately came to mind. “She magicked her hair blonde and made her eyes your shade of blue.”

Arthur couldn’t help but darkly chuckle at that. Of all the ways to make Merlin fall for someone, blonde hair and blue eyes weren’t it. “Did she really think looking like me would get you to bed her?”

“No,” Merlin began again with a pained yelp that he tried to hide. “What she said was what made me comply.”

“What did she say?” Arthur growled, his earlier fury seeping back into his bloodstream. “What did that harlot say?”

“She threatened your life, Arthur. Your honor, your dignity, and reign as king. Everything,” Merlin got teary eyed at the memory. “The way she took her pleasure from me was painful, but it was nothing compared to the thought of what she said she would have done to you.”

Arthur was shaking with rage, his whole body trembled with the urge to tear Le Lubrique’s queen apart, limb by limb by his own bare hands. His hand hovered over his sword subconsciously. He wanted to kill her, needed to destroy her for what she’s done. For the fear she incited into Merlin. Arthur was bloodthirsty; he hoped that Gwen was just as demanding of blood.

“I wanted to kill her.” Merlin’s quivering voice brought Arthur back to the present. “Let me kill her, Arthur,” Merlin begged his husband, his lip beginning to bleed.

“Of course,” Arthur wiped Merlin’s tears away with his thumb, his hand caressing Merlin’s cheek gently. “Anything you want, I’ll give it to you in a heartbeat.”

“Now, Arthur. I want to kill her now.” Merlin tried to sit up but the cry of pain had him falling right back to where he was. “She deserves to suffer.” His eyes lit up in a gold light, trying to magic his way upright but failed and fell down once more. The warlock’s body was in a worse state than he appeared, he shook in a cold sweat like an infection induced fever.

When Merlin began coughing fistfuls of blood at the strain Arthur was forced to act quickly. The king straddled Merlin’s legs, sitting down on his lap to keep Merlin on the ground. “Shhh, I’m here, Merlin. I’m safe, I’m alive,” Arthur barricaded Merlin with his arms. “I’ll bring you her head, I swear.”

“Let me do it, Arthur. I can kill her myself,” Merlin barked, another fit of coughs had him squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’ll bring her to you, alive. You can do anything you want with her court,” Arthur tried a different approach, tears forming in his eyes at the sight of Merlin in this state. “You can make her pay for what she’s done, make her feel the same pain. But please, Merlin,” Arthur begged, stroking Merlin’s face as tears fell on the man’s face. “Stay with me. Keep talking.”

Merlin opened his eyes at Arthur’s request, pain painting them a disorientating blue. “It hurts, Arthur. She did so, so many horrible things,” Merlin admitted in the burning parlor room. He reached out angry scarred arms to wrap around Arthur, pulling the king flush against his chest. “Everything aches, it feels like I’m being burned alive.” Merlin had Arthur in a death grip, there was barely enough room for either of them to breathe. It felt like home.

“They will pay, this I swear,” Arthur made an oath, kissing Merlin to make it true. “By the end of this day their bodies will be put on display for all to see.” He kissed down Merlin’s neck, burying Le Lubrique’s queen’s markings with his own. “Do you want her kingdom as well, Merlin? Say the word and it's yours.”

“I want you. I want her gone. I want her kingdom. I want it all,” Merlin’s mind was spinning with searing fever, screaming pain, and the constant pleasure of Arthur licking at his throat. He squeezed Arthur’s neck with his shaking arms. “Give me everything.”

In a burning parlor of a dying country with a queen and court that abandoned it, the first king of Camelot made a vow to the second king; an apology and a promise. Everything the licking fire was eating, everything destroyed by its own queen; the country, and the sea that surrounded it. The never ending farmlands, the people that survived, and the bones that would be buried by ash of its own making. The entire kingdom; dead, dying, or thriving. All of it would be Merlin’s.

All of it is Merlin’s.

“My king shall have everything.”

[kessilover]

Hi! I hope you're doing great :D, I wanted to ask if you could do Mergana 86 from your ways to say I love you prompt list?

So sorry for taking so long for responding to your prompt.

86. "I love waking up next to you."

Summary: Arthur grunted and was half-tempted to just let go of Merlin but his friend didn’t deserve that. “ We were celebrating with Gwaine and the other mates and then someone mentioned…” She raised an eyebrow, her chin lifting in what he recognized as a look very close to challenging. “...I mentioned,” Arthur amended with a glare. “...that Merlin didn’t have a stag do because you two eloped…”

Morgana uncrossed her arms and let them fall by her sides. “So you and your mates decided to do what exactly? Throw him a belated one?”

“He is drunk," Arthur announced as she opened the door. A large grin was splitting his face and she wanted nothing more than to slap it off his face.

Morgana’s eyes wandered over to Merlin’s face. His cheeks were flustered and eyes blood-shot. Her husband was leaning all of his weight against Arthur who appeared to be struggling to keep the two of them on their feet.

“Hello, love.” Merlin slurred with a lopsided smile. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Morgana averted her gaze back to Arthur and tilted her head. No shit Sherlock! was on the tip of her tongue but she refrained from saying those words. “I believe the roles are reversed here.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and adjusted Merlin as the latter’s legs wobbled. “Can you let us in. He’s rather heavy.”

She became thoughtful and frowned. “How did this happen?” Morgana crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’ll explain everything when we’re inside. I fear I might drop him.”

She gave him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. “Explain faster then. Because as far as I know, tonight is your stag do, Arthur. You are the one who should be out of it, not him. Why is that?”

Arthur grunted and was half-tempted to just let go of Merlin but his friend didn’t deserve that. “ We were celebrating with Gwaine and the other mates and then someone mentioned…” She raised an eyebrow, her chin lifting in what he recognized as a look very close to challenging. “...I mentioned,” Arthur amended with a glare. “...that Merlin didn’t have a stag do because you two eloped…”

Morgana uncrossed her arms and let them fall by her sides. “So you and your mates decided to do what exactly? Throw him a belated one?”

“Well, not exactly” Arthur chewed his lip, pondering what he should be saying next.

Morgana waited.

“We sort of made him feel bad about not giving you a wedding and depriving your from wearing a white dress-”

“They did.” Merlin chimed in.

The humor in Morgana’s eyes was immediately replaced with disbelief - and then an angry expression. “You did what? Arthur!”

“I’m sorry, Morgana but…huh” Merlin shifted and Arthur tightened his hold on him. “He’s really heavy, Morgana. Please, just let us in and I will tell you all.”

“Fine,” Morgana conceded and backed away from the entrance.

“Come on, Merlin. Just a few more steps.” Arthur instructed as he began to drag his friend inside.

“I told you she’d let us in.” Merlin winked at Morgana and blew her a kiss as the two passed her.

“Shut up, Merlin.” Arthur closed the door behind him.

They made their way towards the living room when Morgana stopped them. “Where are you going?”

“To put him on the sofa.”

“No, take him to the bedroom.” Morgana gestured to her left where hers and Merlin’s bedroom was at. “You can’t expect him to spend the night on the couch, now do you?”

“Oh God, Morgana. It’s ten meters away and I’ve been practically carrying him all the way from the car. I’m tired.”

“You should have thought of that first before you got him to this state.”

“I hate you.” Arthur mumbled but Morgana heard it.

“But I don’t. I love you...so much,” Merlin reached for her hand and Morgana met him halfway.

She squeezed his hand, “I love you too.”

“I love all of you.” Merlin hummed, “I love your smile. I love your laugh. I love your hair. I love your lips. I love...”

“Oh please, don’t start this again.” Arthur pleaded, “You’ve already jabbered about this in the car.”

“I have?”

“Yes,”

“What was the last thing I said?”

“Something about your wife’s shitty attitude.”

“That doesn’t sound right. I would never say that.”

Morgana snickered, “What else do you love about me, Merlin?”

Arthur growled, irritated by her.

“Your lips, I love them...”

“You already said that.”

Morgana switched on the lights of her bedroom.

“... and I love waking up next to you and making love to you and the sounds you make...”

Arthur strode towards the bed and practically tossed Merlin on top of it.

“Hey…” Morgana hissed at her brother and rushed to check on her husband who didn’t seem affected by what happened.

“All right, enough. I don’t want to hear about this.”

“You didn’t have to drop him like that. I didn’t even remove the top sheets.”

“How many times do I need to tell you? He's heavy.” Arthur snapped and started to stretch his arms, “You could have at least helped me instead of yelling at me.”

Morgana fluffed a pillow and began to fix its position under Merlin’s head. “In case you forgot, I am supposed to avoid lifting anything that’s heavy. I am pregnant, Arthur. And I am due in a month.”

“Ahh….I almost forgot about them.”

“What are you talking about?”

“About what?”

“I love your new breasts.”

One of the perks of being pregnant was her breasts growing bigger. Merlin's favourite.

Since Morgana was still hovering on top of him, Merlin made grabby hands.

Morgana shook her head and slapped one of his hands away gently. “Behave. We have guests.”

Gasping, Arthur’s eyes widened. “I’m leaving now. I’m getting married tomorrow. I can’t stay up late.”

He ran out of there.

“Good night, Arthur.” She called after him.

When they heard the front door closing, Morgana looked down at her husband. All signs of his insobriety were gone. Well, almost all of them.

She met his sober gaze and smiled. “That bad, huh?”

Merlin nodded and rose to a sitting position. “An hour after we got to the pub, I think it finally dawned on him that he was getting married the next day.”

Morgana sat down on the edge of the bed, “What did he do?”

“He started browsing for a plane ticket. We had to think of something.”

Warm muscular arms slipped around her waist and she leaned her head back against his shoulder, gazing up into blue eyes. “It worked. That’s the important thing even if it meant you had to pretend to be drunk.”

They fell into silence for several moments before Merlin broke it when he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m really sorry for not giving you a proper wedding.”

In that moment she was certain she saw something in his eyes - something akin to remorse. And she didn’t like it. “If I remember correctly, it was my idea, Merlin. If anyone should be sorry then it should be me.”

“Did you want to have a wedding?”

“I’ll be lying if I said, I didn’t want one. I just….” Morgana shifted so she could face him. He had to see her face when she said this, “...I simply didn’t need it, Merlin. But I needed you with me. I need you today, tomorrow and I want you to be with me for the rest of our lives. And I didn’t need a wedding for that to happen. So why would I be upset about it?”

Merlin smiled as he leaned over to kiss her. It was a soft kiss, not demanding but more inquisitive. “You want me then?”

“Always.” She said with a sigh, running her fingers through his hair. “We should make use of these new breasts. They are not going to last forever.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

[witch-and-a-half]

playing house

okay so i loved this concept for my first charlie fic but i kind of had to chase the story around? if that makes sense. so it’s a bit longer than i intended and i’m not sure i love it but it was a good first attempt. its also kinda hard to write the weasley’s and i want to get better at it but its such a difficult mix of main and side characters and they all had to be young here too... hopefully i didn’t botch ginny to badly !!!

( i also used this site to figure out how old everybody would be, but its basically just a year before ron starts at hogwarts )

notes: charlie weasley x reader, fluff, no specific house, summer before 7th year

words: 3.1k

- - -

“You’re sure you’ll be fine?” Molly stood in front of the Burrow fireplace, carefully studying you and Charlie. Arthur came down the stairs with a trunk in hand and his favorite cap on. “They can handle it Mollykins. By this time next year, they’ll be finished with school and out on their own, it won’t kill them to get a bit of practice.” He chortled as he came to stand beside his wife.

Molly’s voice raised an octave, “With five young children?”

Arthur just nodded his head in defeat as Charlie spoke, “We’ll be alright, mum, really. It’s barely a weekend, and if there’s an emergency we’ll send for you.” He tightened his arm around you as he spoke. Molly exhaled deeply and her shoulders relaxed.

“Oh alright… but if there is any trouble you let us know!” She waggled her fingers at the two of you and Arthur made eye contact with you before giving a subtle eye roll.

“Of course, Molly. We just want you to have a good trip.” You smiled.

Charlie chuckled, “Yeah Mum, geez. Promise you’ll at least try to relax.”

Molly scoffed before pulling your boyfriend and yourself into a tight hug. Then, she and Arthur took floo powder into their hands and disappeared to a beach house where Charlie had arranged for them to spend the next two days. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous about watching the Weasley clan, but you also knew how proud Charlie was to be giving his mother a much-needed break, and there was something kind of fun about the challenge of wrangling the red-heads.

The green fire in the fireplace had barely dissipated when you heard a scream from upstairs. “Oh, Merlin…” Charlie groaned before heading up the staircase, and you followed close behind. Before you could figure out where the wailing was coming from, one of the twins came racing out of Ron’s bedroom. Charlie swiftly blocked him with his arm and, leaning down, whispered, “You’d better be sat on the couch waiting for us when we come down, or else I’ll have [y/n] give you the leg-lock curse and you won’t be able to move until Mum gets back.” The twelve-year-old looked up at you suspiciously before sprinting down the stairs.

“You won’t really make me curse your little brother, will you?” You raised your brows at Charlie. He shrugged playfully in response, “Depends on if he’s on the couch or not.”

When you opened the door to Ron’s room, half his bed was up in flames and he was cowered in the corner. You were about to start panicking when Charlie groaned and murmured, “Not again…”

“Again?” You cried as Charlie took out his wand to put the fire out. As he did so, you turned your attention to Ron, who was beginning to seem more irritated than scared. “What happened?” You asked gently.

“They’re pyros!” He said spitefully. Ron recovered quite quickly and ran off when Charlie told him the Ginny had been looking for him—which you knew was a lie.

Charlie took your hand and started to head back downstairs. Pausing at the top of the staircase, he turned back and called out, “George! You’d better be in the living room in 30 seconds or else.”

When you got downstairs, you found Fred sitting on the couch. He was eating a box of Bertie Bott’s that he was definitely not supposed to have at 10am, but at least he was on the couch. Percy was standing next to the couch with his arms folded, glowering at his little brother. Charlie pulled you to sit beside him on the loveseat opposite Fred, and you heard George’s feet scurrying down the stairs.

“Oi, so Perce is just here to watch us get in trouble?” Fred said through a mouthful of beans.

“As always,” George mumbled as he sat beside his brother.

Charlie inhaled deeply and you braced yourself for the stern lecture he had prepared, but his voice came out gentler than you’d expected, “For the love of Merlin, will you two please just cool it for a day?” Fred and George’s faces scrunched with suspicion, and Percy looked a bit disappointed that his brothers weren’t being punished satisfactorily. Charlie continued, “If you don’t give us too much trouble, I promise we’ll give you a reward before Mum and Dad get back.”

The twins’ faces lit up at the mention of a reward before they turned to look at each other. They silently deliberated together, and Charlie squeezed your hand. You knew he didn’t have any such thing planned, but his quick thinking was impressive enough.

“Okay.” Fred said slowly, “We won’t deliberately cause any high-impact trouble.”

Charlie chuckled, “That’s all I ask,”

George stood, “But we will be expecting a good prize.”

Giving them a nod, Charlie squeezed your hand again. That’s when you had an idea, “How about you three go practice Quidditch? That way you’ll be prepared for tryouts when school starts.”

Percy didn’t look excited about this, but he dutifully followed the twins out of the house anyway.

“Good one.” Charlie pecked you on the cheek and you rested your head on his shoulder.

After a few moments, you looked up at Charlie, whose hand had found your thigh and was rubbing mindless circles with his thumb. “What prize are you planning for them?” You asked.

Charlie scoffed, “Dunno. We’ll think of something.” You rolled your eyes as he gave you a cheeky grin.

~ ~ ~

Fred, George, and Percy were still in the yard on their broomsticks as the sun began to set. Ron and Ginny were playing Wizarding Chess at the dining table while you and Charlie were making dinner. He was chopping vegetables to roast while you were cooking some chicken on the stovetop.

The silence was a bit eerie, so you asked Charlie one of your favorite questions: “Tell me about your dreams for the future again Charles.”

He chuckled, mostly to himself, before telling you again, “I want to run off and work with dragons. Maybe somewhere far away. Just go and see where Dragonology leads me… or I guess any other work with magical animals… but I’d like dragons.”

You beamed and prepared to ask him to tell you more about dragons—just to hear him drone on about the thing he was most passionate about. But you glanced up at him before you spoke. He was already looking at you when your eyes met his. Charlie wore a bold grin and there was a brightness in his eyes that you adored. For a moment, you just looked at each other contentedly from across the kitchen.

Charlie broke eye contact first. His eyes flicked downwards for a split second as he opened his mouth, but he was staring back into your eyes before he spoke. “And you’re there. With me… if you’d like.”

At first, you thought you were going to cry. Charlie had never said anything like that to you. Sure, you’d been together for a little over a year now and had been friends for years before, but you weren’t quite sure what the plan was for when the two of you graduated. You had a few different ideas of what you wanted to do after Hogwarts—you’d always envied the way Charlie had known what he wanted since before he even started school—and any of your possible plans were flexible enough that you could move or travel with Charlie. The prospect of adventuring with the love of your life was exhilarating. You pictured a little cottage on an animal reserve where you and Charlie could spend every evening making dinner together and chatting about your days. Maybe you could start a garden out front and spend your days off taking little trips to faraway places.

Charlie’s expectant face brought you quickly back down to earth. “Oh,” you exhaled dreamily, “Yes. Of course, I want to be there.”

You swiftly turned off the stovetop before hurrying into Charlie’s outstretched arms. He wrapped them around you tightly, and your head was pressed firmly to his chest. His woodsy cologne enveloped you. Charlie rested his chin on the top of your head and quietly exhaled, “I can’t wait.”

~ ~ ~

Dinner and bedtime was a bit hectic but relatively uneventful. You couldn’t tell if Ron and Ginny were just on their best behavior for you and Charlie or if the twins had told them about the secret reward. When you asked Charlie about it, he just shrugged and said, “I try not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially when it comes to this lot.”

Once all the kids were in bed and you had cleaned up from dinner, Charlie sunk into one of the living room chairs, grabbing your hips along the way so you were sat across his lap. “You really want to come run away with me after school ends?” His voice was low and dreamy but tinged slightly with worry.

His one arm was wrapped around your middle, but the other rested in your lap. You wrapped both of your hands around his before responding, “Of course. I’d love nothing more.” Then you pressed a kiss to his cheek and felt him smile under your lips.

“Let’s go to bed,” He whispered and you stood, following him up the stairs to his room.

~ ~ ~

You woke the next morning wrapped in Charlie’s arms. The sun was up and light flooded the window of his room, but Charlie was still snoring lightly. For a minute, you let your mind wander: imagining waking up like this every day. The thought alone made your heart soar. After a while, you whispered, “Psst, Charlie, we should get up.”

He groaned in response and the arm around your back pulled you closer. “Mmm… not yet.” He murmured sleepily. It was so tempting, but then you imagined Fred and George setting the kitchen ablaze making breakfast, so you wriggled out of Charlie’s strong arms. “Suit yourself…” You said, standing.

Charlie’s eyes were still closed but his arms were playfully outstretched, hoping you were still within reach.

“Hm… maybe I’ll just wear one of your shirts to make breakfast…” Charlie’s eyes shot open quick enough to see you grab his shirt off the dresser and dart out his bedroom door.

Charlie groaned again before pulling himself out of bed and following you to the kitchen. You were standing at the sink in his shirt and pajama shorts, filling up the kettle to make tea. He pecked you on the cheek just before reaching into the cupboard above your head. As Charlie made toast, you asked, “Have you thought of a prize for everybody’s good behavior?”

His voice was still heavy with sleep when he responded, “Not sure yet. Maybe we could all go into town for ice cream cones?”

Before you could agree to the idea, Fred, George, and Ron marched into the room chanting, “Ice cream, ice cream, ice cream!” They were still in their pajamas and had messier hair than normal.

“Only if you can keep it together for another couple hours,” Charlie warned as Ron grabbed the toast that Charlie had just finished putting jam on. You giggled at Charlie’s exasperation, which dissipated when he saw your smile.

A few minutes later, Percy and Ginny had joined you all at the table. “We need to de-gnome the garden before Mum and Dad get back and I also think we should probably clean a bit…”

Ron groaned into his glass of milk and Ginny giggled beside him. You caught her eye and gave her a smile that she shyly reciprocated.

“We can split up the work?” You suggested to Charlie, “I can take whoever wants to tidy up inside and you can take the rest outside?”

He nodded. Charlie ended up taking Ron and the twins into the garden to de-gnome, and Percy and Ginny stayed behind to help you make sure everything got put away correctly. After cleaning up the downstairs, Percy agreed to clean the boys’ rooms—including replacing Ron’s charred pillows from the day before—while you helped Ginny with her room and the bathrooms.

You chatted a bit with the youngest Weasley, asking her about the posters on her wall and what sort of things she liked to do. She was still a bit shy around you—maybe she was a little unsure about having another girl in the house—but was warming up quickly. The two of you finished cleaning as Percy changed Ron’s bed sheets, so you turned to Ginny and whispered, “How about we go make lemonade for the boys since we’ve finished first?”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Okay!”

Ron, Charlie, Fred, and George came in—flushed from the warm weather—only a few minutes after Percy finished upstairs. Charlie noticed the lemonade right as he came in, giving you a grateful peck on the cheek. Ginny proudly gave her brothers their glasses of lemonade, and George gave her an appreciative pat on the head. It was a very domestic moment, and, with Charlie’s arm wrapped around your waist and the gaggle of redheads in front of you, there was a sudden pang in your chest. It was as if Charlie could read your mind. He suddenly pulled you slightly toward him and caught your lips with his, which were sweet with lemonade.

“Ach-” One of the twins cried.

“I think we all should get sprinkles for having to witness that,” The other said, with raised brows.

Charlie just rolled his eyes.

Then Ron piped up from the table, “When are we getting ice cream…?”

Ginny’s eyes brightened. Maybe nobody had told her about the ice cream trip.

~ ~ ~

You held Charlie’s hand as you trailed behind the younger kids. The afternoon was warm but not too humid, and the sun shone through the tree branches onto the path ahead. When you reached the town, Charlie led the way to the ice cream parlor. Everyone got to pick out a flavor and a cone before sitting at one of the plastic tables outside to eat. Listening to the Weasley family chat and joke as though you were part of the family made your heart soar. Percy told you about the classes he was taking this year and Ron showed you a Chocolate Frog card he had stuffed in his pocket.

As everyone finished their cones, Fred noticed a store across the street with colorful toys in the window. “Charlie we have to go in there,” He pointed, transfixed on the storefront. Charlie glanced around the table, “Fred, not everybody is done with their ice cream.”

“I don’t mind. I can wait with [y/n].” Ginny took another lick of her ice cream, which was beginning to melt. Charlie caught your eye, noticing the excitement on your face, “Okay, meet us in there when you’re done, Gin.” He stood and walked the boys across the street.

Ginny looked over to you, still licking her cone, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” You smiled.

“Do you love Charlie?” Ginny asked. She was suddenly much bolder now that she’d warmed up to you. The tone of her voice was just casual enough to counterbalance the determination in her eyes. You were almost more taken aback by her tact than by the question itself.

After a moment, you decided to be honest, “Yes, I do love Charlie. Is that okay?”

Ginny seemed satisfied with your answer and gave a sturdy nod, “Okay,” She took a bite of her cone and looked at you intently. You weren’t sure what to say, or if you should say anything at all, but Ginny didn’t seem to mind the silence. She spoke again after a minute, “I like your fingernail polish.”

~ ~ ~

The trek back from town tired everyone out, just in time for Mrs. and Mr. Weasley to return. When they appeared in the fireplace, Ron and Percy were playing some sort of Wizarding card game, Charlie was going over Gryffindor Quidditch plays with the twins, and you were painting Ginny’s nails the same shade of blue you wore. Everyone sprung to their feet to greet Molly and Arthur, and Charlie motioned for you to stand beside him.

“See! They’re all alive,” Arthur exclaimed to his wife, who playfully slapped his chest. She looked at you reassuringly, “I didn’t doubt it!” and starting doling out hugs.

“How was your trip?” Charlie said as his mother wrapped her arms tightly around his middle.

She beamed, “Oh lovely. We sat by the beach, had a nice dinner, and explored the little town…”

Her voice softened as she hugged you, “Thank you so much, dear. Hopefully, they weren’t too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all…” You said earnestly. Charlie finished the sentence for you though, “After the fire everything went swimmingly.”

Molly spun to Fred and George, who were giving Charlie a death glare. “A fire?” She cried, “Oh you two…” But she just shook her head at them.

After Molly and Arthur put their trunks upstairs, they found you and Charlie in the kitchen making dinner. “Oh, you two… have a rest!” Arthur chortled, shooing you away from the stovetop. Molly pulled you aside, but Charlie quickly joined beside you.

“I simply must pay you two for watching everyone,” Molly pulled out a coin purse but Charlie reached out a hand to stop her. “Mum…” His voice was warm, but still held a hint of warning.

“Molly, it was no trouble, really. We wanted to do it.” You cut in. Charlie’s hand wordlessly found yours as you spoke. His warm broad fingers wrapping around yours lovingly.

Mrs. Weasley bit her lip, thinking for a moment. Charlie’s stern gaze made her exhale in resignation. “Alright then… if you’re sure. But I plan on returning the favor for you one day.”

It seemed as though she didn’t realize the weight of her words as she left the kitchen to unpack. Your face flushed and Charlie’s hand tightened around yours. He looked at you with a vague, soft smile and a look that you couldn’t quite read. Before you could say anything, Arthur’s chuckle cut into the silence, “She doesn’t mean anytime soon though.”

Now Charlie’s cheeks were red. He didn't meet your eyes but pulled you outside to sit on the back stoop. Neither of you spoke as you watched the sunset. Charlie’s arm was wrapped firmly around your waist and your head rested on his shoulder. It was fun to think about the future, but, in that moment, you were just grateful for the present.

[starsandmoonys]

Very important question ahead: Thoughts on Percy/Oliver? I am so tempted to make an entire blog i’m obsessed ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Okaaay this really took looong, I'm sorry. 🥺 But I've been quite busy. And then it took me a while to construct a percy/Oliver relationship because I haven't thought about it before but honestly daaaamn I liked it..so here's some headcanons. And please do start a blog, I'll be the first follower. ❤️❤️

---------

It's a classic NerdJock thing. 

Oliver wakes up really early, due to all the before sunrise Quidditch practices. Percy doesn't. He's not exactly a night owl. But he wakes at reasonable hours. 

Percy wasn't open about his feelings for a long time. 

Oliver pined a lot. 

I think in canon they shared a dorm. 

They were roommates ;). 

One bed? No, Percy hated sharing beds and Oliver doesn't stay in bed that much anyway.

When Percy came out as gay to his family, it pushed Ginny to come out as bi too. Because she saw how the Weasleys were open and understanding.

Molly adores Oliver. 

Arthur and Ron bond with him over Quidditch.

Ginny can't see a better role model in her Quidditch career. The argument and discussions makes Percy jealous because his family is stealing his boyfriend. 

THE TWINS. 

Oh they won't let them live it out..

The teasing and pranks. I mean obviously they knew about this before even the boys themselves knew. And they were the biggest supporters and first shippers. 

Their team captain and their favourite brother to tease. They love it. 

But the twins are the twins and this is good prank material, they're gonna milk it.

Since it's NerdJock I'm gonna throw the 'oliver pretended to need help with school so he can be with Percy most times' 

Percy wasn't big on Quidditch matches, but when he got together with Oliver. He started to go to matches to watch his boyfriend and bit by bit became very enthusiastic about it..he gets mad at anyone who dares touch his boyfriend during matches. 

Percy in Oliver's Jersey. :'))

One match after Oliver's team wins, he flies straight to Percy and Percy basically jumps on him from the excitement. "MERLIN OLIVER, YOU'RE THE GREATEST PLAYER, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!" And he crushes him in a hug.

That was the first time he ever said it. He realises what just happened and he's too embarrassed and shy to even break the hug. 

Oliver is shocked and smitten from how cute his boyfriend is being.

He pulls him away just enough to look him in the face. "I love you too, Percy" he says to a really red faced boy, it almost matches his hair. 

That was basically the first time they exchanged 'i love you's

"I know I'm a keeper, but I definitely scored tonight"

"Don't be cheesy"

"I think I get to be cheesy tonight, babe. No, actually I'm gonna be cheesy everyday from now on."

Then they kissed right there on the field in the middle of the celebrations. 

--------

Okay, so that's all I could come up with ❤️. I hope you like it. :')). Thank you for the ask tho. That was amazing. :')

[namelessayakashi]

Let's do 10 & 7 with Merlin and Arthur haha cause we can just get all of the headcanons for these two lovely idiots

Ahhh okay i like those ones, I have lots of thoughts about 10 especially—

Tbh I got rly excited when you said you were going to be sending me more bc I love doing these

Okay!

7. Piercings or Tattoos?

Arthur

Piercings, 100% I believe Arthur would be a piercings guy. He'd get his tongue pierced in a modern au to get back at Uther for being a dick. I stand by that belief.

But he wouldn't be opposed to getting a tattoo, and probably would after some tempting from Merlin

Merlin

Contrary to Arthur—I see Merlin as tattoos. He would have all sorts of tattoos, especially magical ones. I like to think he'd get a large dragon tattoo across his back (bc he fucking loves dragons), and Arthur would melt when he saw it. I just love the idea of Merlin with tons of tattoos, especially magical tattoos.

Though, as payment for tempting Arthur into a tattoo, Merlin would totally get a piercing, but nothing too obtrusive or noticeable. Probably just another ear piercing (bc he totally has them pierced), maybe an upper ear piercing that I can't think of the name of right now.

10. Physical or Verbal Affection?

Ahaha this is the fun one, I've thought so much about.

Arthur

The answer I have for Arthur is 100% dependent on whether he's giving the affection or receiving it.

Giving: Physical. Arthur is so much better at showing how he feels than putting it into words, due to his upbringing with Uther. So, he shows his affection through touch. It's how he knows how. He struggles to be verbally affectionate, never quite able to say what he means, although he still tries. He speaks sweet words and compliments and names, but he never can quite find the right ones to express how deeply he feels, because his love is so great it's overwhelming, and it's a feeling he's so unused to. So, he shows his affection through actions, and though touch, no matter how small or large, hoping that the receiving end will understand the silent declarations he's trying to get across.

Recieving: Verbal. Now, I have my reason for this, because yes I hc that Arthur is incredibly touch starved and would speak the love language of physical affection for both giving and receiving, but hear me out here. Arthur didn't grow up with much praise and verbal expressions of affection from his father. He grew up with commands, with 'you could do betters', with expectations for him held so high that he could hardly reach them enough to get a polite 'good job.' Noimnotprojectinglisten. So, when he grows up, and someone genuinely praises him for the first time, not because he's prince or because it's polite even if it's not meant, but because they genuinely thought he deserved the praise, his heart stutters, and his face flushes, and he does NOT stammer because a Prince does not stammer! But he remembers it, and he remembers how good it felt, and he craves it again, he craves more, because it made him feel proud of himself. So when Merlin stumbles into his life, insulting and praising him in the same sentence on an almost daily basis, his heart feels it may explode because it just feels so nice to be told that he's going to be a great king, that he's making someone proud, that he's someone's best friend, that he's loved. It feels so good to be told he's loved.

Merlin

Physical. Growing up with his mother in Ealdor, Merlin was exposed to so many tender touches and loving embraces, forehead kisses and hands held tight. It became the easiest and best way for him to express how much someone meant to him–one touch could say a thousand things that no words ever could. Words would fade, but the loving touch of another would always linger on your skin. So, moving from Ealdor where he was used to daily hugs and head kisses and shoulder pats from his mother and playful fights and more hugs and affectionate hits from Will, to Camelot where everyone was so...impersonal, and no one touched anyone like they did back home... It was a huge change. He had to adapt. The biggest way he showed his affection and care, was something he couldn't do without fear of upsetting someone or breaking some etiquette code. There was Arthur, though, who he snuck in touches to as he readied him for the day, night, battle, training, etc. He let his hands linger a moment to long, brushed his hair out of his face, purposefully antagonized him just for the playful bump in the shoulder or wack on the head. And then there were the knights, who gradually Merlin became more and more Physical with until it was common to see him cuffing Gwaine upside the head, leaning against Percival for a nap while he shirked his duties, hugging Lance in greeting and goodbye, slinging his arm around Elyan's shoulder while he told him a story of his earlier days with Arthur, and even holding Leon's hand on occasion when he was feeling a bit more anxious than usual or just knew something would go wrong but Arthur wouldn't listen. Arthur was the one he was the most Physical with, always touching him in some way or another, even absentmindedly placing kisses on his forehead that no one dared point out for fear of the King's wrath if Merlin stopped out of embarrassment.

Merlin is an incredibly physically affectionate person.

Send me a number & character (or multiple) and I'll tell you my headcanon!

[merlinholidays]

Guide: Creating Prompts

Sign ups are going up soon and that means it’s time to fill in your likes and make your prompts. For some of us, the idea of making those prompts is a daunting thing, and maybe it’s sometimes tempting to just leave it blank.

But prompts are important for your gifter! So they can:

Understand you better

Find inspiration

Create something for you that you will enjoy

Even if it doesn’t matter to you what you receive, remember that a good set of prompts will give your gifter inspiration and drive to create! Think of it as a gift of sorts to the person who is paired with you!

For this reason, we’ve made a little guide to remind you of different types of prompts you can use. We hope it might give you some inspiration! We have split it into writing prompts and art prompts, since the two can be quite different.

Writing Prompts

There are many ways you can create writing prompts, and different writers like different things, but we have collected some tips/ideas for you:

Keep it short-ish:

Some people find it difficult to work with very long and detailed prompts. If the prompt outlines the whole story, it often feels very restrictive and allows no room for creativity. It’s more inspiring if your prompt leaves room for the writer to mix their own ideas with yours to interpret your prompt in a creative way. Try to create a prompt that acts as a guide rather than a complete story outline.

The One Word Prompt:

A simple solution, but a classic: the one word prompt. It’s simple and sometimes very effective and the gifter can easily combine it with another prompt if they want to. It can be:

Something sensory (like a color, a smell, etc)

Time-related (a season, a weekday, a certain time)

Interesting and uncommon words, or words from foreign languages

One thing to avoid can be extremely general words like “Christmas”. Instead, pick something about Christmas that invokes a more specific response, such as “mistletoe”, or “carolling” or “candles”.

The Poetry or Song Lyric Prompt:

Include a passage from your favorite poem or song lyric as an inspiration for a prompt, or link to the whole poem/song!

The Image Prompt:

One that we don’t see used as much anymore but image prompts are a great way to add variation to your prompts, and for many, the visual aspect triggers ideas. Maybe you can find an image that represents a mood you would enjoy, for example.

The Scenario Prompt:

Give a scenario that says something about a setting, a possible conflict, character traits, etc. How much info you include is obviously up to you.

Example:

Arthur and Merlin meet in the elevator at a hotel. When they exit it, everything has changed.

Morgana is tired of her city life and moves to a cabin in the woods to write a book. Enter Gwen.

The Trope Prompt:

Another tried and true staple is the trope prompt! Giving a trope or collection of tropes you like is a great jumping off point. Fake relationship with a side of hurt/comfort? Slow burn enemies to lovers? Was there only one bed?

Combine with a scenario to create a more specific prompt!

Variations:

Sometimes listing variations or further examples can spark more ideas. If you want a fic about dragons, you could include different versions of what that fic might look like.

Example:

I would love a fic about dragons! Maybe pet dragons are common. Or dragons suddenly return to the modern world after having been gone for hundreds of years. Maybe dragons are an extension of the magic user like daemons in His Dark Materials.

Art Prompts

Artists are unsurprisingly visual creatures, but sometimes it’s difficult to come up with prompts that are aimed specifically at inspiring an artist. Art is often a single image that captures a moment, and a lot of writing prompts that outline a story idea make it hard for an artist to pinpoint that moment. Here are some ideas for writing inspiring art prompts for those of you who are nominating art as a gift you would enjoy receiving. 

The one word prompt works for art as well, just look at Inktober! Something as simple as “mermaids” or “wings” works well for art when used in concert with your favourite character, ship and preferred rating.

A strong visual idea is always good when you would love to receive a specific image, especially when paired with some context. Your artist can easily work with a prompt such as your favourite pair cuddling on Christmas morning, a feeling of happiness, forehead kisses and opened gifts, whereas an open non-specific prompt like “Christmas morning” doesn’t give your artist much to go on.

Open but contextual prompts are great for art when you don’t have a specific idea. Telling your artist that you would prefer art in a modern AU setting always helps to set the scene. If you add “meet-cute” to a flower-shop AU, your artist has a moment or a scene to work with. If you say that you want to see a missing scene from your favourite episode, your artist could come up with a canon-age visual you’ve been craving. Or perhaps you’ve always wanted to see your faves in a certain movie AU? Your artist could transform their appearance for your Yule treat.

Giving your artist the option to illustrate for one of your fics could also be a great way to inspire a piece of art. It should be a fic they can easily access and that isn’t too long, which they can read and get on with making a piece of art for you. It shouldn’t be anything that has already received fanart or that has been a part of a big bang or collaboration with an artist, so your gifter doesn’t feel like they’re competing with anyone. You could specify which stories you’d like to see art for, or give your artist free rein to explore your works and find something they’d be interested in illustrating.

Tropey prompts can also work well but it’s good to give your artist some guidance or context. Prompts such as “hurt/comfort” or “angst” are too open by themselves, but can work very well to inspire art of an intense moment when paired with some keywords like “animal/creature attack” or “post-battle bathing”, “being carried” or “huddling for warmth”. Prompts such as “fluff” or “first time” are also ambiguous, but paired with keywords like “ugly Christmas sweaters” or “teaching to ice-skate”,  “frantic kisses” or “sex by the fireplace” can make all the difference to an artist searching for a visual flavor you would enjoy.

Poems and song-lyrics can work for artists, but can also be very open to interpretation and aimed at conveying a feeling rather than an image. Instead, you could write a short piece of prose or dialogue to inspire your artist.

Example:

“Sleep. I’ll keep you safe,” - conveys the visual of someone standing guard over their sleeping or injured companion.

“There are leaves in your hair, let me get those for you,” - conveys a fluffy moment or hair touching and blushy, shy smiles.

Mix it up:

This year we’re asking you to write at least 5 prompts to give your gifter plenty to work with and to choose from. As mentioned, different creators like different things so our best tip is to mix up different types of prompts. That way, it’s more likely that something will jump out at your gifter!

[amatchforyourmadness]

retourne-toi

Chapter: 1/10

Words: 2210

Summary:

“Arthur." Merlin's voice calls, through the haze of cold and the devastation of death. He lays his forehead against Arthur's back, in-between his shoulder blades when he refuses to turn, blinking the tears from his gaze and holding his head high. “Arthur.” Merlin pleads, forehead still against his back, long fingers holding tightly onto the king's arms, before he rises his face to press a kiss to the back of Arthur's neck and noses along his hair. “Turn around.”

(in which Arthur goes back in time, to find Merlin right after having lost him).

[AO3 link]

“You're not walking out of this cave with me, are you?”

It's a slow realization, and a heavy one. It’s always that way with Merlin though, and he struggles with the matter of breathing faced by the revelations of the weights the brunette behind him carry on his shoulders with a smile, all hard decisions in his name for years on end without his knowledge.

He thinks of what it took of him, to realize Arthur wouldn't make it, to turn from his course to Avalon and towards the crystal cave, using of his blood and Arthur's to reach back into time and into a second chance.

“Alll magic has a price, Arthur.” He sounds so serene, almost whimsical, and Arthur feels like a girl for thinking those things, but maybe it's just the fact that he is about to lose him. “I can't bend all laws of balance to my favour.”

“You did not tell me of this price. You did not say, it would be you.”

“It was me or you, sire.” He says, and it takes all of him to not smack him across the face when he listens to the smile in his voice, sucking a breath sharply as his Merlin’s finger reach to brush over the side of his chainmail where Mordred had ran him through, now only tender flesh and mended skin. “It's not hard to guess what my choice would be.”

He wants to cry, because it was true. He often forgot that Merlin drank poison for him two weeks into knowing him, because the list of almost deaths was so extensive it was hard to keep track now that he knew it all, the softly whispered confession of Merlin's voice had been his one distraction in the arduous way through the cave. He struck a bargain for Arthur's life with his, he fought and killed Nimueh, he fought Morgana countless times, he was captured by a troll in the dungeons, Alator, there had been the Lamia, the fomorroh, the dorocha, and so much more.

The walk through the cave was long and arduous, and after they — well, Merlin — had opened the portal through the core crystal, it has been dark and cold. Merlin had warned him he could not turn back, because if he looked behind him, to the future they were abandoning, they'd be back into the cave, he would bleed to death in Merlin's arms, and everything would have been in vain.

Still, time was a funny thing in the cave. Merlin said there had been barely hours between the moment they had walked in and now, but it felt like months. Had he been alone, Arthur would surely go mad, but he wasn't. He demanded his truth, and Merlin told him, easily and freely — too easily, too freely — and he should have known.

Merlin was born with magic, he was the warlock of a prophecy regarding Arthur, he was the most powerful warlock to ever live, he was meant to protect Arthur. His father had been Balinor, he had loved a girl once, the girl had died. Will hadn't been the sorcerer, he had. Lancelot knew, because he has enchanted his spear. Back then, he had planned to be the sacrifice, but Lancelot had gone ahead and spared him.

Arthur couldn't be more thankful, and even though he couldn't look back, he reached for Merlin's hands, and he interwined his pale fingers with Arthur's. His hand was colder than usual, but warmer than the cave. Merlin had whispered his biggest confession so softly Arthur has barely heard it over the heavy thumping of his heart. How a small, magical nobody of Ealdor had loved the Prince of Camelot for as long as he could remember. He had had to stop, to kneel in the damp ground and let the stupid man hug him from behind, holding onto his hands and arms as tightly as he could, sobbing on heartbreak and joy as he told him about a King who had once been a Prince and who realised he loved a stupid, brave and selfless boy in the moment he had seen him on a bed, dying from a poison he drank for him.

‘All this time and you never told me?’ Merlin has whispered, chuckling softly though his voice too had been heavy with tears. ‘Who are you to say anything?', he had retorted with a snort, ‘You've magic and you've been in love with me too, you're the bigger fool.’

Merlin's lips had brushed his shoulder as he pressed the words, warm and meaningful against his chainmail.

'The best kept secrets of Camelot.’

Time was a funny thing in the cave. They had confessed their love merely moments ago, he knew. It has been sweet and warm and glorious, and Arthur had never been as happy, not even when he married Gwen, not even when he saw Merlin defy death to return to him time after time.

Now he felt like he had never been as unhappy. The tears that spring to his eyes once more were not of joy. He felt like he might die at any moment.

But he wouldn't die, because who would die would be—

“I should have made you swear.” He whispers, voice and breath shaky at his innocence, his stupidity, his naivety in believing Merlin’s words. “I should have made you swear you wouldn’t put my life above yours, I should have made you swear you would be safe.”

“Old habits die heart, my King. Don’t hold what I chose to do against you.”

“I’m holding this against the both of us.”

The mouth of the cave was just ahead, and it was light and bright and wonderful, glowing with promises. And he didn't care for a single one of those, because Merlin wouldn't be with him. He lets his head hang forwards, limp and defeated and strangling all his words inside.

“Arthur." Merlin's voice calls, through the haze of cold and the devastation of death. He lays his forehead against Arthur's back, in-between his shoulder blades when he refuses to turn, blinking the tears from his gaze and holding his head high. “Arthur.” Merlin pleads, forehead still against his back, long fingers holding tightly onto the king's arms, before he rises his face to press a kiss to the back of Arthur's neck and noses along his hair. “Turn around.”

His breath gets stuck in the back of his throat for a moment before a mournful sound rips itself out of his lungs. He knows what he's asking, he knows what this means, he knows what will happen and he won't do that because if he does that—

“You will leave me.” He moaned, shaking his head and trying to pull from his grasp, to guide them into the light, to keep Merlin. Gods, he just wanted to keep Merlin. “If I look at you now, I'll walk out of this alone. You'll leave me.”

“Arthur..."

“Merlin, I cannot do this alone!”

“You won't be alone. I'll be with you, I've always been with you.”

“But he is not you.” He screams and his voice echoes, loudly  “I mean, he is you, but not this you. He does not know what happened, he won't know.” A shaky hand hovers above his and he squeezes tightly, hoping that if he holds him tightly enough he will understand. “He won't be you.”

He just wants to keep Merlin.

Can't he be allowed that?

“No, he will be better.” No one could be better, he doesn't want he to be better, why can't he see that? Why can't he see that? “When you tell him, he'll be frightened for a moment, but he won't be scared.” And be can hear in-between his words, ‘he won't be scared as I was’. “He won't grow skeptical and cynical, and he will know you care for him. And above all else, you will be you.” Merlin's spalms over his chest, right above his heart, a heart that should not be beating, and that will keep it's pulse if he looks back at the expense of his.  “You're all I ever needed to be great and brave, Arthur.”

“I don't want you to be great or brave. Lord knows you already are too much of both to your own good.” He murmurs, holding his hand tighter, still refusing to look back at Merlin. “I don't want you to change, I just want this.” 

He feel the ghost of Merlin's smile against the side of his neck.

“You're all I ever needed to love you too. It's true now, and it was true back then.” Arthur closed his eyes and waits for the other shoe to drop. Merlin can't just be sweet, he has to be an ass about it, call him a prat or something. “Hell, I know that I'll be happy to not have to wait as long to kiss you.”

The grin is involuntary, it's just his natural response to his cheekiness.

“Shut up, Merlin.”

“Not a chance, sire."

Time was a funny thing in the cave. They could have lived a lifetime here, he thinks. He feels stronger by the second, so he can hold tighter on Merlin's hand when the others' grisp falters. It's hard not to wonder what a lifetime shared with Merlin would be like, even in here, even if he could crown him, even if he couldn't see him.

His voice would be enough, his presence would be enough, the knowledge that no harm could reach him, even if the safe nest he had found is a long black corridor of stones and magic that he could barely see a palm ahead of him for the longest time.

And there, in the cold, hopeless dark there is just the same old temptation, whispered in a beloved voice, soft with defeat and heavy with premeditated loss.

“Turn around, Arthur.”

He's just too close to breaking, and if anyone in the world knows how to tempt a Prince of Camelot, it's Merlin. So he shuts his eyes and makes sure he can't see a thing as he turns to him, hands travelling up to his face before his lips steal any other traitorous words he might say from him, take his breath and give him his, and until it's just that perfect bubble where all that exist is them.

Time was a funny thing in the cave. He could have kissed Merlin for a millennia, and still it wouldn't feel enough. The kiss stretches into an eternity that sets fire to his chest, warms his heart and burns his lungs, and he needs air, but he also needs Merlin, so he pushes a little more. The fool tastes of blueberries, and he can only picture how many he stole from his plate when delivering him meals. His hands holds onto Merlin's hair and he can't say which of them let out that needy noise, but the need is mutual.

Still he needs air. Cursed air. He breaks the kiss, forcing himself to keep his eyes closed and leans his forehead against Merlin's, noses his cheek and along his jawline and down his neck. The cave echoes with their heavy breathing.

“Please, don't leave me.” He pleads again, and he hopes, he prays that this time he will listen.

Instead, Merlin presses his face against Arthur's, and breathes like he needs to strengthen himself for the moment they are to face.

“Find me, and I'll never leave you again.”

It's a promise, he knows, but it's not the one be wanted to hear. Still, Merlin hugs him, pulls him tightly against his body, and, finally, he gets his wish, because as Arthur hugs him back, this side of desperate, his hand finds a warm moistness that is too familiar. Arthur opens his eyes I horror, scarlet stained hands moving to hold onto Merlin's arms, to put some distance so he can try and make sense of what's happened.

“Oh my God.” He lets out, breathless and gutted.

He is smiling — heaven knows how this man can still smiles, despite everything — and the smile seems to show how hollow his cheeks have grown, skin sinking in the places flesh is lacking. He's thinner, so much thinner, and cold as death. And on his side, directly opposite to the one Arthur walked into the cave, clutching so his insides didn't fall out, Merlin bleeds his life away as if that didn't hurt at all.

That's when Arthur realizes: the magical explanation was bullshit, Merlin just couldn't let him turn and see the sacrifice he was committing even as they walked. He had traded his life for this spell, and he had traded his health for his and he could not bend the laws of magic to not demand their price.

Blue eyes start to glow golden, and he sinks his fingernails in the too-fragile shoulders.

“Merlin—"

“Rhethoen toa.”

He tries to scream, but it's like he's being blown away, torn from Merlin and into the blinding light

When his eyes open again, he's laid on his bed, years in the past, and a younger Merlin is opening the curtains with a bright smile.

“Rise and shine!”

[emrysarthurpendragon]

Whumptober day 3 | Alt: Comfort

Where am I?

 What happened to me?

 Arthur? Arthur, where are you?

 Am I dead? Maybe he killed me before I woke again? For our friendship’s sake?

 Merlin’s drifted back into darkness’s arms; he felt safe, for now.

* * *

 Arthur had been thinking. A lot. Near the fire, Merlin had been unconscious for the past hours and all the prince could focus on was how Merlin had magic. No. Not had, has. Gaius’s ward was still breathing, and this would not cease anytime soon. Not even with his … lies. Had Merlin been practising when they first met? Probably. This would explain all the weird incidents occurring when they ran after one another and how Arthur made a fool of himself. How powerful was his friend? He made an entire building fell into pieces. He made them transport without even being awake when it happened. That must be something! Even regarding wizards’ standards. Blue eyes fell on Lancelot. The knight had been keeping watch over Merlin since they arrived here. He tended to the serving boy’s wounds and never let them approach with weapons at hand’s reach. They all noticed healed scars on their friend’s body. Scars that faded long ago, but with terrible stories attached to them. He saw Merlin half-naked through the years. At least after they met, and the boy had no choice but change into dry clothing after their usual banters. Those were inflected to his manservant after he first came to the citadel. By whom? Noblemen bother by their strange friendship? Attackers? Whenever they were ambushed? No. Arthur snorted when he remembered Merlin cowering to avoid battle. Or was he? Strange things did happen when bandits or enemies of Camelot attack them. Branches fell with perfect timing on their opponents, saving their lives more than once. Was it Merlin? He needed to know. If not for his sake, for Merlin’s. If he were right, this could be proof enough all sorcerers were not filled by hatred and darkness. Merlin was the opposite. Kind. Good-hearted. Goofy. A weird sense of humour, which often involved making fun of his master. Selfless too. He sacrificed his own well-being for Arthur, working extra hours just so his amour would be clean for the next day, and then stumbling more than ever the next day. Still he saw nothing. There must have been signs. Hints toward Merlin’s secret. With a heavy sigh, Arthur stretched and walked to Lancelot. The man glared at him, gesturing to his sword and the prince left it a few steps behind before sitting next to both his knight and valet.

“How did you find out?” he asked after an uncomfortable silence. If Lancelot knew and said nothing, this must mean something.

“Remember the manticore’s quest? Merlin used magic to save me and kill that beast. I’ve known since then,” Lancelot said, smiling fondly at their sleeping friend. “Then, I started noticing things. Like how he protected us without getting credits for it.”

“And Emrys? He’s related to Merlin?”

“I…” Lancelot hesitated; Arthur knew the truth now. “Yes. Pretty much. That’s why Morgana questioned him. Merlin told me her power showed her future. In it, Emrys killed her during a terrible battle. Since then, she wanted to find out who he is and stop him at all costs.”

“I don’t understand. Percival said I’m supposed to work hand in hand with Emrys. Legend and destiny. If it’s true, where is Emrys now? Why doesn’t he show up and change my mind on magic?” they would not build that future if they were playing hide and seek together.

“That’s the trick. He’s already here. Hidden in plain view and going unnoticed among your people,” chuckled Lancelot, now noticing how close the others were. They started listening and Leon gasped, realisation filling his features.

“Merlin?” he asked in a low voice, his gaze unmoving while said boy breathed in and out. In and out. Unaware of his surroundings.

“What about Merlin?” Arthur asked, still oblivious. He just couldn’t imagine Gaius’s ward as a powerful being. Not even after what they witnessed earlier.

“Yes, Merlin He’s Emrys. He was born to protect you, Arthur. He would die to do so, if it means you stay alive.”

“But it’s stupid! Merlin can hurt himself with a spoon! If he were so powerful, he would be dead because he sneezes too hard and just blew his room up!” OK, kind of rude. Merlin was not so stupid. Or was he? “He can’t keep a secret. I would know. It’s not…”

“Merlin’s more than that. Just … talk with him. Give him a chance,” Lancelot asked.

 With the betrayal still burning him third degree, Arthur wanted to say no. The conflict feelings sent him various messages. Forgive or kill. Understanding or hatred. Decide never felt so difficult before. The prince he used to be when they met, his father’s puppet, roared with anger and wanted to deliver Merlin to the flames. His new self, the one with strong feelings for his servant stood proudly, facing whoever may hurt the brunet. He needed to listen. To understand Merlin’s side of the story. So he waited … night turns into daylight. Another afternoon started and night fell again when Merlin awoke. After their talk the previous day, Lancelot had relaxed enough to sleep. Arthur took first watch and noticed Merlin’s eyes fluttering open.

“Rise and shine,” the prince mocked his serving boy’s usual greeting. “How are you feeling? You … you scared us.” You scared me. I thought I’d lost you. Don’t ever do that to me again.

“I … what…” then it hit him. Arthur knew the exact moment Merlin remembered what happened and what he’d done. Merlin went into full panic attack mode and Arthur’s body reacted before he could think. His arms locked around Merlin’s waist and he whispered words he never thought he would say. Especially to a sorcerer.

“Shh … it’s okay, Merlin. You’re fine. You saved us,” he murmured, gently brushing a strand of black hair. Merlin jumped at the touch and Arthur felt a pang of worry. This man could be the death of him. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m still alive…” Merlin whispered, dumbfound. Why had Arthur did not kill him? He had plenty of time if he had been out all that time. Wait. Arthur was hugging him. He watched him with worried eyes and something else … was it … no. Not love. Arthur loves no one more than his own person; a royal prat. “I was supposed to die!” the warlock suddenly gasped, watching around them with fright. Why was he…? He made a choice. He picked his life as a sacrifice to the goddess. He had to give up everything, just so Arthur may have a long and peaceful life, with a queen and lots of kids running in the castle. But here he was, breathing and … his mind free of Morgana’s spell. Free of whatever had bothered him for the last few weeks. Even when he walked and hang himself in an oak tree. Well, mostly. He still heard the voices in his mind, whispering tempting words behind an obsidian wall. They will come back, eventually.

“Merlin. Merlin focus,” ordered Arthur. “Good. Breathe in, breathe out … I know you’re scared. Listen to me. I won’t kill you. I’m hurt. I’m furious even. You lied to me … you kept secrets from me.”

“I’m sorry, I did not…”

“I know. You had to. Merlin I…” Arthur inhaled, unsure. If someone had told him this day would come, he’d laughed at the man face. “I guess I need to thank you … for what you did. You protected me, us, Camelot. You got hurt and never asked for recognition. Instead, I acted like a…”

“A prat?” Merlin joked.

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

An angel pass, two, three and an entire van. Arthur knew he just shocked his servant. He never thanked him or anyone outside his knights before. Could one go into shock after such a change in their lives? After all, as a prince, people mostly kissed the floor he walked on and are grateful for his existence. Not the other way … oh … right … his head may pass the doors if he continues. His thought came to a halt when he heard Merlin’s soft voice, while their friends snore loudly around the camp.

“I’m dead. I’m sure of it now…” chuckled the younger man, raising a hand to brush over Arthur’s warm skin. If he hides it well, the once and future king felt a shiver ran down his spine. When he spoke, his voice sounds tight and uncertain. “Why would you? Tell me, Merlin.” The warlock still gently caressed his skin and they both blushed, even if no one noticed.

“Arthur never thanked anyone. Not even in my wild dreams. Ergo, I’m dead and I’m thankful…” under his fingers, Uther’s son froze. What for? “Arthur?”

“Don’t say those words. I’m your king and I ban you from dying. You’re not allowed to leave me. Not ever.”

“You can’t, I died already. I wouldn’t do that if I were still alive…” Merlin mumbled, sitting awkwardly. His hand still stroking his prince cheek. Their eyes met and suddenly, the world around them felt silent. Event the knights stopped their snores. King and vagabonds stared at each other’s for an eternity or mere seconds. Merlin’s inner voice tried to stop him, yelling something about him still alive or whatever … but he did not listen. He knew better. Arthur had to kill him, with the ban of magic still standing. He may regret it later, the morning after … but for now, the warlock stopped fighting his inner demons. He leaned toward his prince, the one who was still holding him against a strong body and their lips met for the first time. A warm feeling grew in them both. Arthur was stunned but deeper the kiss. He had desired that man for a long time now. Not since day one, no. They hated each other’s when they met; the feeling turned into something else. Respect. Love. Care. He wanted Merlin to feel it all and when wet tears fell over Merlin’s cheeks, the prince pulled back and gently chase them his thumbs.

“I need to show you something, Merlin,” Arthur whispered, not letting go of the sorcerer as he gently slapped the back of his head.

“Ouch! It hurts!” protested Merlin, his eyes widening when he realised when he just said … and did. Did he just … had he … no he … oh. Arthur followed his train of thoughts all along and snorted when Merlin yelped, mortified. Trembling fingers before his lips, Merlin shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t … it’s the spell, I guess… I…” Arthur stopped the rambling, forcing his friend to meet his eyes again.

“Don’t apologise. I’m glad you did it … even if you thought this world was an illusion. And I don’t want a world without you. Not now. Not ever. Understood?” with only silence for an answer, the prince continued: “I like you the way you are. Magic or not. Clumsy or not. Brave or coward. It doesn’t matter, OK? By the end of the day, you’re still the same old Merlin. Now that I know the truth, I can help you protect your secret, especially from my father.”

“You… You accept my magic?” Merlin asked, still confused at the mere prospect of being free of any secrets.

“Lancelot talked me out my prejudices.” Arthur admitted. Remembering Lancelot words about how magic was not different from any weapons. Just like a person can either help or kill someone with a sword, the same thing works for magic’s users and as a king, his duty was to bring equal justice in the kingdom. Murder with weapons or magics were both leading to a death sentence. The others shall live free of fear. “Now I see clearly and I promise you this: once I am king, I’ll lift the ban of magic.”

[matrixaffiliate]

Quarry

Final Chapter! FFN and AO3

This is the end, my friends... I can't believe this is finished. I wouldn't have guessed this story would total 88K words in my wildest dreams. Nor did I dream that it would create the little following that it did. For all of you who have followed this from start to finish, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you! For all of you who read this now that it's finished posting, thank you! I hope that you've fallen in love with these four as much as I have. :) Until the next story friends. - Matrixaffiliate

Epilogue - Chapter 85

Harry:

Crown Prince Harry looked over at Neville and held back his groan at the smirk his best friend wore. He still didn't understand what had had happened to get the Longbottoms to move to Godric's Hollow from Ottery and swear loyalty to his dad and be given places on the Privy Council, but Harry had grown up with Neville as though he was his twin. It made sense that Neville would be his companion at arms when he was traveling.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Neville smirked as they looked around at the rooms they'd been put up in by King Arthur.

"Easy for you to say," Harry shot back. "You were able to just fall in love with Hannah and now your parents are arranging everything."

"Yes, but your parents' marriage was arranged and that worked out well for them. They still make members of the Court sick with how they dote on each other, and they're going on twenty years of marriage."

Harry shook his head. His parents had asked him to just come down here and see. Apparently, Arthur had been pestering his dad for the last six or so years to arrange a marriage between Harry and his only daughter. James had finally agreed to send Harry down for a total visit. His mum seemed to think it was a grand idea. She kept going on and on about how cute the princess had been when she was small. And ask this would be fine, except that King Arthur had completely misunderstood the purpose of Harry's visit. He kept introducing him as Crown Prince Harry of Godric's Hollow, betrothed to Princess Ginevra.

"How about we go for a walk." Harry tried to shake the aggravation from his head. "I'm not due to be anywhere until dinner."

"Whatever is going to help ease your mind about meeting your fiancé," Neville shrugged with a laugh and tossed Harry his sword.

Harry belted it to his waist and holstered his wand. He walked out of the room and ignored the way Neville whistled happily as Harry took random turns here and there as they wandered the castle. He'd only been to Ottery's capital once before when he was five or six. He didn't remember what had made it so he and his sister had been brought along. Harry now wished that he could have been brought here a few more times. Maybe then he would have actually met Princess Ginevra before her dad had started calling him her fiancé.

One of his turns led them out to the training grounds and Harry caught sight of what looked like flames dancing. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a woman, her long fiery red hair braided down her back spun behind her as she worked through her exercises. His feet moved of their own accord, and before he knew it, he was standing ten feet from her, watching captivated as she moved.

"Do you often stand and stare at women?" The fiery woman stopped and pinned him with her gaze.

Harry blinked, "Sorry, just, er, you, er, I was impressed, with your, er, your technique."

She smirked, "Impressed enough to spar?"

Harry felt a grin break across his face. He'd been training with Uncle Sirius and Aunt Marlene since he was eleven.

"Definitely."

Harry pulled his dress shirt over his head and handed it to Neville. He grinned at how it took the woman a moment to drag her eyes back up to his.

"I have something I'm supposed to do later this evening, and I need that shirt to be in good shape for it."

She rolled her eyes, "Sure, you do. Have your friend hold your sword and wand as well."

Harry nodded and Neville took the last two things. "Be careful, your parents will kill me if we bring you home broken and bloodied."

The woman laughed, "I won't hurt him too much, at least not his face."

Harry grinned but he felt his cheeks grow hot. He liked this woman; he liked her a lot.

"The first to knock the other off their feet then?" He tried to bring up his voice back to its normal level.

"Yes, and no magic," She smirked at him and then began to circle him.

Harry focused on remembering everything that Sirius and Marlene had taught him as he circled. It turned out that sparing with Marlene was the best thing he could have done to prepare for this woman. She was small, not quite as small as Aunt Marlene, but her height forced her to spar in a similar fashion as Marlene, and Harry was familiar with how she fought.

And by the looks of it, he was the first person she'd encountered who had a grip on what she was doing.

"I think you may be cheating," She panted after he blocked her most recent strike and kept her from knocking his feet out from under him.

"How in Merlin's name could I be cheating?" Harry laughed. "I've never seen you until today."

She blocked his strike and then spun around but he blocked her strike. "I don't know but you're the first person I've fought who hasn't been on their back within five strikes."

"Shame that is," Harry moved them to position himself so that he could try the only move that could knock Aunt Marlene over, and one that Uncle Sirius swore him to secrecy on, along with a promise to never use it with Aunt Marlene.

"You didn't introduce yourself; you know." She followed him directly to where he needed her to be.

Harry nodded, "How rude of me." Then he lunged forward, and to his great satisfaction, it worked! The beautiful woman landed flat on her back, her hand still gripping his wrist where she'd tried to throw him over her with his own momentum.

"My name is Harry," He gripped her wrist back and pulled her to his feet. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Ginny," She looked at him with wide eyes. "And who taught you that?"

Harry shook his head, "The person who taught me has sworn me to secrecy. I'm not allowed to ever divulge their name."

"Pitty, I'd like to send them a letter of admiration." Ginny let go of his wrist and Harry felt a bit put out as the contact between them ended.

"I could deliver a letter to them." Harry shoved his hand in his hair.

"Nah," Ginny shrugged, "But, I was planning on leaving and exploring the world for the next twenty or so years, care to join me?"

Harry felt his whole body cry out as he shook his head no. "Believe me, Ginny, under different circumstances I'd probably follow you to the ends of the earth after a match like this, but I can't. I'm Prince Harry of Godric's Hollow. I'm actually here on business from my father, and then I'll be back home."

Ginny's eyes went wide. "You're Prince Harry?!"

Harry inclined his head, "The very same."

Ginny looked like he'd knocked the ground out from under her again.

"Harry," Neville called out. "We should get going, Arthur is going to want us in our seats before the rest of his court comes in."

"Right," Harry called back and then turned to Ginny. "Thank you, know that in another life, I wouldn't have thought twice about following you around the world." He took her hand and kissed it as he bowed slightly and walked away.

He didn't dare look back as they walked back to the rooms that Arthur had given him for his stay here. He was pretty sure he'd be too tempted to go back and tell Ginny he could probably spare a few months away from the kingdom, as long as no one knew he'd left Ottery...

"This is why you have the better lot," Harry shook his head after toweling off the dust from his torso. "You and Hannah got to have a moment like I just had with Ginny, and you got to do something about it. Ginny asked me to run away with her, and I had to turn her down because I'm tied to the Crown."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but who knows, maybe Princess Ginevra will be special too. You'll never know until you meet her." Neville handed him his shirt.

Harry tried to swallow his bitterness and believe that Neville could be right. His mum thought his dad would be a toe rag and it turned out that she actually really loved his dad. Maybe Harry would get lucky too.

They sat down at the table in the seats that they'd been assigned and Harry waited for Ottery's Royal Family to join them before the rest of their court would be admitted.

He looked up when the door opened and saw King Arthur and Queen Molly enter first, then Crown Prince William and his wife Princess Fleur. But Harry's heart stopped when behind the Crown Prince was Ginny, but not like he'd seen her earlier in the day, no, now she would put the greatest marble sculptures to shame.

She came and sat next to him and Harry barely registered the way Neville tried to hide his laughter behind his hand.

"I thought that if you couldn't join me in traveling the world then maybe I could see what Godric's Hollow was like instead." She smiled brightly at him.

"Brilliant," Harry stared at her and thought that maybe he'd dismissed his mum's reassurance that he would absolutely love Princess Ginevra a bit too quickly.

[fuwafuwamedb]

Raised By A Fou Pt 6 (Hakuno, Guinevere, Arthur, Merlin)

Previous Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

_____

“Y-You want me to marry your husband-“

“Yes.” Guinevere smiled, kissing her hands. “Come with me, my dear queen.”

No, she wasn’t going to-

Something was wrong.

She wasn’t sure what was going on, but the ability to really speak was gone a moment before she found the woman dragging her towards the stairs nearby. She waved behind them, shutting everyone including Fou out of the space before she pushed her upwards.

They made it to her room before Hakuno found herself able to have free reign again.

“I can’t marry him!”

Guinevere laughed a little, walking passed her and opening one of the armoires nearby. Her hands pulled out several dresses, looking through them carefully.

“Miss Guinevere! I came to get a signature from the king to keep the Tower of Avalon! I’m not here to get married!”

“Hmm?”

She looked over at her.

“You were in Avalon?”

“Yes, I was.” Hakuno sighed in relief. At last, someone was really listening to her. “I found my way there when I was young and stayed there with Fou, that little white beast that was with me. It wans’t until Merlin came that we found out that the tower belongs to him and that we’d burned the title to the place.”

“I see.”

Understanding at last. “I know that it seems a little odd, but I really am here just to get the king’s signature and go home.”

“Is that so?”

The woman looked at her a moment, hesitating.

“Hakuno?”

“Yes, Guinevere?”

The woman looked over at her, holding one of the dresses in hand carefully. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Drink?”

The woman turned, smiling. “Of course. You know, living in the Tower of Avalon, I’m sure you’ve probably never drank anything before. Let me go get something to drink. I’m sure I can find something that will sooth your ruffled feathers, so to speak.”

“Then we can get the king?”

“Oh, we’ll go straight to him.”

Hakuno nodded, settling onto the bench nearby.

The woman hurried out, leaving her to look around the stone surroundings.

The stone walls may have made the space a bit dark and dreary, but that was made up by the paintings and tapestries. The wood furniture and the crackling fires really helped as well. Instead of being depressing, the inside of the castle actually felt a lot like that of the Tower of Avalon.

Hakuno found herself waiting quite a few minutes.

It was strange, all things considered.

She was tempted to leave the room to go look for her, but…

This was a large place. If she got lost, she could end up running into a great deal of trouble, especially since she looked like the queen herself.

“I’m back!”

Guinevere held up a crystal decanter. “I brought something straight from the finest and quietest corner of the castle!”

“Ah, that was sweet of you.”

The woman opened the container, holding it out.

“Shouldn’t I use a glass?”

“People drink it like this, actually.”

Really?

Hakuno stared at the decanter, frowning a little. She wasn’t sure that was true, but…

Fou had raised her. Being raised by a beast left a bit to be desired in terms of worldly knowledge. She wasn’t sure that she could really argue against the woman’s words.

Plus, Guinevere was trying to help her get that signature now.

“To the king,” she cheered, accepting the drink and finding herself all but guzzling it down. The sweet flavor hit her senses, luring her to drink more than she had planned. She smiled at the taste, handing the decanter back and nodding.

So that was why people drank.

The feeling of warmth was in her chest a little.

“Hakuno?”

Hakuno looked up at the woman.

“How are you feeling?”

“Feeling?” She smiled. “There’s a warm feeling in my chest.”

“Good. I’m glad.” The woman sat down next to her and leaned in close. “So… since you feel really good, why don’t you tell me about the king? You know, technically, I haven’t married him yet. We’re just engaged.”

“I-is that okay?”

Guinevere smile seemed to have a knowing edge to it. “I don’t mind. If you tell me about your thoughts on the king, I’ll tell you about the knight that’s stolen my heart.”

[elysiumwaits]

Hey! For the 100 ways to say I love you prompts, I’d love to see what you’d do with no. 89 - “I noticed.” For Sterek, Stucky or Merthur, whichever speaks to you. Thank you!😊

I went with Merthur. I shot for 500 words and ended up with 1200 instead, which is pretty par for the course for me. Also, I don’t know anything about marriage or relationship customs in Camelot so I made it all up. 

In which it suddenly occurs to Arthur that, in this day and age, he is allowed to love Merlin the way he wants to.

Your Warming Smile on AO3

Rated G, no real warnings apply, but tags are: Arthur Comes Back, Love Confessions, Marriage Proposals, Fluff, Light Angst, Discussions of Past Relationships, Past Gwen/Arthur

Arthur adjusts to modern life with all the grace of a toddler learning how to use a spoon. That is to say, it’s a necessary thing, but it’s painful for everyone involved thanks to the mess and general frustration. It helps that he’s actually a remarkably smart and competent person, despite all that Merlin’s ever said otherwise, so he adapts to the new structures of society very quickly, even if it takes a little longer to get him to understand things like electricity or the merits of cars over horses. 

He likes the iPhone Merlin gets him, especially after Merlin puts all of the Angry Birds games on it. Once Merlin teaches him how to use Wikipedia and YouTube, Merlin’s job of explaining how things work is pretty well done. Arthur will still ask him to explain certain things, but for the most part, they both figure out rather quickly that the Internet has far more patience for explanation than Merlin does. 

It’s after Merlin’s gotten home from the shops, bags in hand, when Arthur follows him into the kitchen, phone in hand. Merlin’s not bothered - sometimes Arthur watches something and needs some context, or finds a gaming channel and mistakes it for actual events (honestly, it was a little heartbreaking telling Arthur that Skyrim was not a real place). Besides, after centuries being alone, Merlin is finding it hard to balance time-with-Arthur and time-without-Arthur because, if given the choice, he’d never have any time-without-Arthur at all. 

“Men can marry each other?” is what Arthur says, though, instead of any of the questions Merlin was expecting. 

Merlin very carefully doesn’t drop the milk. They’ve talked about it in passing, and Arthur’s never been a bigot, even back in Camelot when it wasn’t something that was necessarily talked about openly. People were gay, of course, people have always been gay, but it was never mentioned, just… accepted. Arthur had mentioned a couple of nobles who had married, produced a single heir, and then spent the rest of their natural lives enjoying time with their ‘best friends’ instead. 

In this day and age, Merlin had simply told Arthur it was more openly accepted now, that couples like that were at least not illegal anymore, even if they did face such things as violence and bigotry. All Arthur had said was that ‘no one should be hunted for loving someone, that’s absurd,’ with a strange look on his face. Merlin had quickly changed the subject, after that, not wanting to remind Arthur of Guinivere or anyone else they’d lost.

All this to say that Merlin really has no idea where the intensity in Arthur’s expression is coming from. 

“Yes?” Merlin says as he puts the milk in the fridge. “And women can marry women? It’s a fairly recent development, actually, I think.” He screws up his nose and tries to think - time is strange for an immortal sorcerer after all. He doesn’t think getting into the spectrums of gender and sexuality will do any good here either, so he’ll probably leave that for another day. “Let’s see, homosexuality was decriminalized here in the late 1960s, and then marriage was made legal, what, five years ago? I told you it wasn’t illegal anymore, Arthur.”

“It wasn’t illegal in Camelot.” Arthur waves the phone, and just generally looks bewilderingly upset. “Magic was! Divorce was… not illegal, but hard. Adultery was illegal.”

Merlin puts the rest of the bags on the counter - there’s nothing cold in them, they’ll keep - and turns to give Arthur a confused look. “I really don’t know where you’re going with this. Marriage laws haven’t really applied to me, so I haven’t paid much attention.”

“I was already married by the time I figured it out!” 

“Figured what out?” 

Arthur takes a deep breath and shoves the phone in his pocket. “I noticed, Merlin.”

“You’re not making any sense.” Merlin shakes his head a little, goes to head past Arthur and back into the living room to take off his jacket. 

As he passes, though, Arthur grabs him by the arm and drags him back those few steps, until Merlin is once again against the counter. This time, though, Arthur’s got him trapped by bracing his hands on the countertop on either side of Merlin. He could shove Arthur out of the way easily enough, of course, they’re both long-past thinking Merlin is harmless or weak. 

“I noticed,” Arthur says, quiet and intense. “But I was married, and I loved her, too. Not… not the way she loved Lancelot, or the way that I felt about… but I still made vows.”

Merlin swallows as he realizes all at once what Arthur is talking about. “I never…” he trails off, looks everywhere but Arthur’s face. “I never expected anything from you, I never would have wanted you to be unfaithful. I wouldn’t have asked that of you. I wouldn’t have done that to Gwen.”

“Did you know, though? Did I ever…” Arthur places his fingers on Merlin’s chin, tilts Merlin’s face back so that he’s looking at Arthur once more. “Merlin, tell me you haven’t gone all this time thinking that I didn’t… that your feelings were unrequited.”

Merlin did enough lying back in Camelot, he says, and so he won’t lie to Arthur now. It’s damn tempting, though. “I didn’t let myself think about it for a long time, certainly not while you were alive. It didn’t seem fair to either of us to dwell on it. Your friendship was enough for me.”

“You’re a better man than I ever was or will ever be.” Arthur still sounds distressed, but his hand is still on Merlin’s jaw. “What about now, Merlin? Have all the years… changed anything?”

Merlin is struck dumb for a moment. Arthur looks like Merlin’s never seen him, an almost desperate longing in his eyes, and Merlin wonders about Arthur noticing all those centuries ago. What had he seen? Every little act of love Merlin had done? A light in Merlin’s eye? Every single moment that Merlin had forced himself not to read too much into?

“No,” he finally manages to choke out. “No, you idiot, of course nothing’s changed. I still love you, I always will.” 

Arthur nods, slowly at first like he’s thinking, and then once more, decisively. Merlin’s still not sure how they got here from whatever article or video Arthur had stumbled onto, but he finds he doesn’t much care when Arthur suddenly surges forward and kisses him, like he’s been waiting to do it forever, like he’s never wanted anything more. 

“You’ll marry me, right?” Arthur asks once he’s kissed Merlin within an inch of his life, until Merlin was practically begging for oxygen or mercy or for Arthur to never stop. 

“I’m not sure either of us technically exist in the legal system here,” Merlin says, breathless. “And it’s awfully rude of you to propose without a ring.”

“We’ll do one of those Druid weddings.” It sounds like a promise when Arthur says it. “You’re a Druid, right? I’ll get a ring.”

“I don’t know if I can officiate my own wedding!” Merlin laughs, head spinning. “What are you talking about? We’re living the rest of our immortal lives together, I don’t think an official marriage is going to do much to change that.”

Arthur snorts, but there’s an insufferably pleased twinkle in his eye. “Well, excuse me, I’ll try to reign in my feelings of devotion,” he says, and presses another quick kiss to Merlin’s lips. He pulls away again, and adds, seriously, “I love you.”

“I noticed,” Merlin says with a cheeky grin, and Arthur rolls his eyes before leaning in to kiss him again.

[cupcakezys]

Rest.

First. Previous.

Read on AO3.

Pairing: Merlin/Arthur

Summary: Arthur was exhausted. That wasn’t unusual, not on the day after a full moon. Arthur often found himself dragging his feet the entire day, his duties nothing more than obstacles to his bed. Merlin was no better. Arthur felt guilty, as he always did the day after a full moon, whenever he saw the shadows under Merlin’s eyes. It was when his servant stumbled and almost impaled himself on Arthur’s sword while going to clean it that he decided he had to do something.

He steadied Merlin, gingerly taking the dirty sword and putting it down on the table. “Really Merlin? How can someone with so much magic be this clumsy.”

Merlin pouted, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Arthur thought it was adorable.

“Prat.” He mumbled. “Gaius woke me up early. Had some potions he urgently needed delivered. I feel like I barely got any sleep.” He shot a smirk at Arthur as he sank down into a chair by Arthur’s empty fireplace. “Besides, you’re no better. I saw you trip in that mud puddle during training.”

Arthur flushed. “I didn’t trip! It was a tactical fall, one that saved me being sliced in half by that ridiculous excuse of a knight.”

Merlin snorted, lit the fire with a wave of his hand, and slumped over the table until he could rest his head on his arms. “Kay isn’t that bad.”

“He sent Bedivere hobbling to Gaius, in need of stitches and a week’s rest three days ago.” Arthur deadpanned.

Merlin tilted his head to look at him. “He’s new.”

Arthur shook his head and started stripping himself of his armour. Merlin stayed where he was, watching through eyes only half open. Arthur struggled with his chainmail for a second, wondering at how on earth anyone ever got out of these things on their own, and then the golden warmth of magic washed over him and his chainmail was flying free of his body to rest next to his sword.

He turned to Merlin, a thank you on his lips, and was greeted with closed eyes and quiet breathing. He smiled even as he shook his head. A glance at his bed and he had already made his decision. He walked over to where Merlin was just barely awake and gently brushed the hair from his face. Merlin leaned into the touch.

“Merlin.” Arthur mumbled and tugged gently on his ear. “Come on, sit up for a second.”

Merlin mumbled and groaned, protesting as Arthur pulled him upright. He sent a pout Arthur’s way, which shouldn’t have worked at all considering Merlin’s eyes were still shut and as such he ended up pouting at the wall. Still, it made Arthur chuckle lightly and grant him some mercy.

“Alright, good enough.” He managed to get one hand behind Merlin’s back and – after some more grumbling – the other under his knees, and lifted.

Merlin squawked and wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck tightly. “What are you doing!”

Arthur laughed and stumbled over to his bed. Merlin, he found, was heavier than he looked. It probably didn’t help that Arthur was also exhausted.

“Carrying you, obviously.” He arched an eyebrow, trying to be as condescending as he could.

Merlin pinched the back of his neck in mock anger, but the effect was ruined because he placed a messy kiss on Arthur’s jaw a second later in apology. “I’m not a girl. You don’t need to carry me.”

“Says the one that was about to pass out on my table.”

Merlin huffed, but said no more, and he hadn’t actually made any attempt to leave Arthur’s hold. Arthur rather suspected he was enjoying himself. He made a note to pick him up like this more often.

“Where are you taking me?” Merlin asked, eyes shut again.

Arthur rolled his eyes and dumped him on the middle of his bed.

Merlin yelled and his eyes flashed golden. Arthur watched as he seemed to float in midair for a moment before he took in his surroundings and realized where he was. He dropped instantly.

He bounced a little, then glared up at Arthur, who was doing nothing to hide his laughter. “I hate you and you’re the worst.”

Arthur laughed harder, then managed to pull himself together enough to pull a semi-serious expression on his face. “And here I was, going to let you laze away in my bed for the rest of the afternoon.” He crawled onto the bed and towards Merlin, who was very suddenly trying to bury himself in pillows and blankets. “But, alas, I am the worst, so I could never do something so unbelievably kind and considerate-“

Merlin giggled and tried to tug the blanket out of Arthur’s hands. “No! I’m sorry! You’re the best, the most wonderful prince in all the kingdoms, please let me nap in your stupidly comfortable bed.”

Arthur pretended to think about it for a moment, while Merlin gazed up at him hopefully, clutching the blanket to his chest. “Very well. But I require payment.”

“Payment?” Merlin relaxed, buried himself deeper into the pillows. “What kind of payment could I possibly give to a prince?”

Arthur hummed. “A kiss should suffice, I think.”

Merlin grinned. “I think that’s fair.”

They stayed where they were for a second longer, then Merlin surged up and placed a quick peck to his cheek. Arthur blinked, and then Merlin was shoving at his chest.

“Alright, there’s your payment, your highness, time to leave your poor, overworked servant to the sleep he rightfully deserves.”

Arthur, for his part, refused to move and growled deep in his throat. “What kind of a kiss was that?”

“What?” Merlin raised an eyebrow, smiling. “It was a kiss. As requested.”

“That.” Arthur whispered, leaning down close to Merlin’s ear. “Was not what I meant.”

Merlin shivered under him, a full-body shake that Arthur felt all the way down to his toes. “O-oh? Then what did you mean?”

Arthur pulled back and locked eyes with his lover. “Allow me to show you.”

He leaned down a little more, eyes on Merlin’s lips and body balanced entirely on his elbows. Merlin sighed the instant their lips touched, and positively melted underneath him. Arthur hummed. He kept the kiss light, and pulled back a few seconds later, breath catching at the sight Merlin made beneath him, all wide eyed and red lipped.

He sighed and kissed him again, just a quick press of lips this time. “Get some sleep.”

He went to pull away, only to be stopped by a hand grabbing at his shirt. “You should too.”

Arthur sighed and shook his head. “I can’t. There’s a council meeting in half an hour Father has insisted I listen in on. I can’t miss it.”

Merlin sighed and reluctantly let go. “After?”

Arthur slipped from the bed. “I’ll be all yours.”

Merlin seemed to like that idea, if the grin on his face said anything, and Arthur watched as a yawn was pulled from him. “Try not to fall asleep in the meeting.”

Arthur went to a nearby bowl full of water and grabbed a cloth. A bath would be nice, but he could live without it. He cleaned himself of mud and sweat, and then slipped out of his clothes, grabbing at the clean ones Merlin had lain out for him earlier. Merlin, meanwhile, made himself comfortable. There was the sound of wiggling, and a muttered curse from under the blanket, and then a tunic and pair of boots were dropped to the floor, quickly followed by Merlin’s breeches.

“Sometimes I wonder if my father has figured out a way to sleep with his eyes open.” Arthur mused as he pulled on one of his better pair of trousers. “There’s no way someone could listen to Geoffrey drone on for so long every day and not fall asleep.”

There was a sleepy snort from his pillows. “Or Leon talk about grain.”

Arthur groaned. Leon was a great knight and friend, but there were times when Arthur had been sorely tempted to run him through for going on for so long during council meetings. Merlin laughed.

“I think there’s something wrong with him.” Arthur said as he pulled his tunic on. “The amount of detail he has about grain can’t be healthy.”

He walked back to Merlin’s side and sat down. Merlin had curled up around Arthur’s largest pillow, eyes closed and a sleepy smile on his face. He looked beautiful. Arthur quickly finished tying up his shoes and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I’ll be back soon.” He whispered.

He stood and turned to go, only for Merlin’s hand to snake out and stop him. It squeezed him slightly.

“Don’t take too long.” Merlin breathed, more into his pillow than anything.

Arthur smiled and tucked Merlin’s hand back under the blanket. “I won’t.”

He quietly slipped from the room.

The council meeting was, as predicted, mind-numbingly boring. Arthur struggled to stay awake, and he heard nothing of what the councilmen were saying. Still, he managed to stay awake, even if he dozed lightly here and there. It only really got bad when he was called upon to answer an enquire, and he had to scramble to figure out an answer to a question he hadn’t even heard.

Lord Velmir didn’t seem to mind repeating himself, but Arthur caught the look his father sent him and fought not to sink down in his chair. At least his answer seemed to please everyone present.

It was another hour before council was dismissed, and Arthur all but bolted from the room. He wasn’t going to wait around for his father to scold him for nodding off during the meeting. Hopefully by tomorrow he would have forgotten all about it.

It was a small hope, but Arthur held onto it all the same.

He dodged servants and nobles alike as he made his way back to his chambers. Most people got out of his way, but with the preparations for the feast in a few nights underway, it was difficult to navigate the halls. Still, before long he was standing in front of his door, huffing a bit from the exertion.

Arthur slowly pushed the door to his chambers open. The fire was still burning, warming the room nicely. Arthur smiled and relaxed, pushing the door shut behind him as he moved from the door. He hummed to himself, loosening the strings on his tunic a little as he walked to his bed.

Merlin was still asleep. He smiled as he watched him, just for a moment, indulging himself. It wasn’t often that he got to see Merlin sleeping. He looked younger, and smaller, curled up on Arthur’s huge bed. There was nothing of the powerful warlock in that moment, but then, Arthur doubted he looked like a noble prince while asleep and, as Merlin liked to put it, snoring loud enough to wake the lower town.

Arthur snorted. Preposterous. He didn’t snore – Morgana surely would have teased him about it by now if he did.

He moved near silently to the bedside. He hesitated to sit down, but Merlin was usually a heavy sleeper. He shouldn’t wake. Sure enough, he only huffed slightly in his sleep and turned, so that he was facing Arthur. He smiled and brought a hand down to brush a bit of hair out of his eyes, maybe wake him with a tender kiss to the forehead. It was romantic, according to the many woman he had heard chatting in the halls. He leaned down, hand hovering over Merlin’s face.

Then he heard his door open.

He stood from the bed and spun around, his heart beating far too fast. His father stood in the doorway. He gulped and absolutely refused to glance down at Merlin.

“Father.” He said and stepped around the bed so he could face him directly.

The king was staring at his bed, and the worst part was, he didn’t even look surprised, just mildly uncomfortable. Arthur gulped. Had they been so indiscreet? Who else knew? Did they know of Merlin’s importance, or just think him a convenient body for the prince to use?

“Arthur. I wanted to discuss your behaviour in council today.” His father said, his eyes glancing at Arthur’s bed and the lump that was very clearly Merlin. “It was unacceptable. As a king you must pay attention to your lords, no matter how… tedious it may be.” His eyes glanced at Merlin again. “Or how drained you are.”

Arthur flushed. “Of course Father. I understand. It won’t happen again.”

His father merely nodded. “See that it doesn’t.”

Arthur thought that was it. He thought his father would leave, wouldn’t comment past what he had already. He should have known better. They’d been too lucky lately.

“And Arthur.” Arthur stiffened as his father stopped just in front of the door. “I expect this-“ he looked meaningfully at the bed. “-not to further interfere with your duties. Such... activities should be kept for after nightfall.”

“Yes Father.” Arthur wasn’t sure if it was possible to be more embarrassed than he was in that moment.

“And make sure your… explorations do not extend to any of the other servants. I will not risk having any rumours running around, or any bastards.”

Arthur groaned internally. “Yes Father.”

“Good.” His father nodded and left.

Arthur finally let lose his groan and buried his head in his hands.

“Did he just approve of me?”

Arthur snorted and turned his head to Merlin. “More like he approved of you not being able to get pregnant.” He sank down onto the end of the bed. “Was that really all you got out of that?”

Merlin shifted and sat up, the blanket pooling around his hips. “Did you fall asleep during the council meeting?”

Arthur flushed again. “No!” Merlin raised an eyebrow at him. Arthur resisted for all of five seconds before he caved. “I was dozing, not sleeping.”

Merlin laughed. “You fell asleep!”

“So did you!” He protested.

“Yes, but I’m not the Crown Prince.” If he was more awake, Merlin would probably be vibrating with glee. “Who was serving you? I have to know exactly what happened.”

“Merlin!” Arthur shook his head. “I’m not telling you, you gossip!”

“I’ll just ask the other servants. Cook might tell me. I haven’t snatched anything from the kitchens lately.”

Arthur toed off his shoes and crawled up the bed until he was right in front of Merlin’s face. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Oh, am I?” Merlin raised an eyebrow and leaned back.

They stared at each other for a moment before they both fell into giggles. Arthur collapsed into Merlin’s lap and wrapped his arms around his hips. Merlin’s hand found its way into his hair and he relaxed into the touch. Merlin hummed and started messing with his hair. Arthur suspected he was braiding it.

He didn’t move.

“He thinks you’re just a bedwarmer.” Arthur said.

The humming stopped. “I think that might be for the best.”

Arthur hugged him tighter, pressed a kiss to his hip. “You’re not just a bedwarmer.”

“I know.” He could hear the smile in Merlin’s voice. “I love you too.”

Arthur hummed happily in response, content.

-

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Here's the next one!

[alisonwritesimagines]

Speak Now ~Arthur Pendragon Imagine~

Requested by anonymous:

Summary: When Morgana introduces a man to you, he wants you to be his bride. However, Arthur has secret feelings for you and can’t stand to let you marry someone who wouldn’t treat you right. 

Author’s Note: I miss Merlin. A lot. Please come back to me. Also this imagine is hella long. 

Being Arthur Pendragon’s other ward for a few years wasn’t so bad. Not once has he ever made a rude remark to you. Not once did he ever make you do something you couldn’t do or didn’t want to.

“Y/N, there you are,” Morgana said as she turned around the corner. 

“M’lady,” You curtsied.

"Did you hear the news?” Morgana asked you. 

“What is it?” You asked her.

“We are having a Lord joining us for the feast tonight. I do want you to be by my side however instead of Arthur’s,” Morgana said. 

“I should tell Arthur that I will not be by his side then,” You tell her.

“Oh yes. Tell him to talk to me if there are any problems,” Morgana tells you.

“Yes m’lady,” You nodded.

You walked over to Arthur’s room to see him and Merlin talking. You smiled over at the two boys in front of you.

“Hello, Arthur. Hello, Merlin,” You say.

“Hello, Y/N,” Arthur smiled at you.

“Hi, Y/N,” Merlin smiled as well. 

“Oh Arthur. Morgana asked me to be by her side tonight for the feast. If it’s alright with you,” You tell him.

“Of course,” Arthur said. You smiled at him before collecting some things to be cleaned.

“I’ll have these back before nightfall,” You tell him before walking out. 

“I’m surprised you’re letting her be in Morgana’s side,” Merlin tells Arthur as soon as you were gone.

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked.

“We’re having a few guests over for the feast tonight and I heard some of them are suitors,” Merlin said.

It was no surprised that every man who’ve met you has had a crush on you at one point. However, Arthur’s feelings never went away. He had been in love with you for quite sometime and everyone saw the prince’s feelings for you. 

“Well it’s not like they’re going to marry her right away,” Arthur said. 

“I’m just saying,” Merlin said as he backed away a little.

The night of the feast, you wore your best outfit. You stood near by Morgana as she talked to the men around her. You noticed a Lord eyeing you once in a while which made you feel a little anxious. Being the center of attention was something you weren’t use to. 

At the end of the night, you were helping Morgana get ready for bed with Gwen.

“Y/N, Lord Edmund was interested in you,” Morgana smirked.

“I’m sorry?” You say in shock.

“He was wondering if you were available. He wanted to court you,” Morgana tells you.

“He does?” You asked. 

“Oh yes. You know, if you marry him, you could live wealthy,” Morgana pointed out. As tempting as it was for you, you knew in your heart that you couldn’t do it. All because you were in love with the Prince of Camelot. 

“Well I would have to think of that offer,” You tell her. 

You sat on the stairs, thinking about what Morgana said. Ever since you were left to fend for yourself, you’ve been struggling. Luckily, Gwen offered you to live with her which you were deeply grateful for. 

“You alright, Y/N?” You looked up to see Arthur walk over to you. 

“Your highness,” You said, standing up quickly. 

“Are you alright?” Arthur asked you.

“Yes. I was just about to go and finish the chores I was sent to do,” You tell him.

“Y/N, I know you. If something’s troubling you, you can tell me,” Arthur tells you.

“I don’t want to trouble you with my problems,” You say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Oh come on, Y/N. Please,” Arthur said. You looked up at him. Arthur hardly ever said please to anyone but you.

“Well Morgana is telling me that a Lord from last night has an interest in me and she suggested that I should court him so I could marry him and live a better life,” You tell him. 

“She said that?” Arthur asked disappointed.

“Yes. I should go off now. I’ll stop by to get your things for me to clean,” You tell him as you walked away. 

It’s been a couple days and you’ve decided to court with the man from the feast. He was nice and all to you but you didn’t feel the love you had felt when you were with Arthur. The past week, you’ve courted with the man while Arthur watched from afar. 

“It’s a shame you’re leaving tomorrow,” You tell Edmund. 

“Indeed. Unless, you come with me,” Edmund tells you.

“I’m sorry?” You asked in shock.

“I found you beautiful since I first laid eyes on you. I think that we will be a great couple. Y/N L/N, will you marry me?” Edmund asked before getting down on one knee and holding up a ring. 

“Really?” You asked him.

“Of course. We can have a small ceremony before I leave,” Edmund tells you. Thoughts about Arthur ran across your mind. You wanted to say no but you knew that Arthur didn’t see you as anything else but a friend. 

“Yes, Edmund. I will marry you,” You smile at him softly. 

“I’ll go and get everything ready!” Edmund said before giving you a kiss and rushing off. 

You ran over to Merlin first. You knocked on his door making him open it. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” Merlin asked you.

“I’m engaged,” You tell him. Merlin let you in so you both could talk privately. 

“What?” Merlin asked in shock. He knew that you liked Arthur and that Arthur liked you. 

“Edmund proposed to me and we’re leaving Camelot after we marry and-”

“Do you love him?” Merlin asked, stopping you. You turned to look at you. 

“Pardon?” 

“Do you love Edmund?” Merlin asked you.

“I think I do,” You tell him. 

“When are you to be wed?” Merlin asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” You explain to him.

The next day, you were in a simple white dress with a flower crown placed on the top of your head. 

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Morgana asked you.

“I think so,” You tell her as you force a small smile.

“You both make a good couple,” Morgana said before leaving. You looked back at the mirror before letting out a sigh. You knew this was wrong. You knew you didn’t love Edmund. 

You heard a knock on the door making you look over.

“Come in,” You say. You saw Arthur walk inside before closing the door behind him.

“Arthur?” You asked as you stood up. 

“Y/N, don’t marry him,” Arthur tells you. 

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“I know you don’t love him and we both know he’s not the right man for you,” Arthur tells you.

“What are you talking about Arthur?” You asked even more confused.

“Y/N, I am deeply in love with you. Merlin told me that you’ve been in love with me for a while as well,” Arthur tells you. You let out a small sigh. 

“So what? You’re a prince and I’m just a commoner. Your father would never approve of us,” You tell him.

“Y/N, when I am king, I swear to you that I will change the rules. We will be together. We just need to wait a little longer,” Arthur said. 

“I don’t know if I can wait that long, Arthur,” You tell him.

“Y/N, please. We both know you’re not going to be happy if you marry Edmund right now,” Arthur said. He was right. You knew it yourself but didn’t want to admit it. 

“What am I going to do then? Edmund’s waiting for me outside and I cannot leave him without an explanation,” You tell Arthur. 

“Tell him the truth. Just please don’t go. I can’t loose you, Y/N,” Arthur said. 

When you walked down the aisle, you weren’t walking slow like how normal brides would walk. You didn’t have your flowers in your hands as well. 

“You alright?” Edmund asked you.

“You’re a great man, Edmund. You truly are. But I cannot marry you today,” You tell him.

“Did I do something wrong?” Edmund asked you.

“No. It’s just that I haven’t been honest with you,” You tell him.

“What is it?” Edmund asked.

“The way you feel about me is not how I feel about you. I do like you but as a friend. My heart belongs to someone else and I cannot marry you and lie to you at the same time,” You tell him. Edmund nodded, understanding your words.

“I understand. I hope the man you truly love, loves you back and treats your right,” Edmund tells you.

“And I hope you find someone who loves you,” You tell him.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Edmund said. You smiled before giving him one kiss on the cheek. You walked away to see Arthur standing nearby. 

“You alright?” Arthur asked you. 

“Yeah. I couldn’t lie to him,” You explain.

“Come on,” Arthur said before you both walked away from the church. 

“I’m hoping that you’ll wait for me when I become king,” Arthur tells you. You looked back at him. 

“Arthur, I’ve waited for you for as long as I can remember. I just hope that you’ll wait as well,” You tell him.

“Of course. In the mean time, is it alright if we court together? Privately of course,” Arthur said. You smiled at him.

“I think that would be alright,” You smiled.

“Would it be alright if I give you one kiss?” Arthur asked you. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” You smile. Arthur smiled back at you before giving you a kiss. 

[hermioneshandbag]

Just Another Day, Part 2*

Sirius woke up to the morning light peeking in between the curtains in his bedroom on Grimmauld Place. It was Christmas, his third since he had escaped from Azkaban, and while it was sure to be more festive than the last two, what with Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys about, he was missing rather the most important part of himself.

He had basically forced you to go. You hadn’t wanted to, had fought him on the subject, said your place was at his side. You were to be married, you’d said. You belonged together. But he had told you it was for the best, that you couldn’t present your escaped prisoner fiance to the family and then say, ‘Pass the pudding!’

So there was no warm, sleeping woman in his bed, hand on his heart and legs tangled with his, on the verge of waking up and telling him you loved him. No darling, amazing woman to tempt him into lovemaking, possibly annoying Molly by forgetting the Silencing charm. No love of his life to make being back in this godforsaken hellhole remotely tolerable.

You had been gone less than a week and he was already a wreck, drinking too much and spending all his time attempting to forget how much he missed you.

He supposed his loneliness was his own fault, as were most of the worst things that had occurred in his life. Yet, as much as he missed you, he couldn’t help but feel that this one time, he got it right. It was what was best for you. His own pain mattered little next to that.

So Sirius crawled out of bed, had a shower, got dressed and put on his happy face. Harry and the others had enough tragedy with what had happened to Arthur, they didn’t need a mopey mongrel on their hands as well.

He helped Molly with Christmas luncheon as much as she would allow, he played host, he laughed at the twins’ jokes and pretended to be enjoying the holiday, but inside he was dying. Bloody hell, he missed you. Love was fucking fantastic when you were with him, but when you left and took his heart it was bleeding awful.

But Sirius went through the motions of holiday cheer for the benefit of his guests. He knew that they would all leave him alone soon enough when they went to visit Arthur, so he held it together for another hour or so.

But then he retreated to his bedroom and a bottle.

You should be here with him. The more he drank, the more he regretted sending you away. The more he regretted it, the more he drank. And so he decided he had better put you out of his mind and hunt down Kreacher.

He found the nasty little bugger in the attic, probably rolling in some cache of his family’s cast-offs as if they were the most valuable treasures. He set him to work cleaning up after luncheon and went back to his bedroom.

He heard a noise in the hallway and bellowed, “Kreacher, you’re meant to be in the kitchen!”

Footsteps stopped right outside his door and suddenly Sirius realized that it wasn’t Kreacher. It was far too soon for Harry to have returned, so who could it be? Sirius drew his wand and tiptoed over to the door and flung it open, ready for a fight.

You shrieked when Sirius had thrown open the door, wand in hand and ready to attack. Your hands had been full of bags and a couple boxes, a combination of excitement and laziness making you attempt to carry everything up the stairs to your room in one trip.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Sirius slurred.

“Hello to you, too, Sirius. You seem like you’re doing well without me.”

“I’ve been drinking,” he whispered confidentially.

“I figured that out on my own,” you whispered back, and then you dropped everything and threw yourself into his arms and kissed the breath out of him.

“You’re not supposed to be back until after the new year, what are you doing home?” Sirius asked you happily.

“I missed you, and I realized that I needed to be with you on Christmas. They’re my family, but you’re my life. I never want to be apart again, Sirius. Don’t you dare send me off to visit again until you can come with me,” you said sternly, then softened the words with another kiss.

Sirius picked you up and backed into the room, kicking the door shut. Your bags could wait til later, he needed to touch you now.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he groaned, laying you in the unmade bed and kissing you passionately as he lay beside you.

You ran your hand down his chest and over the bulge in his trousers. “I have a feeling I do, actually,” you said as you gently squeezed his hardening length.

Sirius groaned and kissed you, his tongue assaulting your mouth in his frenzy. You may have been gone for less than a week, but for Sirius, the center of his universe had gone from him. There had been no life, no joy – at times he felt there had been no air for him to breathe while you were gone. He needed to be one with you again to come back to life.

You frantically tore at each other’s clothes; at times literally when you heard the rending of fabric. “Need you, Sirius, missed you so much,” you moaned as his lips and hands roamed over your skin as if to assure himself you were really with him again.

You rolled him over and straddled him, not in the mood for his teasing, but maybe you could stand to do a little teasing of your own. “Are you sorry you sent me away, you naughty boy?” you crooned as you ran your fingernails down his chest lightly.

Sirius’ hips snapped up, desperate to be inside you. “So sorry, love. Never happen again,” he groaned, gripping your hips and attempting to guide you to ride him.

You resisted his efforts, saying, “Hmm, I think you need to show me how sorry you are.”

“Trying to, love,” he grumbled.

“I think you need to be punished,” you said, tapping your chin with one finger.

“I definitely have suffered enough, darling, I missed you so much,” he said, pulling your hips forward now. “But maybe I can make it up to you.”

As you slid nearer, he kissed your thighs, his scruffy beard scraping deliciously against that sensitive skin. He then proceeded to tease and twirl his tongue between your folds and across your clit until you came undone.

As you collapsed against him in ecstasy, Sirius rolled you over onto your back and crawled up to kiss you. “Am I forgiven?”

“I dunno, was that a punishment for you?” you asked.

“Merlin, no. That was a reward.”

“Hmmmm then I’m not sure… let’s see what you can do to make it up to me with this,” you said, reaching between your bodies to gently squeeze his dripping cock.

Sirius dropped his head onto your shoulder and groaned, trying to calm his body. When you did things like that he felt like an inexperienced boy, about to come before he was even inside you.

When he took a deep breath and regained control, he bit your neck in the spot that drove you crazy, marking you as his. “Mine,” he growled.

“As if I would ever let anyone else touch me,” you scoffed, then growled back, “and you better damn well not let anyone touch you, either.”

“The idea is repulsive, I assure you.”

You bit his earlobe and whispered, “Then fuck me, Sirius, now.”

He slid into you in one harsh thrust, both of you groaning at the tight heat. He was not entirely in control and knew he wasn’t going to last long. You felt too good and he had missed you too much, to the point he hadn’t even scratched his own itch, he had simply been too miserable.

“Merlin, I fucking missed you so much, Y/N, love you so much,” he practically shouted.

“Baby, yes, Sirius harder YES YES!” you screamed, completely enraptured with the feelings your joining created.

“Love, fuck, so close,” he said loudly, reaching between you to rub and pinch your clit, hips a blur as you both reached your highs together. “Fuck, Y/N, love you so much!”

“Sirius, yes oh fucking hell yes!!”

You both screamed some unintelligible gratitude when you came, then panted and kissed your way through the aftershocks.

“Missed you so much, my love,” he whispered as he kissed you reverently.

“Darling, I was miserable without you. My family were happy to see the back of me. And they want to meet you as soon as it’s safe.”

“You told them about me?” he gasped, actively horrified.

“I am proud that I will be your wife, and I only told Mum and Dad. You are my world, Sirius Black, and I will be damned if I am going to deny you to my parents,” you said stubbornly.

Sirius was floored by your devotion. “I love you. I am ever grateful that you have blessed my life with yours.”

“I love you, too, my darling. You are the absolute best man I know.”

“I have no idea why you believe that, but I shan’t question my good fortune,” he said, kissing you gently.

“Let’s grab a shower, you’ve made me all sweaty, you naughty monkey.”

“Let’s get a bit sweatier first. Might as well make the shower worth our while,” he said with a wink and a leer.

“What a wonderful idea,” you purred. “This time I’ll saddle you up a bit lower.”

You got cleaned up and dressed and went downstairs together, going into the kitchen for a snack when you were met with several snickering teens, Fred and George who jumped up and congratulated Sirius, saying they hoped to be as spry when they were as old as he, an amused Remus and an irritated, red-faced Molly.

“I expect you two have had a happy Christmas,” she said in a bit of a miffed tone.

Your eyes grew big and Sirius started laughing.

“Silencing charms, you two, really,” Remus said in a half-scolding, half-amused tone of voice.

“Merry Christmas?” you said, red-faced but happy to be back where you belonged.

[thegreatestsorcerertoeverserve]

Oooh Merwaine prompts. *rubs hands together* Modern AU, Bi!Gwaine dragging Merlin to a strip-club, "testing the venue" for Arthur's upcoming bachelor party. Merlin's hella gay and not a fan and also kinda-sorta in love with Gwaine. Gwaine doesn't know that. Awkward evening leads to revelations of all sorts~

“I don’t see why we have to do this!”

Gwaine laughed, practically dragging Merlin across the parking lot by the arm to where the bright neon lights showed a blinking neon lady dancing by what Merlin assumed what was supposed to be a pole, but what looked like a giant dick. Maybe that was also on purpose. 

We have to test out the venue before the stag night, Merlin. It’s the only way to be thorough.” He grabbed Merlin’s face with both hands, pulling him in close to show how serious he was. Merlin’s breath hitched, very aware that he was within three inches of Gwaine’s face. And his lips. He could feel the heat rising in his face, and he stepped away quickly, clearing his throat and attempting to look up at the strip club normally.

“Okay, correction: I don’t see why I have to do this.” 

Gwaine was following him now. Less likely to see the blush on Merlin’s cheeks. Thank god. “You’re the best man, Merlin.”

Merlin wrinkled his nose. “I’ve done a lot for Arthur over the years. But this?” 

Gwaine laughed again. “Tell you what, next weekend we’ll go to a guy’s strip club and get some dick back in your life.” Merlin grinned. “And if tonight is really that terrible, I’ll strip for you personally.” He hopped in front of Merlin, shaking his butt like some raucous chicken dance. Merlin tried to laugh at him, but the sound came out more strangled than he hoped it would. His mind was wrapped up in the idea of Gwaine stripping in front of him, shirtless, sweaty, giving him a lap dance. 

Dead puppies dead puppies dead puppies. It wouldn’t help his case to go in the club with a boner. 

Still, he had to go in eventually. He trailed Gwaine closely as he sauntered in the front door, giving a friendly nod and wave to the doorman. Gwaine had this peculiarly charming way of treating everyone like he was old friends with them, even though Merlin was positive he’d never set foot in the place before.

From the second Merlin crossed into the darkened club, he felt uncomfortable. Men old and young lounged around tables and stages, most holding dollar bills in one hand and beers in the other, all with the same mildly creepy appreciative stare as they watched the performers. Strippers wandered among the customers, tempting men with a lap dance with a sly smile and a wink. He had the absurd thought that he wanted to hang a sign around his neck saying something like “Please don’t pretend to flirt with me, I’m gay.”

He realized Gwaine had strode on ahead of him, and he hurried to follow, eyes pointed to the ground. He didn’t really have the money to waste on strippers, especially ones he wasn’t interested in.

“See, Merlin? Easy as pie.” Gwaine picked a table for them and started to look around. He motioned for a waitress to grab them beers, and when they came, Merlin grabbed his quickly, grateful to have something to focus on rather than the naked women around him or the tragically clothed man he’d come with. 

“Hi, Handsome, who might you be?” A woman appeared at Gwaine’s shoulder, trailing a finger along his arm. Gwaine looked up at her with a friendly smile, but Merlin couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes took their time traveling up her body to her eyes. He tried to convince himself the twist in his gut wasn’t jealousy. 

“The name’s Gwaine. This is Merlin.” The woman turned to Merlin, smiling wider when Merlin simply nodded at her, his hands still clamped around his beer. She mistook his nonchalance as nervousness approached him. She stuck a manicured hand out and forced him to look at her by touching a finger under his chin. 

“Hi, Merlin. I’m Mithian, and I’m going to be taking really good care of you tonight, alright?” She leaned her chest toward him, shimmying a little to really nail in the point. 

Merlin tried to telapathically tell her ‘no thank you’ but it didn’t seem to get across. Instead, he opted for, “I think you’d better start with Gwaine.” He instantly winced, but Gwaine just laughed and Mithian didn’t seem to take offense. She simply turned back to Gwaine, who offered her a bill. 

Watching a topless girl give Gwaine a lap dance was not something he’d ever thought he’d do, but Merlin found himself being strangely turned on and jealous at once. He could hear Gwaine talking casually as he watched Mithian’s hips dip lower and lower over him, though from a quick glance at Gwaine’s lap that made him sputter on the gulp of beer in his mouth, he was more than casually interested in the dance itself. Merlin found himself with a matching boner within seconds.

“We’re checking the place out for a friend’s stag night. Merlin here’s the best man and, well, I’m the best partier.” 

Mithian nodded. “A lot of guys have their stag nights here.” She flipped around to give Gwaine a front view. Like a gentleman, Merlin noted, Gwaine looked her in the eyes while he talked.

“You’d recommend the place, then?”

“That depends.” Mithian smirked. “Do you tip well?”

That made Gwaine throw back his head and laugh. Merlin himself cracked a grin. He was starting to like Mithian, though he did feel a ridiculous twinge of regret that he was not the person who’d made Gwaine laugh like that. Merlin pulled his gaze away from Gwaine, hoping he hadn’t been staring, and  caught Mithian’s eye. She threw a quick glance to Merlin’s lap and gave him a wink, though she returned to dancing so quickly Merlin half convinced himself he made it up.

Merlin didn’t pay attention to the rest of their conversation, mostly because he couldn’t hear it over the thumpa thumpa of a new song, but he vaguely watched the way the corners of Gwaine’s mouth tugged up fondly as he spoke. The song ended shortly and Gwaine refused another dance, making some saucy comment Merlin couldn’t hear that made Mithian blush in spite of herself. Another one of Gwaine’s talents: he could seduce anyone, even someone who was hit on every day of work like Mithian. 

Gwaine and Merlin turned their attention to the stage, where a leather-clad dancer swung around the pole in six inch heels. Though they briefly agreed on how nice Mithian had been, Merlin was sure they were both trying to get their pants to lie flat again. 

“You know, if you want him, you just have to say so.” Merlin almost jumped out of his skin. Mithian was bending down behind him, her lips an inch from his ear so he could hear her over the music.

“What do you- what do you mean?” 

Mithian shook her head. “Please. I’ve been in this business for a while, Merlin, I know what desire looks like. You want him.” She gave a minuscule jerk of her head toward Gwaine, who was still concentrated on the stage.

Merlin couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. “It’s more than that-” He protested.

“You love him.” Mithian smiled wider. “Even better.”

“How is that better?!” 

Mithian glanced up at Gwaine. “I know what desire looks like.”

Then she was gone, swaying toward another customer with more grace than Merlin had ever had in his life. “Alright Merlin, what do you say we get out of here?” Gwaine stood up lazily, patting Merlin on the shoulder. 

Merlin furrowed his eyebrows, looking at his watch. “But it’s still early,” 

Gwaine shrugged and left a hefty tip for the waiter. Merlin would never understand how he managed to go out so much and still tip well with his crappy job. “I’m sold on this place. You?”

Merlin gave the place a last cursory glance. “Sure. Where are we going?”

A bar was the answer, of course. They sat at the bar, Merlin sipping a hard cider and Gwaine a frilly sex on the beach (his taste in alcohol ranged from straight vodka to the fruitiest and sweetest cocktails). They settled comfortably, Gwaine leaning back in his chair, not taking his eyes off Merlin. 

“So what were you talking to Mithian about, Merlin?” His voice was casual and curious, but Merlin’s face instantly started to heat up. 

“Oh, nothing, we were just… talking about the party.” 

Gwaine shifted, still not satisfied. He was in interrogation mode, Merlin could tell. “The party, really? It looked like she was urging you to do something.”

Merlin hesitated, holding eye contact with Gwaine. I know what desire looks like, Mithian had said. Could she possibly have meant…?

Merlin took a deep breath and downed the rest of his scotch. “Well, the truth is, Gwaine, I… want you.”

Gwaine did a double take, blinking. “You…” 

“I have feelings for you. And I know that it could do terrible things to our friendship, but… I want you.” Merlin felt a wave of relief wash over him. He’d said it. It was immediately shattered when he saw the mischevious grin on Gwaine’s face.

“Finally!” he scooted out of his seat and grabbed Merlin by the arm, pulling him abruptly out the door.

“Gwaine, what-”

“It took you long enough!” Gwaine continued on his rant like he’d never stopped, pushing Merlin up against the brick wall. 

Merlin sputtered. “Long enough? For wh-” 

“I have been wanting to jump your bones since the moment I laid eyes on you, Merlin. I didn’t exactly try to hide it.” His grin widened as he pressed his body fully against Merlin, his hands on either side of Merlin’s head on the wall as he kissed him. When he pulled away, he noticed Merlin’s look of shock for the first time. “Are you telling me you seriously didn’t know?” 

Merlin shook his head slowly, incredulous joy running around his head. Gwaine put his head back and laughed, tugging Merlin away again and pushing him in the direction of his motorcycle. “You’ve been spending too much time around Arthur, Merlin,”

Merlin laughed, putting his helmet on. “How do you figure?” 

Gwaine pulled Merlin in for another kiss before answering. “He’s an oblivious idiot. Apparently, it rubbed off. Now come on, loverboy, let’s go home.” He waggled his eyebrows and Merlin swore, if he wasn’t head over heels in love with the man, he would’ve hit him. As it was, he just climbed on the back of the motorcycle and held on.