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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 1 year

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Soreness

Prompts: Ohhhh I'd love love love a magical exhaustsion resulting in just severe soreness Merlin fic if you wanna - anon

Hello! I adore your fics they scratch an itch in my brain. Feel free to ignore this prompt, but: Merlin being magic incarnate making his senses extremely heightened, including touch; he learns to suppress all his senses until they’re duller than an average persons, which minimizes the pain from his adventures but leaves him very numb and extremely touch starved as being touched when his senses are dulled feels like nothing; queue Arthur(+maybe the knights?) finding out about this - anon

I've been re reading the merlin fics and I wanted to request something but all I can think of is Arthur's my Merlin like I am so soft for them you do not understand - anon

Read on Ao3 Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: touch starvation, sensory deprivation, chronic pain (dunno if those are warnings really????)

Pairings: Merthur

Word Count: 1802

Arthur walks into his chambers to see Merlin collapsed face-first on the bed and instantly panics.

“Merlin,” he calls, hurrying over, fully prepared to holler for Gaius, for the knights, anyone, “Merlin, are you alright?”

Merlin’s eyelids flutter and his head twitches, eyes just barely opening as Arthur leans over him. “‘rthur?”

“Yes, Merlin, it’s me, I’m right here.” No obvious injuries, doesn’t appear to be anything else wrong… “Can you tell me what’s the matter?”

“Tried to make the bed…” He shifts a little. “Got…got sore.”

“You got sore? Is—is it your magic again?”

Merlin mumbles into the pillow and Arthur bites back a curse.

“Merlin, can I—can I flip you over?”

“What?”

“I want to be able to hear you, and you’re talking more to the blankets than to me. Can I turn you over? I’ll be careful.”

Merlin snuffles into the bedspread—adorable—and nods. Arthur takes a deep breath and carefully works his hands under Merlin’s torso and rolls him over, reaching up to cradle his head to ensure it comes back down softly. He then kneels down and takes his boots off, adjusting him so he’s laying on the bed properly.

Merlin blinks up at him when he moves to sit on the edge of the bed so he won’t strain his neck. “Did you take my boots off?”

“You’re not lying in my bed in your boots, Merlin.”

“’S not the first time.”

“Not the—Merlin, have you been sleeping in my bed with your shoes on?”

It’s almost worth it for the small smile that comes to Merlin’s face as Arthur splutters indignantly. Almost.

“Alright—aside from that,” Arthur huffs, shaking his head, “can you tell me what you said?”

“Huh?”

“When I asked you if it was your magic again, you said something I couldn’t hear, what was it?”

Merlin lets out a long breath, his chest deflating. “’S…’s not really the…same thing.”

“So you’re not repressing your magic and it’s not hurting you?”

His arm twitches as though he’s about to weakly smack him—don’t worry, Merlin, I’m sure it would’ve been a good one—and he huffs. “’S not the same thing.”

“So what is it, then?”

“’S…’s different.”

Arthur resists the urge to snap. He takes his own deep breath and leans down, carefully brushing Merlin’s hair back from his face.

“I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong,” he murmurs, trying to make himself sound as earnest and sincere as possible, “let me help you.”

Merlin blinks up at him, eyes still heavy, before he swallows. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“It’s—’s—you have to stop,” he mumbles,” can’—can’t think with your hand on me.”

Arthur’s hand flies away so quickly it’s like he burned it.

“N-no, I—“ Merlin shudders again. “Sorry. ‘urts a lot.”

“Take your time. It’s alright.”

He takes another moment to gather himself before he’s looking back up at Arthur properly. “Magic makes me feel. A lot. All the time. Too much, sometimes.”

Arthur nods. Merlin bites his lip.

“So…so I make it…feel less.”

“What do you mean, ‘make it feel less?’”

“Like…I make it so I feel it less.”

“Merlin, unless you’re trying to tell me that you repress all of your senses, then…” Arthur trails off when Merlin’s head bobbles in a nod. “…you—that is what you’re trying to tell me?”

“For quests, I have to make it hurt less. Then here I can’t—magic is—you know that bit.”

Yes. That bit.

‘That bit’ being that Merlin is in an environment so hostile to his every existence that he’s forced to repress such an integral part of himself that it causes him pain. That he’s so terrified to just be around Arthur, the knights, around Camelot that he’s constantly aware of it, constantly about to be executed.

‘That bit,’ indeed.

But this…

“So…so you’re saying that you—you repress everything? Sight, smell, hearing, taste, even touch? Truly everything?”

“Not all the way. ’S like putting blinders on a horse.”

“Merlin…”

“What?”

Arthur almost scoffs. ‘What,’ he says, like he’s supposed to compare himself to a—a mere service than who he really is, and I’m not supposed to be upset by it? “I—how do I help?”

Merlin shifts a little, expression pulling as the pain must shift too. “Normally…normally Aithusa helps. But she’s busy today so I…thought I could…”

Thought I could go without, goes unsaid but Arthur hears it perfectly well.

“What does she do?”

“Just, er…” A pretty little flush comes to Merlin’s cheeks. “…touches me.”

“Well, I’m not magic, but I can touch you.”

The flush darkens. “Arthur!”

“Oh, not like that, Merlin—well—alright, I’m being mean,” he chuckles when Merlin scowls up at him, “I’m serious, though. If…if touch is what you need, you can have it from me.”

The scowl morphs into something still suspicious, but a tad more hopeful. “Really?”

“Really.” He smiles, shucking off his own boots and leaning up. “I can be your dragon today.”

Please, Merlin, let me help. Let me help you.

Merlin looks at him a moment longer before he dips his head in a shaky nod. Arthur smiles and lifts his hands, waiting.

“What should I do? What does the dragon normally do?”

“W-well, she, er…kind of…lies on top of me? But you don’t have to—“

But Arthur’s already moving, careful of his weight and limbs, to rest gently on top of Merlin, smiling a little at his surprised little face. “Alright?”

“…you’re heavy.”

“If you’re about to tell me I weigh more than a dragon—“

“No, no, ’s good. In this case.”

He gently swats Merlin’s shoulder in retaliation. “Is this it, then?”

“Er—that’s all you have to do if you want to.”

“Not what I asked,” he corrects softly, “what else do you need?”

“Well—er—I—“

At the sound of his somewhat frantic babbling, Arthur leans up to look him in the eye. “I’m here to help, Merlin, you can ask for what you need. But if you’re not comfortable, then that’s alright too.”

“…she licks my hands, Arthur.”

“Ah.” He chuckles. “Well, no, I’m not doing that.”

“Figured.”

“But I can kiss them.”

“You—what?”

“Merlin,” he says softly, reaching up to cradle one of Merlin’s hands in his, “can I kiss your hands?”

“Y-yes? But Arthur, you really don’t—don’t—oh.”

For Arthur had carefully brought Merlin’s hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it, then turned it over to kiss the palm. He presses kisses gently to each of his fingertips, stroking the rest with his thumb. Then he reaches for the other to give it the same treatment, looking up at Merlin when he’s finished.

“What else?”

“I…er…my neck.”

“Your neck?” Arthur leans down. “Should I kiss you here too?”

“Arthur, you don’t have to do this,” Merlin almost pleads, “it—just lying on top of me is fine.”

“How many times am I going to have to say it,” he murmurs, soft tone taking all the bite from the words, “I want to help you. Let me help you.”

“This is more than just helping me.”

“Oh? Then what is it?”

“This is—this is—“

“What?”

Merlin just stares up at him. There’s a strange fear on his face that makes Arthur stop, propping himself up to look at Merlin properly.

“What is it,” he asks gently, “am I being too much?”

“N-no, I just—I—“

To his dismay, tears begin to well up in Merlin’s eyes.

“Oh, hey, hey,” he croons, cupping Merlin’s face in his hands and wiping away the tears, “don’t cry, sweetheart, don’t cry.”

This just makes Merlin sob harder.

“Shh, shh, oh, Merlin, you big baby…” He leans down and rests their foreheads together. “Tell me, tell me what’s wrong. Is it hurting more? Am I making it worse?”

Merlin’s hands come up to clutch weakly at his sleeves and tug. Arthur obeys, laying down a little more so Merlin can feel the press of his weight.

“You’ve got me. See? I’m right here. You got me.”

“’S so much,” Merlin sobs, “so much an’ so good an’ I—I want it.”

Arthur feels the relieved smile spread across his face, breath shuddering out alongside Merlin’s. “Okay. Okay, I want it too. That’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here.”

He leans down to kiss Merlin’s neck, careful, careful, always careful. Merlin just clings to him as tight as he can—which is admittedly not all that tight, not when his hands are so sore. Arthur pushes up into the touch whenever he feels it, a silent reward for asking for what he needs.

“’S so warm,” Merlin’s throat rumbles against his lips, “you’re so—you’re so warm.”

Arthur chuckles. “You going to steal my body heat?”

“Yes. Selfish prick, you are.”

“That’s me.” He drags his lips up and over the curve of Merlin’s jaw, ending at his cheek. “A selfish prick.”

Merlin sniffles. “Least you know it.”

He smiles, letting his nose brush Merlin’s temple. He shifts his weight just a little, just to ensure he’s not crushing the man beneath him, before he softly presses his lips to the very corner of Merlin’s mouth.

Merlin goes still.

“Sorry,” he mutters, pulling away, “sorry, should’ve asked.”

“…I didn’t mind.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t mind.” Merlin looks up at him. “Could do it again, if you wanted.”

A surge of hope in Arthur’s chest. “Aithusa do that for you too?”

“No, just you.” Merlin tilts his head. “Please?”

Oh, Merlin, I will never tell you how little I can refuse you if you say please.

And Arthur’s all too happy to lean down and seal their mouths together, smiling as he feels the familiar tingle of Merlin’s magic as he starts to kiss back.

There you are, he thinks, I’ve missed you.

#dragonbabbles #merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc

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spacerainbows · 6 years

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Pick 10 ships before reading/answering the questions

chronologically ordered

I found this posted on someone’s blog and even though I want tagged I decided to do it anyway

1. Destiel (Supernatural)

2. Sabriel (Supernatural)

3. Drarry (Harry Potter)

4. Spirk(Star Trek TOS/AOS)

5. Johnlock (Sherlock BBC)

6. Merthur (Merlin)

7. Cockles (Supernatural actors{Misha and Jensen )

8. Jim/Pam(The Office)

9. Stony(Marvel)

10. Spideypool (Marvel)

1 - Do you remember the episode/scene/ chapter that you first started shipping 6?

Merlin was recommended to me by a friend that already shipped Merthur, so I ended up walking into it expecting to ship it. I already shipped it by the end of the first season because they are so reliant on each other and “two sides of the same coin” I call soulmates

2 - Have you ever read a fic about 2?

Yes I have. I actually started shipping it because of fan fiction because there isn’t a ton of fule for it in the show. Way to go random destiel works for getting into a new ship*distant sounds of applause*

3 - Has a picture of 4 ever been your screensaver/ profile pic / tumblr?

Yes it actually is my phone screensaver currently. I’m rewatching TOS and it’s wonderful. My name is based around an inside joke with my brother regarding spirk and the enterprise so I guess that counts for something I found a shirt with the enterprise that had a rainbow trail behind it and my brother said “You know it’s because Kirk and Spock are getting it on” and I said “It’s just the spacerainbows having some fun”. Yeah that probably didn’t need to be said. Anyway…

4 - If 7 were to suddenly break up today, what would your reaction be?

I’d cry. Cockles is beautiful. The conventions would fall and it would be sad. They are wonderful together and they know it. I would never let this happen. Even if they aren’t actually together*for all that we know* so much could happen if it stopped. Also a good section of tumblr would probably be crying and rage posting.

5 - Why is 1 so important?

I don’t know if this question means important to me or the fandom so I’ll explain my thoughts on both. For me it seems so important because Dean has been alone for most of his life constantly worrying about protecting his little brother. He always needed to be strong enough to protect because there was no one really there to protect him. Then enters Castiel, a celestial being capable of killing thousands in seconds. He’s an angel of the lord who “gripped Dean right and raised him from perdition” He has the capability to protect Dean, but Dean needs to be able to let him. I feel like this took many seasons for him to finally admit and he still doesn’t but through all of it while Castiel looses and regains his mojo Dean is always there for as much as he can. They protect one another. Dean can finally have the comfort he needs. And then there’s Cas. He’s an angel. They appear as emotionless beings that could care less about the world but Castiel isn’t, and right at the beginning in season 4 you could tell that he knew this. He was scared to admit to himself that he could and did feel. The first person he confides in is Dean. Throughout the show he embraces these feelings and grows new ones and learns the meaning of love and family*cried over season 12 episode 12* They’re always there for each other,and even if the show never shows them as anything other than platonic, their still friendship means so much. As for the fandom as a whole, I feel as though it’s provided a focus point and feeling to build. I feel like all good shows have two characters that fit so perfectly, either as friends or lovers, together; just watching the relationship solidify and grow is just showing how amazing character development can be. Then there is the fandom uniting over it. I don’t really care if you ship destiel or not or you ship wincest or samstiel or nothing at all, you still know that it exists and is something that is talked about in the show. The fact that it has come up as a topic in the show itself shows how much it has affected the Supernatural fandom as a whole.

6 - Which one has the strongest bond?

I’d have to say Spirk. Throughout both aos and tos they would do anything for each other. They would stand by each other during death and fight to save each other. Not to mention the Vulcan bonding or honds. #t’hy’la

7 - Which ship has lasted the longest

Spirk. Probably. I mean it’s know as one of the first slash pairings in existence and one of the first to actually start the spread of a fandom gathering and forming around one thing. It’s sometimes called the flagship or the mothership. I’ve shipped it since I was a little kid because I grew up watching tos and the movies. My dad said would say that they were secretly gay for one another as a joke and my small young mind believed him so I got mad whenever they were ever with anyone else and they shipped caried over to when I took to watching it again on my own. And small me also noticed how similar their actions were to straight couples and I asked my dad if they were dating and that’s what led to the secretly gay thing that my dad started saying

8 - How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up I mean.

They never canonically got together and one of them is kinda dead now until further notice. If you want to count when and before Arthur dies because of the fight and his death than sure, but there were other times when they would get with other people and Arthur was kinda married to Gwen by the end of the show so…

9 - If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive? 2 or 8?

2. Sorry Jim and Pam but you’re being pinned against a hunter who deals with zombies on a daily basis-one of the actually less crazy things he’s seen- and an arch angel capable of snapping his fingers and changing things to fit his desires. I think they would be pretty good. Also angels can heal and not die unless killed by an angel blade or in Gabriel’s case an arch angel blade, so unless a zombie can find one and stab Gabe I think they’d make it out pretty unscathed. 10 - Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reasons? I mean, this could be canon, but for all I know it isn’t, soooo i don’t really know the answer but for all we know they could secretly be hiding it right now.

11 - Is 4 still together?

I mean, is you take into account the new information brought from aos you know they’ve known and been friends with each other until Jim’s death. So I can only imagine that if it truly were canon they would still be together because they’d be able to go against time as they’ve done it before for each other.

12 - Is 10 canon?

Na, the only canon thing on my list is Jim and Pam. They are adorable and great btw. I shipped them by the end of the very short first season and all their interactions are adorable and all the stuff they go through to finally be happy together and when the start a family, aaaaaaaaa, it’s just too great.

13 - If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win?

If I had to answer honestly I’d say it come down between 1 and 2 because of the healing capabilities, and then it would be a 4 way suicide. Sam and Dean would never be able to kill each other and I doubt Cas and Gabe would want to kill each other either, so it would either be a battle that would never end or a suicide. Also DON’T THROW MY CHILDREN INTO A PIT OF DEATH i cry

14 - Has anyone ever tried to sabotage 5?

Mary Watson… you know how she ended up. She’s actually great though.

15 - Do you spend hours a day going though 3’s tag

Not as much as I used to but if I get a sudden urge.

16 - If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all up, which ship would you SINK?!

Stony. Sorry, but civil war kinda happened. If that fight doesn’t count as a break up as is for their not canon pairings I don’t really know what does.

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a-colourful-stranger · 6 years

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day 6: have yourself a merry little christmas

> summary: in recent memory, every christmas merlin has spent at arthur’s side as been festivities and joy. this year is different. in fact, it’s rather depressing. merlin volunteers himself to bring the happiness back into christmas--and arthur. (takes place prior to la douleur exquise in kairos ‘verse) > ship: merthur > words: 4224 > song: have yourself a merry little christmas by frank sinatra

The snow fell softly against his shoulders as he sat on the steps of the citadel. The cobblestoned courtyard was covered in a fresh layer of snow and the city was eerily quiet. Most of the citizens were bundled up beside their fireplaces struggling to stay warm in the sudden bout of cold weather they’d been receiving. Though, in Merlin’s memory, every winter was like this in Camelot but with each passing year people complained no matter what.

He was the only one outside, he’d been sitting on the steps for so long that if he stood there would be no snow in his place. He’d escaped from the confines of the citadel about an hour ago, after Arthur went to have dinner with his father, and Gwaine tried to twist his arm into joining him at the tavern. He’d declined politely saying, “I’m not really in the mood tonight,” and Gwaine replied, “That’s the best time to go, my friend.”

He folded his arms across his chest, trying to salvage what heat he had left in his cloak. With no one around, he whispered out a quiet spell to warm the chill settling down in his bones. If someone were to ask him why he was outside if he was so cold, what would he even say? That he was trying to escape from the chaotic hell of the citadel? That he wanted to get away from his responsibilities, if only for an hour?

Christmas was a hectic time for him, especially this year. Uther was unable to host the Christmas festivities that generally went on, so Arthur was in charge – meaning Merlin was in charge. He had feasts to plan, speeches to write and robes to clean. He was so tired—he could be using this time to catch up on sleep, but instead he’s brooding on the steps of the castle.

“Merlin?” he heard from the doors behind him.

He sighed, his breath leaving a cloud in front of him, “Yes?”

“Arthur is looking for you,” Lancelot said as he joined Merlin on the steps. The snow crunched beneath his boots. “Why are you out here?”

“It’s quiet,” Merlin answered and Lancelot nodded slowly. “Why is Arthur looking for me? He’s supposed to be with Uther.”

“I don’t know,” Lancelot replied, “he wasn’t with the king when I saw him. He was in the kitchens.”

“What?” Merlin’s back straightened slightly, “What was he doing there?”

“Once again, I don’t know,” Lancelot held out his hand and helped Merlin stand up. The knight brushed off the snow piling on Merlin’s shoulders, “Come on,” and he started back up the stairs.

“Where are we going?” Merlin followed him despite himself.

“You have so many questions tonight, Merlin,” Lancelot chuckled and looked back at him. There was a strange glint in his eyes and it made Merlin even more confused. Lancelot knew something that Merlin did not. “We’re going inside and standing by a fire place, you are frozen and if Arthur hears that you were sitting out in the freezing cold he will have my head.”

That was true. Arthur was very adamant that Merlin was to never be outside in the cold – not after what happened in the summer. He made sure to give Merlin an extra blanket if they were outside for the night and that he wore extra clothes. And if Arthur wasn’t around to check, the other knights made sure they gave Merlin their cloaks if he even showed any signs of shivering. They were all very protective of him.

Lancelot led him up the stairs towards the royal chambers, which puzzled Merlin. Why were they here? If they were going to stand by a fire, he thought it would be in the knights’ quarters or in Lancelot’s chambers.

“Are you ready for Christmas?” Lancelot asked as they walked down the long corridor.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” Merlin mumbled, “there is still so much to do.”

“Well, maybe tonight you can relax a bit,” Lancelot said with the same glint in his eyes.

Merlin stopped, “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

The knight smirked, “What do you mean?”

“Where is Arthur?”

“I told you, I don’t know—” Lancelot was cut off by Merlin smacking his arm. Lancelot laughed, “I’m being honest, I don’t—”

“Do not lie to me, Lancelot,” Merlin glared. “Where is he?”

For a moment, there was a silent battle between them. Lancelot was not backing down but Merlin lit up his eyes for a moment – a minor spell that only flickered a torch near them – but Lancelot caught the movement. The knight groaned, “You can’t tell him I told you.”

“What is it?”

“When you go into his chambers, he’s… Uh,” Lancelot rubbed the back of his head, “he’s got a dinner ready for you.”

Merlin’s heart beat hard against his chest, “Excuse me?”

Lancelot smiled softly, “Go see for yourself. He really cares about you, Merlin. He went all out for you.”

Lancelot was the only one that knew about his and Arthur’s… situation. Merlin knew they could trust him, Arthur trusted no one – other than Merlin – more than Lancelot and Merlin had the same sentiments, after all Lancelot hadn’t told a soul about his magic.

Merlin’s eyes flickered to Arthur’s chamber doors only a few feet away, “Why?”

“Do you even have to ask that, Merlin?” Lancelot asked him, “Listen, just go in there. He may be an ass sometimes, but he can always see when you’re overworked – which you are. No one is going to come looking for you all night. I made sure of that.”

The sorcerer wet his lips, “You didn’t have to do this.”

“After the year we all had? You two deserve to relax with one another. Now stop talking to me, go see your prince.”

At Lancelot’s words, Merlin’s stomach flipped. His prince. Arthur was his prince. His future king. There was no one else on this earth he’d rather spend his evening with. He thanked Lancelot, who backed away slowly and nodded for Merlin to go in.

Slowly, he pushed on the two doors and he immediately felt a change. Rather than the chill that had found a home in the halls of the citadel, it was so warm that Merlin felt he could fall asleep by just standing there. Arthur was across the room by the fireplace, he looked the same as he did when Merlin last saw him when he was going to Uther’s room; except for the soft grin playing on his lips.

“Good evening,” Arthur said quietly. He was nervous, Merlin could tell. If it weren’t for his knowledge of the night to come, Merlin would have been concerned. He and Arthur had been together since the summer. They’d spent many a night together and Arthur had never been nervous.

“Hi,” Merlin smiled, he shut the doors behind him and latching them shut. Before he could turn back around, Arthur was behind him. Arthur slid his arms around Merlin’s waist and pulled him against him, “You’re friendly tonight.”

“I missed you,” Arthur whispered into his shoulder.

“You saw me a few hours ago,” Merlin rested in his arms, his eyes fluttered shut.

“That was different,” Arthur moved so he could kiss Merlin’s neck gently, “we’ve been so busy… I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

They stood there for a few minutes, Arthur kissing his neck and Merlin letting it happen. Arthur wasn’t doing it to start anything, he would be doing it differently if he was. The prince was trying to ground himself, Merlin thought, to bring him back to this world that was just the two of them.

“I’ve brought you dinner,” Arthur pulled away slightly, “have you eaten?”

“No. I haven’t had the time,” Merlin regretted his words when Arthur winced.

“I am sorry,” Arthur said, Merlin turned and saw pain on Arthur’s face. “I know this year has been busier than usual. With my father—”

“You don’t need to apologise, Arthur, it isn’t your fault. You know that.” Merlin cupped Arthur’s cheek and rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone. He changed the subject, “What did you bring for dinner?”

Arthur motioned to the table not too far from where they stood. The dinner, though it was the size of feast, consisted of all sorts of holiday foods. From cakes, to puddings, to roast chickens and geese, and more bread than Merlin had ever seen at the annual Christmas feast. Arthur sat them down so they were seated next to each other, he preferred it that way over seating at different sides of the table. He once said it made it feel like a dinner he was at against his will.

While they ate, Merlin noticed Arthur was still nervous. His hands fumbled with the cuff of his sleeve and they were shaking slightly, to the point he spilt some wine on the table as he poured Merlin a cup. “Are you okay?” Merlin asked him at one point.

Arthur’s eyes shot up to his, his mask of faux confidence faltered and Merlin saw the raw nervousness going on in the prince’s head, “I’m fine,” he lied. He almost got after Arthur for not talking to him. One of the main things in their relationship was to talk to each other when something was wrong. The night they first kissed, Merlin had gotten after Arthur for keeping things bottled up.

He didn’t though. Not tonight. If Arthur was nervous, there was something on his mind and he trusted Arthur. He would tell him if he wanted to, if not, Merlin would pry it out of him later.

The prince cleared his throat, “So, h-how did you celebrate Christmas with your mother? I don’t think I have ever asked.”

Merlin swallowed the bite of chicken he had been chewing, “We didn’t do much. We sat together near the fire trying to stay warm. The winters are even more unforgiving in Ealdor than they are here,” Arthur raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t believe him, “it’s true! I thought my toes would fall off most winters. It was awful…” he sighed, “but I enjoyed Christmas. Mum would knit me something usually, unless we had some gold left over from something, then she’d ask someone heading into town to get me something like a trinket.” He shrugged and leaned back in his chair, “Sometimes Will would join us. His father wasn’t the greatest, so mum let him stay over. It was nice.”

Arthur placed his arm on the back of Merlin’s chair, his fingers brushed by Merlin’s shoulder, “When I was young,” Arthur began, “we would have feasts and banquets, much like now. Except, at night when the noblemen and ladies would continue on drinking, I would have to go to bed. I couldn’t sleep though,” he said thoughtfully, “I wanted to be with everyone else. I didn’t think it was fair.”

He laughed, “Now you can’t wait to get out of there.”

“Yes,” Arthur smiled, “but back then, I wanted to be there celebrating with the adults. I-I felt so left out, I started to cry… Just when I thought the tears would never stop, my chamber doors opened and it was my father. He’d snuck out of the feast to see me. He set up a fur blanket near the fireplace and we laid there together.”

Merlin looked to the prince, “What did you talk about?”

“Anything really. I liked it, because we weren’t the king and the prince of Camelot. We were just a son and a father celebrating Christmas together,” Arthur let out a breath, “we stopped doing that when I got a bit older. What with having more responsibilities and taking part in the festivities, we never had the time.”

The tension changed in the room, Merlin could see sadness cloud in Arthur’s eyes. He reached up, cupping Arthur’s cheek, “He’ll get better. It just takes time.”

“I know,” Arthur sighed, he looked softly into Merlin’s eyes, “I love you.”

He smiled, “I love you too,” slowly Arthur leaned in and they kissed gently.

Merlin realised as their lips met one another that it had been some time since they last kissed without worrying about someone coming in or being interrupted. Even at night when it was just the two of them, there was still a fear neither would voice that someone would barge into Arthur’s chambers and find them. It would naïve of them to not feel that fear right now, Lancelot could only do so much if something happened.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against Arthur’s, “Thank you for dinner,” he whispered. Arthur breathed in anxiously and Merlin pulled back even more, “Arthur?”

“T-There’s more,” Arthur swallowed, “I have more for you,” he got up and crossed the room to his bedside table. Merlin’s eyes followed him as he moved about the room. He watched as Arthur pulled a box from under the bed, and he briefly wondered how he hadn’t noticed it when he was cleaning this morning. Arthur came back to him holding the box, it was made of wood and had a piece of twined tied on top with a bow. Arthur shoved it towards him, “This if for you.”

Merlin eyed it carefully, “This is for me?”

“Yeah. I had it made a few weeks ago, s-so that if you heard about it or something, you’d forget about it by the time Christmas came along,” Arthur shifted on his feet nervously.

Slowly, Merlin took the box from Arthur and laid it down on the table, “What is it?” he asked.

“Open it,” Arthur had the hint of a smile going but his nervousness masked it.

Merlin pulled on the twine and it slipped open. He lifted the lid of the box and inside laid a piece of crimson red fabric. Gently, he picked up the fabric and pulled it out. It was a neckerchief, a Pendragon red neckerchief with the dragon crest stitched in golden thread. He let out a laugh, “It’s a neckerchief?”

Arthur blushed, “Yes. I thought you could use a new one and I wanted it to have a part of me on it.” He stared down at the neckerchief in his hands. He had never received something so meaningful, and with so much emotion behind it. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to wear it all the time, without people wondering why you’re wearing the Pendragon crest…” Arthur trailed off.

He quickly pulled off the blue one he was wearing and stood up, holding out the new neckerchief for Arthur to take. Arthur was puzzled before he caught on and slid it around Merlin’s neck. Merlin held his breath as he watched Arthur focus on tying the knot. His stunning blue eyes were furrowed in concentration. Suddenly, they shifted so they were looking directly into Merlin’s eyes and the prince spoke, “You’re perfect.”

Merlin placed his hands on Arthur’s chest, he could feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric, “Thank you, Arthur.”

“You’re welcome,” Arthur pecked him on the lips and he placed his hands on Merlin’s hips, “I wish there was a way for it to be like this. For you to be at my side, as my equal, rather than hidden away as my manservant. I want people to know that it is you that I love.”

“One day,” Merlin murmured. “One day we can stop… having Lancelot guard the door and we can be in here without worrying.”

“I want that,” Arthur shifted closer, “but I suppose, this is fine for now.” He fingered the neckerchief, “There’s more. I did more for you.”

“Why?” Merlin found himself asking, “Why did you do all of this for me?”

Arthur chuckled, “This is the bare minimum, you know? I could have done so much more but I don’t like you enough for grand gestures.”

“You’re an ass.”

Arthur only smirked and pulled him away from the table with their still steaming food. Merlin let himself be dragged until they reached Arthur’s bedside. “Get into bed,” Arthur said in a gentle voice. “I’ll be right back.”

As Merlin toes off his boots and lifts his shirt over his head – leaving the neckerchief on – he sees Arthur go to his chamber doors and opens it, careful to keep them closed just enough. He can hear Arthur and Lancelot whispering to one another, at one point Lancelot laughed, and Arthur glanced back in the room with a blush rising on his cheeks. He watched as Arthur prepared to the shut the door but a call from outside stopped him in his tracks.

“MERLIIIIN!” Gwaine bellowed from down the hall. “I know you’re in there, Merls, come on out let’s go out in the snow!”

“Gwaine, you’re piss drunk, go to sleep,” Lancelot’s voice rose in warning.

“Mmm, nope,” Gwaine was at the door now because he shouted, “Evening, Sire, how are you? Where’s Merlin?”

“He’s not here,” Arthur was tense, “I don’t know where he is. If you find him, let me know, he has work to do.”

“It’s almost bloody Christmas, give him a break,” Gwaine slurred, “he’s a good boy and you treat him like shit sometimes. It’s not right. He deserves better than your bullshit everyday. He needs someone that isn’t goin’ to get mad at him for using the wrong polish for his boots.”

“Gwaine…” Lancelot sighed.

“J-Just let him go, Arthur,” Merlin laid down on the bed and let his eyes fall shut. “Let him go and let someone who actually appreciates him have him. C-Come on, Arthur, he’s too good for you—”

“Be quiet,” Arthur’s voice was stern and at the sound of it Merlin reopened his eyes. “I am going to excuse everything you have just said on the account of you being drunk. However, if I ever hear you say anything like that again I will have you punished.”

“Punished? For what? Saying that you’re a total fucking asshole to Merlin—”

“Get some sleep, Gwaine,” Arthur began to shut the door, “goodnight.” The door shut and Arthur slammed his head against the oak, before he glanced over his shoulder at Merlin. “Gwaine is wondering where you are.”

“I heard,” Merlin sat up.

The prince barred the door shut, what with Gwaine still chirping about in the hallway, before he took off his shirt and joined Merlin across the room in bed. He crawled into Merlin’s lap and applied enough pressure until Merlin was laying down. “I am sorry about that,” Arthur hovered over him.

“It’s just Gwaine,” Merlin shrugged.

Arthur leaned down and began kissing softly at Merlin’s neck, “He’s a nuisance.”

“It’s just Gwaine,” he repeated and he felt Arthur’s groan against where he was kissing at his collarbone. “What?”

“He ruined the night,” Arthur sighed in defeat and fell beside Merlin on the bed. “I didn’t expect to have Gwaine pissed and yelling at me when I could have been in here with you.”

“Arthur, he didn’t ruin anything,” he quickly rolled onto his side and forced Arthur to look at him. “This night has been perfect. Don’t let Gwaine get to you. He’s an ass. A drunk ass. Whereas you, are sweet and I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Arthur said.

He didn’t lay down just yet, and instead watched Arthur thoughtfully. There was something hidden beneath those eyes. There was always something beneath them. He loved them. He loved Arthur. “I love you,” he repeated and Arthur said nothing this time. The blond raised his head off of his pillow and brushed his lips against Merlin’s. As Arthur’s tongue swept along his bottom lip, he spoke, “He’s wrong, you know?”

“What?”

“Gwaine. He’s wrong. You are good to me,” Merlin said.

“Stop talking about Gwaine,” Arthur groaned. “He isn’t important.”

“You are so good to me. You organised this dinner, you had this neckerchief made… Yes, you are a bit of a prat when it’s not just the two of us but you do that because you are good to me.” He pet Arthur’s hair, “Do you remember what you did when I was cursed?”’

“Tell me.”

He wet his lips, “You were so concerned about me but you didn’t say a word. You didn’t say anything until you took me hunting and you started telling me about how I was your best friend and how you would never forgive yourself if I’d died—”

“It’s true,” Arthur interjected.

“Anyway, when it got really bad and I-I was dying… You saved me,” he sighed wistfully. “You saved me and then you wouldn’t leave me alone for weeks because you are good. You are so fucking good, Arthur—Arthur!”

Arthur flipped them over suddenly, pinning Merlin beneath him and had his lips only a millimeter away from Merlin’s, “You are going to be the death of me.”

“That would be unfortunate—killing you on Christmas. I am sure I would receive a letter thanking me from Morgana,” he puckered his lips just to get a feel of Arthur’s against his.

“Mm, never talk about Morgana while we’re in bed,” Arthur nuzzled his nose, but still did not kiss him. “Or anyone for that matter, other than me.”

Merlin let out a laugh, “Not even Gaius? Talking about his potions doesn’t get you in the mood?”

“Merlin,” it sounded as if Arthur growled, “please be quiet.”

A sigh left Merlin’s lips, “You said earlier there was something more. What is it?”

The prince groaned again, “It was nothing.”

“Arthur.”

“It was not this,” Arthur finally kissed him, leaving no argument for what this was. They laid in bed for a long time. Kissing, grabbing at each other and stifling moans against each other’s mouths, until Arthur pulled away. His lips were red and swollen, shining slightly. “I-I wanted to lay in bed with you. Not doing anything, just laying under the covers talking. It is stupid, I realise, when we could be doing this instead.”

“No, it isn’t stupid,” Merlin quickly shoved Arthur off of him and climbed under the blankets. “Come on then,” Merlin said when Arthur sat there doing nothing. A moment later, Arthur and he were both under the blankets. Merlin had his head resting on Arthur’s chest, listening to his echoing heartbeat. Arthur had his hand slowly running up and down Merlin’s back. It was comforting, that they could go from that to doing nothing but enjoying each other’s company.

“What did you get me for Christmas?” Arthur asked into the quiet room.

Merlin pursed his lips, “Isn’t my presence enough?”

He heard Arthur’s laugh rumble in his chest, “You are insufferable.”

“That’s a big word, you feeling sick?” Merlin quipped and Arthur barked out a laugh. “Want me to run and get Gaius? I think you’ve had a spell cast on you.”

“Stop talking about Gaius.”

Merlin kissed his chest, “I’ll stop talking about Gaius if you promise me that you won’t let Gwaine bother you.”

“Gwaine doesn’t bother me.”

“Arthur.”

“…I promise.”

“Good boy.”

“Never call me that again.”

Merlin had no idea how much time passed as they laid there together. For a while, he thought Arthur had fallen asleep what with his breathing slowing. He settled himself down to fall asleep but the rap of Arthur’s fingers against his spine brought him back to the room.

“Merry Christmas, Merlin,” Arthur mumbled into the room.

Merlin planted a final kiss onto Arthur’s chest, “Merry Christmas. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Arthur shifted so he was facing Merlin and tucked Merlin under his chin. His strong arms wrapped around Merlin’s smaller frame, “more than anything.”

When Merlin woke, he was shivering to the bone. He shifted and heard snow crunch beneath his body. He opened his eyes and saw a head of black hair in front of him. It was unruly and it hid a face paler than his own. On top of them both was a thin wool blanket, not nearly thick enough to keep them warm from the elements.

He didn’t dare sit up, he didn’t want to wake her. She deserved to rest.

He cursed himself for dreaming of that night.

It was about that time of the year. He knew that was why his subconscious conjured up that memory. He clenched his fists at his sides and anger flared beneath his skin. After nine months one would think he’d have gotten over… him.

As if its own accord, his hand reached up and grabbed at the red neckerchief he wore. He had tied it in such a way that it hid the golden dragon stitched into the fabric. He didn’t wear it because of him. He wore it because it was cold. He wore it because it was the neckerchief the night he was—it didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t in Camelot anymore and he had more important things to deal with.

Morgana shifted beside him and her eyes flickered open, “It’s cold,” she said.

“It’s Christmas,” he replied.

She sat up, and he did the same.

“Merry Christmas, then,” she grabbed his hand and held it tight. Her hands were as cold as his.

“…Merry Christmas.”

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 | day 10 | day 11 | day 12

#merlin bbc #merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur #christmas #12 days of ship-mas #fluff #romance #slight angst #merlin x arthur #merlin/arthur #la douleur exquise #day 6

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