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It’s not Merlin’s fault. He would like to point out that if Arthur had simply used his words in the first place—like a grown adult should —there wouldn’t have been any room for misunderstandings or misinterpretations.
Arthur would like to say the same thing he’s been saying for years—that’s Merlin an idiot .
1.
It all started two months ago (not that Merlin would know).
Merlin’s attention had been on the varied descriptions of a creature that had popped up seemingly overnight. As per usual, he and Gaius had deduced that it was magical in origin and would therefore only be taken care of with magical means.
Merlin had been wondering what spell would be the best to deal with the creature in the most humane way as he tucked Arthur into bed and he had missed the main point of whatever Arthur was saying.
He knows Arthur had been prevaricating a lot, and there was much more stammering and cut-off sentences than usual but Arthur’s cheeks had also been flushed a gentle pink so he had just assumed that Arthur had been drinking the wine set out on the table before Merlin showed up.
“—so, will you?” Arthur asks, looking up at Merlin imploringly but for the life of him Merlin can't figure out what the hell Arthur had been trying to say.
“Hm?” Merlin hums, before realizing that Arthur’s expecting an answer for Goddess knows what. “Yeah, of course,” He replies easily, knowing there’s very little that he wouldn’t say yes to when it came to Arthur.
It’s obviously the right answer because Arthur beams, looking relieved and happy and Merlin grins in response because he’s helpless not to.
“Um, well, if that’s all, then I’ll leave you be. Good night, Arthur,” Merlin says, all but running out of the room.
2.
Merlin is not a materialistic person. He doesn’t care for the finer things in life and he’s never been one to be showered in gifts, even on his birthday, so he’s understandably surprised when he wakes up on a random day to an assortment of gifts waiting for him.
“What’s all this?” He asks Gaius when he comes down for breakfast and finds the table covered in gift-wrapped boxes.
“You tell me,” Gaius raises an eyebrow at him. “The king had them delivered for you.”
“Arthur?” Merlin repeats in shock, waiting for Gaius to crack a smile and tell the truth but when the judgemental brow remains lifted, he realizes it isn’t a joke.
Merlin tentatively opens the first box, finding a new coat to replace the one Arthur had taken from him forever ago. Putting it aside, he opens another box to find an assortment of tunics, all soft and in colours he’d never let himself dream of owning. These gifts were already more expensive than Merlin could comprehend and yet there were more.
More scarves, finely crafted belts, new pants, a new pair of boots. Arthur had essentially gotten him a brand new wardrobe, more expensive and of finer quality than Merlin’s, and yet all of the items were in his normal style.
As much as he didn’t want to be, Merlin couldn’t help but feel touched.
“He also had someone send honeyed biscuits,” Gaius revealed a platter of Merlin’s favourite treat. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
“No,” Merlin denies, reaching for one. “I genuinely have no clue why he felt the need to send all this but hey, who am I to complain, right?”
Merlin grins, shoving a biscuit in his mouth. He grabs another two before he makes his exit, heading to the kitchen to retrieve Arthur’s breakfast.
“Let’s have you, lazy daisy!” He coos, waking Arthur up more gently than he usually would.
Arthur groans theatrically as he sits up and Merlin laughs, flashing him the honeyed biscuit he added to Arthur’s breakfast.
“Come on, don’t be like that. Look, I even saved you one.”
Arthur smiles softly, looking adorably sleep rumpled and Merlin’s heart skips a beat looking at him.
“You got my gifts then?”
“I did,” Merlin confirms, pouring some water into a cup for Arthur as he takes his seat for breakfast. “Any particular reason you decided to provide a new wardrobe for me? Was my current one not good enough for his royal highness’ standards?” Merlin jokes.
Arthur rolls his eyes. “Of course not, I just figured you deserve something nice.”
“In that case, could’ve given me a day off,” Merlin shoots back, heading over to Arthur’s wardrobe to pick out his outfit.
“Ungrateful brat,” Arthur calls petulantly but his grin belies his tone.
Merlin shakes his head, sharing a fond look with Arthur, whose cheeks are curiously pink again. Merlin assumes he must have slept with his face smushed into the pillow again and the blood’s only just returning to it.
3.
“Here, let me see,” Arthur demands, taking Merlin’s hand into his own more gently than Merlin would’ve ever expected.
“It’s fine,” Merlin dismisses but lets Arthur fuss over him nonetheless. “It’s just a scratch.”
Arthur huffs, seemingly satisfied that it really is just a mere scratch. “How many times have I told you to be more careful? You’re a nuisance, I swear, one day you’re going to get yourself killed. You could have lost your hand!”
Merlin rolls his eyes. He had tripped and grabbed onto the nearest thing to stop himself from falling, which just so happened to be a sword. Thankfully, it was a minor cut that only bled for a bit, his magic aiding in speeding up the healing process or else it would’ve been as bad as Arthur had been expecting.
“It’s fine,” Merlin repeats, following Arthur out of the armoury.
Arthur glares at him and Merlin tactfully shuts his mouth as they make their way through the corridors, his hand still held in Arthur’s. Merlin would let go, but truthfully he enjoyed the feeling of his hand intertwined with Arthur’s more than he was willing to admit.
“Your majesty,” A voice calls and Merlin and Arthur turn to see one of the councilmen coming up to them.
Merlin sighs internally. Lord Edwin, one of the councilmen from Uther’s time, has to be one of the most annoying people Merlin has ever had the misfortune of meeting.
“How can I help you, Lord Edwin?” Arthur asks courteously even though Merlin knows he hates him just as much. The only reason he hasn’t been dismissed yet is because Arthur likes to keep Uther’s men where he can keep his eyes on them.
Lord Edwin starts to go on about something utterly dull and boring that Merlin zones out, instead focusing on swinging his and Arthur’s hand backward and forward. He wants to see how long he can do it before Arthur realizes they’re holding hands.
He’s on the 45th swing when he realizes Lord Edwin is gone and Arthur’s looking at him with that soft smile that makes Merlin love him even more.
“What?” Merlin asks and Arthur just shakes his head, dropping Merlin’s hand so he can sling an arm around Merlin’s shoulder instead.
“Nothing, Merlin,” He breathes a laugh. “Absolutely nothing at all.”
“Prat,” Merlin grumbles, feeling like he’s missed the joke.
4.
“Huh,” Merlin says, peering out the closed window of Arthur’s chambers. “It’s really coming down.”
Arthur hums, settling down on the rugs laid out in front of the fire, a goblet of wine in his hand. “Come sit with me.”
Merlin does as he’s told for once, helping himself to the wine. He sighs as the heat of the fire warms his chilled bones.
“That feels good,” He murmurs quietly, leaning back against the chairs they’ve abandoned for the floor.
“Are you cold?” Arthur asks just as quietly. When Merlin nods, he opens his arms, gesturing for Merlin to move closer.
Refusing to pass up the chance to be close to Arthur, Merlin shifts until they’re pressed together and Arthur wraps an arm around Merlin’s back, pulling him into his chest.
“Better?” He whispers into Merlin’s hair and Merlin nods, too afraid to speak in fear of breaking the moment.
Arthur begins telling him about the latest letters he’s received from other kingdoms and Merlin listens quietly, breath hitching slightly when Arthur’s fingers make their way into Merlin’s hair and start fiddling with the strands.
“This is the longest you’ve ever had your hair,” Arthur notes and Merlin makes a sound of agreement.
“I like it. I’d’ve never known how thick and curly it really is otherwise.”
Merlin laughs softly and Arthur smiles at the sound, continuing with his ministrations. Merlin’s eyes eventually begin to droop and it isn’t long before he’s lulled to sleep by the timbre of Arthur’s voice.
He wishes it could be like this every night but he knows that this is probably a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, possibly because of the weather and the wine Arthur had consumed.
+1
Merlin places the crown on Arthur’s head, fixing the strands of hair into place. He takes a moment to look at his king and there’s only one word on the tip of his tongue: golden.
The sunlight streaming in from the windows have placed Arthur in a golden light that makes him look magical and Merlin knows that he will never love another the way he loves Arthur. His hands freeze at the sides of Arthur’s head and Arthur’s eyes meet his.
He’s sure the love he feels for him is written all over his face, but for once, he can’t do a thing to hide it. Arthur is ethereal in this light—he’s everything that Merlin has always seen him as.
“My king,” He murmurs and Arthur smiles, leaning down to press his lips against Merlin’s in an earth-shattering kiss.
Merlin returns the kiss with fervour, opening his mouth to Arthur as he grabs onto Arthur’s ceremonial garbs. Arthur’s arm wraps around Merlin’s waist, pulling him flush against him, his other hand going to Merlin’s hair.
“I love you,” Arthur whispers against Merlin’s lips when they finally pull apart and suddenly everything starts to add up in Merlin’s head.
“Oh,” Merlin breathes, realizing that Arthur had probably been asking to court him that first night when he hadn’t been paying attention. That’s why he had gotten all those gifts not long after, and why Arthur had held his hand in the open for everyone to see—including Lord Edwin. That’s why Arthur had cuddled him and played with his hair and why he had awoken the next morning in Arthur’s bed after falling asleep in his lap. “You love me.”
Arthur looks at him strangely, but now that Merlin’s looking, the affection and fondness is still there—all directed at Merlin.
Merlin cups Arthur’s face in his hands, kissing him hard again.
Arthur laughs against his lips. “Did you think I didn’t?”
“I–I didn’t dare to dream,” Merlin confesses and Arthur hugs him close, tucking his face into Merlin’s neck and pressing a kiss to his clavicle as Merlin’s heart races in his chest.
“I do,” He murmurs softly. “I love you more than anyone could ever fathom.”
“Me too,” Merlin returns. “You know that, don’t you? That I love you, more than I ever thought it possible?”
Arthur pulls back, tucking an errant curl behind Merlin’s ear. “Of course I do, how could I not?”
Merlin smiles in relief, fixing the crown that had gone askew on Arthur’s head when there’s a knock on the door.
“We can finish this later. You have duties to attend to, my king.”
“Of course, my love.”