Chapter Text
Merlin tugged uncomfortably at the tunic he'd put on that morning, frowning deeply.
“Why do we have to wear these?” He whined, rolling his shoulders back and cringing as they rubbed against the fabric. “They’re uncomfortable and unnecessary and really, it’s only shameful to go undressed if no one else does it!”
Gaius just stared at him, bored, from where he sat at his worktable. “Are you having a day, Merlin?”
Merlin huffed, narrowing his eyes at his guardian before continuing as if he hadn’t spoken. “What does Arthur care if I’m dressed, anyway? He’s just going to undress me again; it just feels counterproductive.”
Gaius sighed a loud, long-suffering sigh.
“How you have been here for ten years and still fail to learn basic etiquette is beyond me,” he grumbled, before shaking his head and speaking up, “I still don’t understand why you’ve not moved into the King’s chambers, yet.”
“Arthur wants to wait until after the wedding,” Merlin explained, rolling his eyes, “as if I don’t spend most nights in his bed, anyway.”
“Merlin, go see your betrothed,” Gaius told him, voice strained.
Merlin perked up at the idea of seeing Arthur, the reminder of what day it was immediately lifting his mood. Giving Gaius a quick goodbye, Merlin hurried out and made his way to Arthur’s chambers.
He knew Arthur wouldn’t be awake yet, but that was just what Merlin wanted. When he arrived outside his chambers, the guards posted stood to attention. Merlin suppressed an eye roll, knowing they had just been dozing off.
“The King’s asleep,” the guard to the left—Bedivere, Merlin recognized—informed him.
“I’m aware,” Merlin replied with a cheeky grin, “all part of my plan.”
The knight chuckled softly, “Ah, I see. Well, by all means…” He motioned to the door.
Merlin’s grin widened, and he slowly pushed open the door before slipping inside. He did his best to be as silent as possible for once. The room was dark, but in that bright, morning way. He looked around as he made his way across Arthur’s chambers, tiptoeing to his bed.
Arthur let out a small groaning noise, rolling over in his bed as Merlin approached, and the selkie froze. He waited, eyes wide and not daring to move. Then, Arthur stilled and fell quiet again.
Merlin let out a quiet breath of relief, shoulders slumping. He cringed as the fabric of his shirt moved against his skin.
Okay, maybe he was having a day.
Shaking his head, Merlin pushed off the irritation and stepped closer to the bed. Arthur laid under the duvet, his eyes shut and face the picture of peace. Merlin loved him so much…
After taking a moment to appreciate the sight of beauty before him, Merlin hummed and slowly climbed onto the bed. He paused with each shift or sigh from Arthur, shuffling at snail’s pace towards the King. Once he was kneeling directly next to Arthur on the bed, he took a breath, staring down at him with a lovestruck grin.
Then, he gently shifted Arthur, so he was on his back and swung a leg over him, successfully straddling his waist. Arthur let out a sleepy, confused noise, his brows furrowing but his eyes not opening.
Merlin’s grin widened and he leaned down, hands splayed on Arthur’s chest to keep his balance. Gently, he bumped their noses together before resting his forehead against Arthur’s. “Guess what today is,” he murmured, knowing Arthur was awake despite his refusal to open his eyes.
Arthur only groaned, a pout pulling at his lips. “Merlin…”
“Arthur!” Merlin laughed softly, positively giddy. “Guess what today is.”
“It’s too early,” Arthur whined, peeking open one eye.
Merlin just rolled his eyes, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to his sleepy betrothed’s lips as firm hands came to rest on his hips.
“It’s our wedding day,” Merlin whispered as he parted from Arthur.
Arthur’s eyes fluttered open at the words, a smile stretching across his face. “That’s today?” He teased, suddenly a lot more awake than before.
“Yes, you prat!” Merlin laughed, sitting up—his hands still on Arthur’s chest.
“Mm, y’know, this is a view I could get used to,” Arthur mused, tilting his head as he gently squeezed Merlin’s hips.
Merlin scoffed softly. “Oh, please, we both know it’s you who’s up here,” he said, very matter-of-factly, rolling his shoulders again.
Arthur let out a small, strangled noise, his face reddening, before he seemed to notice the discomfort on Merlin’s face and sobered. “Merlin, are you having a day?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Merlin whined, still shifting around his shoulders uncomfortably. Then, letting them sag, he let out a loud sigh. “Yes…”
“What’s wrong, love?” Arthur asked, voice that soft tone Merlin grew so accustomed to hearing in the privacy of their bed. “It’s our wedding day.”
“I know!” Merlin groaned, frowning, “and I’m excited! But I—” He cut himself off abruptly, sighing as he looked away.
“I’m nervous.”
“What? Why?” Arthur’s brows knitted together in a frown, and he let his thumbs rub Merlin’s clothed hipbone gently. “If you’re worried about something going wrong—”
“Don’t say that!” Merlin exclaimed, eyes wide, “don’t even think that—you’re going to make it happen!”
“Merlin!” Arthur chuckled, before realizing he was serious. He let out a sigh and let his hands move to the hem of Merlin’s shirt. “Arms up.”
Merlin blinked a few times and lifted his arms up, confused. His heart stuttered when Arthur carefully lifted up his tunic and pulled it off of him, tossing it aside. Merlin dropped his arms once the item was discarded and rolled his shoulders—relieved to not find fabric rubbing against them.
“Better?” Arthur asked.
He nodded slowly, a tentative smile growing on his face. Gods, he loved Arthur.
“Good… Now, what’s wrong?” Arthur pressed, his hands falling back down to Merlin’s hips.
Merlin hesitated. He was so excited and thrilled to be marrying Arthur. After so many years together, the day was finally here. He just couldn’t help the unease sinking in his gut, though, at the thought of what came next.
“It’s not the wedding,” he said softly, “it’s… Well, after you marry a King, you get crowned his consort and made royalty.”
“Mhm, and I’ve already dealt with the laws concerning that—magic is free, and you’ll be a King, rather than a Prince, alongside me,” Arthur assured him. “Believe me, that last one took surprisingly more fight than the magic ban repeal did. Council did not want a man born out of royalty to be named King. I convinced them, though, and they do have a soft spot for you—everyone does.”
“That’s just it, though, Arthur,” Merlin sighed, shaking his head. “They don’t want me as a peasant named King—what on earth will they do when they inevitably find out I’m a selkie.”
Arthur went quiet, frowning at the point. Merlin looked away, anxious.
“They’ll think I enchanted you, or some wild thing… They’ll all think I’m some lying—”
“Merlin!” Arthur cut him off quickly. Merlin snapped his mouth shut, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. “Merlin, I thought you knew.”
Merlin paused. Then, he slowly looked back to Arthur, wary and suspicious. “…Knew what?”
“Everyone already knows you’re a selkie,” Arthur sighed, and Merlin felt his heart stop.
“What?”
“You aren’t exactly discreet, fy annwyl, and no one really minds! Everyone is still so fond of you,” Arthur tried to lighten the blow, but the damage was done.
Merlin could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, burning. “Oh, my gods,” he whispered, covering his face with his hands, “that’s so embarrassing!”
“No! No, really, most of them found it endearing, really!” Arthur insisted.
Merlin just whined into his hands. Really, he was thrilled he wouldn’t have to bother with the whole deal of everyone finding out and hating him, but gods he was mortified. He couldn’t believe he’d thought he was being discreet, and everyone knew.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked finally, dropping his hands. His face was red all the way up to his ears, and he frowned at the way Arthur smiled up at him.
“It never came up—never really knew how to say, oh hey, by the way, everyone knows you’re a selkie,” Arthur snorted before averting his gaze, a guilty look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I should have told you.”
Merlin chewed his bottom lip, the embarrassment slowly draining at the realization Arthur felt genuinely bad for not telling him sooner. He sighed softly and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his nose.
“It’s okay,” he promised, and he meant it. “At least we don’t have to worry about the big reveal now, right?”
Arthur smiled slightly at his words and nodded. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to Merlin’s lips. “That’s right,” he hummed when he pulled back and rested against his pillows again. “Now, we can just get married.”
Merlin perked up at the words, already feeling better. He was still nervous about being a king, but now, well. Now he had one less thing to worry about. Besides, anything was worth it if it meant he got to spend the rest of his days at Arthur’s side.
“We’re getting married today…” he breathed.
Arthur chuckled softly, and Merlin pressed their foreheads together. The giddiness from before slowly started to resurface, and he couldn’t help but repeat himself, grin spreading across his face. “We’re getting married today!”
“As soon as the evening bell rings,” Arthur confirmed, “but we have a lot of setting up and getting ready to do before then.”
Merlin groaned at the reminder. He wouldn’t mind just having the wedding there and then, in the comfort of what was soon to be their chambers, away from crowds. He knew it was an impossible wish, though, marrying royalty.
“I’m going to have to wear those scratchy formal ceremonial clothes, aren’t I?” Merlin frowned, only slightly pouting. When Arthur hummed in confirmation, Merlin groaned again, shifting to press his face into Arthur’s neck.
“Hey…” Arthur trailed a hand from Merlin’s hip to his back, tracing invisible pictures on his skin.
“What?” Merlin asked, voice muffled by Arthur’s neck, drawing out the word. Arthur chuckled softly at his betrothed’s pouting.
“We have some time before we’re expected to help with preparations…” he began, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “how about we go for a quick swim first?”
And really, when he says something like that, Merlin thought, he shouldn’t be surprised by the speed at which Merlin dragged him out of his chambers—uncaring of their improper apparel (or lack thereof, in Merlin’s case).
After all, what did it matter?
They were the Kings.