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“ ‘M cold” Merlin said miserably as he, snivelling and shivering, huddled as close as he could to the pathetically small fire. The only wood that they’d managed to gather in the rapidly falling darkness was wet and the fire emitted more smoke than warmth.
“Then maybe you should do something useful instead of sitting on your little bottom complaining then, Merlin” Arthur snarled. “If you’d go looking for something to eat then you’d get warm in no time.”
“We would already have something to eat if you hadn’t taken twice your share of the rations I packed, you clotpole” Merlin murmured but nonetheless he pushed himself to his feet and headed off. Maybe, if he was lucky, there were still some berries to find, or some of the edible leaves that Gaius had taught him to recognize.
Luck was not on his side and when Merlin returned to the camp, without any food, Arthur had already put their bed rolls out in the tent and removed his chain mail.
“I can’t say I’m surprised to see you come back empty-handed” Arthur said upon seeing his manservant and Merlin, too cold and too tired to retaliate, only ducked into the tent and got to bed. Arthur soon followed him and they both laid in silence for a while. Then Merlin shifted restlessly, and then again and again.
“Be still, will you?” Arthur asked him, miffed and cranky because of the cold and the miserable situation they were in. “I can’t sleep for the rattling of your bones.”
“Sh-shut up, sire” Merlin answered, teeth clattering.
“Don’t be such a girl, Merlin, it’s not that cold” Arthur scoffed, not willing to admit that it was, in fact, rather cold. If it hadn’t been for his thick winter cloak that he’d placed on top of his bedroll his teeth would probably have clattered as well. Merlin snorted and rolled over, turning his back at Arthur.
The more he thought about it, the more Arthur realized that if he, dressed in the warmest clothes that Camelot’s tailors could provide, was cold then his manservant most certainly was suffering in the chilly tent. He’d just been too annoyed with their situation to really consider how it affected Merlin. Merlin, his annoyingly stubborn manservant that couldn’t follow a simple order to save his life but was probably more loyal than any of Camelot’s knights. Merlin who always talked back like the cheeky country boy he was but still always was there for Arthur. Merlin, who would fall over his own feet and dropped plates of food by the dozen, but somehow undressed Arthur with swift and sure fingers. Merlin, with his blue eyes and lovely smile and that appallingly ugly neckerchief. Merlin, his Merlin.
Arthur groaned when he suddenly felt like the jerkiest of jerks. Or the clotpoliest of clotpoles, as Merlin no doubt would say, the endearing idiot.
“Merlin?” he asked tentatively. He got no answer and he thought that maybe the manservant had fallen asleep but it wasn’t likely and, in any case, Merlin was a light sleeper and would have heard him anyway.
“Merlin?” he tried again and got a quiet whimper in return. Arthur shuffled over and put a hand to Merlin’s shoulder, feeling alarmed when he felt how cold he was.
“Are you all right?” he asked and was even more worried when Merlin didn’t answer him. “Right then” he muttered to himself and put an arm around Merlin’s waist, pulled the manservant flush against his chest and tucked all blankets and cloaks available as close around them both as possible. At first Merlin was stiff and shivered wildly but Arthur put his arms around him to keep him in place and slowly Merlin’s muscles relaxed from the warmth and he sank into a peaceful sleep. Arthur soon followed him.
The next morning Arthur felt as if sharing a bed with a very squirmy and uncooperative polecat and he tightened his hold as he sluggishly tried to wake up.
“Merlin” he growled. “Would it kill you to be still?”
“Arthur?” Merlin asked confusedly, but thankfully he stopped moving around. “What am I doing in your bed?”
“Getting rescued from freezing to death, you idiot” Arthur huffed in response, partly miffed, partly fondly. “You should have told me that you were cold.”
“I did, you prat” Merlin murmured sleepily, too warm and too content in Arthur’s arms to bother to put some real emotion behind the words.
“Well then, next time you’ll just have to be clearer, Merlin.”
“Oh, I’ll be clear about it, don’t you worry you clotpole.”