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Eight years had passed since Merlin had arrived in Camelot and he had not regretted his decision to stand beside Arthur, through thick and thin. He took pride as a protector, as someone that the King could trust.
It didn’t mean everything was easy. There were plenty of regrets he had , but he couldn’t regret where it had brought him. Not when everything had been going so well.
Peace had come to Albion, the Saxons had been pushed out, Morgana fleeing to the north as well. Merlin had no doubt she’d come back sometime, but until then, he’d enjoy the peace.
And peace is exactly why he, Arthur, and their closest knights had left Camelot and made their way to the port of Gedref. There, they meet a Captain that Merlin had been in contact with in anticipation for this journey to Eire to meet with Queen Iseult about a trade agreement.
The Captain welcomes them onto his ship and gets them settled into the rough sleeping beds so they could adapt to the waves before they set out.
Percival nearly stumbled just getting down the stairs, and Leon looked positively green after an hour. Arthur seemed to be grinding his teeth with agitation, and Merlin would have loved to help with that, but he was more concerned with how easily Gwaine had knocked himself out and seemed to be sleeping like a baby.
Taking all of this into account, Merlin expected Mordred to be a bumbling fool and borderline useless on the ship, as most of the knights seem to be, except he's not.
The second day, after they set out after getting accustomed to the ship last night, Merlin watched with interest as Mordred walked about barefoot on the deck in rolled up trousers and his shirt half-laced, laughing as he nods something at what the Captain says and scurries up the rigging like he's a bloody squirrel.
And Merlin's eyes widen as he watches, entranced.
Most of the knights did not like the boat, preferring to stay below deck with their heads near a bucket, but Merlin noticed Lancelot and Gwaine also didn't seem to mind the sea air. He himself was fine with it, the magic in the sea was like fresh air after months inside.
Merlin watches as Mordred skids down the rigging and he half expects Mordred to stumble or flail, but there's nothing to it. Just laughter and smiles as he came over to the Captain who had made his way to Merlin, and Mordred sent a wink towards him and then turned to the Captain, rattling off some sort of status report, if Merlin had to guess. It had so much unfamiliar terminology that it had to be ship nonsense that Merlin never needed to know.
It was much later when Merlin, who had been helping by mostly staying out of the way than actually helping, watched as one of the Captain's men started hauling the ropes for the main mast, which the Captain explains will help them turn the ship proper towards Eire, and before Merlin could ask if he could do anything, he watched Mordred make his way to help, his trousers straining around the muscles of his thighs and his shirt sticking to him, damp with sweat and sea-spray, and Merlin can just about see his arms working with the ropes, pulling them with experience. Biceps flexing.
Then, he makes his way over to where Lancelot and Merlin stood, "This is great," Mordred grinned, before shucked off his shirt , "but it's damned hot in the sun." And Merlin can feel his mind giving pause, as Lancelot laughs, grabbing the shirt before Mordred lets it just fall .
Well, there were other shirtless men about, but Merlin was stuck watching smooth skin with unexpected muscle, lean but powerful, and Merlin.exe has stopped.
Merlin's mouth is dry as if all the salt from the sea got onto his tongue, his pulse pounding enough to make his head spin, and he mutters something to Lancelot, though he's not quite sure what it was, before the Knight laughs and helps him down to a chair inside, making Merlin whinge.
Arthur grabs Merlin from Lancelot and gets him sitting down, "Honestly, Merlin. Trust you to get seasick."
"Not seasick, prat."
And Arthur frowns and stares over him, and humms, "Ah."
"What do you mean, 'ah'?" Merlin muttered with petulance.
"Nothing, I just know that face, Mer lin."
"What face?"
"The same face is reflected in my armour when Guinevere does something extraordinary, of course."
Merlin choked on his tongue and lied down in the hammock bed, staving off the embarassment flooding him.
By the goddess, they had two days of this journey. He didn’t know if he’d survive.