Chapter Text
Merlin used to love thunderstorms.
He would use the storm as an excuse to stay inside all day, using his time to read a book or even just lay around.
Back in Ealdor he could hardly be expected to work in the fields while the sky was hammering him with rain. As such, thunderstorms were a happy reminder of times in his hut with his mother, eating stew and idly chatting by the fire.
Even thunderstorms in Camelot brought their fair share of good. When it was pouring Arthur had no choice but to cancel whatever training or hunting trip Merlin was supposed to help with, instead giving him only a few jobs along with bringing him his meals.
Merlin would finish his jobs quickly, head back to Gaius’ chambers, and pour over his magic book, only leaving his room for Arthur’s lunch and dinner.
He loved thunderstorms.
That was until he killed Nimueh.
Merlin didn’t know why the storms affected him so much after that. Of course he knew it was somehow about Nimueh, but why did her life weigh on his subconscious more than all the others?
Merlin had killed plenty of sorcerers and bandits alike in the name of protecting Arthur. Merlin felt guilty about them, sure, but the knowledge that he was protecting Arthur was enough to soothe his guilt. He didn’t feel any more guilt over Nimueh than any of the other lives he’d taken. So why was it that her death still ate away at him whenever he saw lightning and heard thunder?
And why did it have to be lightning? It could have been some other element that had decided to manifest itself within Merlin’s grasp. It could have been wind or fire, though those may have been worse seeing as they appear much more often in Merlin’s day to day life. But, it had been lighting that Merlin used to kill the used-to-be high priestess.
As such, Merlin’s beloved thunderstorms now came accompanied with unwarranted frustration and anxiety. No longer could he relax all day and read when the sky became cloudy and thunder roared. Any time he tried to relax, to just sit down , his knee would begin to bounce and the long-since scarred over burn on his chest would begin to itch.
The first thunderstorm after Nimueh, Merlin had nearly torn his chest to shreds. Only after Gaius had noticed Merlin’s incessant scratching came accompanied with a few thin streaks of blood across his tunic had Merlin even realized what he was doing. The way Gaius looked at Merlin with unconcealed concern as he applied a salve and bandages to his scuffed chest made him even more antsy.
So, he decided the best thing he could do was keep himself distracted with chores.
Now, every thunderstorm Merlin would stack task after task on his tray, from the moment he awoke to the moment he laid down and fell asleep. Arthur’s armor was never brighter and his sword never sharper than after a thunderstorm. But, even though he could placate his urge to scratch at his scar, keeping busy didn’t help him with his mood. Even if Merlin himself hadn’t noticed, all the servants knew the unspoken rule:
Don’t bother Merlin when there’s a storm.
Usually the servants could always rely on Merlin if they needed a bit of extra help, and usually Merlin was happy to help out in the kitchen or give a hand in carrying items too and fro. But during those first few storms after Nimueh, word spread fast that Merlin was not his normal cheery self when the weather grew bad.
May the triple goddess bless the poor serving girl who interrupted Merlin’s sword sharpening to ask for help reaching something on a high shelf. No one ever guessed his glares could be more threatening than the sword in his hands.
So, with all this in mind, you can imagine how Merlin felt when he woke up for the third day in a row to a dark cloudy sky and thunder rumbling in the distance.
oooOooo
Merlin was going to have to have a word with Mother Nature.
Three days in a row… he thought as he stared at his ceiling, listening to the distant rumbling of thunder. As he listened to the rain pattering on his window, his hand mindlessly lifted and scratched his chest before there was a knock on his bedroom’s door.
He tore his hand away from his chest as Gaius opened the door.
“You’d better get up soon if you want to bring Prince Arthur his breakfast.” He said, eyeing Merlin’s thrown down arm suspiciously, a twinge of worry in his eyes. “I have breakfast ready, so join me.”
Gaius turned to leave and shut the door behind him as Merlin got out of bed. He changed out of his night clothes and threw on his tunic and trousers, but not before he could get in a good scratch at his burn scar. As much as Merlin tried to distract himself to keep from scratching, it was obvious from the fresh red lines across his chest that he had been scratching the past two days, perhaps even in his sleep. Merlin turned for the door, deciding against wearing his red neckerchief as it was far too humid from all the rain.
As he stepped down the few steps into the main room of the physician’s quarters, he saw his bowl of porridge set across the table from Gaius’ and sat down to eat. While he ate, his mind wandered, trying to come up with some jobs to do today. After two days of doing chores inside the list of things he could do was becoming rather short.
He was roused from his wandering thoughts by Gaius saying his name.
“Merlin,” he said, tone flat.
“Hm?” Merlin responded through a spoonful of porridge.
“You’re scratching.”
Merlin looked down to where his hand had indeed been clawing at his chest.
“Right.” He replied gruffly.
They finished their porridge in silence but now Merlin sat aware of his hand aching to reach up to his chest to itch away at his scar and Gaius kept an eye on the young warlock to assure that he didn’t give into the temptation.
“I’d better be off then,” said Merlin as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. Gaius gave him a nod before he walked out, heading for the kitchens.
oooOooo
“Up and attem’!” Merlin said in the most cheerful tone he could manage as he opened up the curtains. It didn’t have quite the intended effect as there was barely any sun to let in with the clouds so thick in the sky.
Arthur groaned from his bed, rolling over so he was laying on his stomach, face in his pillow.
“Shut up,” he mumbled, voice muffled by the pillows.
Merlin, not entertained, rolled Arthur back over on the bed saying, “Come on. I brought your breakfast, so get up and eat it while I get your clothes ready.”
Arthur groaned again but shifted to sit up in his bed, rubbing his eyes.
“Raining again?” He said, taking in the darkness of the room.
“Obviously.”
Arthur must have been too tired to hear the irritation in Merlin’s tone as he only gave a thoughtless “hm” as reply. Merlin heard Arthur get up and move over to the table as he chose a red tunic from his wardrobe.
He took the clothes he’d chosen and placed them on the bed before heading over to stand next to Arthur. He filled his goblet with the pitcher of water he had brought up as the prince picked up his fork to eat.
“There’s nothing sweet.” Arthur stated, a small scowl on his face.
Merlin looked at him questioningly as Arthur turned to look him in the eye.
“ Why is there nothing sweet?”
Merlin could tell he was beginning to glare but he tried to shut it down with a joke.
“Wouldn’t want you getting fat while you’re not out training everyday.”
Arthur only scowled at him harder.
Merlin could feel the annoyance showing on his face as he spat out a retort.
“Look, I don't decide what the kitchens put on your plate! I’ll make sure there’s something sweet for you for lunch, okay ?”
“Fine .”
They sat there in silence for a while before Arthur decided to try at a conversation.
“No neckerchief today?” He asked.
“Too humid.”
The reply was flat and Arthur, as oblivious as he may be at times, seemed to notice Merlin’s foul mood so decided against another attempt at conversing. That was, until a particularly bright flash of lighting struck followed by a long rolling of thunder that had Merlin’s foot tapping wildly and his hand lightly clawing his chest.
Arthur looked at him with, what Merlin could only place as, worry in his eye for a second before he coughed and it disappeared and made way for a more neutral stare as Arthur spoke.
“Do storms by chance make you anxious?” He pondered, looking at Merlin’s foot and his hand on his chest.
“Nothing like that,” Merlin responded, though his case was made less believable as another flash of lighting lit up the room and his scratching quickened.
“Then what’s going on with you?” Arthur said, worry back on his face. “You were doing this yesterday and the day before too. The scratching , I mean…”
“Ah,” Merlin muttered, dropping his hand back to his side and tapping his leg with his fingers instead. “It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with, so don’t worry about it.”
Arthur looked at Merlin’s fingers drumming away on his thighs before sighing and saying, “Maybe you should take the day off, I mean there’s not mu-“
He was cut off quickly by Merlin’s slightly panicked voice.
“No! Uh, no I mean. That won’t be necessary. I’m perfectly capable of doing my jobs! Whatever chain mail or swords or daggers need polishing, I’ve got it covered! Just… uh… I don’t need the day off!”
Arthur looked at him skeptically as he pondered what to do. If he actually wants to do his job, there must be something wrong, he thought to himself. He figured if it was the storm making Merlin all… not Merliny, then maybe he just didn’t want to be alone, so he decided to let Merlin work.
But, even though he’d already decided, and Arthur knew he shouldn’t pry, he wanted to confirm his suspicion.
“I have a council meeting to attend soon, so how about you clean my floors while I’m there? Then you can go down to the armory and polish my armor and… sharpen my sword I suppose.”
He looked at Merlin to see how he would react to jobs that guaranteed he would be by himself, but all he saw was relief. So it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be alone… Arthur notes.
Merlin nodded and Arthur went back to eating his breakfast while the man next to him’s foot tapping continued. When Arthur finished his breakfast Merlin quickly got him ready for his council meeting.
Arthur made his way out of his chamber door towards the hall, still pondering Merlin’s strange behavior.