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“As discussed last time, we sent a patrol out to survey the eastern border…”
Arthur really was trying to stay focused; his people needed him to be. It didn’t help this was the third meeting of the day and Arthur felt like he hadn’t seen his husband in forever—and not in fact that morning. He mentally bashed himself to remember these were necessary, despite how endless and tiresome they were. His mind didn’t stop from wandering however when his council started up on a topic they had been over at least four time by now. His thoughts mainly—always—went to the same place. A very Merlin shaped place.
Today he didn’t wistfully smile when he thought about his husband as it normally did. He was worried and the frown on his brown deepened.
Lately—as is the last twenty-four hours—Merlin had been… distant.
Yesterday he had gone to bed and had passed out then and there. No goodnight kiss, not helping Arthur out of his clothes, a habit he refused to let their shared manservant do.
This thing was Merlin was making it seem he’d fallen fast asleep, that was what had Arthur’s hackles raise.
Arthur knew how Merlin slept. Forgive him for being an observant, protective—sometimes overly possessive—lover who on occasion watched the love of his life sleep. This was how he knew Merlin had been faking. Merlin doesn’t lie on his side, covers up to his chin, hiding his whole body except his dark hair. If he wasn’t pressed up against Arthur or using Arthur’s chest or arm as a pillow, Merlin normally slept on his front. Arms curled round a pillow or spread out either side of him taking up most of the room.
Merlin had something on his mind and Arthur wanted to make sure his Merlin was all right. He didn’t need to know what it was as Merlin as it happened was quite secretive but Arthur trusted Merlin to tell him at some point or if something was important.
So, when Arthur was finally able to call the meeting finished, was able to escape his council members, and then walked into Merlin changing out his tunic; he was immediately smiling and wanting to be wrap himself around his husband.
However, just as quickly his smiled turned back into a frown and his worry shoot up.
He knew how Merlin slept. He also knew other things about Merlin.
“I know every inch of your body,” Arthur whispered when he stood right behind Merlin, who apparently was so in his head he hadn’t heard him come in. Merlin jumped a little, but relaxed when he looked over his shoulder and saw Arthur. Then Arthur’s words reached Merlin and raised an eyebrow, confused. Merlin was too quiet, by now he’d be spilling about how his day had gone, what spells he’d practiced… Not even a kiss or a touch after a long day of seeing each other, Merlin was quite tactile, so Arthur really knew something was wrong and he now knew why... “so I know for a fact this scar wasn’t there before.” He traced the edge of the scar he was talking about. It wasn’t a bad one, small, looking like it came from a scrap rather than a deliberate stab wound of which Merlin had one right next it he received years back.
Merlin’s whole body tensed under his fingers and words. He moved away from the scar and circled his arms round Merlin’s waist, resting his chin on the other’s shoulder. It wasn’t so body as it had been, good meals and everyone making sure Merlin didn’t run himself ragged had helped fill him out.
“Merlin,” he said in another whisper, more of a sigh, kissing Merlin’s neck and squeezing his arms. “We’ve talked about it.”
Merlin didn’t answer, didn’t move, his shirt hanging from his hands. Arthur manoeuvred them to the end of the bed, he sat down, scooted back and brough Merlin with him until he was sat in Arthur’s lap. He rested a hand on top of Nimueh’s burn scar in the centre of Merlin’s chest, where he could feel his heartbeat. His other arm wrapped around Merlin’s middle, Arthur’s hand on his hip rubbing circles with his thumb. He was fully encasing Merlin as much as he could in this position. Merlin had gone with his obligingly, resigned.
He knew Merlin could easily get away if he felt too trapped; he’d just need to say a simple spell and Arthur would be on the floor or on the opposite side of the room. If Merlin was so inclined, he could transport himself into the woods if he wanted to! He didn’t. He stayed and he hadn’t denied what Arthur had said.
Arthur moved Merlin a little more, so he was sat a fraction sideways, and gently lifted his chin with a single finger when Merlin wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Merls, I’m fine with you not telling me everything, but when I can clearly see you’ve been hurt, I want to know!” There was desperation in his voice. He tightened his hold, not too constricting, and brushed some of Merlin’s fringe to the side.
“It wasn’t an emergency, barely a threat. I delt with it,” Merlin muttered, looking over toward to fireplace.
“I’m sure you did,” he said with a proud huff and a peck to Merlin’s cheek. “But that is not what I’m saying. How am I supposed to take care of you if you don’t tell me when you’re hurt? You spent years hiding it all while you protected me, now want to be there for you as you were and still are for me. Please Merls, let me.”
Merlin’s head suddenly dropped like a string had been cut, his forehead pressing to Arthur’s chest and finally loved to cuddle Arthur back. He shifted so his legs were either side of Arthur’s, straddling him, and hugged him fiercely.
“I’m sorry. I just not used to-” he cut himself off, but Arthur understood. Merlin had habits that were hard to break, this was one; dealing with everything on his own.
“I know. I know.” Arthur rubbed Merlin’s back, pressing their body ever closer and nuzzled his husband’s hair.
Yes, he was going to take care of his stubborn Warlock, and he was going to keep doing it until the end of his days.