Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1

The sound of Merlin’s stomach growling was loud enough to wake the entire castle as he vaulted up the stairs leading to Arthur’s chambers. The food on the platter in front of him swayed dangerously in his hands. Merlin had been late waking up that morning due to a very unfortunate visit from Kilgarrah the past night. Like always, his talks with the dragon had left him more confused than ever. Lost in thought, Merlin slid down the hallway, almost running into the guards who stood watch outside of Arthur's room.

“Sorry sorry!” Merlin yelled at the guards as he passed, skidding to a stop in front of Arthur’s doorway. Merlin sighed as he readied the plate in front of him and pushed open the large wooden doors.

“Rise and shine!” Merlin shouted cheerily, waking the prince from his slumber. Merlin set the plate down on Arthur’s dining table and wasted no time yanking open the curtains, letting sunlight stream into the room.

“Why are you so loud?” Arthur groaned into his pillow.

“Because I’m so excited to work for such a wonderfully delightful prince, now get up.”

“No.”

At that, Merlin looked up from the papers he had been organizing on Arthur’s desk.

“No?”

“Nope,” Arthur said indignantly as he pulled his covers up and over his head. A futile attempt of avoidance.

“Come on sire we don’t have time for this.” Merlin pleaded as he walked over to the side of the bed, “You have a meeting with the King this morning and you know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting”.

Arthur remained silent.

“Fine.” Merlin sighed and grabbed hold of the blanket, pulling it and Arthur clean off the bed.

“Merlin!” Arthur screeched as he fell onto the cold stone floor, grappling with Merlin for his blanket.

“Merlin this is my blanket and as your prince I demand you give it back to me at once!” Arthur shouted, delivering a good kick to Merlin’s ribs.

“I can’t return it if the prince is being a royal prat!” Merlin replied as he grabbed a hold of Arthur’s hair and pulled.

“Let me go!”

“Not until you do!”

“You are such an idiot!”

“Clotpole!”

“All right that’s it!” Arthur yelled, flipping Merlin over onto his back and finally getting back control of his blanket. Arthur’s thighs bracketed Merlin’s hips, keeping him in place as he tried to squirm out of Arthur’s hold. Funnily enough, Arthur didn’t really care about the blanket in his hands as he stared down at his servant's face. Arthur could feel how heavily Merlin was breathing beneath him, with each rise and fall of his chest, his neckerchief became just the tiniest bit undone, exposing the long expanse of his neck underneath. The sight of Merlin’s hair left Arthur even more enthralled. His dark curls were sticking out in hundreds of different directions, some strands stuck to his face with sweat. Arthur had half a mind to run his hand through it or at least try and make it look more presentable. Hell, if Arthur didn’t know any better, Merlin kind of looked like he had just been well and properly-

“Arthur?”

“What?” Arthur said, jolted from his thoughts.

Merlin rolled his eyes with a sigh, “I said at least you finally got out of bed you overdramatic prick.”

Whatever thoughts Arthur had been having, swiftly left his mind and were replaced by a violent rage. Arthur smothered Merlin with the blanket.

2

The first thing Merlin noticed when he entered Arthur’s chambers that morning was the mountain of handkerchiefs scattered around Arthur’s bed. The second thing he noticed was that Arthur looked terrible; his face was pale and the bags under his eyes were a deep gray.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked cautiously approaching the bed.

When Arthur didn’t respond Merlin reached out a hand to check his temperature. At the touch of Merlin’s hand on his forehead, Arthur slowly blinked awake.

“Merlin…what are you doing?” Arthur’s voice was rough and strained as if it hurt to speak.

“Checking your temperature.”

“Your hand is cold,” Arthur whined, flinching away from Merlin’s touch.

“No, it’s not, you just have a fever.” Merlin said, brushing the sweat-soaked strands of hair from Arthur’s forehead.

“I do not. You just have the hands of an old maid.”

“Oh really.”

Arthur crossed his arms and attempted to look as commanding as possible.

“These are just minor cold symptoms that my healthy body is exhibiting.”

Which of course would have been more convincing if he hadn’t erupted into a fit of coughs as soon as he finished his sentence.

“Oh alright, and I’m the most powerful wizard in all of the lands.” Merlin scoffed rolling his eyes as he begrudgingly picked up the used handkerchiefs piled around Arthur.

“Merlin if you’re going to be such an idiot this early in the morning at least go bother someone else.”

“If you would like someone more helpful I can always go get George, I’m sure he would be more than happy to assist you, Sire.” Merlin teased, fetching extra blankets from Arthur’s closet.

“No.” Arthur groaned in annoyance, pulling his blankets more tightly around himself.

“What was that Sire?” Merlin piled the extra blankets onto Arthur before checking the prince’s temperature once again.

“No.”

“No? I can assure you, Sire, George would be delighted to help you in any way.” Merlin forced Arthur into a sitting position as he fluffed up the pillows on the bed, stacking them so Arthur would have less trouble breathing.

“No, I meant-”

“I doubt George would ever tire of his duties,” Merlin said thoughtfully as Arthur lowered himself back onto his bed. “I can go fetch him now if you would like.” Merlin shrugged, stepping away from Arthur and towards the door.

“Merlin.” Arthur warned watching his manservant walk farther away.

Merlin opened the double doors, looking around as if he was trying to find someone.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, “Get back here this once!”

Merlin turned back to the prince with a smile on his lips, “Relax Arthur, I am going to go get some medicine for your ‘cold symptoms’ from Gaius.” The manservant chuckled as he watched Arthur’s face grow red with anger.

“Try not to think of George too much while I’m gone.” He said with a wink before racing out of the room, barely dodging a pillow Arthur had launched at him.

When Merlin returned with the medicine, Arthur had fallen back asleep. Merlin closed the door gently before approaching the bed. Arthur’s chest rose and fell unsteadily, it was clear he was taking great pains to breathe. He watched as Arthur’s body shook with a nonexistent chill, his fever seemed to have gotten worse. Merlin set down the medicine on the bedside table, careful to not make a sound and wake Arthur. He reached a hand over Arthur and checked once again that the prince’s eyes were screwed shut. Once he was sure Arthur was asleep, he gingerly placed his hand on the other man’s chest and whispered a healing spell, allowing his magic to seep into Arthur’s skin. Almost immediately, Arthur’s breathing returned to normal and his shaking subsided. Even though he had finished the spell, Merlin couldn’t bring himself to remove his hand from Arthur’s chest. His hand lingered, soaking up the feeling of Arthur breathing beneath his fingertips, the warmth of his body. It was only once Arthur eventually shifted in his sleep did Merlin step back, embarrassment flooding his cheeks as left the room as quietly as he had come.

Merlin tried to return to the rest of his duties he really did. But how was he expected to concentrate on collecting herbs for Gaius or mucking out the stables, when all of his thoughts were consumed by the feeling of Arthur safe, close, and just out of reach.

Chapter Text

3

Once Arthur recovered from his sickness, he dived back into his duties. Sometimes staying up all night to read over recent grain reports, work on knight strategy planning, and approve marriage and land licenses. On most nights he would make it back to his bed, but on the nights he didn’t, it was quite the sight to see.

That morning, when Merlin walked into Arthur’s chambers, Merlin had to fight down a fit of laughter. Arthur made quite the picture; draped over his dining table, with his face down in last night’s bowl of soup. Now normally, Merlin wouldn’t dare interrupt the prince’s beauty sleep but he knew there was no avoiding the growing list of duties the prince had to perform that day. Creeping slowly to the table, Merlin lightly set down the prince’s breakfast, wincing as a fork rattled on the tray. He glanced up at the prince, but the prince showed no signs of waking, still snoring lightly into the soup. Letting out a sigh Merlin moved in front of Arthur and raised his hands bringing them loudly down onto the table. Arthur woke with a jolt, coughing and spluttering into the soup. His hands immediately reached out, attempting to grab whatever was closest. He only succeeds in throwing the soup about, covering himself and the floor, while he desperately tries to get up.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” Merlin said looking down at the soup-stained prince.

Groggily the prince blinked his eyes and tried to regain whatever princely authority he had left, “You didn’t scare me I was asleep.”

Merlin pressed his lips together in an attempt to stifle his laugh. The prince looked like he had just taken a visit to the stocks. Soup dripped down his face and his hair stuck up on the side of his head. It was hard for Merlin to take Arthur seriously in normal situations, but this was testing his limits.

“Why do you have a stupid smile on your face?” Arthur asked, breaking Merlin out of his comedic daze.

“It’s nothing, why were you sleeping with your head on the table?”

“I fell asleep while I was reading.”

Merlin looked around the table and only noticed a stack of blank parchment scattered off to the side. “What were you reading?”

After a beat of silence, Arthur straightened up in his chair and leveled Merlin with (what he thought was) his most regal glare. “I am the Prince of Camelot and do not have to answer to the likes of you.”

Despite Arthur’s attempt at authority, Merlin balked at his response. “Oh you’re in a good mood you’ve obviously got out on the wrong side of the table.” Merlin wheezed at Arthur’s blank stare. “The wrong side of the bed…but you slept on the table.” He gestured at the table in front of him succumbing to a fit of laughter.

Arthur waited for the laughing to subside before responding to his clotpole of a servant, “That’s extremely clever and funny Merlin, there really are no limits to your wit. Now will you please just draw me a bath and leave me to my breakfast.”

Merlin’s smile faded and he nodded, “Right.” He turned away from the prince and left the room.

As Merlin lugged bucket after bucket of scalding hot water up the castle's endless stairs, he wished more than ever that Arthur knew of his powers. If that were the case, he wouldn’t even need to leave the room, just a quick spell, and the tub would be filled. But no, Merlin sighed to himself, the King just had to be such a prejudiced old twat.

By the time Merlin dumped the last bucket of water in the tub, Arthur had finished his meal and was attempting to pull his soup-sodden shirt over his head.

Merlin set the bucket down and watched the prince struggle for a moment. “Maybe this will help you learn to appreciate my help more.” He said smiling as the prince failed yet again to pull his arms out of his sleeves.

“Just shut up and get over here Merlin.” Arthur grumbled into his shirt prison.

Merlin chuckled as he walked over to help, “Wow Sire, I would hate to know what you say to the girls who come in here.” He grabbed the hem of Arthur’s shirt and pulled, freeing Arthur.

As Merlin worked on unbuckling Arthur’s belt, Arthur mumbled above him.

“What was that?” Merlin said glancing up at the prince, who was looking away at some corner of his room, clearly trying to avoid any type of eye contact.

The prince cleared his throat, “Not many girls.”

At first, Arthur thought Merlin didn’t hear him. The servant carefully guided him out of his breeches and picked up the stained laundry before straightening up and meeting Arthur’s hesitant eyes.

“Well, then they’re certainly missing out,” Merlin said, flashing Arthur a smile.

Arthur just stared dumbfounded, he was at a loss for words, but then again he always seemed to be when he was around Merlin. Arthur studied Merlin’s face; the smile that still lingered, spreading across his cheeks, his hair that always seemed to have a mind of its own, and his eyes. Arthur would do anything just to keep those eyes on him for a second longer.

“Right then,” Merlin bundled the laundry up tighter in his arms and moved to clear the table, “Water’s getting cold Sire”

Merlin’s voice knocked Arthur out of his stupor, making him quickly aware that he was standing naked in the middle of his room, covered in stew. As Merlin moved about the room, Arthur wordlessly got into the tub, lowering his head under the water and praying that the day ahead would pass quickly.