Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The night in Camelot was cold, one of those in which even the stones of the walls seemed to exhale ice. The wind whistled through the cracks, and Arthur, weary from training and hours of council with his father, was already tucked under the blankets, his body slowly surrendering to sleep.

He heard the discreet creak of the door opening. At first he thought it was just a servant bringing wood for the fireplace, but soon he recognized the tall, gangly silhouette slipping into the room.

“Move over,” Merlin muttered, his voice low, almost a shout in the silence of that room.

Arthur lifted his head, confused, though his eyes remained half-shut. Without arguing, he rolled to the side, dragging the blanket with him. He felt the mattress sink as Merlin slid under the covers, cold as ice.

Arthur frowned and blinked open his sleepy eyes.

“What the hell are you doing, Merlin?”

“Freezing,” Merlin replied bluntly, already tugging the blanket to wrap around himself. “If I go back to my room, I’ll turn into an ice statue before I get there.”

Arthur stared at him in disbelief, messy blond hair falling over his forehead.

“And if a servant comes in and sees you here?”

Merlin shrugged, expression calm as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“They already think we sleep together. Hardly news.”

Arthur opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again… and gave up. He sighed, resigned.

“… Good night, Merlin.”

“Good night, sire.”

Silence settled, broken only by the crackle of the fire in the hearth. Slowly, Arthur realized that Merlin’s body, still chilled, was edging closer and closer. First a knee bumped against his, then an awkwardly placed arm brushed against his waist. Arthur didn’t move. It wasn’t uncomfortable.

Half an hour later, the two were pressed together, sharing the warmth of an embrace.

When morning came, golden sunlight streamed through the window. The door creaked and a maid entered, carrying a basin of fresh water. She stopped mid-step. Her eyes widened at the sight of the prince and the servant lying together, their bodies almost entirely entwined, Arthur’s face squashed against Merlin’s chest. Both breathed heavily, the blankets tangled around them, human warmth visible in the sheen of sweat on their skin.

The maid pressed her lips shut to keep from gasping and hurried out, heart pounding.

Arthur, half-awakened by the noise, grumbled without opening his eyes. His nose was still buried in Merlin’s tunic.

“You think she’ll tell my father?”

Merlin, eyes still closed, chuckled softly.

“Nah. Servants only gossip among themselves. They never tell Uther anything. Besides, everyone likes you better than him. They’d never do anything that could harm you.”

Arthur let out a satisfied “hm” and snuggled in closer. He stayed quiet for a long while before adding, voice hoarse with sleep:

“They’ll probably spread more rumors about you being my bedwarmer.”

Merlin yawned wide like a lazy cat, then smiled mischievously as he pulled back to meet Arthur’s eyes.

“Maybe… don’t you want to make those rumors real, sire?”

Arthur cracked one eye open, laughed through his nose, and shook his head.

“Oh, sure. We’ll fuck one of these days.”

Merlin raised his brows, not the reply he’d expected.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. How about when I get a vacation?” Arthur teased.

“Princes get vacations?”

“No.”

Merlin clutched his chest in mock despair.

“Oh, my prince… you can’t toy with a man’s heart like that.”

Arthur couldn’t hold it back—laughter bubbled out of him. Merlin quickly joined in, and within seconds they were both laughing into the pillows, smothering their own giggles.

When the laughter faded, Arthur sighed.

“Go back to sleep, idiot.”

Merlin only opened his arms in invitation. Arthur didn’t hesitate—he lay against him, resting his head on Merlin’s chest. The familiar scent of Merlin—flowers, damp earth, medicinal herbs—surrounded him. Arthur breathed deeply, eyes finally shutting.

Merlin, now nearly asleep himself, slowly ran his fingers through the prince’s blond hair, letting his hand rest there. No more words were spoken, only the calm rhythm of two breaths meeting.

The court could speculate, the rumors could run wild. But there, in that bed, in that moment, the whole world was reduced to the warmth they gave each other.

Chapter Text

The moon was already high over Camelot. From the window of the royal chamber, the wind carried the scent of burning torches and the distant sounds of the night watch. Inside, Arthur’s room glowed softly with the crackling fire in the hearth.

Arthur, now king, shed his clothes and removed the crown with the relief of one lifting the weight of the world from his shoulders. He let the cloak fall over a chair, kicked off his boots, and threw himself onto the bed with a deep sigh.

“You look like you’ve just fought ten dragons at once.” Merlin’s voice came from the door. “And lost.”

Arthur turned his head, blond hair tousled.

“I was at the Council meeting. Ten dragons would have been easier to deal with than those old fools.”

Merlin chuckled as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. His sleeves were rolled up, smelling of earth and rain—he had likely spent the whole day among the druids. Without ceremony, Merlin undressed and slid under the blankets beside Arthur, shoving him with his hip to claim more space.

“I still don’t understand why you insist on taking up so much room.”

Arthur snorted, eyes still closed.

“I’m the king, remember? I’m entitled to the whole bed.”

“Well, I’m the sorcerer who kept you alive all this time. I think I deserve at least half.” Merlin shifted until he found a comfortable position, his arm brushing against Arthur’s waist.

Arthur cracked one eye open and raised a brow.

“Half? Lately you’ve been taking more than that.”

“I don’t complain when you sprawl,” Merlin retorted, his voice heavy with sleep. “But of course, you’re the king, you can lie across the bed if you want.”

Arthur chuckled softly and slipped an arm around him, pulling him close without resistance. They stayed like that, pressed together, as if their bodies had been made to fit one another.

The next morning, the door creaked open slowly. A servant stepped in carrying the breakfast tray. He froze, choked on his own breath, and stumbled back two steps, eyes wide.

Merlin was practically draped over the king, an arm across his chest, their legs tangled together, both fast asleep. Arthur snored softly, his mouth slightly open.

The servant stood there, hesitant, until Arthur stirred and muttered:

“Shut the door and leave…” without even opening his eyes.

The poor boy scrambled out, red as a strawberry, shutting the door far too quickly.

Arthur opened one eye and found Merlin awake, watching him with a lazy smile.

“You do realize it’s not just rumors anymore, right?” Merlin said. “We’ll have to make our relationship public at some point.”

Arthur yawned, in no hurry to move.

“So what? Let them know. I’m the king. I don’t have to hide from anyone.”

Merlin blinked, surprised at the ease in his tone.

“That’s new.” He sighed contentedly and rested his head on Arthur’s chest.

Sunlight flooded the room in golden warmth, and for a moment Arthur thought this was the true treasure of his life: not the crown, not the throne, but the peace of waking like this, beside the one who had always stayed, even when no one else had chosen to.

Merlin closed his eyes, chuckling softly.

“So… now I can say I share the king’s bed without it being considered a great crime?”

Arthur pretended to think.

“Not a crime. A scandal, maybe. And before, it wasn’t a crime either—just easier for my father to accuse you of enchanting the prince into your bed.”

“Your father was a fool. I never needed magic to get anyone into bed.” Merlin yawned. “Besides, I’ve always liked causing scandals. I think I’ll enjoy telling everyone about us.”

Arthur laughed, kissed the top of his head, shut his eyes again, and sighed. There was no rush. The kingdom could wait a little longer before they got out of bed.