Work Text:
The royal chamber was silent, lit only by the soft afternoon light filtering through the curtains. Arthur was lying in bed, wrapped in the blankets like a cocoon, his eyes closed and his breathing slow and deep.
Merlin entered with a bucket of water, intending to use it to wake the prince for another afternoon of tedious duties. But upon seeing the scene, he stopped.
Arthur looked so... peaceful. His face relaxed, his hands loose on the pillow, his entire body curled up in a way that made him look almost too young.
Merlin set the bucket of water on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Arthur," he called, his voice low. "Arthur, wake up."
Arthur grunted, turning to the other side.
"Arthur, you have a council meeting in an hour."
"Cancel it..."
"You can't cancel it." Merlin laughed at the absurdity. "Your father has already rescheduled three times just this week—you have to go!"
"I'm the prince, I can do whatever I want, and my father is an idiot. If he wants things to go his way so badly, let him do it himself."
Merlin sighed. "You make my job so difficult, you know that? You can't ignore direct orders from the king just because he upset you!"
"Watch me."
The servant rolled his exhausted eyes, but knew he couldn't complain too much—after all, he himself wasn't good at following orders.
"Why do you like sleeping so much anyway?"
Arthur opened one eye, with an expression that was a mixture of tiredness and exasperation.
"Every hour I sleep," he said, his voice dragging, "is one less disappointment in my depressing life."
Then he turned again and pulled the covers up to his chin, clearly determined to ignore the world.
Merlin stood there, frozen, processing the sentence.
One less disappointment.
He thought about everything that had happened that day. Gaius yelling at him in the morning because he'd forgotten to prepare a potion. Morgana trying to accuse him of sorcery in front of Uther (he'd barely escaped). George making stupid jokes about brass while polishing the armor.
It was only the beginning of the afternoon, and Merlin was already exhausted.
He looked at Arthur. The prince was curled up in a way that looked incredibly comfortable, his entire body relaxed, his breathing slow and rhythmic. The blankets enveloped him like a cocoon, and his face was so calm that Merlin felt an irresistible urge to lie down beside him.
"Yeah," Merlin murmured, more to himself than to Arthur. "Seems like a good life philosophy."
He stood up, took off his boots and jacket, then lay down beside the prince. Arthur didn't even open his eyes—he just shifted slightly, making space.
Merlin nestled against him, his arms pulling his prince closer, his body feeling the warmth of Arthur's through the blankets. He closed his eyes, and exhaustion finally caught up with him.
"I knew you'd give in," Arthur whispered, his voice already rough with sleep.
"Shut up and sleep," Merlin replied.
Arthur laughed softly—a soft, lazy sound—and pulled Merlin closer.
They slept the rest of the afternoon, forgetting about meetings, duties, and responsibilities.
Sometimes, Merlin thought, the best thing to do was simply surrender to laziness and snuggle with the most spoiled and soft prince in all the realms.
Of course, later they both regretted it because they had to endure hours of complaints from Uther and Gaius—but it was worth it.