Merthur One-shots

Seized My Body Whole

When Merlin showed up to Arthur’s chamber later that evening, carrying his dinner on a royal silver tray, he’d looked upset, eyes dimmer, his whole body seeming taut, limbs rigid.  Arthur wanted to ask what was wrong, because it was obvious something had happened, perhaps something to do with Merlin’s absence from his room earlier?  But Arthur had thought it might sound girlish, for him to reveal just how attune he was to Merlin’s moods.  In his own head, he could worry all he wanted, sure.  But asking it out loud, letting Merlin hear the concern that would no doubt lace his voice. . . it wouldn’t do, no matter how much Arthur wanted to make sure Merlin was alright.  He supposed if his manservant truly had a problem, he would tell Arthur about it, if he thought he could be of any help.  So he just thanked Merlin for his dinner, and let him begin tidying his chamber, as he ate in conflicted silence.   

One week passed like that, Merlin remaining upset, and Arthur could tell he was trying hard not to show it.  He was tired all the time as well, back to his old ways and then some, yawning not just during the evenings, but in the middle of the day, mouth opening wide, eyes half-lidded and shoulders sagging.  He looked downright miserable, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to help him, if only Merlin would tell him what was wrong.  His heart ached, seeing Merlin in such obvious discomfort, but his pride kept him from reaching out.  

Until Arthur caught Merlin doing something which slid all the answers into place, revealing more than the prince ever could have imagined. 

He was returning to his chamber after enduring a Sunday dinner with his father and Morgana, something which Uther was always adamant about them sharing.  He’s managed to excuse himself five minutes earlier than the week previous, a new record for him.  He figured soon enough he could be cutting that time down even further.  He was chuckling to himself, thinking about different excuses he could give in the upcoming weeks, when he threw open his chamber door, and there was Merlin, sitting on the edge of Arthur’s bed, in the middle of slipping a red tunic over his head.  

His manservant froze, eyes going wide, arms stopped in their movements, the red sleeves only pulled up to his forearms.  Arthur just stood in his doorway, puzzled at the sight before him, wondering what on Earth Merlin was doing sitting on his bed, dressing himself in . . . in . . . in Arthur’s red tunic .  And that’s when everything fell into place, the confused fog that had filled Arthur’s mind for the past week lifting in an instant, replaced immediately with something different, something warmer.  Something that made him shut his chamber door gently, made him pad across the stone floor to stand in front of Merlin, who just looked up at Arthur with a slightly scared glint in his eyes, arms lowered now, but the tunic was still halfway to his elbows.  Arthur would not tolerate that fearful look, not for one moment, it pierced his heart in a way that pinched.  

“ Merlin ,” he said, voice low and soft, because he wanted to make sure his manservant knew he was not in trouble.  “Do you want to wear my tunic?” 

Merlin’s eyes melted, his pale, naked shoulders dropping like they were weighted, and he nodded his chin, biting his bottom lip between his teeth.  Arthur had to sit down beside him then, because he felt as if his knees would give out, rendered weak from Merlin’s unrestrained admission.  He brought his hands, slowly, to grip the hem of his red tunic, fingers brushing Merlin’s bare skin, lifting it gently, maneuvering the piece to lift it over Merlin’s head, making him raise his arms up, before Arthur pulled it down, slipping it onto his manservants body.  Merlin’s black hair was ruffled from the way the fabric had dragged across it, and his cheeks were flushed an adorable rose, his hands twisting into small fists at the bottom of the tunic, where it rested around his thighs.  Arthur’s hands had moved to tentatively smooth the fabric over Merlin’s bony shoulders, and he swallowed all thick, at the warmth of them under his fingers.  He looked over Merlin’s whole frame, at the way his tunic just swallowed him up, a clear reminder that this was Arthur ’s tunic.