emrys ✔

|| t w o

"What was that back there in the woods?" Merlin yelled at an unabashed Lancelot in the armoury.

"Nothing," Lancelot said innocently. "It's not like I told him."

"What if he figured it out from your little jokes?" Merlin said, furious.

Lancelot laughed. "Merlin, Arthur is thicker than his armour, he's not going to figure it out unless you tell him, which you should. Magic is no longer banned in Camelot."

"I know," Merlin said, guiltily. "How do you tell someone you've been lying to them since they day you met?"

Lancelot sighed and put a hand on Merlin's shoulder, silently comforting him. "I know it'll be hard, but the longer you keep it hidden, the harder it'll become for you to tell him. Arthur cares for you, he'll understand."

Merlin blushes lightly and averts his eyes. "You think? He really cares about me?"

"Of course he does!" Lancelot said, chuckling. "Now I'm starting to think you're thicker than Arthur."

"No one can beat Arthur in that category," Merlin joked, snorting.

"That's true," Lancelot conceded.

"MERLIN!" The sorcerer winced as Arthur's bellow rang deep in his ears.

"I think His Majesty up there needs you," Lancelot sniggered, winking. Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Sure he does."

"MERLIN!!!"

***

Merlin was panting and puffing when he reached the King's chambers. Arthur was sitting at the table, looking irritated.

"I'm here, sire!" He said, clutching his stomach as he gasped for breath.

"Ah, Merlin!" Arthur visibly softened. "Excellent! I need you to get me some food."

"But, sire, you had lunch an hour ago!" Merlin said in bemusement.

"Yes. And?" Arthur asked, glaring at him.

"Well, I thought it'd do you some good to cut down on a little on all that food," Merlin suggested, eyes wide with innocence.

"Are you calling me fat?" Arthur asked, looking shocked and outraged. "For the last time, Merlin, I AM NOT FAT."

"That's not what your belt buckle said earlier this morning when I had to cut that extra hole in it," Merlin muttered. He ducked as an empty tankard flew towards his head. "Oh, that's real mature."

"Shut up and go get me some food!" Arthur said, irritated. Merlin sighed.

"Of course, sire." And he left.

Sometimes Merlin had this strange, hopeful feeling that when Arthur was calling him to his chambers he wasn't calling him to do a chore. That maybe he was calling him to confess his long and deep hidden feelings of love for him. But that made Merlin laugh sometimes. Arthur? King Arthur? Having feelings for Merlin?

The thought itself was absolutely ridiculous. Arthur could have any maiden in the kingdom, he most certainly didn't have eyes for Merlin.

And even if he did, it could never amount to anything. Because he was Emrys, and Arthur was King.

Merlin didn't mind. As long as Arthur was happy.

"The King is requesting food," he told the cooks when he got to the kitchen. They all exchanged glances. No doubt suspecting Merlin of wanting to steal the food for himself. After all, the King had eaten only an hour ago.

"Hey, I'm fine with returning empty-handed, but then he'll be mad at YOU and not me," Merlin laughed. The cooks thought about it, before promptly preparing the King's meal. No one wanted to get on Arthur's bad side.

Except Merlin, who was practically immune to it.

It was kind of ironic if you thought about it. But then again, not really. Not when you aren't a thick idiot like Arthur. And subsequently, Merlin.

***
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