Merlin One Shots

Nightmares

Slowly, he released his ears from his own firm grip, and chocked back a sob as he tried to tune out the angry accusations, reminding him constantly of what a 'failure' he was.

"Arthurrr!" the voice called to him once again; its tone filled with determination and concern.....

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Merlin had strolled into the room minutes earlier, to quietly drop off the king's latest speech. He had spent hours on it, and thought it best to just leave it on Arthur's desk, incase he accidently misplaced it before morning.

The boy was not prepared for the alarming scene he walked in on. Arthur looked almost like he was writhing in pain. His whole body twisted and strained, as his hands tightly clasped his ears. His hair was plastered to his forehead, and his breathing sounded panicked and irregular.

The warlock stood in stunned silence, as he stared at the king's incredibly foreign display of vulnerability and terror.
Suddenly, a tortured scream escaped his throat. Merlin's feet moved of their own accord and he had crossed the room in a second.

"Arthur?" He called hesitantly, his hands hovering just shy of the king's arm.

He had no idea how Arthur would react to physical contact in this situation, and he would ideally like to avoid aquiring a broken nose.

But, as his friend's chocked sobs reached his ears, all hesitation disappeared in an instant.

"Arthur!" He cried, quickly placing a hand on his bare shoulder.

"Arthur come onn, wake up" He demanded urgently, unable to help the the small desperate edge to his voice.

"F-father no..." came Arthur's hoarse whisper.

His heart clenched unexpectedly at the broken words and the pained expression on Arthur's face. He's never really witnessed the man in a state of such distress.

"Hey...its ok. I'm right here" he muttered, moving his fingers gently through Arthur's hair, as he sat on the bed. "It's just a nightmare Arthur...please wake up"

Nothing. The sobs and whispered pleas continued, and Merlin sighed sadly. He softly placed his palm on his friend's forehead, and narrowed his eyes in concentration. Suddenly, his eyes briefly flashed a brilliant gold and a second later, the king shot up, his eyes wild and panicked, and chest heaving.

Arthur looked around the room in shock and confusion, half expecting the ghostly form of his father to jump out at him and continue his mental torture.

His frantically searching eyes, finally found the concerned ones of his manservant, sat on the edge of his bed. Merlin had scooted away to give the king some space to breath, and also to protect his face from possible attacks coming his way.

When he deemed it safe, the warlock slowly moved closer and rested a hand on Arthur's shoulder. His frown deepened at the fact that his hand wasn't immediately shrugged off, and followed by a string of insults and orders.

Instead, Arthur's frame sagged deafeatedly under his palm and he leant forward to bury his head in his hands.

"Arthur?" He asked slowly.

"What?" came the muffled reply.

"Umm...do you want to talk about it?" He asked, not entirely sure what the best approach would be.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping, so you're not late for your many chores in the morning Merlin?" the king grumbled, ignoring his question.

"Well I was only in here to do one of those 'many chores'" the warlock defended, "you're welcome by the way, now you don't have to worry about straining that pea-sized brain of yours to write a speech" he added for good measure.