#Merthur fanfic

[tansyuduri]

Chapter Two of "To Break A King" Is up

“Well, she knows how to hold a grudge,” Merlin observed softly.

“Don’t talk,” Arthur ordered. Talking would use up the little air Merlin had more quickly.

As always, Merlin did not listen to him. Instead, he shook his head and, with what was clearly a great effort, managed to push himself up slightly to lean against the magical membrane.

“Don’t you remember, dollophead? I never do what I’m told.”

“Merlin! Don’t talk!” Arthur urged.

“I sort of have to,” Merlin continued. “Well, not really, but I want to say things.”

“ Mer lin!”

“I wanted to say, I love you. This is not your fault. And if this is it for me, I’m—” Merlin cleared his throat. “Well, I’m partly glad you're here… Glad you’re here for my sake, but not glad about you having to watch. You don’t think you might be able to close your eyes?”

Merlin looked toward him, eyes full of hope. Then he nodded in understanding, not waiting for a reply. “I don’t think I would be able to either if I was in your spot.”

“Merlin. SHUT. UP. You’re using up air!”

“I know… but you can’t reach me either way. And we both know I cannot go a few hours without air.”

Arthur strained harder, desperate to stop this. His fingers scrambled against the cold stone floor, just out of reach from giving Merlin his freedom.

“I’m trying to think of what to say so you won’t blame yourself. What might help you… But I don’t know what to say,” Merlin continued rambling, using up precious air.

“I suppose… I love you and I wouldn’t change a thing? Well, I would change being in here. But if the choice was having the time I spent with you and dying here or never having met you, I know that I’d pick…” A pause, “I’d pick being with you, just in case that was not clear.”

“You stupid self-sacrificial… idiot of a sorcerer,” Arthur gasped out, agony and love filling his chest.

“It's not very nice to insult someone who is dying,” Merlin responded. “But of course, you would. You’ve never had nice manners. You should probably work on that.”

Arthur could feel the tears running down his face. He hurriedly brushed them away, then went back to struggling to reach the membrane.

“I love you, Arthur. With all that I am. Please don’t let this break you. I don’t want this to break you.” For the first time, he sounded frightened. Merlin finally couldn’t hide his fear, and what he couldn’t hide his fear of was how this would affect Arthur.

Also, was it Arthur, or did Merlin’s voice sound strained in another way?

No, it was starting, Arthur realized as Merlin gasped lightly and then tried to normalize his breathing.

“I love you,” Merlin told him, sounding breathless. “Always have... Always will. Well, not at first, thought you were a prat then... But perhaps…” He cut off to take a struggling breath of air.

Arthur could see Merlin's trembling. It was the one reaction to what was happening to him that he couldn't hide. Because he was trying to hide it. For Arthur.

Merlin gasped a few times. Clearly struggling and managing the words. “Goodbye, clotpole…love… you…” He then looked away from Arthur, likely so Arthur could not see the fear in his gaze.

Read it here!

[bluegrasssax]

Camelot looks different. It’s dreary.

Lifeless.

The grey sky eats into the stonework to suck all the colour from it. The red banners are drained to a dark burgundy, and the usually shining gold trim is tarnished. The wind howls around the citadel tower, whistling between the carved columns and cast bell; a scattering of doves flap out from their alcoves, trailing the gust down and out of sight. The sound of their beating wings echoes between empty walls.

Merlin stands beneath the looming portcullis. Glancing up, he finds the iron teeth pointed down at him, and when he moves away his boots scuff loudly against the ground.

He can’t remember where he was going, and so he goes no where at all, pacing uselessly against the cobbles as he circles the courtyard. The thatched roof of the stable rasps in the breeze, the hollow interior whispering with emptiness from within.

Pausing, Merlin cranes his neck to look at the windows high above. Set into the cold walls of the castle they watch endlessly and he finds himself nervous under their scrutiny.

He finds himself opening his mouth to call out, but is stopped when he can’t remember who he’s waiting for. Perhaps it is only him here, now. It makes sense, somehow. He’s the last one.

Merlin sits himself on the edge of the dry fountain, kicking his legs lazily to the tune of a song he’s forgotten.

The clouds don’t change – they’re still formless and matte in the sky, hiding a sun that must exist but doesn’t show itself. Moss creeps between the brickwork, and he watches its slow encroachment with mild interest; the time slips away and it’s uncertain just how long he sits there.

Eventually, when the first bricks begin to crack and the metal furnishing begin to rust, Merlin rises from the fountain’s edge and finds his way up the wide and welcoming stone steps into the castle. He thinks he sees ghosts on each one, but when he turns his head to regard them, they disappear.

Water has soaked through the flaking varnish of the heavy door, making it bow on its hinges. Merlin doesn’t dare touch it as he squeezes through the gap left at its frame, weary of its tendency to collapse. He knows it will, and sure enough, as he leaves the splitting shaft of white light behind for the allure of the dark corridor, there’s a splintering sound as the door finally lets loose of its binds. It thuds heavily on the stone, scraping and catching on the steps before it settles splayed within the courtyard.

Each padded step through the shadowed corridor is accompanied with a breath of dry air; the tapestries on the walls are browned with age, moth bitten and thready at the edges. He stops before one of them. Black splotches mar the image and obscure its meaning. He narrows his eyes, reaching out to touch at it.

As his fingers catch on the ridges of the weave it disintegrates, blowing away on an undetectable wind. Whatever image it held is now gone forever.

Merlin’s feet take him places unknown. Rooms and vaults that have no meaning, alcoves and cupboards that holds objects of nameless importance, halls and balconies that whisper with voices he can’t quite make out.

He enters a large space, one that shines in his eyes as once having been dappled in the colours of a thousand stained glass windows. High backed chairs sit on a dais at its furthest edge, one untouched by age, another weathered and featureless. The sweetness of the memory is short-lived as a hole in the arched ceiling opens up with a low boom. Stone and wood give way to draw the featureless sky into the room; the same whistling wind invades every corner and the chairs are left crumpled under the rubble.

Water drips steadily from the edges of the opening, a small stream catching on what remains of the padded seat to leave behind a stain.

When Merlin turns his back on the broken throne, something tickles at the back of his chest. Inside, on his skin, he can’t tell. Swallowing uncomfortably, he leaves the great hall behind.

Trailing his hand along the rounded walls of the staircase, he finds anticipation waiting in his throat. Every quiet rise has him holding his breath. He isn’t sure who he expects to suddenly appear around the corner, but every moment they fail to appear marks another drop of quiet resignation.

At the top of the staircase is a landing the extends out into a wide, long corridor. Unlike the rest of the castle, here all the windows are open and the curtains are drawn back. There are few shadows left. Everything is bathed in the same diffuse sunlight that haunts the wilderness outside.

Something taps at the back of his head.

There’s someone missing. But who are they?

As his foot touches upon the landing the wood flexes.

He waits.

The next step has the floorboards buckling under his weight, though they hold just barely as he moves across the failing structure. Soon only the shell of the foundations will remain, and then who will remember the magnificence of the city? Even now Merlin can see the vines crawling through the open shutters, encroaching like fingers that blindly reach for their own land to claim. They bud with wilted flowers, dead before they could even bloom.

The hallway stretches on and on, and soon Merlin is hopping from one beam to the next, the intermediary floorboards now fulling rotted away. If he looks down, he may see another hall below, another decayed level. He doesn’t dare, fearing that the exposed layer beneath is not the last. How deep does the castle go?

There’s a soft warmth that eases around his neck and drags him to a stop. Teetering on a weathered wooden support, he finds himself before a chamber door. The latch is tarnished and weeping black stains into the paled wood, and yet despite the crumbling façade it holds sure in its frame. He yearns to be on the other side of it.

There’s crashing in the distance far away. The clamour is distracting, but still, he won’t tear his eyes from the door. Somewhere, castle walls crumble. Maybe the dungeons cave in on themselves, or the battlements have given in to the constant expanding and contracting of the winter ice and summer sun. In any case, the door remains.

Plants encroach the edges of his vision, lining along the walls and consuming the dull solitude of the corridor; the beam on which he balances grows uneven beneath him, and with a soft drop he is no longer at the whims of its strength. Instead, a bed of moss lays the ground, and as the door degrades in the centre of his eye the ruins of the castle open up around them.

Only the door and he sit in the ring of stones, shielded from the wind but not the open surveillance of the sky.

A presence stands behind him. It smooths hands over his shoulder and down his chest. It whispers in his ear and urges him to turn around.

But he doesn’t want to. The door.

Why does he know this door?

It would be easy to sit upon the moss and let it overtake him. Let the creature of the misty morning seduce him into sleep, to crumble as the castle walls do.

Breaking away, he steps towards the door. Its frame of stone is jagged and ends in broken pieces where its corridor has melted away. He pushes carefully at it and it doesn’t yield. The wood is spongy against his skin, cold and wet.

Trying the latch, it catches on itself and won’t move, too caught in its rust. Merlin draws his lip between his teeth and thinks.

Again, a comforting warmth tiptoes up his spine. It almost pushes him forward, sensual and demanding in equal measure. Something on the other side of the door is reaching for him, he knows it. It doesn’t wish to bar him, no matter what the trapped wood and stone says.

It strikes at him with the subtly of the breeze, touching at his mind almost on accident.

Taking a deep breath, he raises his fist.

He knocks.

And the door swings open.

Beyond the threshold is a pristine chamber, lit with the brightest sunset oranges and rosy reds that he’s ever seen. Shards of sunlight streak across the floor, burning like radiant fire as they catch on the dazzling patterns of overlapping rugs. Gilded details call from the edges of frames, mirrors, bedposts, and each sing with a voice rich with life and history.

When Merlin steps through into the room, he’s met with a sense of peace.

Gone is the grey, the lost self, the remains of something forgotten – in its place is home. From the simple cups on the table, to the delicate refinement of the quill set upon the desk, each spark a smell, a taste, a sound.

The presence from before doesn’t follow him into the room, it settles at the doorway like a sleeping dog, content to let him go.

Merlin feels a hand in his, though looking down finds nothing there. It caresses at his knuckles, swirling circles at his pulse point, and soon the phantom begins leading him towards the canopied bed. When he sinks down into the plush silk and down, he feels the exhaustion of a hundred years of sentry rolling over him.

And as the last of the castle deteriorates into the dirt, buried by the land and all the things that have happened, Merlin falls asleep, safely in the arms of something greater.

[planesky]

You do realize the show was up for one month and the first fic was already made, in 2008.

[the-medieval-husbands]

Arthur knows.

Of course he knows. But Merlin doesn't want him to know. And Arthur would move heaven and earth for that idiot. So he keeps it to himself.

Until one day, that is, when Merlin comes to work and he's more tired than usual. Then, when helping Arthur with his tunic, he can't quite lift his left arm all the way up.

Arthur: Merlin. Lift your shirt.

Merlin: Sire?

Arthur: I said, lift your shirt Merlin. I'll not ask again.

Merlin slowly lifts the left side of his shirt, wincing, only to reveal a nasty bruise. He can see the anger laced in Arthurs features. But what scares him more, is the lack of confusion. The lack of question. There's is only understanding, and rage.

Arthur: I don't want you out of my sight for the rest of the day.

Merlin: You're not going to ask-.

Arthur cuts him off with a meaningful look. In that moment Merlin knows he knows.

Merlin: Oh. Uhm. Yes sire.... Thank you.

Arthur: No Merlin. Thank you.

There is more that needs to be said. They will talk many times about this. But for now, Arthur just needs his sorcerer safe. The rest can wait.

[ireallyneedaintrestinglife]

Merlins magic doing what it can to make Arthur's life easier and provide comfort in any way it can.

Merlins magic making Arthur's bed softer and warmer in the winter.

Merlins magic making the candles burn brighter and last longer when his king needs to pass laws and work on documents.

Merlins magic making Arthurs clothes retain their color longer and tear less easily.

Merlins magic making his armor be stronger and more durable, unconsciously weaving protection spells into the metal.

Merlins magic making sure the sun doesn't get in his kings eyes and distract him when he's fighting enemies that wish to end his life.

Merlins magic making his Kings wine taste better and food last longer keeping it warm while he does other things.

Merlins magic making it harder for his king to be killed, turning the path to his kings chambers into a maze-like structure that makes it impossible for the assassin to get to his chamber or delay them long enough for someone to stop them.

Merlins magic.

[in-the-tavern]

should've said: the production team thought it was too severe and "too much canon fodder for an endless stream of explicit homoerotic merthur fanfiction that would've kept the girlies hydrated for decades" for a playful first fight

[papysanzonew]

“I don’t understand why everyone thinks we’re together” “Me neither" Merlin says as he cuddles up to Arthur while they’re in bed watching a movie, because the sofa is too uncomfortable and if Arthur falls asleep it would be better to fall asleep in bed, right?

@sauraunderscore wrote a beautiful story out of it ❤️

My other Merlin art

[larluce]

Merlin traveling back in time to save Arthur AU but with a twist!!

Merlin makes it to the sidhes, bringing a barely breathing Arthur with him. As expected, they ask for a price and Merlin offers his life, ignoring Arthur's protests.

Sidhe1: You're inmortal you can't die

Sidhe2: And even if you could, killing you would mean killing magic itself, therefore killing the earth itself.

Merlin: (crying desperate) I don't care! Take what you need! My blood, my magic, anything! Just save him!

Sidhe1: (smiling evily) I might know just the thing.

They never tell him what are they going to take from him, but he agrees. The sidhes start the ritual, while Arthur just keeps pleading weakely

Merlin: (smiling) If I somehow don't come back-

Arthur: (crying) Stop! Merlin don't do this. Please!

Merlin: I just want you to know that I love you.

Before Arthur can answer the ritual ends and Merlin blacks out.

When he wakes up he is in his way to Camelot in his old clothes and 10 years younger. He soon discovers he's been brought back to the very first day he met Arthur. He's confused. Have the Sidhes taken from him years of his life as a price? It doesn't make sense to him, but he decides to take advantage of this to prevent some things from happening.

Time goes by and while, in general, all events are repeating, not everything is happening as he remembers. Some people arrive in his live early, like Lancelot or Gawain. And Arthur treats him better? Like he says thank you to him more often and listens to him more. Merlin thinks it’s weird, but brushes it off thinking it’s due to the changes he's been making that some things are not quite the same.

Then the day comes when he finally reveals his magic to Arthur. He cries and Arthur hugs him telling everything its okey. Nothing its going to happen to him. Shortly after however Arthur also has a confession.

Arthur: I already knew.

Merlin: What?! Since when?

Arthur: the very start.

Merlin: How? I've been careful! More careful than before!

Arthur: Because you told me before. Well, not really before, but in the future. It’s complicated.

Merlin: Wait... you are from the future too?!

They are both surprised. They thought they were alone in this and it turns out they never were. Merlin cries all over again, apologazing for everything, for failing him, for not being able to save him, but-

Arthur: You did.

Merlin: ... What?

Arthur: You did save me.

Merlin: No, the sidhes tricked me. They sent us back in time-

Arthur: It was not them who did that. It was me.

Merlin: What... what are you saying?

Turns out what the ritual really did was turn Merlin into a small tree in exchange for saving Arthur’s life. A magic tree that would grow taller and taller and never die and whose ruts would expand making magic florish in the earth forever. Arthur of course was really upset after that. He demanded the sidhes to turn Merlin back but they only told him "what's done it's done" and that all he could do was pick the tree up before the roots growed if he wanted to move it elsewhere.

Arthur put the tree in a pot and brought it back to Camelot. Everyone was devasted with the news but they were also glad their king was alive and safe. No one blamed him, but Arthur always blamed himself. He repealed the ban as soon as he could and made sure everyone knew Merlin's involvement in the battle and later the other things he find out Merlin did for Camelot through Gaius. He made an anual event and a statue in Merlin's honor. Camelot slowly but surely welcomed magic again and became the most prosperous kingdom in the land.

Merlin: Oh...I don't remember being a tree.

Arthur: Yeah, I figured.

Merlin: But you repealed the ban! That's great! Magic was free again in the-wait... so why did you do all this if everything was fine? And how did you do it?

Arthur: Everything was NOT fine Merlin. You weren't there!

Merlin: (utterly confused) I was. As a tree.

Arthur: You know what I mean! You were there but you weren't. We mourned you but you were still alive. I kept you in that pot for longer that I should have because I wanted to keep you close all the time, yet looking at you was so painful... Gwen had to scold me into finally plant you in the garden so you could grow properly. I was broken inside, while trying to rule a kingdom. I kingdom we should have ruled together from the start!

Merlin: ...

Merlin: You're telling me you somehow traveled us back in time and throw away the golden age, your dream of uniting all Albion and all you worked hard for... just because you missed me?

Arthur: And because I couldn't say it back.

Merlin: What?

Arthur: That I love you too.

NEXT PART OF THIS AU HERE -> PART 2

[cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu]

Need a fic where Arthur has to get married before he is crowned King, so he's invited countless noblewomen and royal princesses to a competition for his hand in marriage. He doesn't want to however he cannot ignore the traditions set by his ancestors.

Merlin is of course jealous but also amused. He wants to see Arthur happy and if it means helping Arthur find a suitable bride and hiding his feelings of love deeper than before so be it; that is until Arthur pulls Merlin to the side and asks for his help.

Merlin nods, he probably shouldn't have nodded, he should have ran when Arthur began grinning mischievously.

Oh no...I'm not going to like this one bit. Merlin thought.

The Crown Prince tugs Merlin along the corridor towards his sister's chambers where Morgana and Gwen were waiting for their arrival.

Morgana has a sly smirk watching him with eager eyes as Gwen stands beside her with a helpless smile as all three told Merlin, in great detail, what his mission was to be should he choose to accept it. Or should they say the illusion of accepting...they had already decided Merlin was perfect for it.

"You want me to enter the competition as the only male—in a dress might I add—to marry Arthur!?"

Morgana's smirk widens her gaze gleeful as Gwen sends him an encouraging smile, dear friend that Merlin adores but is currently in cahoots with Morgana and Arthur, is now an enemy in his watery eyes. He totally won't make blueberry muffins for her ever again! And don't even get him started on Arthur, that prat. Can't believe he felt sorry for him and wishing him happiness.

Oooohhh I'm so mad! No doubt the dress is Arthur's idea! It was one time, ONE TIME, and he thinks I wear dresses!?

"First off, I'm not a noble. There. End of story. Now if you would excuse me—" Merlin turns around to leave but Arthur quickly grabs him and throws the lad over his shoulder.

"Don't worry ladies I'll convince my—" Arthur fondly pats Merlin's bottom, "—future queen of his role and what he needs to do to win."

"NO LET ME GOOOO—"

[whydon-twego]

"You have Arthur's complete trust" Merlin laughs when Gwen tells him this and asks her what she is talking about.

Gwen looks at him strangely, as if she thinks Merlin is joking but then she sees Merlin's expression and can't hide her surprise.

"Merlin, you do realise that you're the person Arthur trusts most in the world, right?" Merlin chuckles again but this time it is with a sense of guilt and annoyance that won't let him alone.

"I don't think so."

Gwen, who until then had been mending one of Morgana's dresses, puts down her needle and thread and looks at him seriously, Merlin doesn't think he has ever seen her like that.

"You two fooling around and teasing each other is fine, Merlin, but you can't really think Arthur doesn't trust you. You can come and go from his rooms as you please, whether he's there or not, you have the keys to his room, and you're the only person who has them, and the whole castle knows perfectly well that Arthur has priceless things in there. I know you shave him every morning and believe me, that is not the job of a manservant,"

"But he is the one who-"



"That's right, Merlin. He's the one who."

Gwen seems genuinely annoyed that Merlin doesn't grasp how much Arthur trusts him, and Merlin finds himself having a chasm in his chest because he doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to think about Arthur's trust in him, he doesn't want to think that Arthur thinks Merlin is a person worthy of his trust, because Arthur is the most noble and sincere person in the world and Merlin is hiding most of his life from him.

"I have to go, Gwen."

Merlin leaves everything where he is and does not even turn around when Gwen (probably guilt-ridden from that lecture) calls him back.

Merlin hides in the first crevice he finds and struggles to breathe.

He struggles to breathe because Arthur trusts him and he knows it, but he tries to think about it as little as possible. He tries to live life day by day and not think about tomorrow and how long it is that he is lying to him. He tries not to have a heart attack every time Arthur looks at him and smiles or pats him on the back saying "good job!" or when Arthur is the first to worry about him when they are attacked by bandits.

Merlin tries not to think about Arthur's scream when they were separated on a mission and Merlin had to drop rocks to protect him. He tries not to think about the time he had to steal the keys from Arthur's room and Arthur, finding him in the room early in the morning, didn't bat an eyelid at the excuse of the woodworms because Arthur trusts him and simply told him to leave.

Merlin is a horrible person who does not deserve this kind of trust, not when he is lying to the most important person in his life.

"Breathe."

Merlin, caught in the middle of a panic attack he didn't even realise was happening, jerks at the voice and Arthur's hand resting on his shoulder.

"Breathe, Merlin, come on, in and out, calmly, follow me" Arthur takes deep breaths and Merlin tries to keep up with him but Arthur's mere presence makes the situation worse and Merlin finds himself with tears in his eyes as Arthur looks at him more and more worried.

"Gwen!" shouts Arthur then and Gwen is at his side within moments "Go get Gaius, I can't move Merlin from here in this condition."

Gwen looks at Merlin and she's so worried and feeling so guilty that Merlin wants to say something to her but is already so much if he can breathe.

Gwen leaves and Arthur and Merlin are alone and Arthur strokes his back trying to calm him down and Merlin bursts into tears. 
Arthur lays a hand on his shoulder and settles him on top of him, not holding him too tightly for fear of Merlin's breathing getting worse.

"I was looking all over for you, you know? I thought you'd be at the tavern or having fun somewhere and instead, I find you here doing the doppol-head."

Merlin laughs between sighs and sobs and Arthur continues.

"You have a myriad of tasks to do. My armour is completely ruined, I have no idea where my sword is and you were supposed to revise my speech for this afternoon but apparently, you had better things to do."

Merlin's breathing calmed and he was finally able to concentrate better, noticing that the king was sitting on the dirt floor next to him and practically rocking him.

"Arthur…"

Arthur turns his head slightly but they still can't make eye contact.

"I have magic."

Arthur stiffens and Merlin already feels lost without his king by his side even though he is still physically there.

"Alright," Arthur murmurs and Merlin gets up to look at him because there is no way he is hearing correctly. Arthur turns to look at him and his expression isn't the happiest but Merlin can't blame him "we've been through a lot worse, haven't we?"

And etiquette be damned, what is right or not right to do at court, Merlin throws himself onto his king and holds him as if he never wants to let him go again, holds him trying to tell him everything he is unable to say right now in words.

Arthur holds him just as tightly and Merlin finally knows that everything will be all right.

And that is how Gwen and Gaius find them, embraced tightly in the middle of a corridor in Camelot.

[whenyouhearthedoorcreak]

currently thinking about merlin and arthur and the royal crown again

the first time he placed the ornate gold crown atop arthur’s blond hair he felt so proud that arthur was king, that he was alive and ready to be the king he was meant to be, the worry still crept in at the edges but most of the image was filled with hope.

but months later as he placed it once again on arthur’s head he hates it, hates the way his shoulders push back and his face falls into a sheet, the way he steels himself against the harsh pressure of it

and that evening in arthur’s chambers lit by warm candles and the crackling fire merlin had snuck out of the council meeting to light before the king returned, with the cold november air bustling the windows, merlin follows arthur over towards the table. the king leans against it his head bowed and a heavy sigh leaving his chest, and slowly as if moved by the breeze outside, merlin steps forward towards him his hands gently cupping arthur’s jaw

“arthur-”

“merlin please, i know the speech already but please i don’t want it i don’t-” he stops speaking as he feels the younger man’s hand come up to his hair removing the crown from his pounding head

“no speech, just let go for a moment, just focus on this… focus on me” merlin’s voice is quiet and careful as he looks in arthur’s eyes

he’d always loved those eyes, the revealed the secrets of the kingdom if you looked long enough. merlin knows his own eyes are blue just like arthur’s but there’s something different in the kings. in the brightest and happiest days of summer they shine like an open sky, when he laughs no matter the time of day lighting around him they just Shine.

but when he is sad, tired and worn down like he is right now, those eyes are deep and bottomless as the sea, tossing and turning and they pull merlin down into their depths like a capsized ship,

it killed merlin to see him like this, he carefully rested himself back against the edge of the table, arthur sat tired in the chair before him

“your a great king arthur”

“did you not hear me say no speech?” arthur reproached

“your a better man though, a better friend”

“oh” arthur looked at his servant, his friend for all these years,

it had always been merlin who placed the crown on arthur’s head. ever since he was corronated the only person aside from himself allowed to touch the crown was merlin,

it was a strangely intimate experience that arthur had come to covet, the quiet moment in his chamber before he spoke to or hosted a feast or whatever other occasion called for the crown to be worn. merlin would pull the ornate box containing it from the locked cupboard and pull the crown from its cushioning, polishing the metal while arthur sat and waited in his chair, watching the careful work. when merlin had deemed it worthy he would look at arthur

“ready m’lord?”

arthur was used to honourifics, he never had much preference, sire was basically a nickname at this point in his life, but something about merlin calling him that had always felt like an anointing, saved for the moments when he wanted arthur to know his rank meant something to merlin.

“ready”

arthur would rise from his seat and move to the light cast by the windows near where merlin was, kneeling gently on the stone floor, looking at its gray facing before looking up at the man he had come to call his friend, merlin’s hands would place the crown on his head gently, like he was scared it would hurt him, arthur would rise and merlin would rest his hand at arthur’s jaw, looking at him for a moment.

the first time it had happened arthur was surprised, confused to say the least. but the terror he felt at having to wear the crown, to act as king in its full capacity seemed to ease slightly at the gesture, calm moved through arthur’s whole body starting from the place where merlin lay his hand.

now, tired and worn down by the weight of the crown, he was glad for merlin’s presence for the comfort of that hand in his cheek

“you don’t need to be a great king for us all to love you” merlin’s hand fell away before he spoke, he looked at the floor as if he were holding something else back

“i think perhaps if i up and left my kingdom without a ruler the people may not love me much anymore merlin” arthur jibbed, attempting humour

“not sure they’d notice to be honest, your not particularly memorable”

“oh right yes but i’m sure everyone would notice if you left”

“oh the whole kingdom would fall apart”

“of course i forgot, sorry should i just put the crown on you now?”

“don’t think it’d fit anymore, to stretched out from your big head”

“very funny merlin” arthur had always admired merlin’s negligence of authority, how arthur was seemingly nothing more than his friend in almost all moments. he could forget the weight of the crown for a moment, he supposed that was part of the reason why merlin being the one to adorn him with it meant so much. as if merlin were naming him worthy, like a symbolic gesture of the trust they shared.

“maybe you should have the crown” arthur was somewhat shocked by his own words, but more shocked to realize he meant them

“is that a proposal?” merlin was joking, arthur knew that, but he couldn’t help indulging himself in the image, merlin in fine clothes and the bejeweled crown of a king

“could be” arthur shrugged “queen title would suit you”

“your not getting me to wear a dress”

merlin had walked away now, began folding the laundry sittting near arthur’s bed

“merlin, if i did leave” he tried to focus on the room around the servant rather than the light on merlin’s cheeks or the gold glow around his messy hair “would you come with me?”

he’d always wondered, if merlin would willingly leave with him. a pent up longing in his check for merlin is say yes, to confirm that they weren’t only thrown together by fate but that they would choose this bond, this closeness, even if nothing forced it upon them.

saying it now out loud, asking it, felt like a kind of soul bearing.

“i’m sure any of your friends would” merlin

“merlin”

the servants hands stoped moving and he raised his eyes to meet arthur’s, the angles of the kings face casted ornately in the glowing light of the fire.

“your my friend arthur, id go wherever you go” the answer felt obvious, he’d thought about it more recently, with agravaine betraying them and arthur seeming more exhausted than ever he wished he could just leave.

“your a good friend merlin” arthur reached for something on the table, an old scroll in leather wrapping that needed stored away with the other trade agreements, trying to think. good friend wasn't enough for merlin anymore, the affection he felt for the other man was unquantifiable. attempting to label his feelings for merlin was as impossible and daunting as attempting to capture the night sky in a fishing net.

what he wanted was to find a way back to merlin standing in front of him with the other boys hand combing through his hair, but that was a rare thing. all touch was for arthur, it always had been.

…

if this gets notes i’ll finish it and post it to ao3 idk ive never written fic before

[tansyuduri]

Art by @kairennart for "Treat Me Warmly"

Arthur returned to the bed and pulled Merlin close to him. Then he looked away. 

“Have to stay close for warmth,” Arthur stumbled over the words, likely due to the cold, his tone almost apologetic. Merlin had to reassure him! 

“It’s fine. I enjoy it.” The words came tumbling out of Merlin's mouth before he could stop them. He wanted to hit himself and started screaming internally. WHY HAD HE SAID THAT!?

Arthur froze, turning his head so his eyes met Merlin's. Then his blue eyes narrowed. “Wait, you enjoy it? You enjoy me holding you?”

Merlin panicked. “No! I didn't mean– I mean, yes, but no! It doesn't have to mean anything, and yes... no… I… enjoy the warmth… I mean you holding me is a bonus! NO! I mean, I don’t enjoy it at all! I mean…”

“I enjoy it too,” Arthur mumbled as he held Merlin against him. A grin started to form on his face. “So, stop rambling.”

“I mean, we never have to talk about or, or do anything about it. I mean, not that there is anything to do anything about. I mean…” Merlin broke off as Arthur’s words registered. “You enjoy it too?” he stammered in disbelief. 

“Yes, Merlin.” Arthur looked at him and sighed.

Fic found here

[happypeachsludgeflower]

Unrealistic that all these magic reveal merthur au’s out there have Merlin remembering enough of his life to be able to recap the entirety of the show to Arthur without leaving anything out all in one go.

magic reveal fanfic’s:

Merlin: my magic’s for you arthur. Its only for you. *proceeds to give chronological order of events starting at ep1 all the way up to the reveal*

10x funnier and more likely:

Merlin: *months or years after the reveal* so anyway, there I was, tied to a tree, and a serkhet stings me, right?

Arthur: *spluttering* I’m sorry what

[drainsdorm]

arthur is a simple man. all he asks is for is that him and merlin have at least 3 square inches of skin contact at all times and if that is not possible then merlin must be at least within a radius of his arm’s length, ready to initiate skin contact at any given moment, and if that is not possible then merlin must at least be within his line of sight so that at any given moment, he can approach him for that minimum 3 square inches of skin contact. couldn’t ask for a more simple man.

[the-medieval-husbands]

I just imagine Merlin gentle parenting Arthur and the other knights when they're drunk.

Merlin: No. Gwain no, put the sword down. No weapons in the tavern.... Leon, if I have to tell you again that we don't stand on chairs, we're going home!

Arthur: Merlin! Come sit with me!

Merlin: Sire, I'm a little busy at the moment. Drink your ale.

Arthur: But Merlin! I want you over here now!

Merlin huffs and goes over and stands infront of him.

Merlin: Okay, what?

Arthur: *pulls Merlin down in his lap*

Merlin: Arthur! You cabbage head! Let me go! People will see!

Gwain: Oooooo mom and dad are fighting again....

Percival: Shut up and drink your ale or mom will smack you.

Merlin: I heard that!

[onceandfuturelesbian]

funny/angsty/stupid magic reveal fic but arthur already knows and merlin doesn’t know that

they seek shelter in ealdor and arthur says something like “we wouldn’t have made it without merlin’s magic” and merlin’s just staring w wide eyes and hunith is shocked and her body language is protective

arthur’s just like “what?” cause he doesn’t know what he said wrong

merlin’s like “you knew?!!?!!!!?!!???!!”

arthur’s like “you thought i didn’t?!?!!??!!??!!??”

and now they’re both just staring at eachother

conclusion as u see fit but please merthur