#in love with a merlin who is just unimpressed with any royal apart from Arthur

[ireallyneedaintrestinglife]

Ok I know this would never happen in canon but like I cannot get the idea out of my mind.

We know that Ealdor is a small village on the edge of Cenreds kingdom, near Camelot. Imagine Cenred traveling through Ealdor to get to Camelot so they can make some kind of deal or whatnot and they stop at Ealdor for the night.

When they arrive everyone is all 'yes sire' 'of course sire' bowing and polite and 'my king this' or 'my king that'. Except, that is, for Merlin. He gets scolded by Hunith multiple times to not stare directly at royalty and to bow and do this or that but he flat out refuses to speak to them at all.

This eventually leads to Hunith coming up with the lie that Merlin can't speak so he, hopefully, won't get in trouble for not treating them with the respect they think they deserve.

When Hunith finally manages to drag Merlin into their little cottage to ask him why he's acting this way Merlin mentions that Cenred feels icky and wrong. When she tries to get him to elaborate Merlin can only respond with a few short words.

"He is NOT My King"

[shprka]

A matter of time (a merthur fic)

Title: A matter of time

Pairing: Merlin/Arthur

Written for: MerlinMemoryMonth May 2019

I chose Path 3: A time to consider / A time to act

Summary:  One of the things Merlin never would have predicted was the legendary King Arthur magically appearing into his living room and confusing him with the sorcerer Merlin.

It’s in Merlin best interest to calmly explain to him that they are in the 21st century and Merlin isn’t the person he’s looking for. All the while trying to not get stabbed with Excalibur and ignoring that the legendary king is hotter than any of those scripts ever described. And an incredible prat!

Read under the cut or on AO3

Listen, it’s sounds mental, absolutely bonkers and Merlin would recommend a good psychiatrist to anyone who’d ever tell him that the legendary King Arthur appeared in their living room out of thin air, but. But.

That’s exactly what happened to him.

And the day started relatively pleasant. Of course after he woke up at the fifth alarm, which was at 6:25, and that 25 minute delay fucked up with his everyday schedule. He had to run around the flat, dress himself with one hand and brush his teeth with the other, but he managed to catch the later bus and he was just few minutes late. His friend Maria covered for him and the kids were still sleepy, so they didn’t even care when Merlin burst into the classroom, flushed and panting, seeing his group already drawing peacefully with Maria.

After that everything went great, as it usually did, with the kids he loved and being as childish as he liked all the while keeping an eyes on those restless bundles of energy. Even a few incidents - like Thomas throwing up on his t-shirt - didn’t sour his mood.

Then he met up with Gwaine and a few other mates, who were kind enough to let Merlin shower first at his place before meeting them at the pub. All that Gwaine was always teasing him he had a lot of sympathy for the things the kids did to him and he shuddered at the mere mention of what those little sociopaths could do and say.

But anyway!

King Arthur, right? King Arthur.

Merlin was pleasantly tipsy - it was Friday, he never drank when he was working the next day - and he stumbled into his apartment, giggling to himself and planted his arse on the sofa, turned on Netflix on his laptop just to make some noise, while he was undressing and making his bed and… And he close his eyes and there was that.

Something woke him up. Some feeling he couldn’t discern. He didn’t drink that much, but maybe it was his upset stomach or he just wanted to piss. Righting himself up on the sofa and opening his jaw in a big yawn, Merlin was just standing up, before he fell right back onto his arse as someone appeared into his small shabby living room, just behind his coffee table.

Is “appeared” a right word? Maybe. Maybe more “materialized” or “pop in”, or not - those were just synonyms and not different words.

But yeah, you get the picture - some man came out like some kind of invisible wall, right foot, left foot, torso, two hands clutching a sword, a full body armour.

The man - because it was definitely a man, a knight of some sort - was crouched slightly like he was hunting or expecting someone to attack him any minute. He hadn’t spotted Merlin at first, in the low light of Merlin’s laptop that stopped playing Merlin’s show and now displayed just his screen-saver - a default picture of a cliff.

“Who the fuck are you?” Merlin shrieked, and maybe it wasn’t that great of an idea, because the stranger actually raised his sword and Merlin had a half of a second to think about his life, before the stranger was on him.

The stranger was on him and actually managed to flip the sofa on the back, Merlin falling back with it and the stranger on his knees on either side of Merlin’s ribs, his sword

dangerously close to Merlin’s Adam’s apple. He gulped and wanted to shudder at the feel of the sharp blade at his throat, but he managed to stay still.

And then the laptop screen went black and the whole room with it.

“What did you do?” snarled a voice above Merlin, sword even closer now.

“The light… let me just reach for my phone and I…”

“Turn on the light.”

“I’m trying… Let me go, so I can do that.”

“Just use a spell.”

“What?”

“Or light a torch. Where do you keep the fire?”

“Um… Like a lighter? I don’t smoke.”

That whole exchange was more that a little weird, but he went along with it, because the stranger didn’t actually seem like he wanted to kill him. Or maybe he wanted to see him as he slit his throat with that incredibly sharp sword.

“Listen,” Merlin started like he would start with a misbehaving child in his group, slow, steady and confident, “Let me reach into my back pocket. Or let me go.”

“What if you’re the enemy?” The weight of the man pressed onto him and Merlin gasped.

“I’m not. I don’t have any enemies. At least ones I’m aware of. I’m a kindergarten teacher. Please,” he added, hoping to elicit some pity at least.

The man grunted and the sword was gone, thought Merlin somehow knew the stranger was ready to pounce any second Merlin did something stupid. Merlin tried with all his might to not do anything stupid.

He reached into his pocket, slowly trying to navigate his hand in the darkness and trying to not touch the man, though he was still kneeling and keeping Merlin from escaping. His hand brushed a thigh, a rough material of trousers meeting that thing that knights were beneath armours, whatever its called. The stranger tensed and Merlin stopped, before he quickly grabbed his mobile from the back of his jeans and flipped it on from memory and chose a lighter.

The first thing that came into view was the man above Merlin. He indeed dressed in some kind of armour, held a real life sword and was dirty and bloody and had a cut on his face that looked awful. He turned his face away against the light and Merlin could see a strong square jaw.

Whatever he was, whatever he looked Merlin had to get away. The man, the knight was reeking something awful - stale sweat, blood, dirt. It made Merlin’s eyes water and he had to breathe through his mouth.

“Can I…?” Merlin started and the man clenched his jaw, but nodded.

Merlin crawled away from the couch, slowly, keeping an eye on the stranger in his house and got to the switch and instantly the room became bright.

The knight stood up, still gripping his sword, and Merlin stared at him in utter shock and confusion.

The man was blond, his dirty fringe falling on his forehead and curling behind his ears. His armour was dented in some places, though besides that he didn’t look injured anywhere. He wore that chainmail thing that Merlin felt for a bit and therefore knew how heavy it was, but the stranger didn’t seem to bow under its weight.

He had a light eyes, which was a stark contrast against all the dirt and blood on his face.

“How did you got here?” Merlin asked at the same time the man said, “Where am I?”

“How can you not know where you are? You came here!” Merlin just couldn’t believe. Maybe he was drunker than he thought. Or it was a very elaborate dream and he’d just wake up on the sofa with an awful headache in the morning.

“It was a spell, I got tricked,” the mad said, more grumbled really, then straightened his back, “Which brought me to you, so you must be a sorcerer, too. I demand you tell me your name, sorcerer.”

Merlin laughed despite himself. Who did that weirdo think he was?

“It was you who broke into my flat so late, so I don’t owe you my name. Though you owe me an explanation.” At the unimpressed stare, Merlin rolled his eyes, “My name’s Merlin and that should be enough. I answered your question, so you answer mine. And the truth this time.”

The knight sighed, a heavy sigh, and sat on the edge of the fallen sofa, his sword resting beside him.

“So the prophecy was true. The dragon said our paths will cross again. I didn’t understand the meaning of his words until now. The past and the future… Tell me, Merlin, are you not the same man that helped me over the years?”

“Pretty sure not,” Merlin crossed his arms. “And you better start talking sense. Tell me who are you and where are you from? And why are you so keen to believe in magic? Maybe you’re from Hogwart? Are wizards real and you just apparated into my flat, harry potter style?”

Now it was the stranger’s turn to frown. “Are you mentally afflicted, Merlin? Talking gibberish and accusing me of using magic...” He shook his head. “I could get you executed.”

Merlin was somewhere between offended and amused. “What? Are you some kind of royal? Wait, you’re a knight, I remember from the history books that only nobles could be knights, right? In medieval times.”

“History books? Is it not the law here? Where exactly are we?”

“Err… In London?”

“I’ve never heard of the Kingdom of London. Is it perhaps over the sea?”

“Depends. Where are you from?”

“Camelot.” Merlin snorted at that, but the man was utterly serious. “And my name is Arthur Pendragon.”

Merlin blinked. The name was kind of familiar, yeah. Though quite unusual. It was like a book of a movie character surname. Though Merlin couldn’t put his finger on that. But he knew like five Arthurs, so…

“Are you, uhm, someone important?”

Arthur spluttered, “I’m the King of Camelot, you absolute bumpkin! How can you not know that? I understand you could not have recognized me. I don’t look my best, I admit, and not everyone had seen me in person, but have famed my name on all of Albion and surely over the sea you had to at least heard of me.” Though, he didn’t look so sure of himself anymore. “No matter. I am tired and hungry. Get the servants to prepare me a bed and some dinner.”

“We don’t have servants here, my lord. And who said you’d be staying here?”

Arthur heaved a deep sigh, “Thank gods, so you have more than one chamber. I wondered how big this house is. And it’s all yours?”

Merlin had to laugh at that. “What? No. A lot of people leave here. And this is my little corner of the world, there’s no other ‘chambers’, sorry.” Merlin stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “But I guess you can stay here for tonight, it’s too late to look for a hotel or something. Besides, let me guess, you don’t have any money, do you? Or ID?”

“We don’t carry coins into battle. But I’ll be in your great debt and as soon as I will make my way home you’ll be rewarded with so much gold as you could carry.” Which, he probably though, would not be much, seeing Merlin’s lanky form. Jokes on him, Merlin could swing four four-year-olds clinging to his arms, which was no mean fit. Besides, running around fifteen kids all day kept him in shape.

Anyway, why would he even care what Arthur thought of him?

It was nearing two am and Merlin had an awful headache, all he wanted was to go to sleep. He didn’t think Arthur would steal anything, but Merlin genuinely did not have anything that valuable to steal. Besides, everything pricy he kept near himself in his bedroom and that room was off limits for Arthur.

But he guessed he had to let him use his bathroom, while Merlin had a time to make some sandwiches and think about what evil he’d done in the past that this was his punishment.

“First you must get rid of that thing you have on you. I’ll find you some towels and spare clothes and you can take a shower. You smell so bad.” The king looked so offended it was hilarious, but then he furrowed his brows at the word shower. DId Merlin want to explain what a shower was and how it worked and not being accused of sorcery? Nope. “Or I’ll prepare you a bath.”

“You would make a good servant, Merlin.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and went to the bathroom. He found a spare towel in a cupboard, turned on the faucet and on a whim added some lavender bath salt. God knows Arthur needed anything he could get to get rid of that awful smell. Merlin would have to open a window or something in the living room not to die. He checked if the water wasn’t to hot and went to the bedroom to find some clothes, before he reached it there was a thud from a living room and Merlin flinched before running to check if Arthur didn’t do anything to himself or more furniture.

He was sat on his arse on the floor, pouting. It was kind of adorable. As much as a dirty and bloody knight could be at least. When he spotted Merlin in the doorway he stood up quickly and gestured to his arm covered in armour.

Merlin saw him struggling for a bit longer, grumbling to himself, before he marched to him and batted his hands away. “Stop, stop, let me. You haven’t ever took off your armour before?”

“We have squires for that. It’s not that easy to do it alone,” Arthur said quietly, and Merlin heard him perfectly and unfortunately also smelled his breath. Maybe he would be more away of their proximity if it wasn’t for that. The smell was truly horrendous. He thought he had a spare toothbrush somewhere, too.

He got the hang of the buckles, while Arthur stood still as a statue, while somehow still managing to look relaxed. He had to be used to it. Being king and having a lot of servants.

“You don’t have to scrunch your nose, Merlin. I’m aware of how I smell. I just grown used to it. When on war you don’t have many occasions to take a piss, and baths… are a luxury.” He took a deep breath and as the armour came of realised that he was smelling Merlin. “Which doesn’t seem to be the case with you Londoners. Are you always as fresh as daisies or I came just after your weekly bath time?”

Weekly… Okay, that was too weird even for Merlin. Though to be honest he didn’t smell his best - sweat and alcohol and all, but maybe in medieval times that was considered fresh as a daisy. Shit, maybe they should stop with it altogether.

“Alright, this part came off, will be alright with the… the rest?” Merlin made a motion with his hand at the… chainmail thingy, but Arthur gave him a wry smile.

“Yes, I can take my own trousers off, Merlin, thank you.”

“Then come on,” Merlin grumbled and lead him to the bathroom, trying to hide how warm his cheeks have become.

The water was now reaching about two thirds of the bath and the smell of lavender was prominent in the air. He turned off the faucet and made a tactical retreat when the heavy chainmail made a heavy thud as it fell off on the tiles, hopefully not breaking anything.

“Will you be alright by yourself? Great. I’ll make some sandwiches. You know where to find me. The towels are on the toilet bowl!” And then he closed the door shut and leaned his forehead on it with a sigh.

“Merlin?” Merlin jumped away from the door. “Don’t touch Excalibur, you might hurt yourself. And if you even think of stealing it, I will chop your head off with or without it.”

Then, without waiting for a response, Arthur sunk into a bath with a groan. Merlin covered his ears and run to the kitchen.

Excalibur as in… the sword? And Arthur as in… King Arthur? From the legends? Was he also named Pendragon or… Merlin quickly checked his phone and yep, everything fit, King Arthur Pendragon, Camelot, Excalibur.

Merlin sat on his plastic chair by the small square table and banged his head on it. It was just getting weirder and weirder. Could it be true? But even so, how? And why? And why Merlin? He was nothing special. He had a name of the famous sorcerer and people teased him about it all his life, but that’s it. He wasn’t… He didn’t have any magic in his life, as much as he dreamed about it, since he first read Harry Potter.

On the other hand sometimes… It was absolutely crazy, but sometimes a thing would happen - a perfect parking spot, the last one of his favourite scones in the bakery… It was just plain luck, but sometimes Merlin fancied himself more magic than lucky, because of his name. He thought he was crazy, but he had seen Arthur appearing into his living room. He’d seen it with his own two eyes.

He started to take out cheese and ham and he even found a tomato in the fridge. He took out some slices of bread.

He hoped it was a dream, you know. He would just go to sleep, wake up tomorrow and everything will be the same as it was that afternoon, the same as it was everyday. Merlin’s life was mostly consisted of routines, not much excitement to be had. Even the blokes he’s been with weren’t very good-looking or fit or exciting.

Then he almost sliced his finger off when he heard the bathroom door opening and a footsteps coming closer. “Hi, Arthur, sit here. Probably not what you’re used to, but... Why are you naked?”

And the thing was now that Arthur washed away all the grime and dirt and blood he was… The most beautiful man Merlin had ever seen. That square jaw and straight nose, and light eyes… And it was so unfair that Merlin couldn’t touch him it was like a physical blow. The breath of his shoulders was also unfair, and his bulging muscles. His hair was even lighter than he thought - it was a golden shade, the same colour was also on a sparse hair on his chest and legs and around his soft cock. There were so many scars on him, some faded and old and some new and angry red.

Merlin swallowed and looked up only to flush an ugly red colour, when those eyes met his and stayed there, looking perplexed.

“You said you will find me clothes, but I did not see any fitting ones in the basket. Why are you so red, Merlin? Do men in London shy away from each other’s bodies?”

And that was not something he was willing to get into, but Arthur had a commanding tone and Merlin found himself stumbling over his words, “It’s just very… intimate, to see the other person naked. Reserved for an, uhm, people that are close.”

Arthur looked genuinely interested. He planted his naked arse on the stool and started to eat. At least he had the decency to swallow before speaking again, “You said you don’t have servants in London. So who washes you, then? Or the royal wash themselves?”

“Everyone washes themselves here. There are no servants and everyone are equal. I mean we have a queen and whatnot, but they are also normal people, albeit a bit more reach than us simple peasants.”

Arthur nodded, eating his sandwich, while looking around the flat. It wasn’t anything impressive. Merlin was not the person to hoard things and he was relatively tidy. There was the fallen sofa, Excalibur leaning on it as Arthur left it, the pieces of armour strewn along the floor. Maybe he should’ve tidy up some before Arthur came out, but he was just too bloody tired.

Still, he made his way to his bedroom and found some gray sweatpants from his old boyfriend and a Nirvana t-shirt Gwaine left there ages ago and they both forgotten about it. He brought the clothes to Arthur, who was finished with all his sandwiches and even stole one of Merlin’s, the thief and was now standing in front of Merlin’s bookshelf. It was filled to the brim, and Arthur chose a book at random. Merlin knew very cover by heart and knew it was some old edition of Alice in Wonderland.

When he looked at Merlin, he was impressed. “So you can read.”

“What?” Merlin managed, didn’t know if to get offended or not by King Arthur thinking he was so stupid he was surprised when he learned Merlin actually could read and the books were there not only for display. “Of course I can read!”

Arthur put on the sweat pants quickly and frowned a bit at them for some reason. They rode really low on his hips, indecently low and Merlin tried not to let his eyes wander much.

“I just... “ Arthur seemed to be at a loss for words. “It’s just that not many peasants from where I come from are literate. Even some of the royal servants weren’t taught to do that. To be honest, some of the knights display a lack of ability to do so and aren’t interested in things like books.”

“Peasant?”

“Is that… a correct term?” Arthur wondered, looking at Merlin like he was a peculiar sort of creature. “How do you call incredibly poor people in your land?”

“I’m not that poor! How did you even…?”

Merlin didn’t come from a particularly wealthy family, but he managed to make something of himself, leave Ealdor and take a job as a kindergarten teacher at a public school, which allowed him to afford to live in a decent but small flat in the centre of London.

“Your clothes.”

“What?”

“Aren’t you cold in winter? You even don’t have any sleeves and your trousers are too tight.”

Merlin even forgot he wore those, but they weren’t that tight.

“Those are called skinny jeans. People wear them all the time!”

“Oh. Why? Aren’t you uncomfortable?”

“A bit, yeah. But that’s not the point! They flatter the shape of your legs.”

“So is anyone attracted to those spindly legs of yours, then?”

“Yes, and every bloke I’ve been with said my arse looks great!”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “So you’re a sodomite, then.”

Shit! Merlin just blurted out that… Did people get killed or whatever for liking it up the arse in medieval times? Or was it after? Shit, buggering fuck, and he thought they were starting to get along, even if the king was such a prat, he didn’t mean him any harm.

“You look scared. Don’t be. We do not speak of a congress between men, but it’s not uncommon to indulge oneself with other men, especially when there are no women or whores around and, that is to say… Is it forbidden in London?”

Merlin accepted it as a mean to cheer him up and he smiled, relieved. The last time he felt like that was when he came out to his friends only to learn they knew or suspected long before and accepted him for who he was.

But the last bit caught his attention and hope bloomed in his chest. He wondered if Arthur ever… At last he said, “No, no. We’re pretty liberal here… Well, not enough sometimes, but we’re getting there. I could even marry you if I wanted.”

Which was, evidently, not the right thing to say. Arthur gradually started becoming red in the face and the blush spread on his chest, which was still uncovered. He clutched a t-shirt in his hands.

“As in two men who love each other can marry, not me and you obviously. We should go to sleep.” Then he stopped and frowned.

He had only one bed.