Merthur One-shots

Light Treason

Summary: Merlin confesses to light treason. Arthur says it's fine and actually means it.

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Merlin was out. 

With Gwaine. 

Again. 

For the fourth time that week, Arthur spent the night alone in his chambers. There had been no one to eat with, no one to talk to, no one to steal secret longing glances at.

Yes, Arthur could have asked someone else, someone who wasn't Merlin, to join him, but he didn't want to. For one thing, they would probably ask annoying questions like, 'where's Merlin?’ Then Arthur would have to explain (as if they didn't already know), and his dinner guest, whether it was Gwen or Leon, Elyan or Percival, would give him a sympathetic look. 

Arthur didn't want a dinner guest to pity him, watching their words through the meal. He wanted someone who would insult him when he deserved it, laugh at him when he argued back, then ruffle his hair while tucking him in bed. None of the others would do it right.

Although Percival might be one to commiserate with.  Arthur couldn't imagine that he was overly thrilled to have lost Gwaine to Merlin so many nights this week. Still, even if he was upset, Percival wasn't a selfish prat like Arthur. He might be sad for himself, but happy for Gwaine. He'd probably say it was fine and move on, rather than let his own feelings interfere with supporting his friend.

Ok. Arthur could do that too.

It was fine.

It was fine, it was fine, it was fine.

It. Was. Fine.

“It's fine!” he yelled as the door to his chambers opened.

“Are you sure, sire? Because last month you said your dirty dishes should be gathered after each meal to prevent another rat infestation.” 

“Ah, no, you're right, George. Please don't mind me. Thank you.”

George busied himself collecting the remains of Arthur's meal.

“Whatever it is that's troubling you, sire,” he said as he opened the door to leave, “I'm sure it really is fine.”

George spoke as though he knew exactly what had thrown Arthur off kilter, and his reassurance sounded more certain than placating. That didn't make Arthur's outburst any less humiliating.

Maybe George was right and it was fine. Maybe Merlin had a friend he liked to spend time with. Maybe Arthur was being irrationally jealous.

And maybe Merlin really was seeing Gwaine - if it made him happy, then that was fine, too. Because Merlin's happiness had always been more important than Arthur’s.

George had been long gone and the embers in the hearth were dying when the door to Arthur's chambers opened again.

“Hello, Arthur. I know it's late, but can we talk?”

The question was terrifying, and Arthur was glad he'd already tucked himself in under heavy, comforting blankets. He did his best to stay calm as he patted a spot on the bed for Merlin to sit.