Merthur - Forgotten

Rain and Thunder

"Even when he loves you, you push him away."

"It was always a mistake for him to love me as he does. He should not love me more."

___ ___ ___

Gawain constantly had to stop to check the date the book was printed. It was written in a dialect rarely spoken anymore except for plays and movies... but there were simply too many coincidences for it to have been written such a long time ago. What's more, it was written under historical fiction. Was it really possible that Emrys could have predicted the names of not only the whole royal family but also the names of its servants?

    Nothing about the book seemed real until flipped to a page toward the end and found his own name. Except he did not recognize the man who shared his name. This was a man who willingly sacrificed himself to find his king. Gawain knew he would never lift a finger to help any royal, much less (if the book was right) Arthur himself.

    Emrys was right, Gawain found himself thinking, this story was better forgotten.

    Merlin jolted awake before the sun rose. Clouds blocked what little light the moon provided and so he found himself, not for the first time, waking in complete darkness. With each beat of his own heart, there was another not far behind. With each breath he took, he was keenly aware of a different, more steady breath next to him.

    The rush of blood in Arthur's veins was more than audible with Merlin's ear pressed against his bare chest. Somehow, during the slowest hours of the night, Merlin had ended up half on top of Arthur, one hand around his waist and the other pinioned under his own body. A strong arm– a knight's arm, Merlin thought– was wrapped around his shoulder, holding him in place.

    Deep guilt filled the warlock in the short minute it took for him to remember the day before. He'd been so far out of reality that there was no way he could have properly cared for Arthur. He should have taken a day off, should have left Arthur to battle the cold on his own. Except that he hadn't and now, Arthur was accommodating for him. Had even undressed him. How much of a fool must he think I am?

Merlin slowly, very slowly, drew his legs away from Arthur's, knowing that in doing so, there was a good chance he could wake him. He sucked in a deep breath, watching Arthur's face as he moved. He hoped that he would see the flutter of Arthur's eyes if they had to open at all. There was no movement that Merlin could discern as he pushed himself up and away from the prince.

Then the moon came out from behind the clouds and Merlin froze. Arthur's blue, half hooded eyes had been watching him the whole time. Probably, Merlin thought, since I woke up.

"You were going to leave." The sleepy drawl in those words told Merlin that his prince wasn't quite awake yet. Not fully, anyway.

A soft breeze traveled over Merlin's half-naked figure.  Now that he was on all fours, getting ready to leave another man's bed in the middle of the night, the sheets had slid off of him. Merlin shuddered, struggling to find an answer.

"No," he whispered, knowing it was a lie that passed his lips.

"Don't try to fool me, Merlin. You know it doesn't work."

Before Merlin could protest, Arthur pulled him back down. Merlin did not fall onto the bed next to Arthur as he had thought, but instead, his chest met the warmth of his lord's equally bare one. This in and of itself would have been enough to take his breath away, but then Arthur took him into a distracted, tired kiss.

Arthurs's lips were chapped, warm, and the opposite of everything else Merlin was feeling. The adrenaline pumping through his veins made him hyper-aware of his surroundings. Not only the lips, briefly and sloppily pressing into his own, but the way the sheets felt under his hand that was holding him up, the rise and fall of Arthur's chest... even the rustling sounds of the guards roaming the castle halls.

"You must be really tired to have done that," Merlin gasped when Arthur let him go. There was no response. Possibly because the prince was already asleep again– his eyes were closed– and possibly because he was not as asleep as Merlin had thought.

But of course, that was impossible and Merlin knew it. It was a tired mistake and that's all it would ever be. Even so, it had spooked him enough that he didn't try to leave again. Let Arthur find him there in the morning. Perhaps it would make a change.

___ ___ ___

    It did not make a change. By noon the next day, Merlin had polished his armor repaired two sets of boots, and swept his chambers. Every fear he'd had the night before seemed to have no real effect on reality. Arthur didn't act any differently than he always had, and certainly didn't act as if he'd kissed him while half-naked and laying in bed.

    That day was a slow one. There was no crisis to speak of and it was not even particularly beautiful. Cold rain cascaded down on all of them as Arthur conducted another training session. Merlin was a target, of course, but that was nothing new. When he did get a break, it was sitting with Gwen beneath a tent. They were both watching the man they loved, but with different, contrasting expressions dawning their faces.

    Merlin tried not to look too upset about the outcome of the day, but he was sure Gwen saw it. She had the grace not to say anything. The pitter of rain against mud and the rhythmic shouts of Arthur's training filled the silence between them. Until she spoke.

    "Today was supposed to be sunny. The first sun we would have had in a long time."

    Merlin forced a little laugh. "Who did you get that from?"

    She gave him a closed-mouth smile and the look in her eye said 'where do you think?' At once, they both looked at Arthur and this time, Merlin genuinely laughed. Guinevere did too and there was a slight hesitation in the next call Arthur made.

    "Gwen," he said, his voice lowering so that only she could hear. She leaned in, the smile still lingering on her face. "I told you about how he talks in his sleep, right?"

    A nod.

    "Well last night, it went a little farther than that."

    Her eyes narrowed and her smile returned. She seemed to be expecting something big. Well, Merlin thought, she would get it.

    "He mumbled your name," Merlin paused for effect, noting that her expression didn't change. "And kissed me."

    It was the confession he'd wanted to get off of his chest, yet it was also just the right amount of a lie to make the situation right again. Arthur had a partner already picked out and Merlin, despite desperately wanting to, didn't think it was right to get in the way.

    Guinevere's jaw dropped, but the smile didn't disappear. "You're lying."

    Merlin felt his own smile return and he shook his head. "I wish I was. The last thing I ever wanted was to be kissed by prince prat himself."

    She slapped his arm lightly as if scolding him for his rude behavior. Merlin saw her mouth move to say something else, but then her eyes flickered away and she stopped in her tracks. She gave him their signature wide-eyed 'Arthur is coming so keep your mouth shut' look before straightening. Merlin did the same and glanced behind him.

    Arthur was a good six paces away and, thankfully, way too far off to have heard him.