Merlin One-shots

Best Friend

The clip-clop of horse hooves on the dry earth filled the air as Prince Arthur's hunting party of three made their way down a well-trodden trail.

"You know what your problem is, princess?" Gwaine's voice grated on Arthur's ears as they rode side by side at the front. "You don't have enough people to tell you to shut up every now and then."

"Better than yours: the complete inability to shut up, no matter who tells you to."

"Oh, but that's part of my charm, wouldn't you agree, Merlin?"

"Mhm," Merlin replied, thoughts elsewhere. Gwaine glanced back at him, a little concerned at the gloominess about him. "You've been awfully quiet," he said.

"M'voice is gone, remember?" Merlin rasped.

"But as luck would have it," said Arthur, "Gwaine has come to fill your usual quota of mindless chatter."

The knight grinned proudly at that. "At your service, your highness!" he said with a mock bow, earning a snort from his raven-haired friend. He then fished a flask out of his saddlebag and tossed it to Merlin, who fumbled to catch it.

"Wha's this for?" he asked.

"To soothe your throat."

"You are not getting my manservant drunk, Gwaine." Arthur tried to reach back and grab the flask, but Gwaine whacked his arm down.

"It's not even mead!"

"Brandy then-"

"Or any other alcoholic bevrage."

Arthur and Merlin shared a disbelieving look. "I think both of us find that hard to believe."

"Alright, so there may be traces..."

Merlin popped the cap and sniffed the drink. His eyes widened in surprise at the steam and pleasant smell.

"What is it?" Arthur asked.

"Honey, lemon and ginger tea," Gwaine replied, causing Arthur's face to mirror Merlin's.

Merlin took a swig and felt the liquid warm and soothe his raw throat. "Thanks, Gwaine," he sighed, voice already smoother. The warmth from the beverage that flooded his body came with pleasant buzz.

"Eh," the knight waved him off. "What're best friends for?"

"You aren't Merlin's best friend," Arthur scoffed. Two surprised pairs of eyes landed on him and for a split second Arthur wished he could take back the words that had instinctively slipped from his mouth, but then Gwaine spoke again and hardened Arthur's resolve to argue the impertinent knight.

"Shouldn't Merlin be deciding that?"

"Well, yes," said the prince. "But it obviously isn't you."

"And why not?" Gwaine challenged, eyes narrowed.

"Uh, obviously," Arthur said in a pompous voice with a half eye-roll, "because I am."

"Oh-ho!" Gwaine leaned back with his brows raised. "Is that so?"

Merlin had been chugging down his not-mead and feeling an odd disconnect to the bizarreness of the fight while his eyes bounced between the two like he was watching them toss a potato back and forth, when suddenly he spoke up in a clear yet befuddled voice. "Didn't you say it's inappropriate for a prince to be friends with a servant?"

Arthur regretted not snatching the flask when he had the chance, but a sore throat wouldn't have kept Merlin quiet for long.

"That point still stands," Arthur said stubbornly. "I said I'm your best friend; I never said you were mine."