A Warlocks' Disguise {ArthurxFem!Merlin}

Chapter 11 - Merilyn

The sun had barely risen over Camelot, casting soft, golden light through the high windows of the castle. The early morning air was crisp, still holding the chill of dawn, and the faint clatter of armor and servants' footsteps echoed through the quiet corridors. Merilyn stood in Arthur's chambers, her heartbeat steady but quick, her nerves more controlled than they had been in days. Today was different. Today, she was prepared.

She had practiced with Guin the night before, learning every strap and buckle, every piece of the puzzle that was Arthur's armor. And now, as she laid it all out on the table, each piece meticulously polished and arranged in perfect order, her determination solidified. This time, I won't mess it up.

The door creaked open, and Arthur stepped into the room. Merilyn's breath caught for just a moment as he entered, his presence always managing to command the space even without a word. He was already dressed in his gambeson, the padded tunic that formed the foundation of his armor, his expression more focused than usual. His blue eyes swept over the table, taking in the sight of his armor ready and waiting for him.

"You did all this on your own?" Arthur's voice broke the silence, the surprise in his tone causing her stomach to flip slightly.

Merilyn straightened her posture, trying to appear as composed as possible. She fought the smile tugging at her lips, not wanting to show just how proud she was of the work she had done. "Yes, Sire," she replied, her voice steady, but her insides fluttered. The way he said it—it felt like praise, and she wasn't used to that from him.

Arthur stepped closer, his gaze appraising the armor with a critical eye. Merilyn could feel the heat of his body as he moved within inches of her, his presence a reminder of the fine line she walked every day, maintaining her disguise and keeping her emotions in check. She resisted the urge to step back, staying still as he gave a small nod of approval.

"Now let's see if you can get me into it without forgetting anything," he said with a teasing smirk, but there was an unspoken challenge behind his words.

Merilyn's hands tightened slightly, her nerves threatening to return, but she pushed them aside. I can do this. She stepped forward, picking up the hauberk—the heavy chainmail—her fingers brushing against the cool metal links. It was a weighty piece, and the strain of lifting it reminded her of the strength needed to wear it, but she handled it with practiced ease. Standing so close to Arthur, she was intensely aware of the proximity, the quiet tension of standing close enough to catch the subtle scent of leather and steel.

Carefully, she draped the chainmail over his shoulders, the sound of it settling into place filling the room with a low, metallic rustle. As she moved around him, her fingers worked quickly, fastening each strap with purpose. Her heart raced, not from fear but from the sensation of performing such an intimate task—dressing a knight, a prince, preparing him for battle. Her hands brushed his back, her fingers adjusting the weight of the surcoat, a red fabric emblazoned with Camelot's crest. Every movement was precise, calculated, though she could feel her pulse quickening as she worked.

Arthur stood still, his presence steady but watchful. She could feel his gaze on her even when he wasn't looking directly at her, a subtle but constant pressure that made her hyper-aware of every detail.

Next came the gorget, the metal collar that protected his neck. Her fingers fumbled for only a second as she buckled it in place. Not too tight, but secure. She leaned in closer to make sure it was snug but comfortable, her heart pounding in her chest as the space between them closed momentarily.

Arthur remained silent, allowing her to work, though his closeness sent waves of nervous energy through her. There was something about standing this near to him, about preparing him for battle, that made her feel connected to a world she hadn't quite understood until now. She wasn't just a servant here—she was playing a role in something much bigger.