claire_debonair (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
claire_debonair) wrote2009-01-03 05:03 pm
claire_debonair) wrote2009-01-03 05:03 pm
Entry tags:
Merlin fic.
Title: Not Quite Mrs Banks Either
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Complete an utter fiction. Sadly.
Summary: A sequel to Not Quite Mary Poppins. The next year in the Pendragon household, in which Merlin is no longer a nanny, Arthur is still a prat but a loveable one, Gaius saves the day and Uther does nothing.
A/N: Great thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
caedesdeofor betaing this after I sent it to her on New Year's Day. Edwin's surname is Chwilen because it means 'beetle' in Welsh.
"Last night I dreamt we were at Gawain's party again."
Merlin barely pauses in his attempts to tie his tie without strangling himself while frantically searching for something. "Good for you, Gwen; have you seen my laptop?"
"It's in your bag, which is hanging on the back of your bedroom door." Gwen leans against the door to Merlin's flat and watches with great amusement as he checks his bag to find that, yes, his laptop is right where he put it ten minutes ago. "We're going to be late, you know."
"Lance would wait for a year for you, and Arthur won't mind. He'll spend the time waiting for us on the phone, hacking out the details of this business deal he's halfway through."
"Don't you mean hashing," Gwen asks, shoving Merlin's jacket at him and yanking him out of the door. He barely has time to lock it before she's pulling him down the stairs.
"With Arthur, no. Definitely hacking."
Gwen stops halfway through unlocking her car and looks at Merlin. "I'm starting to think double-dating wasn't such a good idea after all."
Merlin just grins and refrains from telling her that he finds Arthur in full businessman mode pretty hot.
—-
When Merlin moves in with Arthur everyone knows about it, because it causes so much bloody arguing. It gets to the point where Gwen threatens to hold an intervention if Merlin turns up at her door to complain about Arthur one more time, and even Uther deigns to tell Arthur that strife this early doesn't bode well for the relationship.
Gwen's threat falls on deaf ears; neither of them feel strong enough to ignore Uther.
Irony abounds when Arthur finally consents to discuss the matter with Merlin, rather than continuing to act as if his request is to be treated as a royal decree. Merlin feels it's his duty as the one with a sense of humour to point the irony out.
"You do realise that exactly a year ago today we were also arguing?"
Arthur stops glaring at the floor and frowns at Merlin. "We were?"
"The day before Gawain started school."
"Oh." Merlin waits for Arthur to dredge up the memory of what that argument was about, and smiles slightly at the stricken look on Arthur's face. "Oh. I'm still sorry about that, you know."
"That's not the issue here," Merlin replies, trying not to smile soppily. He partially succeeds, but only because it's impossible not to be soppy when Arthur looks like a kicked puppy. "The issue is me moving in."
The frown returns full force. "I don't see what the big deal is; it's only-"
"It's not 'only' anything, Arthur, it's you telling me I've got to give up working!" Arthur shoves his hands into his pockets, his slouch against the kitchen counter intensifying as he avoids looking at Merlin.
Why they do all their arguing in the room with the most potential missiles Merlin cannot fathom, but they should really stop. It's far too tempting to throw a spatula at Arthur right now.
"But your job was Gawain, and if I keep paying you to look after him now you're my boyfriend and moving in, it'll look weird!" Arthur looks defiantly at Merlin and blinks when he sees the soppy smile, finally let free. "What?"
"You called me your boyfriend. You hadn't said that yet."
"Yes I have. At Gawain's party."
Merlin shakes his head. "Gawain said it at his party, not you."
"Right. Well. I've said it now." Something warm and fuzzy, like the blanket they've got over the back of the sofa in the coziest sitting room, curls up in his chest and tells him it's not going anywhere for the foreseeable future, and maybe not forever. Merlin's smile gets a little smug, because he's had no problem using the word since Gawain had announced it with such pride.
Then the smile fades. "Arthur, I can't just stop working because I'm moving in."
"Why not?!" Arthur shouts it the same way he shouts at the people who work for him, like Merlin will go wide-eyed and acquiesce to his demand the way they always do.
"Because I'm not your sodding mistress!"
They glare at each other for a long moment, caught in a deadlock where neither of them wants to admit that the other one has a point, and then Merlin starts laughing. It seems so absurd, suddenly, all this arguing, and he can't see a point to it.
Merlin moves away from the table where he was sitting (he'd imagined this going so much worse, and thought he might need the extra protection of the solid wood), and walks to stand in front of Arthur, grinning fondly at this ridiculous man.
"You're an utter prat, you know that?" Arthur smiles a little wryly, hands moving from the depths of his pockets to rest on Merlin's hips, pulling him in closer.
"So you keep telling me."
"Look," says Merlin sternly, "I get why you want me to stop working, I really do, but I'm not going to." He presses a finger to Arthur's lips to stop the looming protests. "I will compromise, though."
Arthur narrows his eyes and speaks against Merlin's finger. "How, exactly?"
"I'll ask the Great Dragon for a desk job. Finding positions for other nannies, or something." Merlin moves his hand away from Arthur's mouth to his shoulder and waits while Arthur considers.
Finally Arthur sighs. "Fair enough." Merlin wraps him in a tight hug, grinning against Arthur's neck as Arthur's arms slide around him as well. "I was always going to lose this argument, wasn't I."
"Yup. Start as we mean to go on." Merlin smirks as Arthur pulls back enough to glare at him, then pulls away properly. "I should call him now, ask about switching over."
Merlin starts to move away, but turns back as Arthur's hand wraps around his wrist to keep him there. "What?"
"A year ago we were arguing about Gawain going to Camelot Academy, and I insulted you. This year we're arguing about you still working, and I think I probably insulted you by asking you to stop. What are we going to be arguing about next year?"
Arthur looks so openly worried, a rare thing for him, that Merlin darts in and kisses him softly. "Last year we hated each other. This year I'm moving in. Think about that instead."
He's halfway towards the bigger study to call the Great Dragon (actually his boss, called John, but he can't remember when he last heard that name used) when Merlin follows his own line of thought and ends up at—
Oh. He practically told Arthur they'd be getting married next year.
Merlin has a horrible image of Morgana and Gwen as bridesmaids in terrible dresses and shrugs it off. It's not as if Arthur will have taken him seriously.
—-
Morgana stares at Arthur in complete shock. This is not, apparently, a suitable expression for a fashionable dress shop, because she's getting a very disapproving look from one of the sales assistants. She shuts her mouth with an audible clack and tries to express her shock through her eyes only.
It works, if Arthur's shoulders hunching even more is anything to go by.
"You're asking me what?"
"If you think Merlin would say yes if I asked him to marry me." It's the same thing he said before, and this time Morgana is slightly more prepared to hear it. She doesn't have an expensive silk dress in her hands, for one thing. She takes Arthur's arm and drags him towards the changing rooms, snapping "Three dresses and he's my brother" at the scared-looking woman at the entrance.
Morgana pushes Arthur onto one of the plush chairs set out for the unfortunate women waiting while their friends (or shopping friends; they aren't the same thing at all) try on seemingly endless outfits. He looks up at her as she stands over him, hands on her hips.
"What's the problem? You were trying to get us together, with the telling me he's gay, and the mistletoe, and now you're angry with me?!"
"You've been together for two months, Arthur, and you've only known him for...fourteen! I'm not angry, I'm worried that you're moving too fast."
Arthur stands and starts to pace. Morgana knows from past experience that when he starts doing this he'll be at it for a while, so she shuts herself into a cubicle and starts trying on the first dress.
"I don't mean right here and now, obviously," comes Arthur's slight muffled voice from outside, "but if I were to ask him, what do you think he'd say?" Morgana steps out of the cubicle and turns in a circle. "No, it's hideous, entirely the wrong colour."
It's pale peach; Morgana smiles as she returns to try the second dress on, glad to see Arthur hasn't gone entirely mad.
Her voice is muffled this time, by several layers of silk and one of netting. "Honestly, I think he'd be shocked."
Arthur doesn't even bother to comment on the dress this time, just raises an eyebrow.
The third dress goes on with no accompanying comment from Arthur, leading Morgana to suspect he's finally learnt what she's been trying to teach him for years and is waiting for her to say something before leaping in again.
"What about this one?" Morgana is surprised at Arthur's expression when she steps out in the final possible choice - in this shop, at least. He's withdrawn a little, body language quiet and restrained as he paces, as if what she might add will carry considerable weight.
Morgana realises this is one of their few true brother-and-sister moments, and acts accordingly.
She stops Arthur's pacing with a gentle hand on his shoulder, smiling softly at him. "He would be surprised, I stand by that, but he'd also say yes."
Arthur looks at her with the boyish grin she knows is a large part of what makes him worth putting up with. "Really?"
"Yes. Just don't spring it on him right now, okay?" Arthur grins sheepishly and nods.
"I don't like him that much."
Morgana prods his ribs sharply, grinning at his yelp. "Don't lie to me."
"You should get that dress" is all Arthur says, which is both an agreement and a promise.
—-
Gawain, unlike Arthur and Merlin, adapts very quickly to having someone else living with him. Whereas Arthur still jumps at the sounds of Merlin coming home from work (desk job at the Albion Agency, as agreed), and still sometimes looks confused at three places laid for meals even after Merlin's been living with them for three months, Gawain has no such problems.
He's as likely to ask his dad for help with his homework as he is to ask Merlin to watch him practice his fencing, and always asks both of them to come to any school-related event.
It takes them a while to work out that he's sharing things out equally between them.
It takes them even longer to work out why, and by that time Gawain has already told all of his friends, and most of his teachers, that he's got two dads.
—-
Camelot Academy has a tradition of putting on pretentious and overblown Christmas productions, which holds even for Gawain's class. The previous year Merlin and Arthur had sat through the story of Babushka, played in all her glory by a little girl with glossy black hair and a voice like an angel.
Arthur had leant over and whispered halfway through that he wanted to strangle her, to which Merlin had hissed he couldn't because Gawain would kill him in return, that particular little girl being the one he refused to admit he had a crush on, in a five year old sort of way.
Arthur's reply had been that she reminded him of Morgana, and Merlin had had to bite the sleeve of his coat to stop himself laughing out loud.
This year it's The Nutcracker, which means Gawain's old flame is relegated to being a mouse, because apparently Clara has to be blonde. Gawain himself is the Nutcracker, unfazed by the favouritism probably because he's blond himself, and also because, as he sternly informed Merlin when he'd told them of his role, he doesn't like Viviene "at all anymore, because she's friends with Mordred, and definitely not in that way."
Merlin spends the show holding Arthur's hand between his own, at first because the whole atmosphere makes them feel intensely couple-y, and then because Arthur leans over between the first two acts and confides to Merlin in a painfully tight voice that Sophia has slipped in to sit a row in front of them.
On the stage in front of them Clara yells at Fritz as he steals the wooden Nutcracker prince and pretends to search for a nut, while in the darkness below him Merlin threads his fingers through Arthur's and tries to convey without words just how strongly he's there and not going anywhere.
Arthur leans over as Clara wakes up and screams in horror at seeing the Mouse King, rather fittingly played by Mordred, even if Gawain (and Arthur, and Merlin) say so. "If she wants to talk to me, will you stay?"
Merlin twists awkwardly in his seat so that Arthur can see the full force of his glare. "Have you been trained from birth to be this idiotic," he whispers harshly, and sees Arthur flinch. "There's no way I'm bloody leaving you alone with her."
By the end of the play Merlin's hand is cramped from how tightly Arthur is gripping it.
Gawain comes racing up to them as they wait in the foyer, still dressed in his Nutcracker uniform and smiling the same charming smile Merlin had once thought, and rightly so, that he needed to guard himself against from Arthur. They congratulate Gawain on an excellent performance, Merlin carefully making them walk and talk in order to get outside as quickly as possible.
They're almost at the door when a voice stops them. "Arthur, darling, leaving so soon?" Sophia steps into their line of view, quite obviously between them and the door. "I haven't had a chance to tell our son how good he was."
It's clearly an opening for Gawain to go to her; she even leans down a little, expecting a hug or even a kiss on the cheek.
Gawain, in one of his more disconcerting moments where he reminds Merlin of Arthur a little too much, simply looks at her and says "thank you."
Sophia's polished demeanour slips a little. Her smile has slightly too much disdain in it when she looks at Merlin for the perfect 'society woman' image she seems to be going for. "You must be the nanny. Merlin, isn't it?"
Behind Gawain's back Arthur's hand finds Merlin's again, and beyond the fact that it's the first time they've ever held hands in public Merlin can feel the desperation almost palpably coming from Arthur. He swings their hands forward enough to knock Gawain, and when he looks up Merlin raises an eyebrow and smiles.
Gawain's answering grin is sharp. He looks over at his mother and, with all the finesse of a precocious six year old who is far more comfortable with his father being gay than being married to a woman (or maybe just this one) tells her firmly:
"Yes, he's Merlin, but no, he's not 'the nanny'." He captures Sophia's soft but disparaging tone exactly, and Arthur's grip loosens slightly. "He's dad's boyfriend, so I've got two fathers, and they're both better than you!"
He fumbles for Arthur and Merlin's hands, the ones not still clasped tightly together, and uses them to pull the two men out into the cold car park. He stops, breathless, at their car, and all three turn to look back.
Sophia is still standing inside the foyer, although a few steps closer to the wide open doors as if she was about to follow them. Her velvet dress, in a shade of orange Morgana would no doubt have something scathing to say about, serves to highlight the whiteness her obvious anger has given her skin.
Merlin raises a hand and high-fives Gawain, fiercely proud of this boy who claims him as a dad even after such a short time.
"I thought I'd taught you better manners than that," says Arthur, sounding like he doesn't know whether to laugh or lecture.
"Dad. It was her."
Arthur opens his mouth to say something else, possibly even to tell Gawain off, but then he casts another look in Sophia's direction and sighs instead. He lifts a hand and smiles when Gawain high-fives him as well, before turning to Merlin and using the lapels of his coat to pull him close.
"Thank you for staying." Merlin isn't sure whether Arthur means this situation in particular, or just in general, but it doesn't matter because Arthur is kissing him in the car park of the Camelot Academy, hands warm against Merlin's neck and threading through his hair.
Gawain leaves them to it for two minutes before clearing his throat very pointedly.
Merlin pulls away and rests his forehead against Arthur's, smiling uncontrollably. "How long did you give us this time?"
"Two minutes, which is more than enough when it's this freezing."
"I knew it was a mistake to get him a watch for his birthday," Arthur says ruefully, and with that they pile into the car.
"I'll go straight to bed when we get home, make it up to you" is Gawain's comment as he fastens his seatbelt.
Arthur nearly drives into one of the school's large gateposts.
—-
Christmas is mostly the same as last years, except instead of dragging Arthur and Merlin underneath the mistletoe Gwen and Morgana spend a lot of time pulling them away from it.
That, and for once Uther has his secretary send his gifts over the day before. He also neglects to tell either his son or Merlin what, exactly, he's bought for Gawain this year, so when he reveals the pair of replica medieval swords there's a long moment of silence as Gawain slashes one experimentally.
Merlin leans away just in case.
"Dad, just how sharp are those?"
"Oh, don't worry," Uther says soothingly, looking remarkably mellow. That could be due to the large amount of brandy he's drunk, of course, that Merlin has absolutely not been helping him with because he's still slightly scared of Uther Pendragon. "They aren't sharp at all."
Arthur appropriates the second sword from its box and runs his thumb down the blade. He shows the unbroken skin to Merlin and his frown clears a little. "Hmm. I suppose he can keep them, in that case."
"Will you duel with me, Dad?" Gawain's face is lit with childish excitement, and Merlin knows the answer even before Arthur answers.
"Of course."
With a war cry more befitting a warrior king than a businessman Arthur leaps from his seat next to Merlin on the sofa and swings at Gawain. His son parries at precisely the right angle, deflecting Arthur's strike and moving in for one of his own. They spar up and down the room, Merlin delivering a kick to Arthur's backside when they get too close to where he's still sitting.
Morgana sends them out into the hall with a yell as one of Gawain's lunges goes wide and the tip of his sword reduces a glass bauble from the tree into a pile of shards, neither him nor Arthur noticing through their exhilarated laughter and equally boyish enthusiasm.
Merlin turns from watching their dramatic exit to find himself being stared at by Morgana, Lance, Gwen and Uther, all wearing 'how the hell do you put up with him' expressions.
Merlin just smiles and tries not to wince at a loud crash from the hall.
—-
Arthur falls ill just after Christmas, and Merlin ignores Uther's ranting and orders for the top specialists in every field to be contacted, making a frantic call to Dr. Gaius instead. His old boss arrives that same day, bringing with him a reassuring presence and weighty reputation that even Uther stands aside for.
He spends half an hour with Arthur, speaking in a low, measured voice as Arthur struggles to answer the gentle questions.
Uther leaves before the doctor is finished, unable to stand around doing nothing.
Arthur's last fully coherent words for almost a month are an apology for giving Merlin another shitty New Year. Merlin's too busy making sure he's comfortable and that Gawain knows not to get too close just in case to pay much attention, but Morgana later tells him quietly that Arthur had booked a weekend away for the two of them, Gawain more than happy to stay with her for a few days.
It's almost too much for Merlin to cope with, on top of Gaius' solemn expression and the possibility that Arthur might not recover. Gaius won't tell Merlin what's wrong, exactly; the medical explanation is something to do with a virus, and enzymes, and if he's honest Merlin doesn't really want to know anyway.
Merlin's just put a pale and quiet Gawain to bed when Gaius arrives bearing a plain brown file and looking a little less drawn. He holds the file out to Merlin, who takes it slowly.
"What's this?"
"Hope, possibly."
Merlin spreads the file out on the kitchen table, which is where for some reason he feels most comfortable at the moment. Gaius waits patiently while Merlin reads through the entire file, occasionally asking for clarification on a medical point.
He doesn't have to ask that much; he's learnt a lot over the course of Arthur's illness.
Finally he closes the file and looks at Gaius. "This could help?"
Gaius nods. "I've spoken to the doctor in charge of the trial, an old friend of mine. Geoffrey is more than prepared to start treatment tomorrow."
Merlin has to stand and walk around, running his hands over the furniture and fittings that are so familiar to him now. He knows, from a very stilted and uncomfortable few moments with Uther several days ago, that if the worst should happen he's the main beneficiary of Arthur's will. It's not something Merlin ever wanted to know, really, but it had stopped the vague worries he'd had.
Sophia's name had never come up, but Uther had very vehemently told Merlin that's unless he objected, custody of Gawain would be split between himself and Merlin.
"Of course I've got no fucking objections" may have been the only time Merlin will ever swear at Uther Pendragon, but neither of them had cared.
"And there's a 70% chance it'll cure him?" Merlin asks, more to try and stay focused than out of any real desire to know.
"Better, if Arthur's immune system reacts well."
"Then yes. Do it." Gaius sweeps Merlin up in an entirely unprofessional hug, smiling for the first time since he'd walked into Arthur's room to make a primary assessment. Merlin watches him pick up the phone and dial Geoffrey Monmouth, a physician almost as highly acclaimed as Gaius, and wonders if he's ever going to want to smile again.
**
Long, tension filled hours made short, it works.
Arthur's back on his feet within the week, fending off questions from Gawain about what it had felt like, being that ill, and complaining about the strict diet of mush that Gaius has him on.
Merlin feels like he's on the periphery for the first day or so, watching Arthur and his son reassure each other that everything's going to be okay. He makes what feels like more tea than he's ever made in his life for Gaius and Geoffrey (hanging around to make sure he sees the vital first hours of the recovery process), accepts Uther's silent thanks (conveyed via his eyebrows, oddly) and smiles whenever he sees Arthur watching him from over the top of Gawain's head.
Morgana and Gwen, fixtures in the house since Arthur had first fallen ill, convince an already suspicious Gawain that Arthur would like to spend some time with Merlin alone.
Merlin curls up on their (stupidly) large bed and wraps his arms around Arthur, feeling Arthur do the same to him. They cling to each other in that wordless way men have when they can't quite express the depth of their emotions, and while Merlin doesn't cry, precisely, his vision goes blurry for a while and the lump in his throat makes it difficult to breathe.
—-
Gawain makes all the arrangements for Valentines Day himself, sneaking around and making good use of Gwen and Morgana's continued interest in making sure Arthur and Merlin have a perfect night to themselves.
Arthur's protests that he'd much rather spend the evening at home with Merlin fall on four sets of deaf ears, Lance having been drafted in just in case they need extra muscle.
"Why might you need extra muscle?!"
"Because," Morgana answers sweetly, "you're still weak, and if you keep on refusing to give Merlin a proper Valentines Day, we can get Lance to carry you to the damn restaurant!"
Merlin looks up from where Gawain is teaching him the correct way to clean a sword and grimaces. "Morgana, I'd rather stay in as well, you know."
"I know you think you do, but Gwen and I think that you both need a night out."
"Oh, well, if both of you think so, how can we argue?" Arthur's sarcasm goes unheeded as Morgana smiles happily and sails off to tell Gwen their plan has been a success. Arthur looks incredulously at Merlin as the door closes behind his step-sister. "Did she take me seriously?"
"Yes," answers Merlin with a laugh, "and you agreed for me as well. I suppose we'll have to make the most of it."
Arthur sighs and stares at the pile of work he'd finally managed to persuade Merlin to let him have, pleading looming insanity due to the sudden shift from workaholic to doing nothing. "So long as it's not a French restaurant, fine."
Merlin tilts his head questioningly at Arthur, but it's Gawain who answers. "Mum always used to want to go to a French place." He's almost vicious with his swipes of the whetstone along the edge of his fencing rapier as he speaks. Merlin barely stops himself from wincing; having met Sophia, he can imagine the type of place, and would rather eat rat than step inside one. "We've booked a table at the Gedref Inn for you."
Arthur and Merlin share an amused look. "How do you know we like it there?" Merlin asks with no little trepidation. Goodness knows what Gawain's reasoning is; precocious he may be, but according to Arthur Merlin's influence is making him think more like a child.
"Dad took you there for your first proper date," answers the six year old, "and you both looked utterly wrecked the morning after." He grins up at them both, completely aware of what he's referring to that's put such a look of horror on the two adult's faces, and not caring a bit.
Needless to say, with that sort of recommendation, Valentines Day is a success.
—-
Arthur is completely recovered, the worries of January put far behind them by the time Spring bursts into bloom. Gwen is in a permanent good mood, trying to convince Merlin to take part in the local dramatics groups she's joined at some point. He pleads too much to do, claiming the Great Dragon has him working overtime to get a sudden influx of nannies needing new jobs paired off with suitable employers.
It works until she turns up unexpectedly to find him in the middle of a West Wing marathon with Arthur, laughing hysterically at Arthur's criticisms of various scenes.
"You told me you'd got too much work to help me," she says accusingly, hands on her hips. Merlin peers over the back of the sofa at her and wonders why he ever thought he could get away with it.
"Sorry. I'll get my coat."
Gwen nods approvingly and drags Arthur along for good measure, putting both of them to real work, as she terms it, making sets for the rather disconcertingly named play 'The Beginning of the End.'
"That'd better not be prophetic," Arthur mutters jokingly out of the corner of his mouth. Merlin rolls his eyes and flicks red paint at him in answer.
Spring also brings with it more trouble for Gawain. While Arthur and Merlin are painting backgrounds and moving sets around, Gawain gets quieter and stops being as enthusiastic as he usually is about school. It goes unnoticed, to everyone in his extended family's chagrin, until the opening night of the play.
Halfway through Gwen's big scene Gawain suddenly shrinks down in his seat and huddles into his jacket. Arthur looks down, startled by the action, and looks over at Merlin, sitting on the other side of Gawain.
"I'm getting déjà vu," Arthur whispers. Merlin scans the town hall they're sitting in.
"I don't see Sophia anywhere." Merlin wriggles down until he's at the same level as Gawain. "What's wrong?"
"Mr Chwilen's here," comes the faint reply from somewhere inside Gawain's coat.
"The new biology teacher?"
"Mhm."
Merlin sits up and leans over to tell Arthur what the matter is. Arthur frowns. "He's not mentioned any problems at school." They both look down at Gawain, watching Gwen's performance from between the shoulders of the people in front of him with the air of a boy ready to duck at a moment's notice. "Then again, we have been a bit busy."
Merlin nods his agreement and they each take hold of one of Gawain's hands, which makes him uncurl enough for Gwen to see and wave at him when she takes her bow at the end.
Back at home, wrapped in the comfiest blanket they own and safely ensconced between Merlin and Arthur, Gawain explains.
"He's a new teacher, which you'd think would make him less likely to be obvious about having favourites, or picking on specific kids, but it doesn't. He always chooses Mordred to help with all the experiments, or Viviene, and doesn't let the rest of us do anything fun like that."
"Have the other teachers noticed?"
Gawain shrugs. "I don't know. He's just as bad with them, that's the problem. He's trying to get Mr Perceval fired because of 'bad teaching methods', and it's working! He's on his final notice, and Mr Chwilen only started a month ago. And he's almost driven Madame Iseult, the art teacher, to quitting, and we thought she could handle anything after that trouble with her old boyfriend attacking Tristan!"
"How on earth do you know about that?"
"She told us. It's not every day your fiancé gets attacked by an old flame, and she wanted to tell us how brave he was."
"Oh. Right." Arthur glances at Merlin, who simply shrugs.
"Not everyone goes through a meeting with their lawyer before sharing information, Arthur."
Gawain looks up when Arthur doesn't reply with a comment of his own, like he expects. "Dad?"
"Do you know Mr Chwilen's first name?" Gawain looks a little worried, and Merlin doesn't blame him; the look on Arthur's face is making him nervous as well.
"Edwin, I think. Why?"
"Arthur, you can't get Gawain's teacher fired!"
"I can damn well try," Arthur replies as he strides towards his study. He says it with such strong assurance that Gawain sighs and stands up.
"I'm going to bed. There's no way to stop Dad when he gets into this mood; he'll get him fired whatever we say."
"Are you sure?" Merlin asks, hoping there's a way he can stop this.
"Don't you remember what he was like when you were moving in?"
That'd be a no on stopping Arthur, then.
Merlin debates the pros and cons of making a token effort, and decides against it. He does decide, however, to go and listen to Arthur ordering whichever unlucky lawyer he gets hold of to find out any dirty little secrets that Edwin Chwilen might have.
He leans in the doorway of Arthur's office, a wood-panelled and stupidly ostentatious room that hasn't changed much since it was built four hundred years ago, and watches Arthur pace behind his desk.
The call only lasts for a couple of minutes, Arthur delivering his demands with a swiftness and authority borne from years of training. As he'd once remarked to Merlin, he's been trained from birth to be a ruthless businessman.
"Which poor servant did you load that distasteful task onto?"
Arthur grins at him, the sharp and faintly feral grin that he wears after successful business deals and that never fails to make Merlin's blood run fast. "Kay. He needs the experience." Arthur walks purposely towards Merlin, still grinning, and Merlin makes one last attempt at getting his point across.
"You really shouldn't have done tha-" He breaks off as his back hits the panelling.
"Why don't you just say you find me irresistible when I'm all commanding and shouting at people, and leave it at that?"
"Isn't your ego big enough as it is?" Merlin says, voice not quite level as Arthur kicks the door shut, hands closing firmly on his hips and effectively pinning him to the wall.
A fierce kiss is all the answer Merlin gets.
—-
When Uther and Arthur fight, the whole company knows about it, and it takes them both at least a day to calm down.
It's just Merlin's bad luck that this time the fight happens to be about him, and that he's home when Arthur gets back. Arthur is still spoiling for a fight, and lays into Merlin when Merlin makes his customary deflection of a question about that old sore spot, Nimueh du Lac.
They end up screaming at each other for a good half hour before Merlin simply walks out.
Arthur yanks one of Gawain's fencing foils from the pile of his school stuff by the door and throws it at one of his ancestor's portraits. It lands solidly in the chin of his uncle Aurelius, quivering rapidly as Arthur slumps at the base of the great staircase and hangs his head as the anger is replaced with shame.
He's still there an hour later when Merlin returns, crossing the large entrance hall without a word and sitting at the opposite side of the stairs to Arthur. He sits side on, leaning against a banister post, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. He waits for Arthur to turn and face him before speaking.
"I'm only going to go through this once, so listen carefully." Merlin waits for Arthur's nod before he starts to continue. "About three- what happened to Aurelius?"
Arthur twists his head to look at the now-still foil. "I, um, was angry with myself for shouting at you."
Merlin lifts an eyebrow, almost smiling. "So you threw a sword at your uncle?"
"You're important" is all Arthur says, making a 'carry on' gesture. Merlin takes a deep breath.
"About three years ago I was working for Nimueh as her nanny, which I think everyone knows. She wasn't that bad to work for, actually; a bit intense, and I think some of her business dealings weren't quite legal, but that didn't really affect me."
"She got indicted last year, for insider trading."
"There you go, then." The beginnings of a smile appear at the corner of Merlin's mouth, and Arthur feels something painful in his chest ease up a fraction. "Anyway, like I said, that stuff didn't affect me. Until she got beaten to a deal by Elaine Corbenic."
"The woman who owns Grail Advertising?"
"That's the one."
"I'm not surprised she reacted badly; Corbenic isn't the nicest person in terms of her attitude towards the people she beats."
Merlin stretches his legs out, feeling himself calm down now that he's going through it. "Nimueh doesn't react well to being beaten, either. She wanted me to take a job as nanny to Galahad Corbenic, so that I could spy on his mother and get Nimueh information on the next deal Elaine was planning."
Arthur stares at Merlin. "Even by my father's standards that's wrong."
"I didn't agree, obviously. Besides it being wrong on just about every level, I knew Elaine already. She'd tried to get Lance to cheat on Gwen with her a few months previously, and when he refused she pretty much told all of our friends that he had, just to prove that she could."
Merlin looks so unhappy that Arthur scoots over to his side before he stops to think that Merlin might not want him so close right now, remembering in time to stop himself wrapping Merlin in a tight hug.
"Gwen believed Lance, obviously, but it still hurt them both for a long while." Merlin leans against Arthur's side, resting his head on Arthur's broad shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but it's not something I like to think about."
Arthur reminds himself that he's well able to defend himself against Merlin, just in case, and wraps his arms around the man. "I'm glad you told me, though. Now I can go shout at my father and tell him he's bloody wrong about you."
"Do I want to know what he's been saying?"
"No," Arthur says firmly, at which Merlin laughs. "You know what he's like. One hint of something suspicious and he's all for beheading some poor secretary."
"True."
Uther's intolerances are legend throughout Pendragon Holdings, and by association in the Pendragon extended family. Merlin lets Arthur pull him up and lead him towards the kitchen, putting up no resistance.
"If you're going to make me dinner by way of an apology..." Arthur looks at him with the dangerously sweet and pleading eyes he pulls out when Merlin attempts to deny him something, "then I suppose I can forgive you."
"Ha! And you tell me I'm rubbish at being sensitive." Arthur misses the despairing look Merlin gives him as he starts clattering pans around and sending Cook off to get various ingredients he's sure he needs (she will later whack him on the hand with a wooden spoon and send him to sit quietly with Merlin while she salvages the meal).
Gawain surfaces from his bedroom and makes his way to the kitchen just as Arthur burns himself with hot tomato sauce, to the mutual amusement of Cook and Merlin. He pulls a chair next to Merlin as close as it will go, and, in much the same way as Merlin had done to Arthur a short while before, leans against him.
What Arthur doesn't know, and never will, is that it was Gawain who called Merlin and asked him to come back.
Merlin kisses the top of Gawain's head and whispers a promise to not keep any more secrets.
—-
After such an eventful start to the year, Merlin hopes that the summer will pass by peacefully. He has high hopes that the biggest ripple in this calm will be Gawain's seventh birthday party, which he also hopes will involve less chicken nuggets than last year.
He also vetoes a piñata, just in case.
Even Arthur gets involved with this plan, slowly clearing his enormous workload in the weeks building up to Gawain breaking up for the summer holidays, and telling his father point blank that he's not taking on anything else until the Autumn Term starts.
This works well until Uther just happens to mention that Excalibur Motors are looking for a new partner, to which news Arthur reacts with a startled grin and Merlin with a roll of his eyes. Arthur cannot resist anything shiny, sharp or fast, something that Gawain has inherited, and Excalibur Motors produce cars which combine two out of the three.
Maybe even three out of three, if their new racing prototype turns out to really be as pointed as it looks on the plans Arthur unrolls for Merlin.
The negotiations, which take up most of the first three weeks of summer, are almost exclusively held by Arthur. He refuses to let any of the Pendragon staff of lawyers help him with more than the basic terms, preferring instead to actually talk to the engineers and workers to see what sort of thing they want.
Gawain is very philosophical about essentially losing his father for part of his holiday, mostly because Arthur brings him back a small die cast model of each car Excalibur Motors have ever made each time he returns from a meeting. They have to put up a new set of shelves in Gawain's room because there are a lot of cars and a lot of meetings.
Something else is going on, because Gwen keeps turning up at the house, apparently to 'keep Merlin company,' but in reality hiding herself away with Morgana to discuss something Top Secret. Occasionally Lance will come with her, but he gets relegated to actually keeping Merlin company and doesn't know anything about whatever is going on.
Gawain's party is, thankfully, painless, both in terms of ease of planning and bruises. Merlin points a warning finger at Galahad (thankfully brought by his father and not Elaine), who was the cause of a very painful bruise to Merlin's hip after his turn at the piñata last year, and sends him off to join Gawain and the other boys in another impromptu - but slightly better organised - game of cricket.
"Do they teach them any other sports at that fancy school," asks Gwen as she helps Merlin set out sandwiches of seemingly endless description on tables set out along the patio. Too much food had been trodden into the carpet last year, Arthur had decreed, and so the food is banished outside.
Luckily it's another gloriously hot day.
"It seems like all they do is play cricket."
"It's either that or hockey, and Arthur hasn't got round to having a pitch laid out yet," Merlin teases. He frowns when Gwen merely nods and moves on to uncovering bowls of salad. "Gwen, I was being sarcastic."
She nods distractedly. "Oh."
"Look, I can tell something's going on; you're not subtle."
Gwen looks at him and bites her lip, seemingly considering something carefully before she turns and runs into the house. Merlin watches her with the expression of someone who is resigned to never understanding the people he loves, and moves to help a group of kids requesting drinks after their rousing game of almost-cricket.
Complete silence behind him, broken only by a hastily smothered cough, makes him spin around. Morgana, Gwen and Lance are standing in a row in front of a lot of parents who should have gone once they'd dropped their children off- "Morgana, what are they still doing here?"
"We need witnesses," is her worrying answer. Merlin takes a step back, only to have Lance lunge forward and take firm hold of him.
"Sorry, Merlin, but I've got my orders," he says, looking anything but apologetic.
Merlin glares at Gwen. She smiles brightly, and then she and Morgana move to one side, revealing Arthur, who walks forward to stand right in front of Merlin.
And then goes down onto one knee.
Merlin pulls frantically against Lance's tight hold and shakes his head rapidly. "Nononono, Arthur, please tell me this is a joke, I was joking when I said we'd be arguing about this sort of thing in a year, I really was, I-"
"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur says with a smile. Merlin clamps his mouth shut. "It's obvious you already know what I'm going to ask, so there's really no need for the long speech Morgana and Gwen prepared for me."
The women make twin noises of protests, and Merlin glares again.
Arthur continues. "So, I suppose all that's left is for you to answer." Merlin gapes down at him, uncomfortably aware of the parents watching with sincere interest. A shout from down the garden makes Merlin close his eyes and wish Gawain had chosen to set up his game much further away in the several acres of parkland at his disposal.
He really doesn't want to have to do this in front of so many people, including Arthur's seven year old son. It should be private.
Then Gawain comes into his line of view, face alight with potential happiness as well as the simple joy of being the birthday boy. Merlin looks from him to an Arthur he remembers from this time last year, gilded by the sun and happy in the most uncomplicated way, and falls a little bit more in love.
"Prat."
Arthur's smile threatens to rival the sun as he stands smoothly and kisses Merlin hard. "Idiot."
Gawain almost knocks them both over as he throws himself at them, clinging tightly for a moment before pulling back with all the dignity of a seven year old and taking himself and his friends off to finish their game of almost-cricket.
Arthur waits until the cacophony of people congratulating them quietens down, and takes a box from Morgana. "It's not exactly traditional, but I though that would be appropriate for us." He opens the box and offers it to Merlin with a flourish.
Merlin takes one look and cuffs Arthur over the head.
"I'm not sure whether to be worried or insulted." Arthur manages to smirk and look sheepish at the same time as Merlin lifts the pair of vambraces out of their hollows, unable to help admiring the sheen of the metal.
"I was aiming for flattered," Arthur says, watching him with an expression leaving happy and veering into hungry as Merlin slides the left vambrace over his wrist.
"You got me armour instead of an engagement ring, Arthur. You were dead on when you said non traditional."
Arthur stills the fumbling of Merlin's fingers as he tries to fasten the catch, and does it himself with a quick twist. "Gawain wants to go pro with his fencing, you're going to need armour." He fastens the second catch, holding Merlin's hands together to get the full effect. Arthur grins up at him, and Merlin forgets why he ever thought he had to guard against that charmingly boyish smile.
Merlin pulls his hands out of Arthur's grip and loops his arms around Arthur's neck, leaning in close to say "is that so?"
"Yup. Start as we mean to go on, after all."
Merlin feels he is completely justified in resting the cold metal against the back of Arthur's neck as Arthur leans in to kiss him, and the resulting squeak more than makes up for the publicity of the whole affair.
Just like a Pendragon, Merlin thinks. Has to do everything over the top and far too fast.
The solid feel of Arthur's body against his as they hug tightly, and the sounds of Gawain yelling as he catches someone out, make him think this isn't such a bad thing after all.
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Complete an utter fiction. Sadly.
Summary: A sequel to Not Quite Mary Poppins. The next year in the Pendragon household, in which Merlin is no longer a nanny, Arthur is still a prat but a loveable one, Gaius saves the day and Uther does nothing.
A/N: Great thanks to
caedesdeofor betaing this after I sent it to her on New Year's Day. Edwin's surname is Chwilen because it means 'beetle' in Welsh."Last night I dreamt we were at Gawain's party again."
Merlin barely pauses in his attempts to tie his tie without strangling himself while frantically searching for something. "Good for you, Gwen; have you seen my laptop?"
"It's in your bag, which is hanging on the back of your bedroom door." Gwen leans against the door to Merlin's flat and watches with great amusement as he checks his bag to find that, yes, his laptop is right where he put it ten minutes ago. "We're going to be late, you know."
"Lance would wait for a year for you, and Arthur won't mind. He'll spend the time waiting for us on the phone, hacking out the details of this business deal he's halfway through."
"Don't you mean hashing," Gwen asks, shoving Merlin's jacket at him and yanking him out of the door. He barely has time to lock it before she's pulling him down the stairs.
"With Arthur, no. Definitely hacking."
Gwen stops halfway through unlocking her car and looks at Merlin. "I'm starting to think double-dating wasn't such a good idea after all."
Merlin just grins and refrains from telling her that he finds Arthur in full businessman mode pretty hot.
—-
When Merlin moves in with Arthur everyone knows about it, because it causes so much bloody arguing. It gets to the point where Gwen threatens to hold an intervention if Merlin turns up at her door to complain about Arthur one more time, and even Uther deigns to tell Arthur that strife this early doesn't bode well for the relationship.
Gwen's threat falls on deaf ears; neither of them feel strong enough to ignore Uther.
Irony abounds when Arthur finally consents to discuss the matter with Merlin, rather than continuing to act as if his request is to be treated as a royal decree. Merlin feels it's his duty as the one with a sense of humour to point the irony out.
"You do realise that exactly a year ago today we were also arguing?"
Arthur stops glaring at the floor and frowns at Merlin. "We were?"
"The day before Gawain started school."
"Oh." Merlin waits for Arthur to dredge up the memory of what that argument was about, and smiles slightly at the stricken look on Arthur's face. "Oh. I'm still sorry about that, you know."
"That's not the issue here," Merlin replies, trying not to smile soppily. He partially succeeds, but only because it's impossible not to be soppy when Arthur looks like a kicked puppy. "The issue is me moving in."
The frown returns full force. "I don't see what the big deal is; it's only-"
"It's not 'only' anything, Arthur, it's you telling me I've got to give up working!" Arthur shoves his hands into his pockets, his slouch against the kitchen counter intensifying as he avoids looking at Merlin.
Why they do all their arguing in the room with the most potential missiles Merlin cannot fathom, but they should really stop. It's far too tempting to throw a spatula at Arthur right now.
"But your job was Gawain, and if I keep paying you to look after him now you're my boyfriend and moving in, it'll look weird!" Arthur looks defiantly at Merlin and blinks when he sees the soppy smile, finally let free. "What?"
"You called me your boyfriend. You hadn't said that yet."
"Yes I have. At Gawain's party."
Merlin shakes his head. "Gawain said it at his party, not you."
"Right. Well. I've said it now." Something warm and fuzzy, like the blanket they've got over the back of the sofa in the coziest sitting room, curls up in his chest and tells him it's not going anywhere for the foreseeable future, and maybe not forever. Merlin's smile gets a little smug, because he's had no problem using the word since Gawain had announced it with such pride.
Then the smile fades. "Arthur, I can't just stop working because I'm moving in."
"Why not?!" Arthur shouts it the same way he shouts at the people who work for him, like Merlin will go wide-eyed and acquiesce to his demand the way they always do.
"Because I'm not your sodding mistress!"
They glare at each other for a long moment, caught in a deadlock where neither of them wants to admit that the other one has a point, and then Merlin starts laughing. It seems so absurd, suddenly, all this arguing, and he can't see a point to it.
Merlin moves away from the table where he was sitting (he'd imagined this going so much worse, and thought he might need the extra protection of the solid wood), and walks to stand in front of Arthur, grinning fondly at this ridiculous man.
"You're an utter prat, you know that?" Arthur smiles a little wryly, hands moving from the depths of his pockets to rest on Merlin's hips, pulling him in closer.
"So you keep telling me."
"Look," says Merlin sternly, "I get why you want me to stop working, I really do, but I'm not going to." He presses a finger to Arthur's lips to stop the looming protests. "I will compromise, though."
Arthur narrows his eyes and speaks against Merlin's finger. "How, exactly?"
"I'll ask the Great Dragon for a desk job. Finding positions for other nannies, or something." Merlin moves his hand away from Arthur's mouth to his shoulder and waits while Arthur considers.
Finally Arthur sighs. "Fair enough." Merlin wraps him in a tight hug, grinning against Arthur's neck as Arthur's arms slide around him as well. "I was always going to lose this argument, wasn't I."
"Yup. Start as we mean to go on." Merlin smirks as Arthur pulls back enough to glare at him, then pulls away properly. "I should call him now, ask about switching over."
Merlin starts to move away, but turns back as Arthur's hand wraps around his wrist to keep him there. "What?"
"A year ago we were arguing about Gawain going to Camelot Academy, and I insulted you. This year we're arguing about you still working, and I think I probably insulted you by asking you to stop. What are we going to be arguing about next year?"
Arthur looks so openly worried, a rare thing for him, that Merlin darts in and kisses him softly. "Last year we hated each other. This year I'm moving in. Think about that instead."
He's halfway towards the bigger study to call the Great Dragon (actually his boss, called John, but he can't remember when he last heard that name used) when Merlin follows his own line of thought and ends up at—
Oh. He practically told Arthur they'd be getting married next year.
Merlin has a horrible image of Morgana and Gwen as bridesmaids in terrible dresses and shrugs it off. It's not as if Arthur will have taken him seriously.
—-
Morgana stares at Arthur in complete shock. This is not, apparently, a suitable expression for a fashionable dress shop, because she's getting a very disapproving look from one of the sales assistants. She shuts her mouth with an audible clack and tries to express her shock through her eyes only.
It works, if Arthur's shoulders hunching even more is anything to go by.
"You're asking me what?"
"If you think Merlin would say yes if I asked him to marry me." It's the same thing he said before, and this time Morgana is slightly more prepared to hear it. She doesn't have an expensive silk dress in her hands, for one thing. She takes Arthur's arm and drags him towards the changing rooms, snapping "Three dresses and he's my brother" at the scared-looking woman at the entrance.
Morgana pushes Arthur onto one of the plush chairs set out for the unfortunate women waiting while their friends (or shopping friends; they aren't the same thing at all) try on seemingly endless outfits. He looks up at her as she stands over him, hands on her hips.
"What's the problem? You were trying to get us together, with the telling me he's gay, and the mistletoe, and now you're angry with me?!"
"You've been together for two months, Arthur, and you've only known him for...fourteen! I'm not angry, I'm worried that you're moving too fast."
Arthur stands and starts to pace. Morgana knows from past experience that when he starts doing this he'll be at it for a while, so she shuts herself into a cubicle and starts trying on the first dress.
"I don't mean right here and now, obviously," comes Arthur's slight muffled voice from outside, "but if I were to ask him, what do you think he'd say?" Morgana steps out of the cubicle and turns in a circle. "No, it's hideous, entirely the wrong colour."
It's pale peach; Morgana smiles as she returns to try the second dress on, glad to see Arthur hasn't gone entirely mad.
Her voice is muffled this time, by several layers of silk and one of netting. "Honestly, I think he'd be shocked."
Arthur doesn't even bother to comment on the dress this time, just raises an eyebrow.
The third dress goes on with no accompanying comment from Arthur, leading Morgana to suspect he's finally learnt what she's been trying to teach him for years and is waiting for her to say something before leaping in again.
"What about this one?" Morgana is surprised at Arthur's expression when she steps out in the final possible choice - in this shop, at least. He's withdrawn a little, body language quiet and restrained as he paces, as if what she might add will carry considerable weight.
Morgana realises this is one of their few true brother-and-sister moments, and acts accordingly.
She stops Arthur's pacing with a gentle hand on his shoulder, smiling softly at him. "He would be surprised, I stand by that, but he'd also say yes."
Arthur looks at her with the boyish grin she knows is a large part of what makes him worth putting up with. "Really?"
"Yes. Just don't spring it on him right now, okay?" Arthur grins sheepishly and nods.
"I don't like him that much."
Morgana prods his ribs sharply, grinning at his yelp. "Don't lie to me."
"You should get that dress" is all Arthur says, which is both an agreement and a promise.
—-
Gawain, unlike Arthur and Merlin, adapts very quickly to having someone else living with him. Whereas Arthur still jumps at the sounds of Merlin coming home from work (desk job at the Albion Agency, as agreed), and still sometimes looks confused at three places laid for meals even after Merlin's been living with them for three months, Gawain has no such problems.
He's as likely to ask his dad for help with his homework as he is to ask Merlin to watch him practice his fencing, and always asks both of them to come to any school-related event.
It takes them a while to work out that he's sharing things out equally between them.
It takes them even longer to work out why, and by that time Gawain has already told all of his friends, and most of his teachers, that he's got two dads.
—-
Camelot Academy has a tradition of putting on pretentious and overblown Christmas productions, which holds even for Gawain's class. The previous year Merlin and Arthur had sat through the story of Babushka, played in all her glory by a little girl with glossy black hair and a voice like an angel.
Arthur had leant over and whispered halfway through that he wanted to strangle her, to which Merlin had hissed he couldn't because Gawain would kill him in return, that particular little girl being the one he refused to admit he had a crush on, in a five year old sort of way.
Arthur's reply had been that she reminded him of Morgana, and Merlin had had to bite the sleeve of his coat to stop himself laughing out loud.
This year it's The Nutcracker, which means Gawain's old flame is relegated to being a mouse, because apparently Clara has to be blonde. Gawain himself is the Nutcracker, unfazed by the favouritism probably because he's blond himself, and also because, as he sternly informed Merlin when he'd told them of his role, he doesn't like Viviene "at all anymore, because she's friends with Mordred, and definitely not in that way."
Merlin spends the show holding Arthur's hand between his own, at first because the whole atmosphere makes them feel intensely couple-y, and then because Arthur leans over between the first two acts and confides to Merlin in a painfully tight voice that Sophia has slipped in to sit a row in front of them.
On the stage in front of them Clara yells at Fritz as he steals the wooden Nutcracker prince and pretends to search for a nut, while in the darkness below him Merlin threads his fingers through Arthur's and tries to convey without words just how strongly he's there and not going anywhere.
Arthur leans over as Clara wakes up and screams in horror at seeing the Mouse King, rather fittingly played by Mordred, even if Gawain (and Arthur, and Merlin) say so. "If she wants to talk to me, will you stay?"
Merlin twists awkwardly in his seat so that Arthur can see the full force of his glare. "Have you been trained from birth to be this idiotic," he whispers harshly, and sees Arthur flinch. "There's no way I'm bloody leaving you alone with her."
By the end of the play Merlin's hand is cramped from how tightly Arthur is gripping it.
Gawain comes racing up to them as they wait in the foyer, still dressed in his Nutcracker uniform and smiling the same charming smile Merlin had once thought, and rightly so, that he needed to guard himself against from Arthur. They congratulate Gawain on an excellent performance, Merlin carefully making them walk and talk in order to get outside as quickly as possible.
They're almost at the door when a voice stops them. "Arthur, darling, leaving so soon?" Sophia steps into their line of view, quite obviously between them and the door. "I haven't had a chance to tell our son how good he was."
It's clearly an opening for Gawain to go to her; she even leans down a little, expecting a hug or even a kiss on the cheek.
Gawain, in one of his more disconcerting moments where he reminds Merlin of Arthur a little too much, simply looks at her and says "thank you."
Sophia's polished demeanour slips a little. Her smile has slightly too much disdain in it when she looks at Merlin for the perfect 'society woman' image she seems to be going for. "You must be the nanny. Merlin, isn't it?"
Behind Gawain's back Arthur's hand finds Merlin's again, and beyond the fact that it's the first time they've ever held hands in public Merlin can feel the desperation almost palpably coming from Arthur. He swings their hands forward enough to knock Gawain, and when he looks up Merlin raises an eyebrow and smiles.
Gawain's answering grin is sharp. He looks over at his mother and, with all the finesse of a precocious six year old who is far more comfortable with his father being gay than being married to a woman (or maybe just this one) tells her firmly:
"Yes, he's Merlin, but no, he's not 'the nanny'." He captures Sophia's soft but disparaging tone exactly, and Arthur's grip loosens slightly. "He's dad's boyfriend, so I've got two fathers, and they're both better than you!"
He fumbles for Arthur and Merlin's hands, the ones not still clasped tightly together, and uses them to pull the two men out into the cold car park. He stops, breathless, at their car, and all three turn to look back.
Sophia is still standing inside the foyer, although a few steps closer to the wide open doors as if she was about to follow them. Her velvet dress, in a shade of orange Morgana would no doubt have something scathing to say about, serves to highlight the whiteness her obvious anger has given her skin.
Merlin raises a hand and high-fives Gawain, fiercely proud of this boy who claims him as a dad even after such a short time.
"I thought I'd taught you better manners than that," says Arthur, sounding like he doesn't know whether to laugh or lecture.
"Dad. It was her."
Arthur opens his mouth to say something else, possibly even to tell Gawain off, but then he casts another look in Sophia's direction and sighs instead. He lifts a hand and smiles when Gawain high-fives him as well, before turning to Merlin and using the lapels of his coat to pull him close.
"Thank you for staying." Merlin isn't sure whether Arthur means this situation in particular, or just in general, but it doesn't matter because Arthur is kissing him in the car park of the Camelot Academy, hands warm against Merlin's neck and threading through his hair.
Gawain leaves them to it for two minutes before clearing his throat very pointedly.
Merlin pulls away and rests his forehead against Arthur's, smiling uncontrollably. "How long did you give us this time?"
"Two minutes, which is more than enough when it's this freezing."
"I knew it was a mistake to get him a watch for his birthday," Arthur says ruefully, and with that they pile into the car.
"I'll go straight to bed when we get home, make it up to you" is Gawain's comment as he fastens his seatbelt.
Arthur nearly drives into one of the school's large gateposts.
—-
Christmas is mostly the same as last years, except instead of dragging Arthur and Merlin underneath the mistletoe Gwen and Morgana spend a lot of time pulling them away from it.
That, and for once Uther has his secretary send his gifts over the day before. He also neglects to tell either his son or Merlin what, exactly, he's bought for Gawain this year, so when he reveals the pair of replica medieval swords there's a long moment of silence as Gawain slashes one experimentally.
Merlin leans away just in case.
"Dad, just how sharp are those?"
"Oh, don't worry," Uther says soothingly, looking remarkably mellow. That could be due to the large amount of brandy he's drunk, of course, that Merlin has absolutely not been helping him with because he's still slightly scared of Uther Pendragon. "They aren't sharp at all."
Arthur appropriates the second sword from its box and runs his thumb down the blade. He shows the unbroken skin to Merlin and his frown clears a little. "Hmm. I suppose he can keep them, in that case."
"Will you duel with me, Dad?" Gawain's face is lit with childish excitement, and Merlin knows the answer even before Arthur answers.
"Of course."
With a war cry more befitting a warrior king than a businessman Arthur leaps from his seat next to Merlin on the sofa and swings at Gawain. His son parries at precisely the right angle, deflecting Arthur's strike and moving in for one of his own. They spar up and down the room, Merlin delivering a kick to Arthur's backside when they get too close to where he's still sitting.
Morgana sends them out into the hall with a yell as one of Gawain's lunges goes wide and the tip of his sword reduces a glass bauble from the tree into a pile of shards, neither him nor Arthur noticing through their exhilarated laughter and equally boyish enthusiasm.
Merlin turns from watching their dramatic exit to find himself being stared at by Morgana, Lance, Gwen and Uther, all wearing 'how the hell do you put up with him' expressions.
Merlin just smiles and tries not to wince at a loud crash from the hall.
—-
Arthur falls ill just after Christmas, and Merlin ignores Uther's ranting and orders for the top specialists in every field to be contacted, making a frantic call to Dr. Gaius instead. His old boss arrives that same day, bringing with him a reassuring presence and weighty reputation that even Uther stands aside for.
He spends half an hour with Arthur, speaking in a low, measured voice as Arthur struggles to answer the gentle questions.
Uther leaves before the doctor is finished, unable to stand around doing nothing.
Arthur's last fully coherent words for almost a month are an apology for giving Merlin another shitty New Year. Merlin's too busy making sure he's comfortable and that Gawain knows not to get too close just in case to pay much attention, but Morgana later tells him quietly that Arthur had booked a weekend away for the two of them, Gawain more than happy to stay with her for a few days.
It's almost too much for Merlin to cope with, on top of Gaius' solemn expression and the possibility that Arthur might not recover. Gaius won't tell Merlin what's wrong, exactly; the medical explanation is something to do with a virus, and enzymes, and if he's honest Merlin doesn't really want to know anyway.
Merlin's just put a pale and quiet Gawain to bed when Gaius arrives bearing a plain brown file and looking a little less drawn. He holds the file out to Merlin, who takes it slowly.
"What's this?"
"Hope, possibly."
Merlin spreads the file out on the kitchen table, which is where for some reason he feels most comfortable at the moment. Gaius waits patiently while Merlin reads through the entire file, occasionally asking for clarification on a medical point.
He doesn't have to ask that much; he's learnt a lot over the course of Arthur's illness.
Finally he closes the file and looks at Gaius. "This could help?"
Gaius nods. "I've spoken to the doctor in charge of the trial, an old friend of mine. Geoffrey is more than prepared to start treatment tomorrow."
Merlin has to stand and walk around, running his hands over the furniture and fittings that are so familiar to him now. He knows, from a very stilted and uncomfortable few moments with Uther several days ago, that if the worst should happen he's the main beneficiary of Arthur's will. It's not something Merlin ever wanted to know, really, but it had stopped the vague worries he'd had.
Sophia's name had never come up, but Uther had very vehemently told Merlin that's unless he objected, custody of Gawain would be split between himself and Merlin.
"Of course I've got no fucking objections" may have been the only time Merlin will ever swear at Uther Pendragon, but neither of them had cared.
"And there's a 70% chance it'll cure him?" Merlin asks, more to try and stay focused than out of any real desire to know.
"Better, if Arthur's immune system reacts well."
"Then yes. Do it." Gaius sweeps Merlin up in an entirely unprofessional hug, smiling for the first time since he'd walked into Arthur's room to make a primary assessment. Merlin watches him pick up the phone and dial Geoffrey Monmouth, a physician almost as highly acclaimed as Gaius, and wonders if he's ever going to want to smile again.
**
Long, tension filled hours made short, it works.
Arthur's back on his feet within the week, fending off questions from Gawain about what it had felt like, being that ill, and complaining about the strict diet of mush that Gaius has him on.
Merlin feels like he's on the periphery for the first day or so, watching Arthur and his son reassure each other that everything's going to be okay. He makes what feels like more tea than he's ever made in his life for Gaius and Geoffrey (hanging around to make sure he sees the vital first hours of the recovery process), accepts Uther's silent thanks (conveyed via his eyebrows, oddly) and smiles whenever he sees Arthur watching him from over the top of Gawain's head.
Morgana and Gwen, fixtures in the house since Arthur had first fallen ill, convince an already suspicious Gawain that Arthur would like to spend some time with Merlin alone.
Merlin curls up on their (stupidly) large bed and wraps his arms around Arthur, feeling Arthur do the same to him. They cling to each other in that wordless way men have when they can't quite express the depth of their emotions, and while Merlin doesn't cry, precisely, his vision goes blurry for a while and the lump in his throat makes it difficult to breathe.
—-
Gawain makes all the arrangements for Valentines Day himself, sneaking around and making good use of Gwen and Morgana's continued interest in making sure Arthur and Merlin have a perfect night to themselves.
Arthur's protests that he'd much rather spend the evening at home with Merlin fall on four sets of deaf ears, Lance having been drafted in just in case they need extra muscle.
"Why might you need extra muscle?!"
"Because," Morgana answers sweetly, "you're still weak, and if you keep on refusing to give Merlin a proper Valentines Day, we can get Lance to carry you to the damn restaurant!"
Merlin looks up from where Gawain is teaching him the correct way to clean a sword and grimaces. "Morgana, I'd rather stay in as well, you know."
"I know you think you do, but Gwen and I think that you both need a night out."
"Oh, well, if both of you think so, how can we argue?" Arthur's sarcasm goes unheeded as Morgana smiles happily and sails off to tell Gwen their plan has been a success. Arthur looks incredulously at Merlin as the door closes behind his step-sister. "Did she take me seriously?"
"Yes," answers Merlin with a laugh, "and you agreed for me as well. I suppose we'll have to make the most of it."
Arthur sighs and stares at the pile of work he'd finally managed to persuade Merlin to let him have, pleading looming insanity due to the sudden shift from workaholic to doing nothing. "So long as it's not a French restaurant, fine."
Merlin tilts his head questioningly at Arthur, but it's Gawain who answers. "Mum always used to want to go to a French place." He's almost vicious with his swipes of the whetstone along the edge of his fencing rapier as he speaks. Merlin barely stops himself from wincing; having met Sophia, he can imagine the type of place, and would rather eat rat than step inside one. "We've booked a table at the Gedref Inn for you."
Arthur and Merlin share an amused look. "How do you know we like it there?" Merlin asks with no little trepidation. Goodness knows what Gawain's reasoning is; precocious he may be, but according to Arthur Merlin's influence is making him think more like a child.
"Dad took you there for your first proper date," answers the six year old, "and you both looked utterly wrecked the morning after." He grins up at them both, completely aware of what he's referring to that's put such a look of horror on the two adult's faces, and not caring a bit.
Needless to say, with that sort of recommendation, Valentines Day is a success.
—-
Arthur is completely recovered, the worries of January put far behind them by the time Spring bursts into bloom. Gwen is in a permanent good mood, trying to convince Merlin to take part in the local dramatics groups she's joined at some point. He pleads too much to do, claiming the Great Dragon has him working overtime to get a sudden influx of nannies needing new jobs paired off with suitable employers.
It works until she turns up unexpectedly to find him in the middle of a West Wing marathon with Arthur, laughing hysterically at Arthur's criticisms of various scenes.
"You told me you'd got too much work to help me," she says accusingly, hands on her hips. Merlin peers over the back of the sofa at her and wonders why he ever thought he could get away with it.
"Sorry. I'll get my coat."
Gwen nods approvingly and drags Arthur along for good measure, putting both of them to real work, as she terms it, making sets for the rather disconcertingly named play 'The Beginning of the End.'
"That'd better not be prophetic," Arthur mutters jokingly out of the corner of his mouth. Merlin rolls his eyes and flicks red paint at him in answer.
Spring also brings with it more trouble for Gawain. While Arthur and Merlin are painting backgrounds and moving sets around, Gawain gets quieter and stops being as enthusiastic as he usually is about school. It goes unnoticed, to everyone in his extended family's chagrin, until the opening night of the play.
Halfway through Gwen's big scene Gawain suddenly shrinks down in his seat and huddles into his jacket. Arthur looks down, startled by the action, and looks over at Merlin, sitting on the other side of Gawain.
"I'm getting déjà vu," Arthur whispers. Merlin scans the town hall they're sitting in.
"I don't see Sophia anywhere." Merlin wriggles down until he's at the same level as Gawain. "What's wrong?"
"Mr Chwilen's here," comes the faint reply from somewhere inside Gawain's coat.
"The new biology teacher?"
"Mhm."
Merlin sits up and leans over to tell Arthur what the matter is. Arthur frowns. "He's not mentioned any problems at school." They both look down at Gawain, watching Gwen's performance from between the shoulders of the people in front of him with the air of a boy ready to duck at a moment's notice. "Then again, we have been a bit busy."
Merlin nods his agreement and they each take hold of one of Gawain's hands, which makes him uncurl enough for Gwen to see and wave at him when she takes her bow at the end.
Back at home, wrapped in the comfiest blanket they own and safely ensconced between Merlin and Arthur, Gawain explains.
"He's a new teacher, which you'd think would make him less likely to be obvious about having favourites, or picking on specific kids, but it doesn't. He always chooses Mordred to help with all the experiments, or Viviene, and doesn't let the rest of us do anything fun like that."
"Have the other teachers noticed?"
Gawain shrugs. "I don't know. He's just as bad with them, that's the problem. He's trying to get Mr Perceval fired because of 'bad teaching methods', and it's working! He's on his final notice, and Mr Chwilen only started a month ago. And he's almost driven Madame Iseult, the art teacher, to quitting, and we thought she could handle anything after that trouble with her old boyfriend attacking Tristan!"
"How on earth do you know about that?"
"She told us. It's not every day your fiancé gets attacked by an old flame, and she wanted to tell us how brave he was."
"Oh. Right." Arthur glances at Merlin, who simply shrugs.
"Not everyone goes through a meeting with their lawyer before sharing information, Arthur."
Gawain looks up when Arthur doesn't reply with a comment of his own, like he expects. "Dad?"
"Do you know Mr Chwilen's first name?" Gawain looks a little worried, and Merlin doesn't blame him; the look on Arthur's face is making him nervous as well.
"Edwin, I think. Why?"
"Arthur, you can't get Gawain's teacher fired!"
"I can damn well try," Arthur replies as he strides towards his study. He says it with such strong assurance that Gawain sighs and stands up.
"I'm going to bed. There's no way to stop Dad when he gets into this mood; he'll get him fired whatever we say."
"Are you sure?" Merlin asks, hoping there's a way he can stop this.
"Don't you remember what he was like when you were moving in?"
That'd be a no on stopping Arthur, then.
Merlin debates the pros and cons of making a token effort, and decides against it. He does decide, however, to go and listen to Arthur ordering whichever unlucky lawyer he gets hold of to find out any dirty little secrets that Edwin Chwilen might have.
He leans in the doorway of Arthur's office, a wood-panelled and stupidly ostentatious room that hasn't changed much since it was built four hundred years ago, and watches Arthur pace behind his desk.
The call only lasts for a couple of minutes, Arthur delivering his demands with a swiftness and authority borne from years of training. As he'd once remarked to Merlin, he's been trained from birth to be a ruthless businessman.
"Which poor servant did you load that distasteful task onto?"
Arthur grins at him, the sharp and faintly feral grin that he wears after successful business deals and that never fails to make Merlin's blood run fast. "Kay. He needs the experience." Arthur walks purposely towards Merlin, still grinning, and Merlin makes one last attempt at getting his point across.
"You really shouldn't have done tha-" He breaks off as his back hits the panelling.
"Why don't you just say you find me irresistible when I'm all commanding and shouting at people, and leave it at that?"
"Isn't your ego big enough as it is?" Merlin says, voice not quite level as Arthur kicks the door shut, hands closing firmly on his hips and effectively pinning him to the wall.
A fierce kiss is all the answer Merlin gets.
—-
When Uther and Arthur fight, the whole company knows about it, and it takes them both at least a day to calm down.
It's just Merlin's bad luck that this time the fight happens to be about him, and that he's home when Arthur gets back. Arthur is still spoiling for a fight, and lays into Merlin when Merlin makes his customary deflection of a question about that old sore spot, Nimueh du Lac.
They end up screaming at each other for a good half hour before Merlin simply walks out.
Arthur yanks one of Gawain's fencing foils from the pile of his school stuff by the door and throws it at one of his ancestor's portraits. It lands solidly in the chin of his uncle Aurelius, quivering rapidly as Arthur slumps at the base of the great staircase and hangs his head as the anger is replaced with shame.
He's still there an hour later when Merlin returns, crossing the large entrance hall without a word and sitting at the opposite side of the stairs to Arthur. He sits side on, leaning against a banister post, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. He waits for Arthur to turn and face him before speaking.
"I'm only going to go through this once, so listen carefully." Merlin waits for Arthur's nod before he starts to continue. "About three- what happened to Aurelius?"
Arthur twists his head to look at the now-still foil. "I, um, was angry with myself for shouting at you."
Merlin lifts an eyebrow, almost smiling. "So you threw a sword at your uncle?"
"You're important" is all Arthur says, making a 'carry on' gesture. Merlin takes a deep breath.
"About three years ago I was working for Nimueh as her nanny, which I think everyone knows. She wasn't that bad to work for, actually; a bit intense, and I think some of her business dealings weren't quite legal, but that didn't really affect me."
"She got indicted last year, for insider trading."
"There you go, then." The beginnings of a smile appear at the corner of Merlin's mouth, and Arthur feels something painful in his chest ease up a fraction. "Anyway, like I said, that stuff didn't affect me. Until she got beaten to a deal by Elaine Corbenic."
"The woman who owns Grail Advertising?"
"That's the one."
"I'm not surprised she reacted badly; Corbenic isn't the nicest person in terms of her attitude towards the people she beats."
Merlin stretches his legs out, feeling himself calm down now that he's going through it. "Nimueh doesn't react well to being beaten, either. She wanted me to take a job as nanny to Galahad Corbenic, so that I could spy on his mother and get Nimueh information on the next deal Elaine was planning."
Arthur stares at Merlin. "Even by my father's standards that's wrong."
"I didn't agree, obviously. Besides it being wrong on just about every level, I knew Elaine already. She'd tried to get Lance to cheat on Gwen with her a few months previously, and when he refused she pretty much told all of our friends that he had, just to prove that she could."
Merlin looks so unhappy that Arthur scoots over to his side before he stops to think that Merlin might not want him so close right now, remembering in time to stop himself wrapping Merlin in a tight hug.
"Gwen believed Lance, obviously, but it still hurt them both for a long while." Merlin leans against Arthur's side, resting his head on Arthur's broad shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but it's not something I like to think about."
Arthur reminds himself that he's well able to defend himself against Merlin, just in case, and wraps his arms around the man. "I'm glad you told me, though. Now I can go shout at my father and tell him he's bloody wrong about you."
"Do I want to know what he's been saying?"
"No," Arthur says firmly, at which Merlin laughs. "You know what he's like. One hint of something suspicious and he's all for beheading some poor secretary."
"True."
Uther's intolerances are legend throughout Pendragon Holdings, and by association in the Pendragon extended family. Merlin lets Arthur pull him up and lead him towards the kitchen, putting up no resistance.
"If you're going to make me dinner by way of an apology..." Arthur looks at him with the dangerously sweet and pleading eyes he pulls out when Merlin attempts to deny him something, "then I suppose I can forgive you."
"Ha! And you tell me I'm rubbish at being sensitive." Arthur misses the despairing look Merlin gives him as he starts clattering pans around and sending Cook off to get various ingredients he's sure he needs (she will later whack him on the hand with a wooden spoon and send him to sit quietly with Merlin while she salvages the meal).
Gawain surfaces from his bedroom and makes his way to the kitchen just as Arthur burns himself with hot tomato sauce, to the mutual amusement of Cook and Merlin. He pulls a chair next to Merlin as close as it will go, and, in much the same way as Merlin had done to Arthur a short while before, leans against him.
What Arthur doesn't know, and never will, is that it was Gawain who called Merlin and asked him to come back.
Merlin kisses the top of Gawain's head and whispers a promise to not keep any more secrets.
—-
After such an eventful start to the year, Merlin hopes that the summer will pass by peacefully. He has high hopes that the biggest ripple in this calm will be Gawain's seventh birthday party, which he also hopes will involve less chicken nuggets than last year.
He also vetoes a piñata, just in case.
Even Arthur gets involved with this plan, slowly clearing his enormous workload in the weeks building up to Gawain breaking up for the summer holidays, and telling his father point blank that he's not taking on anything else until the Autumn Term starts.
This works well until Uther just happens to mention that Excalibur Motors are looking for a new partner, to which news Arthur reacts with a startled grin and Merlin with a roll of his eyes. Arthur cannot resist anything shiny, sharp or fast, something that Gawain has inherited, and Excalibur Motors produce cars which combine two out of the three.
Maybe even three out of three, if their new racing prototype turns out to really be as pointed as it looks on the plans Arthur unrolls for Merlin.
The negotiations, which take up most of the first three weeks of summer, are almost exclusively held by Arthur. He refuses to let any of the Pendragon staff of lawyers help him with more than the basic terms, preferring instead to actually talk to the engineers and workers to see what sort of thing they want.
Gawain is very philosophical about essentially losing his father for part of his holiday, mostly because Arthur brings him back a small die cast model of each car Excalibur Motors have ever made each time he returns from a meeting. They have to put up a new set of shelves in Gawain's room because there are a lot of cars and a lot of meetings.
Something else is going on, because Gwen keeps turning up at the house, apparently to 'keep Merlin company,' but in reality hiding herself away with Morgana to discuss something Top Secret. Occasionally Lance will come with her, but he gets relegated to actually keeping Merlin company and doesn't know anything about whatever is going on.
Gawain's party is, thankfully, painless, both in terms of ease of planning and bruises. Merlin points a warning finger at Galahad (thankfully brought by his father and not Elaine), who was the cause of a very painful bruise to Merlin's hip after his turn at the piñata last year, and sends him off to join Gawain and the other boys in another impromptu - but slightly better organised - game of cricket.
"Do they teach them any other sports at that fancy school," asks Gwen as she helps Merlin set out sandwiches of seemingly endless description on tables set out along the patio. Too much food had been trodden into the carpet last year, Arthur had decreed, and so the food is banished outside.
Luckily it's another gloriously hot day.
"It seems like all they do is play cricket."
"It's either that or hockey, and Arthur hasn't got round to having a pitch laid out yet," Merlin teases. He frowns when Gwen merely nods and moves on to uncovering bowls of salad. "Gwen, I was being sarcastic."
She nods distractedly. "Oh."
"Look, I can tell something's going on; you're not subtle."
Gwen looks at him and bites her lip, seemingly considering something carefully before she turns and runs into the house. Merlin watches her with the expression of someone who is resigned to never understanding the people he loves, and moves to help a group of kids requesting drinks after their rousing game of almost-cricket.
Complete silence behind him, broken only by a hastily smothered cough, makes him spin around. Morgana, Gwen and Lance are standing in a row in front of a lot of parents who should have gone once they'd dropped their children off- "Morgana, what are they still doing here?"
"We need witnesses," is her worrying answer. Merlin takes a step back, only to have Lance lunge forward and take firm hold of him.
"Sorry, Merlin, but I've got my orders," he says, looking anything but apologetic.
Merlin glares at Gwen. She smiles brightly, and then she and Morgana move to one side, revealing Arthur, who walks forward to stand right in front of Merlin.
And then goes down onto one knee.
Merlin pulls frantically against Lance's tight hold and shakes his head rapidly. "Nononono, Arthur, please tell me this is a joke, I was joking when I said we'd be arguing about this sort of thing in a year, I really was, I-"
"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur says with a smile. Merlin clamps his mouth shut. "It's obvious you already know what I'm going to ask, so there's really no need for the long speech Morgana and Gwen prepared for me."
The women make twin noises of protests, and Merlin glares again.
Arthur continues. "So, I suppose all that's left is for you to answer." Merlin gapes down at him, uncomfortably aware of the parents watching with sincere interest. A shout from down the garden makes Merlin close his eyes and wish Gawain had chosen to set up his game much further away in the several acres of parkland at his disposal.
He really doesn't want to have to do this in front of so many people, including Arthur's seven year old son. It should be private.
Then Gawain comes into his line of view, face alight with potential happiness as well as the simple joy of being the birthday boy. Merlin looks from him to an Arthur he remembers from this time last year, gilded by the sun and happy in the most uncomplicated way, and falls a little bit more in love.
"Prat."
Arthur's smile threatens to rival the sun as he stands smoothly and kisses Merlin hard. "Idiot."
Gawain almost knocks them both over as he throws himself at them, clinging tightly for a moment before pulling back with all the dignity of a seven year old and taking himself and his friends off to finish their game of almost-cricket.
Arthur waits until the cacophony of people congratulating them quietens down, and takes a box from Morgana. "It's not exactly traditional, but I though that would be appropriate for us." He opens the box and offers it to Merlin with a flourish.
Merlin takes one look and cuffs Arthur over the head.
"I'm not sure whether to be worried or insulted." Arthur manages to smirk and look sheepish at the same time as Merlin lifts the pair of vambraces out of their hollows, unable to help admiring the sheen of the metal.
"I was aiming for flattered," Arthur says, watching him with an expression leaving happy and veering into hungry as Merlin slides the left vambrace over his wrist.
"You got me armour instead of an engagement ring, Arthur. You were dead on when you said non traditional."
Arthur stills the fumbling of Merlin's fingers as he tries to fasten the catch, and does it himself with a quick twist. "Gawain wants to go pro with his fencing, you're going to need armour." He fastens the second catch, holding Merlin's hands together to get the full effect. Arthur grins up at him, and Merlin forgets why he ever thought he had to guard against that charmingly boyish smile.
Merlin pulls his hands out of Arthur's grip and loops his arms around Arthur's neck, leaning in close to say "is that so?"
"Yup. Start as we mean to go on, after all."
Merlin feels he is completely justified in resting the cold metal against the back of Arthur's neck as Arthur leans in to kiss him, and the resulting squeak more than makes up for the publicity of the whole affair.
Just like a Pendragon, Merlin thinks. Has to do everything over the top and far too fast.
The solid feel of Arthur's body against his as they hug tightly, and the sounds of Gawain yelling as he catches someone out, make him think this isn't such a bad thing after all.
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