An Unusual Portrait [1/1]
Title: An Unusual Portrait
Author: vamplover82
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Written for the kinkme_merlin prompt: Tradition dictates that every Pendragon has a portrait done in their image upon their 21st birthday. Uther commissions Merlin to paint Arthur's portrait but Arthur won't stop fidgeting because he has to wear all these heavy, uncomfortable outfits that have been preserved from their ancestors back in the Middle Ages. So Merlin offers to paint him nude instead."
Disclaimer: I don’t own Merlin, and this certainly isn’t true.
Author notes: Comments and con. crit. are much appreciated.
"This? Really?" Arthur tilted his head to the side a bit, hoping it would look better from a different angle. It didn't. "Isn't it a bit...old-fashioned?"
"Of course it's old-fashioned, Arthur. Our ancestors have been wearing this outfit in their portraits for generations." Uther gave him a stern glare.
"Can't I just wear my battle gear or something? I would look so much more-" Arthur paused for a moment, trying to think of the proper word, "princely."
"Nonsense. Our family has always been royalty at heart, and the portraits show that."
Arthur just barely refrained from rolling his eyes. He'd seen those portraits, and maybe one of them looked even remotely like royalty. "But-"
"Enough. You will not wear any other clothing for your portrait." Uther waved a hand imperiously, as if brushing aside all of Arthur's objections. "Now, get into this outfit quickly and get down to see the painter; you wouldn't want to keep him waiting."
Of course Arthur wanted to keep him waiting; Arthur wanted to keep him waiting indefinitely, but that wasn't really an option. As soon as his father was out the door, Arthur sighed and eyed the outfit with distaste. It was atrocious, really, a deep purple velvet thing with honest to God lace for a trim. Arthur had never worn anything with lace on it, not even as a child.
"Ivan!" Arthur yelled, and his manservant appeared a moment later. "Help me into this, this...monstrosity."
Ivan didn't comment, but Arthur was sure he must have agreed about the clothing. Still, it was rather quick work to get Arthur into it. Just looking down at himself, Arthur knew he did not want to get a glimpse into a mirror. What was worse than the look, though, was that the bloody thing began to itch almost the second Ivan had gotten the tunic settled over his shoulders.
Arthur waved Ivan off with a, 'make sure my armor is cleaned and polished,' before shifting his shoulders to minimize the itch and making his way purposefully to the chamber that had been set up for his portrait painting sessions. When he entered the room, he expected it to be virtually empty, as it had been when he had last been in it the day before. Instead, he found a disaster area. A couple of canvases were propped up along the walls of the room and pots of paint were scattered on every available surface (there was even one on the chair that was obviously set up for his use). There were several paintbrushes lying in a pile on the floor and a rather large easel with a stool behind it, and the man who was obviously the painter was perched on it.
He was...something to look at, really. Arthur knew that the man - and what was his name again? Melvyn? Mervyn? - had to be rather well off. He had been spoken of very highly by many of the noble families in Camelot, families who would have paid handsomely for the best portraits they could come by. Yet he didn't look as if he were anything more than a common servant. Had it not been for the paint spattering his tunic and breeches, Arthur might have assumed he was another new palace servant. And it didn't help at all that he looked to be no older than Arthur, if that. Then again, Arthur supposed, talent wasn't based upon age; after all, he could best knights far older than himself.
The painter - Merlin, that was it - was busy concentrating on his palette, so Arthur cleared his throat loudly. Merlin glanced up briefly but went straight back to whatever he was doing. Arthur, annoyed at being ignored, walked over to see what, exactly, was going on.
"What is so important that keeps you staring at that palette?" Arthur asked in his haughtiest tone.
"Only mixing colors, my lord. We wouldn't want you to end up looking like a yellow and blue blob, would we?" Merlin looked up at Arthur with an innocent expression on his face.
"Might be better than what I actually look like wearing this ridiculous thing," Arthur muttered to himself.
One side of Merlin's mouth curved up into a smirk, which was quickly hidden when he went back to mixing his paints. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable while I finish up here and then we'll get started."
Arthur nodded absently and moved the paint pot off his chair before trying to find a way to sit that didn't involve itching in inconvenient places. If he let Merlin work in silence, perhaps this would be done faster.
Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be the case at all. Merlin spent the better part of an hour just on mixing paints. Arthur sighed impatiently several times, but Merlin didn't even seem to notice. By the time Merlin finally set his palette down and stood, Arthur had begun scratching his thigh in an effort to ease the itching, although it wasn't working. At all.
That wasn't the end of the preparation, though. Merlin had to situate the chair in the proper light, and then he had to situate Arthur in a pose suitable for the portrait. Arthur was ready for the stupid thing to be finished by the time they were actually ready to begin.
"I'll need you to stay in this position as long as you can," Merlin pronounced before immediately concentrating on his canvas again.
Arthur did his best to sit still, but the infernal clothing was making that very difficult. When it became impossible not to move, Arthur tried to shift subtly. And that worked for a little while - well, Merlin didn't say anything about it, at any rate - but eventually Merlin shot a glare his way.
"You really must try to keep still, sire. The portrait won't look right if you move around too much."
Arthur took a deep breath and forced himself to stop moving again, which only worked for about a quarter of an hour; then he was back to shifting side to side and surreptitiously scratching his thighs. A moment later, Merlin lowered his arm and stepped around the easel, walking over to stand in front of Arthur.
"Look, is it really that difficult to sit still for a few hours? Because if it is, you might as well tell your father that this portrait will never be completed."
Arthur felt a flush rising in his cheeks, both annoyed at the audacity of this nobody and slightly embarrassed that he really couldn't seem to keep still. "That won't be necessary; I'll sit however I need to for however long you require."
Merlin looked a bit skeptical but nodded in acceptance before returning to his easel.
Arthur lasted longer that time than he had before, but it really just wasn't possible to keep still when he itched so terribly and had nothing to distract him. Oh, he thought about household matters and ran through his practice routine in his mind, but his own thoughts could only keep him occupied for so long while he was uncomfortable. Eventually he shifted so his right side was pressed into the chair and moved back and forth as discretely as he could. It obviously wasn't as discrete as he had hoped, though, because Merlin tossed his brush into the small basin of water at his feet a moment later.
"It's getting late and the light's going. Whatever your problem is, have it taken care of before tomorrow so that we can be in here for longer than a couple hours."
Arthur spluttered, wanting to say something scathing, but all he could seem to think about was getting out of his outfit, so instead of speaking, he rose and stalked out of the room. Less than five minutes later, he was in his chambers and sighing in relief as Ivan helped him out of the awful clothing.
***
The next day, unfortunately, went much the same. In desperation, Arthur began talking to Merlin, asking about where he had been before he came to Camelot (Mercia), where he came from (a small village called Ealdor), how he got started painting (a painter had come through their village, discovered his flair for the art, and taken him on as a student).
It was far from the most riveting conversation Arthur had ever had, and it wasn't long before he grew bored and started fidgeting again. Merlin noticed, of course, and glared at him once again.
"I thought you were going to be better today."
Arthur stood and stalked over to the easel and looked down at Merlin, who was perched on a stool and looking angry.
"First of all, I agreed to no such thing, and you have no authority to order me around."
Merlin rose from his stool and got right up in Arthur's face; he was obviously not one to be intimidated. "I do if you want this portrait to be finished. And sitting still is hardly a difficult thing; I've seen children able to do better than you."
"Well then why don't you go paint some children if I'm not good enough for you."
They were staring into each other's eyes, anger flitting between them, and then just as quickly as the tension had arisen, it seeped away. Suddenly, they were just stood close together and staring at one another.
"Really, Arthur." Arthur opened his mouth, ready to object to the familiarity from this stranger, but he was cut off. "Why can't you sit still for longer than ten minutes at a time?"
Arthur wasn't even sure why, but he felt inclined to answer with the truth. "This is the most uncomfortable clothing I've ever worn in my life. It itches so badly that I can't keep still."
Merlin's gaze softened even further, and his eyes swept quickly over Arthur's body. "Yes, I could see that. Don't you have anything else you could wear?"
"I've plenty other clothing; my father, however, has insisted that I not wear any clothing other than this for my portrait. Apparently it's a family tradition," Arthur said bitterly.
"I really won't be able to complete the portrait in anything like a timely manner if things continue like this." Merlin tapped his finger against his chin, looking thoughtful for a moment. "You say you're not allowed to wear any other clothing..."
"Yes, Merlin." Arthur sighed in exasperation; it's not like this was helping any, and the longer they sat there, the longer he had to be in the clothing.
"Well, I was just thinking...but you may not like it." Merlin gave him a dubious look, as if he were expecting a pre-emptive disagreement. Arthur said nothing, willing to at least entertain his suggestion, even if it were displeasing. "If you weren't wearing anything, you wouldn't be wearing any other clothing."
Arthur's eyes widened in surprise as Merlin looked away, a flush rising on his cheeks. "Are you...you're suggesting a nude painting as my portrait?"
"There's no need to sound so horrified; it was just an idea, and one that would allow you to be comfortable without defying your father."
"That's really not the kind of thing one should suggest to a Crown Prince." Arthur tried for stern, but he only managed to sound embarrassed, even to his own ears.
"It's not that outrageous a suggestion! I've done nudes before without having my models balking at me like offended virgins."
Arthur could feel that his face was completely red, and he strove to speak calmly. "I'm no offended virgin, but this portrait will be seen by all the nobles of Camelot, and very likely visitors to the kingdom as well. I can't afford to have it be anything untoward."
Both were silent for several long minutes before Merlin finally sighed. "Alright, but you really must try harder to hold your pose."
Arthur nodded and allowed Merlin to position him in the chair again, steeling himself against the urge to move.
***
Three days later, Arthur couldn't take it any longer. The mere thought of putting on the wretched outfit ever again had him ready to execute someone. Unfortunately, the someone responsible for his predicament was his father, so execution obviously wasn't feasible.
Over the course of those days, Arthur and Merlin had spent their time together alternately conversing in an attempt to distract Arthur and sniping at each other in frustration. On that day, Merlin glared at him for what seemed like the millionth time - though they'd only been there for an hour - and Arthur just couldn't stand it anymore.
"I'll do it."
"What?" Merlin looked up, confusion evident on his face.
"Your suggestion from before. It's obvious this is getting us nowhere, and I can't stand the thought of wearing this for even another minute."
Merlin's mouth was hanging open slightly. "O-okay. Um, I'll...a new canvas, yes. I'll get that set up and you can-" He broke off, gesturing vaguely at Arthur's body.
Arthur nodded and waited until Merlin had turned away to begin undressing. Normally, he'd have called Ivan in to help him, but this really wasn't the type of situation he wanted more people around for, even if it was only his manservant, who was used to seeing him naked anyway.
Merlin was finished with setting up his new canvas when Arthur finally yanked off the trousers, feeling relief and an urge to hide in equal measure. Which was ridiculous, of course; Merlin was just here to do a portrait and he was a professional. Arthur straightened up completely, determined not to be ashamed of his nudity, especially not when it was going to get him out of wearing that clothing indefinitely. Merlin was obviously feeling awkward about the situation as well, as he didn't seem to be able to meet Arthur's eyes and touched Arthur a bit reluctantly when shifting his body into the proper pose.
It was much easier to maintain the pose now that he was free of the itchy garments, and the rest of the time spent with Merlin that day was more relaxed than it had been since the painting had begun. They talked a little, when Merlin had enough concentration to spare for it, and it was honestly the most pleasant afternoon Arthur had spent in a good while. It was with a small amount of reluctance that he sloppily threw his clothing back on at the end of the afternoon and took his leave.
***
For the next month or so, they kept to that pattern. Arthur would undress the moment they were alone, and Merlin would paint. They would talk, and Arthur even began to feel like he was making something of a friend in Merlin. Then again, it was difficult to think of someone who saw him naked so often as anything other than a friend; even Ivan rarely saw him completely naked.
Once in awhile, Arthur would convince himself that he shouldn't be doing this. He'd go to Merlin's workroom, set on telling Merlin to begin all over again, this time painting him in clothing. But then he'd get there and Merlin would look at him expectantly, and Arthur couldn't bring himself to say anything. He would just undress under Merlin's surreptitious gaze, and everything would be back to normal.
Everything was fine - going along swimmingly, really - until one day, when an unlikely set of circumstances went and mucked it all up. Arthur had been running himself a bit ragged for a few days straight, trying to get everything done when he was suddenly expected to spend every free moment he had hunting down a sorcerer his father was sure had been wreaking havoc in the lower town. But since he still had his other duties to attend to as well, it was a harrowing few days.
The extra duties had left him with both a lack of time and energy for more...personal pursuits. And then, naturally, he'd accidentally walked in on one of the visiting noblewomen bathing. He'd been grateful at the time to have places to be since she'd been throwing herself at him the entire time she'd been in Camelot. Not that it wasn't flattering or that she wasn't beautiful, but she was hinting a bit too much about marriage, which he was not interested in at all at the moment.
The upshot of it was, though, that the image tended to pop into his head at the most inopportune times, one of those being when he was busy divesting himself of his clothing to sit for Merlin. And as if that wasn't bad enough, Merlin couldn't seem to find the proper position. His hands seemed to be everywhere as he manipulated Arthur's body into place. The next minute, they really were everywhere, a hand grasping Arthur's inner thigh and brushing against his cock.
Arthur was suddenly so, so hard, and Merlin was just staring at it, his mouth open slightly. Arthur let out some strangled sort of noise, and Merlin backed away abruptly, flushed to the tips of his ears. Although he retreated behind his easel rather quickly, Arthur could still make out the bulge in his trousers.
Arthur took a deep breath, making sure not to move, and tried to think of something, anything really, that would get rid of his inconvenient problem. The thing was that every time he managed to begin to soften a bit, Merlin would peer around the easel at him, and just knowing the Merlin was seeing him like that would keep him hard. It went on like that for the rest of the afternoon, and now Arthur had a whole new reason to want to squirm in his seat. He valiantly resisted, though, and when they were finished for the day, Merlin offered to give him a bit of privacy while making a familiar gesture.
Arthur choked, managing to spit out a 'yes, thank you.' Merlin was out of the room in seconds, and Arthur's hand was on his cock the moment the door was shut. It only took a few firm tugs before he was coming all over his fist and belly, groaning in relief. He was dressed within minutes, and he opened the door to see Merlin lurking only a few feet away.
Arthur scowled on reflex only since, rather than being annoyed that Merlin must have overheard him, he found his stomach was swooping and his cock twitching again with arousal, despite the fact that he'd just come. Merlin, however, looked totally unrepentant and even had the audacity to grin a bit. Arthur's lip quirked up, and he hurried away before Merlin caught him smiling back.
The next afternoon, Arthur promised himself that he would not let the events of the previous day affect anything. They could just carry on as they had been, and everything would be fine. That would have been a brilliant plan, except that Merlin was, if anything, emboldened by it all. He shamelessly watched as Arthur undressed, and though it was having the same effect on Arthur as it had the day before, Arthur couldn't bring himself to want to keep his clothing on.
In fact, he may have deliberately turned so that Merlin would get the best view as clothing was shed and discarded. Merlin was hard once again as well, but this time, he made no effort to hide it. He took his time arranging Arthur again, and Arthur's eyes were drawn to Merlin's crotch, which seemed to be at eye level the entire time.
The next couple of hours were sheer torture, their glances heated and their conversation extremely stilted. Arthur longed to do a dozen different things, all of them involving either touching himself or touching Merlin. He forced himself to behave, though, and just sat there, thinking of everything he'd like to do. By the time the sunlight coming in the window had begun to fade, Arthur decided he couldn't and didn't want to wait anymore.
He allowed his hand to creep slowly over his thigh, until it was just brushing his cock. Merlin coughed a bit but didn't say anything to indicate that Arthur should stop. So Arthur continued on, fisting his cock loosely at first and just stroking himself a couple of times. Merlin's paintbrush fell to the floor, and Arthur let his eyes stray in that direction. Merlin's mouth was hanging open, and he looked moments away from either pouncing Arthur or running away.
Arthur brought his other hand into it, hefting his balls lightly and rolling them in his palm. He let out a small grunt at the pleasure that shot through him, and Merlin took an unconscious step toward Arthur, looking a bit surprised that he'd moved.
"Come on then, already. I don't want to be the only one finishing here."
Merlin still seemed unsure of what he should be doing, but another tentative few steps in Arthur's direction and loosening the laces on his trousers probably meant that this was going in the direction Arthur hoped it would. And sure enough, Merlin only stopped once he was standing between Arthur's legs, and then he let his trousers drop, leaving Arthur's face mere inches from Merlin's cock.
As much as Arthur wanted to touch it, he also didn't want to stop touching himself. He was debating the matter when Merlin solved it by grabbing his own cock and started pulling on it roughly, matching his rhythm to Arthur's. All Arthur could do was stare, watching as Merlin's foreskin slid up over the head of his cock and back down. It glistened with pre-come, and Arthur had the strange urge to lean forward for a taste. He resisted, however, finally looking up when Merlin's breath hitched to see Merlin slack-jawed with his eyes fixed on Arthur's cock.
Just knowing that Merlin was watching caused Arthur's hips to lurch upward involuntarily, and suddenly, he was coming all over his hand, and some even dripped onto the floor. He closed his eyes and slumped down in his chair to catch his breath, and after a moment, he felt something wet hit his collarbone. Opening his eyes the slightest bit, he saw Merlin's cock twitch as Merlin rode out his orgasm.
Arthur shivered as he realized what it must be that was running slowly down his chest. He brushed his fingers over his collarbone and they came away sticky. Without giving it much thought, he brought them to his mouth, licking them clean. It was kind of disgusting, really, but worth it to hear the groan Merlin let out at the sight. Before long, Arthur began looking for something to clean up with, and Merlin shoved his neckerchief into Arthur's hand.
Arthur cleaned up and handed it back, dressing in silence as Merlin did the same. When he was finished, he headed for the door, pausing only for a second before leaving. "See you tomorrow?" he asked.
"Tomorrow," Merlin replied.
***
The following day, Arthur couldn't manage anything other than sheer awkwardness. If he'd thought things would be strange after Merlin heard him pleasuring himself, it had nothing on how things actually were after they'd done so together. Still, he thought after an hour's worth of silence, he'd overcome the initial embarrassment of being painted nude; there was no reason for embarrassment now.
With that in mind, he forced himself to talk as they had been before, telling Merlin about the latest training mishaps, court gossip, and anything else that came to mind. To his surprise, it actually worked, and the tenseness that had permeated the room dissipated until they were bantering easily about Merlin's messiness and Arthur's general inability to keep still for any length of time.
"I've been doing really well since we did away with those hideous rags!" Arthur waved a hand dismissively in the direction of his outfit. "You even said so last week. It's not my fault I can't keep still when you're touching me every hour-" He cut himself off abruptly, remembering all the touching they'd done the day before and flushing.
It was true, though; Merlin had been touching him more that day than usual, and Arthur couldn't help but imagine Merlin touching him more intimately after they were done for the day. Arthur's cock started to harden, and judging by the strangled sound Merlin made, he'd noticed.
After a few minutes, Merlin spoke, but Arthur was so caught up in his thoughts that he missed what was said. "Hmm, what was that?" His fingers twitched on his thigh, longing to take hold of his erection.
"Are you going to want me to include your," he gestured to Arthur's groin, "hardness in the portrait? It sort of needs to be either hard or…not in order for me to finish properly."
It was on the tip of Arthur's tongue to say no, of course not, why would he want that in the portrait. And then he really thought about what it would mean if he said no. He'd have to manage not to get hard anymore during their afternoons together, which, with the way things were going, would not be easy to do. On the other hand, if he said yes, there was not only an excuse for it every day, but there was also a greater likelihood that his afternoons would end as the previous one had.
"Yes," in a far rougher voice than intended, was out almost before Arthur realized he had made the decision.
Merlin nodded, and the only indication that he was affected was the redness of his ears. This, Arthur decided, was going to be brilliant.
***
It was, indeed, brilliant. Time seemed to positively fly by when he was spending nearly every afternoon in Merlin's company. Afternoons became the time of day Arthur most looked forward to. Not only was he free of the constraints he was under when in the presence of members of the court or citizens of Camelot, but his relationship with Merlin became more intimate both physically and emotionally as time went on.
Which was why, nearly three and a half months after Merlin had started the painting, Arthur found himself a bit devastated when Merlin pronounced the portrait finished. As stupid as it sounded, Arthur hadn't really contemplated what would happen when it was done. Would Merlin just up and move on, heading to the next noble willing to pay his price for a portrait? Arthur supposed that he would; it wasn't as if he could stay in Camelot and hope to make the kind of living he could if he traveled throughout the neighboring kingdoms.
Arthur put those thoughts out of his mind for the moment, more intent on the possibility of seeing the painting. "Well, can I see it or not?" he asked as soon as Merlin had set his paintbrush down.
Merlin thought about it for a moment before nodding, but just as Arthur got round to the other side of the easel, Merlin snuck an arm around his waist and palmed his cock, causing Arthur to completely forget the portrait for awhile in favor of getting Merlin naked. It wasn't until Merlin was rubbing his cock against Arthur's hip and had two fingers thrusting in and out of Arthur in a steady but slow pace that he remembered to look at it.
"Look at you," Merlin said, nodding slightly toward the painting. "You're bloody gorgeous. Well-defined chest." He ran his other hand across Arthur's chest, pausing only to pinch Arthur's nipples a few times before continuing lower. Arthur's eyes automatically sought out the features Merlin was highlighting on the portrait. "Taut abdomen." Lower still. "Thick cock." Arthur shuddered. "Full balls." With a gentle squeeze to said appendages and firm fingers brushing his prostate, Arthur came, his ejaculate narrowly missing the corner of the portrait.
Merlin pulled his fingers free of Arthur's body and grasped his waist tightly, thrusting against Arthur only a few more times before coming all over his lower back an arsecheeks. They slumped against each other for several minutes before cleaning up and dressing again.
That finished, Arthur took another look at his portrait, lending it a more critical eye this time. The detail was exquisite, right from the expression on his face (mildly turned on) down to the vein on the underside of his cock. It was obvious why Merlin was paid so well and had his pick of clients.
"What will you do now?" Arthur hadn't meant to say it, but now that it was out there, he really wanted to know the answer.
Merlin busied himself cleaning his brushes, and Arthur's hopes sank. "I don't know. Move on, I suppose. I have to make a living somehow."
"You'll stay through the unveiling, though, yes?"
Merlin smiled slightly. "Of course. If nothing else, I would want to stick around to see everyone's reactions. Although," Merlin suddenly looked worried, "your father won't have me imprisoned for this or something, will he? Maybe I should leave early."
"Nonsense," Arthur said with a conviction he didn't entirely feel. "He never said you shouldn't paint something like this, and I obviously went along with it. He may not like it, but he'd hardly have you imprisoned for it."
Merlin didn't look like he really believed that, but he didn't say anything else about it, either.
***
The unveiling of Arthur's portrait took place three days later, after an elaborate feast prepared for the occasion. Merlin was actually wearing clothing befitting his station in life, yet he looked almost as uncomfortable as Arthur had felt wearing that ridiculous outfit for the portrait. He also looked substantially better in his clothing than Arthur had, and Arthur had trouble keeping from staring at him the entire evening. Well, until the time came for the portrait to be shown, that is.
Arthur stood next to Merlin, surreptitiously placing himself slightly in front of the other man, just in case he was wrong and his father did try to do something to Merlin. He stood as tall as possible, his hands clenched together behind his back as a servant removed the sheet covering the painting.
There were gasps of shock from almost everyone gathered around, and also the thud of at least one lady fainting. Arthur fought not to blush and failed miserably, but he felt a little better when he noticed that Merlin was flushed as well. A moment later, Uther whirled around to face them, and Arthur inched even further in front of Merlin.
"What is the meaning of this?" Uther hissed angrily as he stalked over to stand right in front of Arthur. "This is not-" He turned as the noise level increased behind him. "Someone cover that painting!" He faced Arthur and Merlin again. "You two, come with me."
Uther stalked to an adjoining chamber, and Arthur and Merlin followed meekly behind, Arthur trying to figure out what to say. "Father, I-" he began as soon as the door was shut behind them.
"No, I don't want to hear it. That...painting was not the portrait I commissioned, and it was certainly not something that should have been shown to anyone at all, let alone the entire court." He pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. "Why weren't you wearing the clothing I told you to wear?"
"You told me I wasn't to wear any other clothing, and that was so uncomfortable I couldn't wear it and remain still enough for the portrait to be completed. So I…didn't wear any other clothing, and the portrait was completed."
Uther and Arthur stared at each other for a long moment while Merlin at Arthur's side and Arthur worried that his father would do something rash. Finally, Uther looked over at Merlin, who seemed surprised to suddenly be the focus of attention. "You will redo the portrait so it is appropriate to hang with our family portraits. And you," he faced Arthur again, "will find some appropriate attire that is comfortable enough to allow you to sit for the portrait. Now go, both of you, and I expect you to begin work on the new portrait tomorrow."
Arthur and Merlin nodded and hurried toward the door, but they didn't quite make it before Uther spoke again. "And take that...painting with you. I don't want to see it again."
And then they were through the door and in the hall again, which had pretty well cleared out since the portrait had been uncovered. Arthur sighed in relief and glanced over at Merlin, who looked just as relieved as Arthur felt. Arthur stared at the once again covered painting as a wonderful thought struck him. If the portrait had to be redone, Merlin would be around for at least another few months. Although he was extremely pleased inwardly, he let it show only in a small smile.
"Would you care to join me in my chambers this evening?" A certain amount of trepidation accompanied the question given that they'd never spent the night together, but Arthur didn't let it show. And there was obviously no need for it at all, judging by the grin on Merlin's face as he answered.
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be."
Author: vamplover82
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Written for the kinkme_merlin prompt: Tradition dictates that every Pendragon has a portrait done in their image upon their 21st birthday. Uther commissions Merlin to paint Arthur's portrait but Arthur won't stop fidgeting because he has to wear all these heavy, uncomfortable outfits that have been preserved from their ancestors back in the Middle Ages. So Merlin offers to paint him nude instead."
Disclaimer: I don’t own Merlin, and this certainly isn’t true.
Author notes: Comments and con. crit. are much appreciated.
"This? Really?" Arthur tilted his head to the side a bit, hoping it would look better from a different angle. It didn't. "Isn't it a bit...old-fashioned?"
"Of course it's old-fashioned, Arthur. Our ancestors have been wearing this outfit in their portraits for generations." Uther gave him a stern glare.
"Can't I just wear my battle gear or something? I would look so much more-" Arthur paused for a moment, trying to think of the proper word, "princely."
"Nonsense. Our family has always been royalty at heart, and the portraits show that."
Arthur just barely refrained from rolling his eyes. He'd seen those portraits, and maybe one of them looked even remotely like royalty. "But-"
"Enough. You will not wear any other clothing for your portrait." Uther waved a hand imperiously, as if brushing aside all of Arthur's objections. "Now, get into this outfit quickly and get down to see the painter; you wouldn't want to keep him waiting."
Of course Arthur wanted to keep him waiting; Arthur wanted to keep him waiting indefinitely, but that wasn't really an option. As soon as his father was out the door, Arthur sighed and eyed the outfit with distaste. It was atrocious, really, a deep purple velvet thing with honest to God lace for a trim. Arthur had never worn anything with lace on it, not even as a child.
"Ivan!" Arthur yelled, and his manservant appeared a moment later. "Help me into this, this...monstrosity."
Ivan didn't comment, but Arthur was sure he must have agreed about the clothing. Still, it was rather quick work to get Arthur into it. Just looking down at himself, Arthur knew he did not want to get a glimpse into a mirror. What was worse than the look, though, was that the bloody thing began to itch almost the second Ivan had gotten the tunic settled over his shoulders.
Arthur waved Ivan off with a, 'make sure my armor is cleaned and polished,' before shifting his shoulders to minimize the itch and making his way purposefully to the chamber that had been set up for his portrait painting sessions. When he entered the room, he expected it to be virtually empty, as it had been when he had last been in it the day before. Instead, he found a disaster area. A couple of canvases were propped up along the walls of the room and pots of paint were scattered on every available surface (there was even one on the chair that was obviously set up for his use). There were several paintbrushes lying in a pile on the floor and a rather large easel with a stool behind it, and the man who was obviously the painter was perched on it.
He was...something to look at, really. Arthur knew that the man - and what was his name again? Melvyn? Mervyn? - had to be rather well off. He had been spoken of very highly by many of the noble families in Camelot, families who would have paid handsomely for the best portraits they could come by. Yet he didn't look as if he were anything more than a common servant. Had it not been for the paint spattering his tunic and breeches, Arthur might have assumed he was another new palace servant. And it didn't help at all that he looked to be no older than Arthur, if that. Then again, Arthur supposed, talent wasn't based upon age; after all, he could best knights far older than himself.
The painter - Merlin, that was it - was busy concentrating on his palette, so Arthur cleared his throat loudly. Merlin glanced up briefly but went straight back to whatever he was doing. Arthur, annoyed at being ignored, walked over to see what, exactly, was going on.
"What is so important that keeps you staring at that palette?" Arthur asked in his haughtiest tone.
"Only mixing colors, my lord. We wouldn't want you to end up looking like a yellow and blue blob, would we?" Merlin looked up at Arthur with an innocent expression on his face.
"Might be better than what I actually look like wearing this ridiculous thing," Arthur muttered to himself.
One side of Merlin's mouth curved up into a smirk, which was quickly hidden when he went back to mixing his paints. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable while I finish up here and then we'll get started."
Arthur nodded absently and moved the paint pot off his chair before trying to find a way to sit that didn't involve itching in inconvenient places. If he let Merlin work in silence, perhaps this would be done faster.
Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be the case at all. Merlin spent the better part of an hour just on mixing paints. Arthur sighed impatiently several times, but Merlin didn't even seem to notice. By the time Merlin finally set his palette down and stood, Arthur had begun scratching his thigh in an effort to ease the itching, although it wasn't working. At all.
That wasn't the end of the preparation, though. Merlin had to situate the chair in the proper light, and then he had to situate Arthur in a pose suitable for the portrait. Arthur was ready for the stupid thing to be finished by the time they were actually ready to begin.
"I'll need you to stay in this position as long as you can," Merlin pronounced before immediately concentrating on his canvas again.
Arthur did his best to sit still, but the infernal clothing was making that very difficult. When it became impossible not to move, Arthur tried to shift subtly. And that worked for a little while - well, Merlin didn't say anything about it, at any rate - but eventually Merlin shot a glare his way.
"You really must try to keep still, sire. The portrait won't look right if you move around too much."
Arthur took a deep breath and forced himself to stop moving again, which only worked for about a quarter of an hour; then he was back to shifting side to side and surreptitiously scratching his thighs. A moment later, Merlin lowered his arm and stepped around the easel, walking over to stand in front of Arthur.
"Look, is it really that difficult to sit still for a few hours? Because if it is, you might as well tell your father that this portrait will never be completed."
Arthur felt a flush rising in his cheeks, both annoyed at the audacity of this nobody and slightly embarrassed that he really couldn't seem to keep still. "That won't be necessary; I'll sit however I need to for however long you require."
Merlin looked a bit skeptical but nodded in acceptance before returning to his easel.
Arthur lasted longer that time than he had before, but it really just wasn't possible to keep still when he itched so terribly and had nothing to distract him. Oh, he thought about household matters and ran through his practice routine in his mind, but his own thoughts could only keep him occupied for so long while he was uncomfortable. Eventually he shifted so his right side was pressed into the chair and moved back and forth as discretely as he could. It obviously wasn't as discrete as he had hoped, though, because Merlin tossed his brush into the small basin of water at his feet a moment later.
"It's getting late and the light's going. Whatever your problem is, have it taken care of before tomorrow so that we can be in here for longer than a couple hours."
Arthur spluttered, wanting to say something scathing, but all he could seem to think about was getting out of his outfit, so instead of speaking, he rose and stalked out of the room. Less than five minutes later, he was in his chambers and sighing in relief as Ivan helped him out of the awful clothing.
***
The next day, unfortunately, went much the same. In desperation, Arthur began talking to Merlin, asking about where he had been before he came to Camelot (Mercia), where he came from (a small village called Ealdor), how he got started painting (a painter had come through their village, discovered his flair for the art, and taken him on as a student).
It was far from the most riveting conversation Arthur had ever had, and it wasn't long before he grew bored and started fidgeting again. Merlin noticed, of course, and glared at him once again.
"I thought you were going to be better today."
Arthur stood and stalked over to the easel and looked down at Merlin, who was perched on a stool and looking angry.
"First of all, I agreed to no such thing, and you have no authority to order me around."
Merlin rose from his stool and got right up in Arthur's face; he was obviously not one to be intimidated. "I do if you want this portrait to be finished. And sitting still is hardly a difficult thing; I've seen children able to do better than you."
"Well then why don't you go paint some children if I'm not good enough for you."
They were staring into each other's eyes, anger flitting between them, and then just as quickly as the tension had arisen, it seeped away. Suddenly, they were just stood close together and staring at one another.
"Really, Arthur." Arthur opened his mouth, ready to object to the familiarity from this stranger, but he was cut off. "Why can't you sit still for longer than ten minutes at a time?"
Arthur wasn't even sure why, but he felt inclined to answer with the truth. "This is the most uncomfortable clothing I've ever worn in my life. It itches so badly that I can't keep still."
Merlin's gaze softened even further, and his eyes swept quickly over Arthur's body. "Yes, I could see that. Don't you have anything else you could wear?"
"I've plenty other clothing; my father, however, has insisted that I not wear any clothing other than this for my portrait. Apparently it's a family tradition," Arthur said bitterly.
"I really won't be able to complete the portrait in anything like a timely manner if things continue like this." Merlin tapped his finger against his chin, looking thoughtful for a moment. "You say you're not allowed to wear any other clothing..."
"Yes, Merlin." Arthur sighed in exasperation; it's not like this was helping any, and the longer they sat there, the longer he had to be in the clothing.
"Well, I was just thinking...but you may not like it." Merlin gave him a dubious look, as if he were expecting a pre-emptive disagreement. Arthur said nothing, willing to at least entertain his suggestion, even if it were displeasing. "If you weren't wearing anything, you wouldn't be wearing any other clothing."
Arthur's eyes widened in surprise as Merlin looked away, a flush rising on his cheeks. "Are you...you're suggesting a nude painting as my portrait?"
"There's no need to sound so horrified; it was just an idea, and one that would allow you to be comfortable without defying your father."
"That's really not the kind of thing one should suggest to a Crown Prince." Arthur tried for stern, but he only managed to sound embarrassed, even to his own ears.
"It's not that outrageous a suggestion! I've done nudes before without having my models balking at me like offended virgins."
Arthur could feel that his face was completely red, and he strove to speak calmly. "I'm no offended virgin, but this portrait will be seen by all the nobles of Camelot, and very likely visitors to the kingdom as well. I can't afford to have it be anything untoward."
Both were silent for several long minutes before Merlin finally sighed. "Alright, but you really must try harder to hold your pose."
Arthur nodded and allowed Merlin to position him in the chair again, steeling himself against the urge to move.
***
Three days later, Arthur couldn't take it any longer. The mere thought of putting on the wretched outfit ever again had him ready to execute someone. Unfortunately, the someone responsible for his predicament was his father, so execution obviously wasn't feasible.
Over the course of those days, Arthur and Merlin had spent their time together alternately conversing in an attempt to distract Arthur and sniping at each other in frustration. On that day, Merlin glared at him for what seemed like the millionth time - though they'd only been there for an hour - and Arthur just couldn't stand it anymore.
"I'll do it."
"What?" Merlin looked up, confusion evident on his face.
"Your suggestion from before. It's obvious this is getting us nowhere, and I can't stand the thought of wearing this for even another minute."
Merlin's mouth was hanging open slightly. "O-okay. Um, I'll...a new canvas, yes. I'll get that set up and you can-" He broke off, gesturing vaguely at Arthur's body.
Arthur nodded and waited until Merlin had turned away to begin undressing. Normally, he'd have called Ivan in to help him, but this really wasn't the type of situation he wanted more people around for, even if it was only his manservant, who was used to seeing him naked anyway.
Merlin was finished with setting up his new canvas when Arthur finally yanked off the trousers, feeling relief and an urge to hide in equal measure. Which was ridiculous, of course; Merlin was just here to do a portrait and he was a professional. Arthur straightened up completely, determined not to be ashamed of his nudity, especially not when it was going to get him out of wearing that clothing indefinitely. Merlin was obviously feeling awkward about the situation as well, as he didn't seem to be able to meet Arthur's eyes and touched Arthur a bit reluctantly when shifting his body into the proper pose.
It was much easier to maintain the pose now that he was free of the itchy garments, and the rest of the time spent with Merlin that day was more relaxed than it had been since the painting had begun. They talked a little, when Merlin had enough concentration to spare for it, and it was honestly the most pleasant afternoon Arthur had spent in a good while. It was with a small amount of reluctance that he sloppily threw his clothing back on at the end of the afternoon and took his leave.
***
For the next month or so, they kept to that pattern. Arthur would undress the moment they were alone, and Merlin would paint. They would talk, and Arthur even began to feel like he was making something of a friend in Merlin. Then again, it was difficult to think of someone who saw him naked so often as anything other than a friend; even Ivan rarely saw him completely naked.
Once in awhile, Arthur would convince himself that he shouldn't be doing this. He'd go to Merlin's workroom, set on telling Merlin to begin all over again, this time painting him in clothing. But then he'd get there and Merlin would look at him expectantly, and Arthur couldn't bring himself to say anything. He would just undress under Merlin's surreptitious gaze, and everything would be back to normal.
Everything was fine - going along swimmingly, really - until one day, when an unlikely set of circumstances went and mucked it all up. Arthur had been running himself a bit ragged for a few days straight, trying to get everything done when he was suddenly expected to spend every free moment he had hunting down a sorcerer his father was sure had been wreaking havoc in the lower town. But since he still had his other duties to attend to as well, it was a harrowing few days.
The extra duties had left him with both a lack of time and energy for more...personal pursuits. And then, naturally, he'd accidentally walked in on one of the visiting noblewomen bathing. He'd been grateful at the time to have places to be since she'd been throwing herself at him the entire time she'd been in Camelot. Not that it wasn't flattering or that she wasn't beautiful, but she was hinting a bit too much about marriage, which he was not interested in at all at the moment.
The upshot of it was, though, that the image tended to pop into his head at the most inopportune times, one of those being when he was busy divesting himself of his clothing to sit for Merlin. And as if that wasn't bad enough, Merlin couldn't seem to find the proper position. His hands seemed to be everywhere as he manipulated Arthur's body into place. The next minute, they really were everywhere, a hand grasping Arthur's inner thigh and brushing against his cock.
Arthur was suddenly so, so hard, and Merlin was just staring at it, his mouth open slightly. Arthur let out some strangled sort of noise, and Merlin backed away abruptly, flushed to the tips of his ears. Although he retreated behind his easel rather quickly, Arthur could still make out the bulge in his trousers.
Arthur took a deep breath, making sure not to move, and tried to think of something, anything really, that would get rid of his inconvenient problem. The thing was that every time he managed to begin to soften a bit, Merlin would peer around the easel at him, and just knowing the Merlin was seeing him like that would keep him hard. It went on like that for the rest of the afternoon, and now Arthur had a whole new reason to want to squirm in his seat. He valiantly resisted, though, and when they were finished for the day, Merlin offered to give him a bit of privacy while making a familiar gesture.
Arthur choked, managing to spit out a 'yes, thank you.' Merlin was out of the room in seconds, and Arthur's hand was on his cock the moment the door was shut. It only took a few firm tugs before he was coming all over his fist and belly, groaning in relief. He was dressed within minutes, and he opened the door to see Merlin lurking only a few feet away.
Arthur scowled on reflex only since, rather than being annoyed that Merlin must have overheard him, he found his stomach was swooping and his cock twitching again with arousal, despite the fact that he'd just come. Merlin, however, looked totally unrepentant and even had the audacity to grin a bit. Arthur's lip quirked up, and he hurried away before Merlin caught him smiling back.
The next afternoon, Arthur promised himself that he would not let the events of the previous day affect anything. They could just carry on as they had been, and everything would be fine. That would have been a brilliant plan, except that Merlin was, if anything, emboldened by it all. He shamelessly watched as Arthur undressed, and though it was having the same effect on Arthur as it had the day before, Arthur couldn't bring himself to want to keep his clothing on.
In fact, he may have deliberately turned so that Merlin would get the best view as clothing was shed and discarded. Merlin was hard once again as well, but this time, he made no effort to hide it. He took his time arranging Arthur again, and Arthur's eyes were drawn to Merlin's crotch, which seemed to be at eye level the entire time.
The next couple of hours were sheer torture, their glances heated and their conversation extremely stilted. Arthur longed to do a dozen different things, all of them involving either touching himself or touching Merlin. He forced himself to behave, though, and just sat there, thinking of everything he'd like to do. By the time the sunlight coming in the window had begun to fade, Arthur decided he couldn't and didn't want to wait anymore.
He allowed his hand to creep slowly over his thigh, until it was just brushing his cock. Merlin coughed a bit but didn't say anything to indicate that Arthur should stop. So Arthur continued on, fisting his cock loosely at first and just stroking himself a couple of times. Merlin's paintbrush fell to the floor, and Arthur let his eyes stray in that direction. Merlin's mouth was hanging open, and he looked moments away from either pouncing Arthur or running away.
Arthur brought his other hand into it, hefting his balls lightly and rolling them in his palm. He let out a small grunt at the pleasure that shot through him, and Merlin took an unconscious step toward Arthur, looking a bit surprised that he'd moved.
"Come on then, already. I don't want to be the only one finishing here."
Merlin still seemed unsure of what he should be doing, but another tentative few steps in Arthur's direction and loosening the laces on his trousers probably meant that this was going in the direction Arthur hoped it would. And sure enough, Merlin only stopped once he was standing between Arthur's legs, and then he let his trousers drop, leaving Arthur's face mere inches from Merlin's cock.
As much as Arthur wanted to touch it, he also didn't want to stop touching himself. He was debating the matter when Merlin solved it by grabbing his own cock and started pulling on it roughly, matching his rhythm to Arthur's. All Arthur could do was stare, watching as Merlin's foreskin slid up over the head of his cock and back down. It glistened with pre-come, and Arthur had the strange urge to lean forward for a taste. He resisted, however, finally looking up when Merlin's breath hitched to see Merlin slack-jawed with his eyes fixed on Arthur's cock.
Just knowing that Merlin was watching caused Arthur's hips to lurch upward involuntarily, and suddenly, he was coming all over his hand, and some even dripped onto the floor. He closed his eyes and slumped down in his chair to catch his breath, and after a moment, he felt something wet hit his collarbone. Opening his eyes the slightest bit, he saw Merlin's cock twitch as Merlin rode out his orgasm.
Arthur shivered as he realized what it must be that was running slowly down his chest. He brushed his fingers over his collarbone and they came away sticky. Without giving it much thought, he brought them to his mouth, licking them clean. It was kind of disgusting, really, but worth it to hear the groan Merlin let out at the sight. Before long, Arthur began looking for something to clean up with, and Merlin shoved his neckerchief into Arthur's hand.
Arthur cleaned up and handed it back, dressing in silence as Merlin did the same. When he was finished, he headed for the door, pausing only for a second before leaving. "See you tomorrow?" he asked.
"Tomorrow," Merlin replied.
***
The following day, Arthur couldn't manage anything other than sheer awkwardness. If he'd thought things would be strange after Merlin heard him pleasuring himself, it had nothing on how things actually were after they'd done so together. Still, he thought after an hour's worth of silence, he'd overcome the initial embarrassment of being painted nude; there was no reason for embarrassment now.
With that in mind, he forced himself to talk as they had been before, telling Merlin about the latest training mishaps, court gossip, and anything else that came to mind. To his surprise, it actually worked, and the tenseness that had permeated the room dissipated until they were bantering easily about Merlin's messiness and Arthur's general inability to keep still for any length of time.
"I've been doing really well since we did away with those hideous rags!" Arthur waved a hand dismissively in the direction of his outfit. "You even said so last week. It's not my fault I can't keep still when you're touching me every hour-" He cut himself off abruptly, remembering all the touching they'd done the day before and flushing.
It was true, though; Merlin had been touching him more that day than usual, and Arthur couldn't help but imagine Merlin touching him more intimately after they were done for the day. Arthur's cock started to harden, and judging by the strangled sound Merlin made, he'd noticed.
After a few minutes, Merlin spoke, but Arthur was so caught up in his thoughts that he missed what was said. "Hmm, what was that?" His fingers twitched on his thigh, longing to take hold of his erection.
"Are you going to want me to include your," he gestured to Arthur's groin, "hardness in the portrait? It sort of needs to be either hard or…not in order for me to finish properly."
It was on the tip of Arthur's tongue to say no, of course not, why would he want that in the portrait. And then he really thought about what it would mean if he said no. He'd have to manage not to get hard anymore during their afternoons together, which, with the way things were going, would not be easy to do. On the other hand, if he said yes, there was not only an excuse for it every day, but there was also a greater likelihood that his afternoons would end as the previous one had.
"Yes," in a far rougher voice than intended, was out almost before Arthur realized he had made the decision.
Merlin nodded, and the only indication that he was affected was the redness of his ears. This, Arthur decided, was going to be brilliant.
***
It was, indeed, brilliant. Time seemed to positively fly by when he was spending nearly every afternoon in Merlin's company. Afternoons became the time of day Arthur most looked forward to. Not only was he free of the constraints he was under when in the presence of members of the court or citizens of Camelot, but his relationship with Merlin became more intimate both physically and emotionally as time went on.
Which was why, nearly three and a half months after Merlin had started the painting, Arthur found himself a bit devastated when Merlin pronounced the portrait finished. As stupid as it sounded, Arthur hadn't really contemplated what would happen when it was done. Would Merlin just up and move on, heading to the next noble willing to pay his price for a portrait? Arthur supposed that he would; it wasn't as if he could stay in Camelot and hope to make the kind of living he could if he traveled throughout the neighboring kingdoms.
Arthur put those thoughts out of his mind for the moment, more intent on the possibility of seeing the painting. "Well, can I see it or not?" he asked as soon as Merlin had set his paintbrush down.
Merlin thought about it for a moment before nodding, but just as Arthur got round to the other side of the easel, Merlin snuck an arm around his waist and palmed his cock, causing Arthur to completely forget the portrait for awhile in favor of getting Merlin naked. It wasn't until Merlin was rubbing his cock against Arthur's hip and had two fingers thrusting in and out of Arthur in a steady but slow pace that he remembered to look at it.
"Look at you," Merlin said, nodding slightly toward the painting. "You're bloody gorgeous. Well-defined chest." He ran his other hand across Arthur's chest, pausing only to pinch Arthur's nipples a few times before continuing lower. Arthur's eyes automatically sought out the features Merlin was highlighting on the portrait. "Taut abdomen." Lower still. "Thick cock." Arthur shuddered. "Full balls." With a gentle squeeze to said appendages and firm fingers brushing his prostate, Arthur came, his ejaculate narrowly missing the corner of the portrait.
Merlin pulled his fingers free of Arthur's body and grasped his waist tightly, thrusting against Arthur only a few more times before coming all over his lower back an arsecheeks. They slumped against each other for several minutes before cleaning up and dressing again.
That finished, Arthur took another look at his portrait, lending it a more critical eye this time. The detail was exquisite, right from the expression on his face (mildly turned on) down to the vein on the underside of his cock. It was obvious why Merlin was paid so well and had his pick of clients.
"What will you do now?" Arthur hadn't meant to say it, but now that it was out there, he really wanted to know the answer.
Merlin busied himself cleaning his brushes, and Arthur's hopes sank. "I don't know. Move on, I suppose. I have to make a living somehow."
"You'll stay through the unveiling, though, yes?"
Merlin smiled slightly. "Of course. If nothing else, I would want to stick around to see everyone's reactions. Although," Merlin suddenly looked worried, "your father won't have me imprisoned for this or something, will he? Maybe I should leave early."
"Nonsense," Arthur said with a conviction he didn't entirely feel. "He never said you shouldn't paint something like this, and I obviously went along with it. He may not like it, but he'd hardly have you imprisoned for it."
Merlin didn't look like he really believed that, but he didn't say anything else about it, either.
***
The unveiling of Arthur's portrait took place three days later, after an elaborate feast prepared for the occasion. Merlin was actually wearing clothing befitting his station in life, yet he looked almost as uncomfortable as Arthur had felt wearing that ridiculous outfit for the portrait. He also looked substantially better in his clothing than Arthur had, and Arthur had trouble keeping from staring at him the entire evening. Well, until the time came for the portrait to be shown, that is.
Arthur stood next to Merlin, surreptitiously placing himself slightly in front of the other man, just in case he was wrong and his father did try to do something to Merlin. He stood as tall as possible, his hands clenched together behind his back as a servant removed the sheet covering the painting.
There were gasps of shock from almost everyone gathered around, and also the thud of at least one lady fainting. Arthur fought not to blush and failed miserably, but he felt a little better when he noticed that Merlin was flushed as well. A moment later, Uther whirled around to face them, and Arthur inched even further in front of Merlin.
"What is the meaning of this?" Uther hissed angrily as he stalked over to stand right in front of Arthur. "This is not-" He turned as the noise level increased behind him. "Someone cover that painting!" He faced Arthur and Merlin again. "You two, come with me."
Uther stalked to an adjoining chamber, and Arthur and Merlin followed meekly behind, Arthur trying to figure out what to say. "Father, I-" he began as soon as the door was shut behind them.
"No, I don't want to hear it. That...painting was not the portrait I commissioned, and it was certainly not something that should have been shown to anyone at all, let alone the entire court." He pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. "Why weren't you wearing the clothing I told you to wear?"
"You told me I wasn't to wear any other clothing, and that was so uncomfortable I couldn't wear it and remain still enough for the portrait to be completed. So I…didn't wear any other clothing, and the portrait was completed."
Uther and Arthur stared at each other for a long moment while Merlin at Arthur's side and Arthur worried that his father would do something rash. Finally, Uther looked over at Merlin, who seemed surprised to suddenly be the focus of attention. "You will redo the portrait so it is appropriate to hang with our family portraits. And you," he faced Arthur again, "will find some appropriate attire that is comfortable enough to allow you to sit for the portrait. Now go, both of you, and I expect you to begin work on the new portrait tomorrow."
Arthur and Merlin nodded and hurried toward the door, but they didn't quite make it before Uther spoke again. "And take that...painting with you. I don't want to see it again."
And then they were through the door and in the hall again, which had pretty well cleared out since the portrait had been uncovered. Arthur sighed in relief and glanced over at Merlin, who looked just as relieved as Arthur felt. Arthur stared at the once again covered painting as a wonderful thought struck him. If the portrait had to be redone, Merlin would be around for at least another few months. Although he was extremely pleased inwardly, he let it show only in a small smile.
"Would you care to join me in my chambers this evening?" A certain amount of trepidation accompanied the question given that they'd never spent the night together, but Arthur didn't let it show. And there was obviously no need for it at all, judging by the grin on Merlin's face as he answered.
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be."