The Intaglio [Oneshot, Merlin BBC 2008]
Title: The Intaglio
Fandom: Merlin (BBC, 2008)
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Genres: Drama/General
Rating: PG (for hints)
Word Count: 1084
Summary: for the kinkme_merlin prompt here: Arthur/Merlin, "It would never have worked between us, Arthur." [Thanks to the OP for such an inspirational prompt!]
.
Truth be told, you haven’t met that many Crown Princes in your life--in fact, you’ve only met one, but Crown Prince Arthur is enough to tell you what you need to know about Crown Princes. Arthur is frivolous, fickle, and helplessly heroic. On some days, even you are charmed by his antics, on other days, you are exasperated beyond all belief because he is ridiculous. On the rarest of days, you think you might love him.
You know from the dragon’s half formed riddles that you and Arthur are bound in some way to an intricate destiny, so perhaps it is not so ridiculous that you love him.
Of course it is utterly ridiculous that he just might love you. You see it, the way his eyes flicker at you when he is supposed to be looking at Gwen. Gwen, who utterly adores him. You can tell by her wide happy smile...you have never seen her so happy.
Arthur does not notice. He is too busy looking at you.
.
It is not like you can see the future, but you know it. You know that a Crown Prince of Camelot has obligations to his country, to his people, his Queen (Gwen or not). You wonder if Arthur has forgotten all of those things so he looks to you. His eyes want to make so many promises to you, promises that he will break, not because he wants to, but merely because it is inevitable.
When you are straightening out the sheets on his bed, Arthur comes in and touches your shoulder. His hand is much too heavy.
“Sire, what are you doing?”
His fingers linger along your jawline, and then he withdraws his hand. You are not so shocked by his remorseful eyes. Arthur probably thinks that you don’t love him at all.
.
It’s days after that, when he finally corners you. Your mind can’t decide what to focus on, the fact that Arthur is so overwhelmingly close to you that you can see freckles on his nose, or the fact that he is going to ruin his banquet clothing with unnecessary wrinkles and you are undoubtedly going to get blamed for it.
You stay still. At least he has the decency to corner you in a nook and be somewhat inconspicuous.
“Arthur,” when you speak, your voice is mostly even. “What are you doing?” Part of you wants to scold him for having bad timing, but you can’t. Your throat is dry, as if Arthur’s very presence stifles you.
His fingers are warm on your skin. You shiver as he leans closer to you, lips inches away from your mouth. “I’ve done something upsetting, haven’t I?”
This is getting to be one of those days when you’re so exasperated with him you could strangle him. “That’s not it and you know it.”
Arthur steps back, and you resist the urge to smooth out the wrinkle near his too-stiff collar. “Then...you really don’t love me.”
You could have slapped him. Except before you can raise a hand, he turns from you and is walking away.
“Arthur.”
He stops. You hate how he looks hopeful. “What?”
“I love you,” you say. “If anything, I think I will never love anyone as much as I love you.” In fact, you don’t think you have ever loved anyone before Crown Prince Arthur.
Arthur comes back to you, takes your hands. His hands are warm and calloused. You suddenly want to kiss him, but you know you can’t. “Then...?”
Perhaps in another lifetime, when he is not a prince and you’re not his servant; you rub your thumb slowly against his palm, summoning a smile. "It would never have worked between us, Arthur. It doesn’t have anything do with how much you profess to love me, or how much I love you.”
“We haven’t even--” Arthur sets his chin stubbornly. “You can’t just say something like that, like you just know. No one knows these things. Not even you.”
For a moment, you wonder if he’s accusing you of something, or maybe he is just speaking out of anger, “Arthur, listen to me.”
Strangely enough, he does quiet, but Arthur’s grip on your hands are painfully tight.
“You’re right, I don’t know what will happen in the future, but I do know that you’ll one day become King Arthur. You can’t expect to frolic around as you do now.”
His eyes flash, “I do not frolic.”
You just look at him.
“All right, maybe a bit, but--Merlin, I’m not going to be that way with you. Or do you really have so little faith in me?”
Maybe you do, maybe you don’t. Faith has nothing to do with it. “You’re not listening to me,” you wish you can make him understand. “Just because you try doesn’t mean that this will work.” Because it won’t.
“So that’s why we shouldn’t try.” Arthur still doesn’t understand it at all. You think perhaps that he never will. But Arthur will think that he loves you, and that alone is enough. “Merlin, I don’t understand.” The admission probably truly pains him, and Arthur suddenly looks old. You untangle one of your hands from his and smooth a hand across the wrinkle on his forehead. He closes his eyes and sucks in a deep breath.
“Merlin--”
“Don’t.” If he says it, you probably can’t stop yourself from kissing him and doing something stupid. “I am with you now, I will be with you when you become a great king, I will be with you when they sing of Great King Arthur in their legends. I will never leave you, and I will never love you any less than as I do now.”
None of these things are fleeting.
Arthur opens his eyes, you think he understands. There are imprints from his fingers digging into your skin. “One day, perhaps they will also sing of Merlin, King Arthur’s Great Clumsy Manservant.” He can’t quite muster a smirk, so he settles for a half-smile instead.
You shrug, “Maybe.”
“Is this really what you want?”
He is giving you a chance, a chance to leap and soar into the sky with him, only to fall. You just nod, “This is what I want.”
Finally, Arthur steps away from you; he gestures for you to follow, and you do. You will follow him for the rest of your life and the lifetimes after that. “Then one day, I will make the people sing, for you.”
Fandom: Merlin (BBC, 2008)
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Genres: Drama/General
Rating: PG (for hints)
Word Count: 1084
Summary: for the kinkme_merlin prompt here: Arthur/Merlin, "It would never have worked between us, Arthur." [Thanks to the OP for such an inspirational prompt!]
.
Truth be told, you haven’t met that many Crown Princes in your life--in fact, you’ve only met one, but Crown Prince Arthur is enough to tell you what you need to know about Crown Princes. Arthur is frivolous, fickle, and helplessly heroic. On some days, even you are charmed by his antics, on other days, you are exasperated beyond all belief because he is ridiculous. On the rarest of days, you think you might love him.
You know from the dragon’s half formed riddles that you and Arthur are bound in some way to an intricate destiny, so perhaps it is not so ridiculous that you love him.
Of course it is utterly ridiculous that he just might love you. You see it, the way his eyes flicker at you when he is supposed to be looking at Gwen. Gwen, who utterly adores him. You can tell by her wide happy smile...you have never seen her so happy.
Arthur does not notice. He is too busy looking at you.
.
It is not like you can see the future, but you know it. You know that a Crown Prince of Camelot has obligations to his country, to his people, his Queen (Gwen or not). You wonder if Arthur has forgotten all of those things so he looks to you. His eyes want to make so many promises to you, promises that he will break, not because he wants to, but merely because it is inevitable.
When you are straightening out the sheets on his bed, Arthur comes in and touches your shoulder. His hand is much too heavy.
“Sire, what are you doing?”
His fingers linger along your jawline, and then he withdraws his hand. You are not so shocked by his remorseful eyes. Arthur probably thinks that you don’t love him at all.
.
It’s days after that, when he finally corners you. Your mind can’t decide what to focus on, the fact that Arthur is so overwhelmingly close to you that you can see freckles on his nose, or the fact that he is going to ruin his banquet clothing with unnecessary wrinkles and you are undoubtedly going to get blamed for it.
You stay still. At least he has the decency to corner you in a nook and be somewhat inconspicuous.
“Arthur,” when you speak, your voice is mostly even. “What are you doing?” Part of you wants to scold him for having bad timing, but you can’t. Your throat is dry, as if Arthur’s very presence stifles you.
His fingers are warm on your skin. You shiver as he leans closer to you, lips inches away from your mouth. “I’ve done something upsetting, haven’t I?”
This is getting to be one of those days when you’re so exasperated with him you could strangle him. “That’s not it and you know it.”
Arthur steps back, and you resist the urge to smooth out the wrinkle near his too-stiff collar. “Then...you really don’t love me.”
You could have slapped him. Except before you can raise a hand, he turns from you and is walking away.
“Arthur.”
He stops. You hate how he looks hopeful. “What?”
“I love you,” you say. “If anything, I think I will never love anyone as much as I love you.” In fact, you don’t think you have ever loved anyone before Crown Prince Arthur.
Arthur comes back to you, takes your hands. His hands are warm and calloused. You suddenly want to kiss him, but you know you can’t. “Then...?”
Perhaps in another lifetime, when he is not a prince and you’re not his servant; you rub your thumb slowly against his palm, summoning a smile. "It would never have worked between us, Arthur. It doesn’t have anything do with how much you profess to love me, or how much I love you.”
“We haven’t even--” Arthur sets his chin stubbornly. “You can’t just say something like that, like you just know. No one knows these things. Not even you.”
For a moment, you wonder if he’s accusing you of something, or maybe he is just speaking out of anger, “Arthur, listen to me.”
Strangely enough, he does quiet, but Arthur’s grip on your hands are painfully tight.
“You’re right, I don’t know what will happen in the future, but I do know that you’ll one day become King Arthur. You can’t expect to frolic around as you do now.”
His eyes flash, “I do not frolic.”
You just look at him.
“All right, maybe a bit, but--Merlin, I’m not going to be that way with you. Or do you really have so little faith in me?”
Maybe you do, maybe you don’t. Faith has nothing to do with it. “You’re not listening to me,” you wish you can make him understand. “Just because you try doesn’t mean that this will work.” Because it won’t.
“So that’s why we shouldn’t try.” Arthur still doesn’t understand it at all. You think perhaps that he never will. But Arthur will think that he loves you, and that alone is enough. “Merlin, I don’t understand.” The admission probably truly pains him, and Arthur suddenly looks old. You untangle one of your hands from his and smooth a hand across the wrinkle on his forehead. He closes his eyes and sucks in a deep breath.
“Merlin--”
“Don’t.” If he says it, you probably can’t stop yourself from kissing him and doing something stupid. “I am with you now, I will be with you when you become a great king, I will be with you when they sing of Great King Arthur in their legends. I will never leave you, and I will never love you any less than as I do now.”
None of these things are fleeting.
Arthur opens his eyes, you think he understands. There are imprints from his fingers digging into your skin. “One day, perhaps they will also sing of Merlin, King Arthur’s Great Clumsy Manservant.” He can’t quite muster a smirk, so he settles for a half-smile instead.
You shrug, “Maybe.”
“Is this really what you want?”
He is giving you a chance, a chance to leap and soar into the sky with him, only to fall. You just nod, “This is what I want.”
Finally, Arthur steps away from you; he gestures for you to follow, and you do. You will follow him for the rest of your life and the lifetimes after that. “Then one day, I will make the people sing, for you.”