Chapter Text
Face deep in the bathroom basin, water dripped from the ridges of Arthur’s skin. Cascading along the bridge of his nose and the jut of his brow bone, he submerged himself once again, a light gasp escaping his lips as he came up for air.
“Merlin…” he called, eyes still shut. “Merlin!”
With silence being his only reply, Arthur blew water past his lips. Rinsing the soot from his brows and nostrils, he gave his cheeks one final scrub before patting his face dry. As he rounded the corner, he stopped in his tracks- eyes landing heavy on his servant.
“There you are… Merlin, did you not hear me calling you?”
Crouched before the fireplace, Merlin gave the ash a few final pokes before standing. Pressing his hands against his knees, he dusted them off at his sides with a sigh.
“Sorry, Sire. What can I do for you?”
“Well, after this week’s journey I was thinking a bath seems well deserved, don’t you?”
“That sounds quite lovely,” Merlin added, feet and hands moving involuntarily at the sight of the prince standing tall and wide-stretched. Peeling off Arthur’s armor piece by piece, Merlin piled it onto his shoulder before taking a step back. He nodded firmly at his handy work.
“That settles it,” Arthur clapped. “Have one of the other servants help you draw it- and make sure the water’s boiling this time. The last time you did it alone, I felt like I was bathing in a lake.”
Arthur smirked, particularly proud of his quick-thinking. Prepared to face one of Merlin’s snarky remarks, his brows dipped when met with silence.
“Do you have wax in your ears or something?”
“No, Sire. I assure you, everything’s coming in loud and clear,” Merlin breathed. “One bath coming right up.”
Raising his brow, Arthur paused.
“What, no witty comeback or clever retort?”
Heading for the door, Merlin wagged his finger, turning on his heels.
“I tend to save those for special occasions,” he replied with a fake smile before disappearing into the hall.
Left alone as often as is, Arthur took this time to stew in his thoughts. Still in today’s clothes, he plopped down on his chaise near the fire, thumb rubbing his chin. Since when did Merlin become so dreary? Looking back on it now, he supposed the journey home was rather quiet- free of complaints or the usual nitpicks. In all fairness, the entire hunting party seemed rather worse for wear; a safe conclusion drawn from sleeping on branches and scaling jagged hillsides. Or had he pushed Merlin too far these past few days? Admittedly, Arthur had let his words get the best of them. He knew sending Merlin into the cave first was a bad idea, despite trying to prove a rather stupid and futile point. In hindsight, Merlin was only a servant- he was no true night of Camelot; and overtime, such harsh words would wear down even the sharpest of swords.
With a thud clashing against his room door, Arthur dragged his attention away from his worries. Entering the room with two pails on his shoulders, Merlin stopped on a dime- the wood of one clinging against the wall as he avoided hitting a chambermaid on her way out. A bit of water spilled onto the floor.
Merlin huffed with tight lips and clenched eyes.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” replied the young girl, hands over her mouth.
“It’s fine,” Merlin said, shortly.
“Let me get a rag. It shouldn’t be too much trouble to clean u-,” she began, Merlin cutting her off.
“No need.”
Allowing Merlin to pass, she stepped to the side with a curtsy. Tucking her hair behind her ear, the young girl’s flustered gaze at his servant was not lost on the prince. After flattening the sides of her dress, only then did she turn her attention toward Arthur.
“These should be the final pails, your grace.”
“Thank you, Alana,” Arthur nodded. “That’ll be all.”
“Good night Sire,” she smiled, offering a final curtsy before leaving.
Hearing the last few ounces of water fill the tub, Arthur stood peeking around the bend of the bathroom. Hanging onto the archway, he watched Merlin wipe his brow with his sleeve, dirtied and stained. He rolled his neck and shoulders, back cracking slightly when he twisted. As he stood, Arthur hurried back to his chaise, flipping through a book just in time for Merlin to enter.
“You’re all set, Sire,” Merlin said, bending down to wipe the puddle of water near the door. “Bath’s nice and hot.”
“Very good,” Arthur nodded, trying to look busy. “That’ll be all for tonight, Merlin. You can drain it in the morning.”
“Good night, Arthur,” Merlin bowed before exiting the room.
Arthur listened to Merlin’s feet shuffle down the hall. Fighting the urge in his chest, he lost, springing into action not a moment later. Standing from the chaise, he rushed to the door before yanking it open.
“Merlin!” he called, voice barreling down the halls.
Merlin froze, shoulders straightening as he turned around.
“Yes, Sire?”
Suddenly, Arthur forgot how to speak.
He could practically sense the night’s guard’s ears perk up in an instant- those of the gossiping chambermaids not too far out of ear shot. Catching sight of Merlin’s tired blue eyes, the sudden silence made Arthur feel vulnerable.
Clearing his throat, he spoke.
“… There are no towels,” he said sheepishly.
“I’ll go get some.”
Nodding, Arthur slipped back into the room, making a b-line toward the bathroom. Plucking a set of towels from a nearby stool, he stuffed them in his drawer of night-shirts like the clot pole he felt like. Taking a breath, Arthur stood near his bed idle; hands on his hips, he began pacing, eyes never leaving the front door. As the sounds of footsteps approached yet again, he rushed toward his divider, fingers making quick work of his shirt’s drawstrings. Soon, Merlin entered, closing the door behind him.
“Arthur, I’ve got the towels.”
“Brilliant! Just lay them on the stool near the bath.”
Sauntering toward the tub, Merlin placed them as told; head shaking at the empty space. If he hadn’t been so absent-minded, he would already be halfway to his room by now. How could he forget something so simple? Bending down, Merlin dipped his hand into the tub; a huff of disdain for the new chambermaid falling from his lips.
He had seen the young girl in passing, preparing Morgana’s breakfast or fetching a few dresses from the royal seamstress. And after engaging in the smallest of conversations- though a bit bubbly for his taste, Merlin deemed her suitable for tonight’s task… A choice he quickly regretted.
Merlin had asked her to keep her steps light, an agile pair of legs needed for fetching Prince Arthur’s bath water; but upon their second trip up the castle steps, it was clear Alana’s attention was held by more important things…
Her wandering eyes were no bother. Though burning holes into him at times, they had no effect on her pace- it was her uncanny need to play the distressed damsel that irritated him the most. After cleaning up the first ‘accidentally’ spilled pail of water from her dress, Merlin knew he had to move double time. He did well to ignore her girlish giggles and lingering hand on his arm, but as her clumsiness resulted in yet another spilled pail, her apology fell on deaf ears. And even now, as Alana had long since left his sight, her tacky immaturity continued to haunt him in the form of lukewarm bathwater.
Sparing a glance toward the divider, Merlin let a quick spell cast from his tongue- eyes glowing as they often did. Soon, the water roared with steam. Too tired to hear more of Arthur’s whining, Merlin patted himself on the back. His quick thinking had surely saved him from yet another one of Arthur’s entitled lectures. After all, such a spoiled man would never let him live something like this down. He’d probably waste the entirety of breakfast raving about a hard night’s sleep spent shivering in bed. Or perhaps he would sense a cold coming on from such a frost bitten bath. Merlin laughed at the idea. Spotting the prince’s shadow dance along the wall, he watched his hands and arms flail. With his shirt soon landing atop the divider, Merlin plucked it down gently.
“You’re all set, Arthur,” Merlin said, discarding it in a nearby wicker basket. “Is there anything else you need?”
“Not unless your scattered brain has forgotten something else…”
“I think that’s about it.”
Arthur nodded, head pressing against the divider ever so slightly. Scolding himself in silence, he knew he had to speak up before Merlin had the chance to leave; in fact, he was probably headed for the door right now. Arthur had spent many days hiding behind the cover of this very wall, listening to Merlin hover about the room. Often mumbling to himself, he’d recite his own snappy comeback out of wishful earshot of the prince, or on rare occasions, humming a rather catchy tune stuck in his head. Never willing to say it out loud, Arthur quite liked these moments; their brief breaks in cast system standards, giving him time to see Merlin for Merlin. Hearing the boy’s feet shuffle toward the door, Arthur forced himself out of his comfort zone.
“Merlin,” he spoke, emerging from the divider. “Is there something on your mind? You seem rather down.”
“No, not really.”
“What, is the servant life too strenuous for you?” Arthur poked, regretting it instantly.
“Well, someone has to keep you in line,” Merlin grinned. “If not me, then who?”
Another fake smile .
Another way to mask such a strained look on his face; Arthur hated it.
“You were quiet on the ride back home. It was a bit unnerving, I suppose… I’ve gotten too used to your banter, no matter how horrid I think it is.”
Staring at Arthur, Merlin stood perplexed- like he often did when the prince decided to be kindhearted or thoughtful. It was a soft sentiment that left Merlin buzzing with warmth; a strange emotion coming from a man whose appearance was all but soft and simple.
It was clear that Arthur was a well-built man. With muscles defining his arms and back, waist broad and lined with abs, ‘fighting-fit’ was the perfect allegory. Lost in the way his chest hair gleamed by candlelight, Merlin had to come to his senses. Now was not the time to ogle, he thought, shaking it off. He could do that later. Perhaps on his own time, in his own bed under a set of warm sheets… Who knows, maybe tonight would bring a different Arthur to him, one that he could actually touch and breathe in like he found himself wanting to do these days. But that was just it- it would always be another Arthur; not the one before him…
Sighing, Merlin shook his head, “I’m fine. Just aches and pains of the week, I suppose.”
“Maybe Gaius could fix you something?” Arthur suggested.
“I’m sure it’s nothing a good night’s rest won’t cure.”
As Merlin turned toward the door, Arthur caught him yet again, this time his voice sounding gentler than before.
“How about a bath?”
Merlin peaked over his shoulder to find Arthur sitting on his windowsill, head against the concrete. Merlin snorted.
“Not all of us have the luxury of a boiling bath like you, Arthur… Don’t look now, but I think your privilege is showing.”
Arthur frowned at Merlin’s dim-wittedness. He pushed himself off the wall, stepping closer.
“I meant mine.”
“That one?”
“Yes, that one,” Arthur mocked.
Merlin chuckled out of nervousness, “Wha- I… Arthur, I can’t. Thank you for the offer, really, but it just doesn’t seem right.”
“Oh, come on, Merlin,” Arthur said, hands slamming down on his shoulders. “You look more beat than me. Go on.”
Pushing his servant toward the tub, it was clear he meant business. Trying to protest, Merlin stomped his feet every so often, but eventually, they too began to cave under the pressure.
“Arthur, really… You deserve the bath more than I do.”
“I insist.”
Merlin turned toward Arthur once again, lips parting to speak. Arthur stopped him.
“That’s an order, Merlin.”
A bit in shock, Merlin stared at the bathwater, steam rising from the pool. With such a strenuous week resting on his shoulders, he had to admit it did look quite inviting. Hours upon hours, days upon days spent saving Arthur’s ass more than once was not an easy feat. Writing them off as close calls and acts of sheer luck, Merlin did, in fact, deserve something more than a trip to his own bed; he deserved the royal treatment.
“Feel free to use the chambers if you’d like,” Arthur replied, patting him on the shoulder. “And, oh look! You even have fresh towels. ”
Covering himself with one of his robes, the prince shuffled toward his chaise; refocused on his discarded book, he flipped to a bookmarked page.
“If you keep staring at me Merlin, your water’s going to grow cold.”
Eyes dropping in agreement, Merlin disappeared behind the divider, stripping himself of his clothes. He had to admit, standing in the same room as Arthur while naked was more nerve wracking than expected. Feeling vulnerable to say the least, Merlin couldn’t wait to get under the cover of water. Scurrying toward the tub, he smiled at the steam rising to meet his nose. Finding Arthur buried in his pages, he stepped into the tub not a moment later. Water rising to his shoulders, he let his head fall back- a sigh escaping from his lips.
Arthur couldn’t help but smile.
~/~/~
Merlin’s time spent in the tub escaped him.
He had no real sense of the minutes that passed, only an inkling given by the now melted candle resting on the edge of Arthur’s desk. Now half its previous size, it sat in a hardened pool of its wax- a mess he was sure to clean up later. Glancing toward the fireplace, Merlin found Arthur no longer stretched out along the chaise. Searching with his eyes, he noticed the prince’s bed was still neatly made, the organized piles atop his stationary still untouched. To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur stood over his shoulder, leaning against the basin. Though trained in his direction, the prince’s stare- seemingly elsewhere, still managed to make Merlin’s heart skip a beat.
Clearing his throat, Merlin sat up, water splashing as he did; Arthur blinking foolishly.
“You’re awake,” he smiled.
“I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep,” Merlin replied, knees retracting to his chest.
“It’s fine. You weren’t out for long…”
Arthur ran his hands along his thighs, eyes dipping down at the silence. Catching sight of the pail at his feet, he nodded.
“Oh, your um… Your bath ran cold, so I changed it out.”
Merlin looked down at the pails lining the tub- a couple empty, others filled with murky water. Wiggling his toes, he began to feel heat circling his feet and thighs.
“You actually changed the water?!”
“I do know how to do things for myself, Merlin,” Arthur admitted.
“… Well, thank you.”
Arthur nodded, clearing his throat, “There’s soap and a sponge on the stool… And be sure to get your hair, you have patches of soot in them from the cave.”
Merlin watched Arthur walk away with an awkward step. Chuckling to himself, he dragged the sponge across his skin, water squeezing onto his shoulders. Once his hair had been lathered, arms and chest now free of dirt, Merlin dipped the Pouring Pitcher into the tub. Mindful of the mess, he let the water trickle over his head; trails of soap cascading off his nose and lips. Merlin ran his fingers through his hair, damp palm wiping the water from his eyes- the sound of Arthur’s book slamming with frustration causing him to jump.
“For God’s sake, Merlin!”
“What is it?” Merlin sighed, blinking away his blurred vision.
“I’ve watched you miss the same bloody patch of hair for twenty minutes now.” Quick on his feet, Arthur shuffled toward the tub, sleeves now pushed past his elbows. “I swear Merlin, your lack of coordination scares me.”
The servant laughed.
“You’re one to talk. After years of being your servant, I’m still amazed that I’m able to get you out of bed, dressed and fed most mornings without you tripping over your own laces.”
Snatching the pitcher from Merlin’s hand, Arthur shot him a scowl.
“Give me that.”
Filling it with water, Arthur held a steady grip on Merlin’s shoulder; fingers pressing at his nape, Merlin tilted his head in compliance.
“Hold still… I wouldn’t want to drown you.”
With a gentle thumb rustling through his scalp, water pouring over his skin, Merlin let out a sigh. He could feel the tension in his neck loosen, the aching of his shoulder blades melt away. Maybe a bath was just what he needed. After the second dip of the pitcher, Merlin felt the grip along his nape slide ever so gently. Arthur’s palm rounded the side of his neck, touch cupping him just below the ear. His fingertips grazed the front of his throat, the press of his thumb controlling Merlin how he saw fit. By the fourth pass, Arthur had rid him of all his suds. Sure, the clear water trickling over his skin was a dead giveaway, but Arthur couldn’t care less. At this point, it was purely cosmetic- nothing more than a selfish want to prolong the look of content on Merlin’s face… A look Arthur had quickly come to love.
It was alluring how Merlin looked in this light.
What a difference the soft glow of a candle could make when compared to that of the sun; then again, even in the daytime, Arthur often found himself staring at Merlin just as he did now. Stealing glances at him when he laughed, eyes carefully peeled when he drifted off into thought.
There had been something so innate about the way Arthur looked at his servant in recent months. The way he watched Merlin wait on him hand and foot, secretly wanting to do the same in return… And now as Merlin laid soaking in his tub, being tended to by none other than Arthur himself, the prince realized this was his chance.
No longer an arm’s length away, Arthur found himself closer to Merlin than he expected. Taking advantage of the surge in his confidence, he allowed himself a moment to take it all in; the pitcher in his hand falling still in the water. With the cool touch of metal brushing against his thigh, Merlin blinked- heart sinking to his stomach.
Had he moaned out loud?
Sure, it was no secret Arthur’s royal treatment had relaxed Merlin to an entirely new level of comfort. The sensation of warm water and a gentle breeze had reduced his thoughts to putty; and yes- the sudden feeling of something foreign touching his thigh was unexpected to say the least, but a literal moan rising from his throat seemed a bit much. Did it not…? He had to, thought Merlin. After all, it was the only logical explanation for Arthur’s stare locked on him the way it were.
Carefully, Merlin took note of the prince’s chest; the way his hair trailed up his sternum, peeking through his robe. Merlin watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed, lips shining when he licked them. Slowly working his way up, he finally met Arthur’s eyes… Those gorgeous, clear blue eyes he often dreamed about. Lured in by the thumb brushing at his lobe, Merlin’s hand emerged from the water. Finding its place against Arthur’s jaw, he leaned in; the two eventually meeting in a kiss.
Arthur’s brain had long since stopped working. Merlin’s lips were tender and sweet- full of everything he had imagined, everything he had dreamed. The genuine touch of Merlin’s hand running through his hair was a welcome surprise, anything other than his fingertips trailing water down his back failed in comparison. Leveraging his hand on the side of the tub, Arthur leaned in for more. Groaning at the welcome surprise of the prince’s tongue, Merlin eagerly met him halfway.
Soon, a heavy knock rang out against the bedroom door.
“Sire!”
Arthur pulled away, startled.
Standing, he glanced toward the door, the sounds of splashing water and damp footsteps scrambling behind him. Arthur’s heart thumped in his ears. Vision blurring as he turned, the glimpse of Merlin’s bare skin peeking beneath his towel made his knees go weak.
“Sire,” the voice persisted.
Rushing toward the door, Arthur tidied his robe. Parting his hair, he placed a hand on the door handle, sparing one final glance at his servant taking cover behind the divider.
“Alana…?” Arthur blinked, frowning at a basket of chopped wood resting on her hip. “Uh, yes- how can I help you?”
“Pardon the intrusion, your grace, but King Uther ordered more firewood be brought to your room. Camelot seems to be getting a bit more wind this winter, I’m afraid.”
Stretching his body along the door frame, Arthur carefully blocked her line of sight. Flashing a fake smile of his own, he reached for the basket.
“Well, thank you for that, Alana. That’ll be all.”
The girl tightened her arm around the wicker, “I can prepare it, if you’d like.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary.”
“It’s no trouble at all, really… After all, it is my duty.”
Annoyed and quickly running out of patience, Arthur glanced over his shoulder. Spotting the blue of Merlin’s shirt disappear from atop the divider, his heart sank.
“It’s fine, Alana. Thank you ,” he snapped. “I’ll just use it as spare for the morning.”
Handing over the firewood, Alana curtsied with a faltering smile.
“As you wish, Sire… Good night.”
“And to you,” Arthur replied, shutting the door.
Dropping the basket next to his chaise, the prince scrambled around his side table.
“Merlin?” he shouted in a whisper. “Merlin!”
Heart sinking at the sound of his name, Merlin emerged from the divider- redressed . Adjusting his scarf, he avoided Arthur’s eyes.
“I should go.”
“Go?” Arthur questioned, stepping in front of him. “What do you mean? Merlin, you don’t have to leave.”
“Arthur, it’s fine, really; I- I should go. Gaius will be expecting me, anyway.”
Side stepping, Merlin started for the door- Arthur latching onto his arm.
“Merlin, wait. I’m…” he began, Merlin cutting him off with a smile. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-.”
“I really have to go, Arthur… Good night.”
Swiftly pulling away, Merlin offered the prince a bow before exiting the room. Careful to keep his head down, he moved swiftly past the guards and down the corridor stairs. Still adhering to the castle rules, Merlin used all of his might not to sprint through the courtyard; a sense of anxiousness making him crawl out of his skin. He tugged at his scarf constantly, the slip of two fingers seemingly making the difference between him and suffocation. Once reaching the Court Physician’s doors, Merlin felt as if he was on the verge of collapse. Tiptoeing around Gaius’s cot, he backed into the workstation- an absurd number of vials and bowls rattling as they regained balance. It wasn’t until Merlin made it to the safety of his own room that a sigh fell from his lips.
He leaned against his door, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Raking his fingers through his hair, he gripped his curls tight- the embarrassing blush of his ears revealed. Wanting to disappear into the darkness of his lids, Merlin clinched his eyes shut.