Merlin Fic: A Dream of Spring (PG)
May. 5th, 2009 05:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annundrielA Dream of Spring
Arthur/Merlin
PG
1266
Merlin offers Arthur reassurance as only he can.
Written in response to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shetiger's prompt "Arthur/Merlin, spring flowers." I was sort of attacked by ideas. This was one of them. So thank you! :)
Thank youginnith and trademybike for giving this a look and giving me reassurance.
Title inspired by e.e. cummings.
Merlin finds Arthur alone in one of the gardens, seated on a bench, sitting with his elbows on his knees, head bowed in the pale light of the late winter afternoon. From where he stands, Merlin can’t see Arthur’s face, but he’s sure he knows what he would find there: expression blank, Arthur staring off into space as though he believes if he looks long enough, he’ll find the answers he’s missing.
Though he’s silent, Merlin knows Arthur is aware of him. Arthur always knows when Merlin is present, is never startled by him. Arthur can look up in a crowded room and find Merlin’s eyes unerringly. Merlin imagines it’s similar to his ability to know where Arthur is at any given moment, if he just closes his eyes and focuses. It’s a connection neither of them questions.
He moves forward until he’s almost in front of Arthur.
“Merlin,” Arthur says. “Didn’t take you long.”
Shrugging, Merlin turns and sits next to Arthur, hissing at the feel of the cold stone through his trousers. He shifts, pressing closer to Arthur’s side, mirrors his position. “It never does,” he answers.
Arthur just stares out at the garden. Merlin wonders what he sees to make him focus so.
It’s not much to look at now—bare branches and barren earth—but the rest of the year the garden is a fragrant haven from the rest of Camelot, set far enough away from the center of activity and isolated enough to be an escape.
Situated like a small courtyard, it’s enclosed on all four sides by white-stone walls, arches opening into walkways. Paved paths cut across the space, dividing the garden into four corners. The trees and hedges look sad in the winter next to the bare soil, but Merlin knows come spring that will change.
“It was my mother’s, you know,” Arthur says, breaking the silence that has settled around them like a blanket. “He planted it for her.”
“He loved her very much.” Merlin doesn’t actually know how Uther felt about his wife, but he’s been in Camelot years now and that’s more than long enough to hear the stories. Long enough to know that Uther did many things for his wife or in her name and that this garden is one of the better ones.
“I never knew her,” he says. “We never talked about her. At the time, I never really cared to. But now…Now I wonder if we should have. If I had asked about her if that would have…” He trails off and then turns his head, looking at Merlin for the first time since Merlin saw him slip from the crowded hall, and smiles ruefully. “Pretty selfish, don’t you think?”
Merlin shakes his head. “You can’t miss something you’ve never known,” he says. “Not really.” He should know; Arthur never knew his mother, but Merlin doesn’t even know his father’s name. “You might feel its absence, but you can’t miss it.”
Arthur stares at him for a moment, face sad and fond, before turning back to the garden. Merlin watches him—pale and quiet and thoughtful, the weight of the kingdom already weighing heavy on his shoulders—and knows that Arthur is afraid. Of loss, of failure, of leaving nothing behind when his time comes. Afraid that he’ll leave behind nothing but a garden as testimony to his love and a land fearful of his wrath as testimony to his power.
“You’ll be a great king, Arthur,” he says. “The land will thrive.”
Arthur looks at him again. “How do you know? How can you be certain?”
“Because I know you,” he says. “Because you’re a good man.”
Arthur’s eyes are wide, fearful and trusting, like he wants to ask for reassurance but is afraid of what he’ll get instead.
“Have I ever lied to you?”
Arthur looks at him pointedly and Merlin realizes what he’s said. He blushes, but doesn’t look away. “That was omission of fact. Have I ever lied to you about this?”
“You’re judgment is skewed.” His face is a strange mix of skeptical and hopeful. “And you’re mentally deficient. I don’t know why I listen to you at all.”
Merlin rolls his eyes and reaches across to where Arthur’s hands hang between his knees, wraps his hand around the nearest wrist, and tugs until Arthur is angled toward him and Merlin’s holding his left hand in both of his.
“Merlin, what are you—?”
“Shh,” Merlin says, flashing a glare at him for good measure. Arthur closes his mouth, waiting. “Do you trust me?”
“What?”
He squeezes Arthur’s hand. “Do you trust me?”
“Do you—You really have to ask?” Arthur’s face is confused.
“No, I guess not.” He smiles reassuringly. “Now, close your eyes.”
Arthur searches his face for…something. Merlin’s not sure what he’s looking for, but apparently he finds it because his eyes slip closed.
When Merlin closes his eyes, he can see the land as it will be: prosperous and free from fear; blossoming, thriving under Arthur’s reign after waiting so patiently for Arthur to rise and bring with him a golden age.
Merlin holds Arthur’s hand between his own and tries to show him all of this. Tries to show him his people united and happy, his land bountiful. Merlin shows Arthur his place in all of it, shining at the center like the promise of a new day, a king worthy of the love of his people, worthy of their respect. After all this, he shows Arthur Merlin’s own place at his side, constant and unwavering. They are in this together; two sides of one coin, two halves of one whole.
Arthur draws a quick breath and when Merlin opens his eyes, Arthur’s watching him, face full of wonder. “You really believe that?” he asks, voice hushed between them.
“I know it,” he says, and it’s the truth. Around them he can feel life lying dormant beneath the surface, waiting. He can feel the eager greenness of it, impatient for spring to come and free it from the earth. It won’t take much coaxing to get it to grow; it wants to, for Merlin. For Arthur. The time has come.
Arthur leans forward, eyes closed, until his forehead rests against Merlin’s, their breath mingling in the cool winter air. They stay like that for a moment before Arthur tilts his head just so and fits their mouths together. The kiss tastes like relief and thank you and all of the things they don’t say to each other but mean all the same.
When he pulls back, Merlin shivers and it has as much to do with the look in Arthur’s eyes as it does with the fact that it’s winter and he can no longer feel his toes. “I think it’s time we went inside,” he says. “I won’t be blamed for the new king freezing his arse off.”
“Hmm, no, we can’t have that.” Arthur looks thoughtful for a moment, sad around the edges, before it’s chased away by a smirk that Merlin is intimately familiar with. “You’ll just have to help warm it up.”
Merlin heaves a put-upon sigh, but can’t stop his grin. “My work is never done.”
When he stands, Arthur follows him. Merlin knows they should go back to the great hall, but Arthur has lost a father and gained a kingdom and Merlin was only partly joking when he said his work was never done. He’ll make sure Arthur has space enough and time to find his center and become the king Merlin knows he is.
Arthur/Merlin
PG
1266
Merlin offers Arthur reassurance as only he can.
Written in response to
shetiger's prompt "Arthur/Merlin, spring flowers." I was sort of attacked by ideas. This was one of them. So thank you! :)Thank you
ginnith and trademybike for giving this a look and giving me reassurance.Title inspired by e.e. cummings.
Merlin finds Arthur alone in one of the gardens, seated on a bench, sitting with his elbows on his knees, head bowed in the pale light of the late winter afternoon. From where he stands, Merlin can’t see Arthur’s face, but he’s sure he knows what he would find there: expression blank, Arthur staring off into space as though he believes if he looks long enough, he’ll find the answers he’s missing.
Though he’s silent, Merlin knows Arthur is aware of him. Arthur always knows when Merlin is present, is never startled by him. Arthur can look up in a crowded room and find Merlin’s eyes unerringly. Merlin imagines it’s similar to his ability to know where Arthur is at any given moment, if he just closes his eyes and focuses. It’s a connection neither of them questions.
He moves forward until he’s almost in front of Arthur.
“Merlin,” Arthur says. “Didn’t take you long.”
Shrugging, Merlin turns and sits next to Arthur, hissing at the feel of the cold stone through his trousers. He shifts, pressing closer to Arthur’s side, mirrors his position. “It never does,” he answers.
Arthur just stares out at the garden. Merlin wonders what he sees to make him focus so.
It’s not much to look at now—bare branches and barren earth—but the rest of the year the garden is a fragrant haven from the rest of Camelot, set far enough away from the center of activity and isolated enough to be an escape.
Situated like a small courtyard, it’s enclosed on all four sides by white-stone walls, arches opening into walkways. Paved paths cut across the space, dividing the garden into four corners. The trees and hedges look sad in the winter next to the bare soil, but Merlin knows come spring that will change.
“It was my mother’s, you know,” Arthur says, breaking the silence that has settled around them like a blanket. “He planted it for her.”
“He loved her very much.” Merlin doesn’t actually know how Uther felt about his wife, but he’s been in Camelot years now and that’s more than long enough to hear the stories. Long enough to know that Uther did many things for his wife or in her name and that this garden is one of the better ones.
“I never knew her,” he says. “We never talked about her. At the time, I never really cared to. But now…Now I wonder if we should have. If I had asked about her if that would have…” He trails off and then turns his head, looking at Merlin for the first time since Merlin saw him slip from the crowded hall, and smiles ruefully. “Pretty selfish, don’t you think?”
Merlin shakes his head. “You can’t miss something you’ve never known,” he says. “Not really.” He should know; Arthur never knew his mother, but Merlin doesn’t even know his father’s name. “You might feel its absence, but you can’t miss it.”
Arthur stares at him for a moment, face sad and fond, before turning back to the garden. Merlin watches him—pale and quiet and thoughtful, the weight of the kingdom already weighing heavy on his shoulders—and knows that Arthur is afraid. Of loss, of failure, of leaving nothing behind when his time comes. Afraid that he’ll leave behind nothing but a garden as testimony to his love and a land fearful of his wrath as testimony to his power.
“You’ll be a great king, Arthur,” he says. “The land will thrive.”
Arthur looks at him again. “How do you know? How can you be certain?”
“Because I know you,” he says. “Because you’re a good man.”
Arthur’s eyes are wide, fearful and trusting, like he wants to ask for reassurance but is afraid of what he’ll get instead.
“Have I ever lied to you?”
Arthur looks at him pointedly and Merlin realizes what he’s said. He blushes, but doesn’t look away. “That was omission of fact. Have I ever lied to you about this?”
“You’re judgment is skewed.” His face is a strange mix of skeptical and hopeful. “And you’re mentally deficient. I don’t know why I listen to you at all.”
Merlin rolls his eyes and reaches across to where Arthur’s hands hang between his knees, wraps his hand around the nearest wrist, and tugs until Arthur is angled toward him and Merlin’s holding his left hand in both of his.
“Merlin, what are you—?”
“Shh,” Merlin says, flashing a glare at him for good measure. Arthur closes his mouth, waiting. “Do you trust me?”
“What?”
He squeezes Arthur’s hand. “Do you trust me?”
“Do you—You really have to ask?” Arthur’s face is confused.
“No, I guess not.” He smiles reassuringly. “Now, close your eyes.”
Arthur searches his face for…something. Merlin’s not sure what he’s looking for, but apparently he finds it because his eyes slip closed.
When Merlin closes his eyes, he can see the land as it will be: prosperous and free from fear; blossoming, thriving under Arthur’s reign after waiting so patiently for Arthur to rise and bring with him a golden age.
Merlin holds Arthur’s hand between his own and tries to show him all of this. Tries to show him his people united and happy, his land bountiful. Merlin shows Arthur his place in all of it, shining at the center like the promise of a new day, a king worthy of the love of his people, worthy of their respect. After all this, he shows Arthur Merlin’s own place at his side, constant and unwavering. They are in this together; two sides of one coin, two halves of one whole.
Arthur draws a quick breath and when Merlin opens his eyes, Arthur’s watching him, face full of wonder. “You really believe that?” he asks, voice hushed between them.
“I know it,” he says, and it’s the truth. Around them he can feel life lying dormant beneath the surface, waiting. He can feel the eager greenness of it, impatient for spring to come and free it from the earth. It won’t take much coaxing to get it to grow; it wants to, for Merlin. For Arthur. The time has come.
Arthur leans forward, eyes closed, until his forehead rests against Merlin’s, their breath mingling in the cool winter air. They stay like that for a moment before Arthur tilts his head just so and fits their mouths together. The kiss tastes like relief and thank you and all of the things they don’t say to each other but mean all the same.
When he pulls back, Merlin shivers and it has as much to do with the look in Arthur’s eyes as it does with the fact that it’s winter and he can no longer feel his toes. “I think it’s time we went inside,” he says. “I won’t be blamed for the new king freezing his arse off.”
“Hmm, no, we can’t have that.” Arthur looks thoughtful for a moment, sad around the edges, before it’s chased away by a smirk that Merlin is intimately familiar with. “You’ll just have to help warm it up.”
Merlin heaves a put-upon sigh, but can’t stop his grin. “My work is never done.”
When he stands, Arthur follows him. Merlin knows they should go back to the great hall, but Arthur has lost a father and gained a kingdom and Merlin was only partly joking when he said his work was never done. He’ll make sure Arthur has space enough and time to find his center and become the king Merlin knows he is.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 01:48 am (UTC)(I so rule at people writing fic lately. \o/)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:26 pm (UTC)I'm so thrilled that this worked. It's been a while since I finished something not rated NC-17 that I was a bit worried. But the images would not get out of my head.
(I so rule at people writing fic lately. \o/)
You do! And this was only one idea that I had. There are at least two others knocking about in my noggin.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 04:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 07:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 04:22 am (UTC)...Arthur has lost a father and gained a kingdom...
Very well said.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 04:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 04:41 am (UTC)And this bit: Arthur looks at him pointedly and Merlin realizes what he’s said. He blushes, but doesn’t look away. “That was omission of fact. Have I ever lied to you about this?”
That bit made me smile inanely. *happy sigh* Thanks for this!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:04 pm (UTC)Yea! I love it when that happens. :)
Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 05:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 05:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 06:57 am (UTC)Lovely.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 08:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 08:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:10 pm (UTC)Thank you so much!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 10:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 10:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 12:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 06:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 10:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-06 11:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:16 pm (UTC)Thank you! :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-07 02:19 am (UTC)Fantastic imagery.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-07 01:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:19 pm (UTC)That's such a lovely way of putting it.
I love fics where Merlin is just there for Arthur and Arthur can admit, in his way, that he needs that.
Thank you so much! :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-07 02:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-09 08:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-10 06:38 pm (UTC)"Afraid that he’ll leave behind nothing but a garden as testimony to his love and a land fearful of his wrath as testimony to his power."
Thanks for sharing!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-05-16 05:12 am (UTC)I do feel bad for Uther. Like things went wrong for him and never quite got back on track.