Merlin clenched his fist, hiding it behind his back. He stood, silently fuming, as Agravaine continued prodding Arthur’s feelings, manipulating them. Merlin sent silent glares towards Agravaine as Arthur let his uncle manipulate him.
How dare Agravaine doubt Arthur’s rule? Arthur is a better man than he will ever be, that lying, gold-digging, backstabbing bastard. He is using Arthur’s father against him- making Arthur doubt his self-worth.
Agravaine finally met his eyes over Arthur's shoulder, freezing. Merlin glared harder. Arthur followed Agravaine’s eyes and turned back. Merlin schooled his expression and morphed it into a bored one. All he had to do was think of the grain reports that they discussed at the beginning of the meeting.
Tomorrow, Agravaine would enter the council room with a black eye and a limp. He would explain how an old man ambushed him on the stairs, punching him and sending him toppling down.
Merlin silently chuckled. Arthur’s back was in a tense line, clearly not believing the story. Little did he know, the story was one hundred percent true. Arthur looked like he was trying not to smile, asking Agravaine to describe his old assaulter.
Merlin denied having anything to do with the encounter. Arthur gave him a disbelieving look but let the matter drop. It could have been anyone. It’s not like Merlin’s the only one that can turn into an old man. Morgana’s almost mastered it too. So who knows what exactly happened?
...
While Merlin’s and Morgana’s magic remained a secret to the court, he knew that Arthur had already started drafting and revising the magic ban. Agravaine just had to find it, which led to him questioning Arthur’s morale.
He used the oldest trick in the book: bringing up Arthur’s parents. Merlin was already drafting his next attack.
Merlin muttered a single spell, one that he had found hidden in the library. The Goblin’s section (as he’s come to call it) was a door to endless possibilities. It contained books on everything from dark magic to light, protective spells to offensive enchantments, and the best of them all: pranks.
Agravaine was in for a treat.
Not an hour later, Agravaine pounded Arthur’s door, almost knocking it down. He dragged Arthur, and by extension, Merlin, to his room, all the while spouting nonsense about how his furniture was stuck to the ceiling.
“Uncle,” Arthur began, “I see no problem here.”
All three men stared at the perfectly normal and appropriately placed furniture. Agravaine gaped like a fish. Merlin pinched his own arm to keep from laughing.
“Perhaps a visit to Gaius, my lord?” Merlin perked in. Arthur didn’t turn around. Agravaine shot him a dirty look.
“There will be no need for that. Good night, Arthur,” Agravaine bit back, embarrassed. He strode into his room, slamming the door behind him.
“Wonder what that was about,” Arthur said, barely concealing his amused look. Merlin simply shrugged.
Merlin once again stood behind Arthur, silently fuming. It wasn’t directed to Agravaine this time.
...
Instead, it was Prince Karl, visiting Prince from the North. What started as a night of friendly fun and talk dissolved into very unfriendly jabs and gloats.
Prince Karl had no sense of manners. He dared to compare Arthur’s rule to Uther’s, calling him soft. Arthur was not soft. Arthur is a fierce warrior, honorable Knight, and a renowned King, adored and respected by all.
Well, perhaps Arthur was a bit soft, but in an honorable way. He is righteous and just; sentencing punishments that fit the crime. Arthur is fair and compassionate when the occasion calls for it. Arthur is Merlin’s King, the only one he will ever serve, ever love.
Merlin sunk back into the shadows, blending in with the darkness. He let his magic take over, looking straight at Karl. An obnoxiously loud burp left the Prince’s mouth. And then another.
Morgana turned back, as if she knew, and caught Merlin’s eyes. He couldn’t get rid of the evidence fast enough. A knowing look crossed her face.
She smirked and turned back, lips moving in a silent spell. Her eyes flashed gold, but nothing happened. She caught Merlin's eyes again and winked.
Prince Karl excused himself later that night, saying he was required back in his kingdom, immediately. He didn’t make it far into the courtyard before his hood got knocked off, revealing a flashy mop of pink hair. He hurried into his carriage, but the damage was already done.
Merlin passed Morgana in the hallway, giving her a nod and a high-five. It wasn’t long before the two dissolved into laughter, clutching each other for support, trying and failing to look cool.
...
“What are you hiding, Merlin?” said Arthur’s voice from behind him. Merlin jumped and, in a moment of panic, magicked away his beautiful work of art. Dammit.
“Fuck- Nothing!” Merlin turned around. A glance in the armory told him that his spectacular self-sabotaging crossbow wasn’t magicked into the abyss. It was hanging from the ceiling. How the hell is it still hanging on?
Arthur raised his eyebrow, seeing through Merlin’s lie.
Merlin shrugged and stepped aside, presenting the empty table. A bit too empty. Very empty. It seemed like Merlin had magicked Arthur’s swords along with the bow. Merlin trailed his eyes towards the crossbow, but Arthur’s other weapons were nowhere to be seen.
Arthur, on the other hand, let out a long-suffering sigh, following Merlin’s line of sight. He eyed the crossbow hanging from the ceiling with an exasperated look.
“Context, please?” Arthur asked, all straight-faced and unamused. Merlin swallowed nervously, his mind racing with excuses he could use. “The truth, if you will,” Arthur added.
Merlin sighed, resigned. “Well, as you can see, it is a crossbow.” Arthur gave him a pointed look. “A crossbow that backfires on the fifth shot.”
“Why would it do that, Merlin?”
“To make it look like an accident.”
Arthur placed his hands on his hips, waiting for an explanation. Merlin refused to give in. Arthur finally barked out, “Why?”
Merlin pursed his lips together, nodding. “Well, Lord Marco called you unfit to rule because you knighted commoners and then invited you out for a hunt, so I thought it was a great opportunity. Since knighting commoners was the best thing you’ve done. Not because he insulted you, obviously.”
Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his face afterward. “What will I ever do with you?” he asked, and Merlin tried not to feel offended.
“Well, you can start with helping me get that crossbow down-”
Arthur interrupted him with a chuckle, which then turned into full-blown laughter. “Agravaine? That was you, wasn’t it? Also, Lady Annabel and her feathers! Oh, and Prince Karl and his pink hair. And Sir Laurve’s flimsy sword!”
Merlin ducked his head, feeling his face heat up. “Prince Karl was Morgana,” he protested.
“Should have known,” Arthur said, voice laced with delight? When Merlin looked up, he did not recall being this close to Arthur. He still had a stupid grin plastered on his face.
“Um- Well, they had it coming!” Merlin frowned. “Being a prat is no excuse for them to insult the King-”
“And you’re allowed to?” Merlin didn’t get to answer because the next thing he knew, there were soft lips pressed against his. All that he could think of was the fact that Arthur’s pressing his lips against his, kissing him-
Soon the initial shock wore off, and Merlin remembered that kissing is a two-way street. Merlin brought his hand up to thread it through Arthur’s hair, marveling at its silky texture.
Arthur broke off the kiss sooner than deemed acceptable, according to Merlin. So Merlin pulled Arthur into another kiss, letting it drag a bit longer.
“God, you’re like an angry adorable cat,” Arthur mumbled against Merlin’s lips, providing no further explanation. Merlin snapped out of his post-kissing cloudy haze, realizing that Arthur’s tormenting him again.
“I am not adorable. I am the greatest warlock to ever-”
“See?” Arthur cut off, “adorable.” Arthur pulled back far enough to boop Merlin’s nose. “Now, promise that you won’t kill nobles? I don’t pay them much mind, you know?”
Merlin was about to say yes because he can’t deny Arthur anything right after he managed to compliment and insult Merlin in the same sentence. No matter what he says, Merlin is not adorable. And Arthur should not have to go through such treatment from other nobles. He deserves better.
“Fine,” Merlin conceited. Arthur never said that he couldn’t injure them. Plus, Morgana has promised no such thing, and Agravaine is still strutting around the castle, acting like he owns the place…
Whatever happens, Merlin can confidently say that Agravaine had it coming.
