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Written for this prompt. Uther has never understood his son's relationship with his manservant and thinks it may just be a one-off fling that is until one day when Merlin is found bloody and beaten and is fighting for his life. Uther finds his son huddled up in his chambers crying, and reminds him of how he felt when Ygraine was dying/ had died. Without saying a word he comforts his son and begins to understand their relationship
"Today, I was making out with my boyfriend and he was fingering me. After he left, my mum says to me "I wish my sex life was as interesting as yours." She had walked in and we hadn't even noticed. FML" Except it's Uther who gets an eyeful.
The first time Merlin kisses him, completely out of the blue, Arthur is not at all concerned. He just doesn't know what he's in for.
“You can’t,” Gwaine says in a pained voice. “Merlin... True or false: if Arthur had so much as a single gay bone in his body, a single gay hair on his head, even, you’d be married to him by now?”
“Buried alive,” Merlin contemplated, his voice light in direct contrast to the pitch dark of a casket buried underneath the earth. “That’s a new one.”
Merlin’s just enjoying a regular day as a 17-year-old in Ealdor, wandering in the forest, collecting herbs. Whoops? The tree spirits attack! Suddenly, he’s being presented to the God of Love. Um, who happens to be named Arthur.
Deep in the woods in the frozen heart of winter, a careless comment leads to a redefinition of Arthur's relationship with his manservant.
"Come now, Prince. Lets have ourselves a bet. If I win, Merlin is my squire from now on. If you win, he’s yours."
