Merlin One Shots

Protect You

A/N: Requested by MerlinandArthur2021
I hope you like it!

Setting: Post 4x08 but before 4x09

Description/Prompt: Gwaine steals Arthur and Merlin's clothes, so naturally, they don't leave their rooms. Until, in desperation, Arthur seeks out Merlin, only to find his manservant with scars marking his body.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or it's characters.

       Arthur grumbled to himself as he paced in his room.

        Naked.

        Gwaine had thought it would be funny if he took all of the king's clothes.

All. Of. Them. 

Arthur had woken up one morning, only to find Gwaine holding an armful clothing, minus the trousers he had gone to sleep in. Which- as he had found out later- had been ripped beyond use in his sleep. How Gwaine managed that, Arthur would never know.

         So naturally, Arthur stayed in his room. The first day had been alright, and Arthur had passed most of his duties over to his uncle. Gwen brought his meals, (while the king remained safely hidden under his blankets) and informed Arthur that Merlin had fallen victim to the same prank. At least Arthur could find some joy in this.

However, by the second day, Arthur was bored. Really bored.

With a resigned sigh, he wrapped one of his blankets around his waist, and peeked out his door. The hall was fairly empty, with the exception of two chattering servants. Arthur waited until they passed, then quickly darted into the hall. He jogged quickly through the castle, silently cheering at the sight of empty hallways. Arthur moved along, heading towards where he would hopefully find Merlin. Hopefully Merlin could cheer Arthur up, whether he wanted to or not. (Cough, Arthur's gonna laugh at him, cough). Arthur was so focused at the thought of humiliating Merlin, he hadn't heard the sound of footsteps behind him.

"Sire?" Arthur froze when he heard a familiar voice behind him. The king stood there for a moment, as if ignoring the source of the voice would make it go away. With a slight growl escaping his lips, he turned to face the source of the voice.

"Leon!" Arthur forced a cheerful tone, and he could feel his face turn red in embarrassment. The knight was staring at the blanket with a raised eyebrow. "Haven't you heard about the little... joke," the way he said joke implied that he didn't think it was funny. "Gwaine pulled? I'm sure it's the talk of the castle by now." Leon hid an amused grin to the best of his abilities.

"Yes, I heard." Leon said slowly, his voice shaking. One more glance at the blanket, and he couldn't hold it in anymore. Leon burst out laughing, while Arthur glared.

"Are you done?" Arthur snapped, and Leon nodded, practically gasping for air.

"I'm sorry, my lord, but to see you walking around in a blanket... at least Merlin got to keep his trousers."

"What?" Leon winced at the loud tone of the king's voice. "How did Merlin manage to weasel his way into keeping his trousers!" The knight simply shrugged, irritating the king more.

Arthur was muttering angrily to himself as he whirled around, and began to head off to who-knows-where. As Leon watched him retreat, he began to shake with laughter once more.

Gwaine was a genius.

➿➿➿➿➿

Arthur pounded on the door to Gaius's chambers. He waited for a moment, before opening the door. When he walked in, he found the room empty. Arthur sighed, pulling the blanket up as it began to slip once more. However, a small smirk appeared on his face when he recognized the stairs to Merlin's room. Carefully, he crept up them, trying not make any noise as he walked. Arthur pressed his ear to the door, and the smile grew wider when he heard the sound of pages turning from the other side. He placed his hand on the door, before pushing it open with great force.

"Merlin!" Arthur boomed, stepping into the bedroom. Merlin was sitting on his bed, with a strange book in his hands. Quickly, he stuffed the book under his pillow, and he bolted upwards.

"Arthur! What are you-" he glanced down at the blanket, then back up at Arthur. "Gwaine got you too?" But Arthur didn't answer. He was too busy staring at Merlin's chest. Or, more specifically, the marks on it.

"How did that happen?" Arthur's voice was barely above a whisper. Merlin blanched, bringing his arms up to his chest defensively. Random scars littered his skin. Some, Arthur recognized to be sword wounds, a few others from arrows. But the worst one was a horrible burn, right in the center of his manservant's chest. His wrists looked like they had been clapped in irons one too many times.

"It doesn't matter." Merlin responded, keeping his eyes trained on the floor.

"Merlin." Arthur said quietly. Merlin flinched, but didn't look up. "Merlin. Look at me." The king repeated, with more force. Reluctantly, he met Arthur's stare, his jaw clenched. "Merlin, I've seen less scars on knights. I've seen less scars on myself!" Arthur hissed.

"Well, maybe it's because I'm always saving you." Merlin tried to force a joking tone into his voice, but one look at Arthur's face made him drop it. The king tapped his foot impatiently, clearly waiting for an explanation."It's nothing, Arthur." Merlin insisted. He turned around, expecting Arthur to leave, but the sound of a strangled gasp made him freeze.

Arthur stared in horror at the abundance of scars that also marked up the back of his manservant. More arrow wounds, marks made by swords, an old injury from a mace on his shoulder, and- were those chain imprints?- there was also an odd scar at the base of his neck, this one looking more recent. The most horrible one was a wound on his lower back, where blackened veins surrounded the scar. Arthur recognized it as a Serket sting, and images flashed through his mind: dead knights, horrible tales, and boyhood terrors.

"Arthur... sometimes people want to get to you." Merlin was quiet, and he remained facing the wall. "And sometimes, they try to get me to help them do that. Obviously, I'd never betray you, but some believe that with proper... motivation," Merlin spat the word. "That I'll help them."

An image of Merlin, chained by- by monsters, beaten, bloodied, and tortured flashed through Arthur's mind. The king shoved it away when he began to feel sick.

Still, something didn't seem right.

"Merlin. I am not leaving until I receive a proper explanation." Arthur demanded, his eyes not leaving the scars. Merlin's shoulders sagged, and he turned around. Arthur's gaze once again fell on the burn mark.

"Why does it matter, Arthur?" Merlin asked. Arthur's eyes snapped up to his.

"Because," Arthur took a step forward, but hesitated when Merlin winced. "Because," he repeated, his softening. "You matter. You shouldn't have more scars than some of my most experienced knights! You're only a manservant, Merlin. My manservant- no, you're more than that. And I should be able to keep you from harm, I should be able to protect you." Merlin ran a hand through his hair nervously, and he sat on the edge of his bed.

"If I tell you the truth, do you promise to listen? And I mean really listen." Arthur nodded, and moved to sit down on the bed as well. A snort from Merlin made him stop, however, and Arthur gave him an odd look. Merlin looked as if he were in pain, and suddenly, he burst out laughing.

"What?"

"I just don't know if I'll be able to do this with you not wearing any trousers." Merlin choked out through the laughter. Arthur's face turned red.

"Merlin!"

.