Parallel Deviations

[million_star]

Title: Parallel Deviations
Author: millionstar
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: Hmm. PG perhaps?
Warnings: Just a wee hint of angst.
Summary: Reflection in the wake of an accident.
Feedback: Is appreciated if you're so inclined. More importantly, just enjoy.
Disclaimer: The Almighty BBC owns this version of Merlin and Arthur, not I. No profit is being made, no offense intended and this is fiction.
Author's Note: As always, I can't thank dolce_piccante enough for all she does for me. She's the best, make no mistake. Without her encouragement this would not have been written. Thank you, boo. <3 To my fellow museslash members on my f-list, I will return you to your previously scheduled Belldom with my next update (most likely Seventeen Steps or Fierce Frequencies). What can I say, these two just took hold of my heart and I had to write them at least once. :)

To those of you who are here from merlinxarthur, this is my first attempt at writing this in this fandom and, well, I could tell you that I'm not at all terrified but that would be a lie. I just hope that I've done your boys even a little bit of justice with this; enjoy, and thank you for letting me borrow them for a night.

Dedication: For shuralove, who is responsible for my even discovering Merlin, Bradley and Colin in the first place. (Damn you, woman! *shakes fist* Lol.) I hope you like, A. <3

Pain, searing and overwhelming.

"Merlin. Merlin. Merlin!"

Voices, strained and tense.

"...poisoned....arrow..."

"No! I'll carry him! Ride on ahead and rouse Gaius. Now!"

Arms, around his body, tightly... protectively.

These were the only things Merlin was even remotely aware of from the instant the arrow had pierced his skin.

And now he heard Arthur's voice, soft, yet imploring, floating into his ear as the horse that carried them galloped over the meadow as fast as she could. "Don't you dare leave me." The prince's voice shifted in tone as he continued, now taking on his trademark arrogance, laced with a hint of irritation. "I forbid it, do you hear me, Merlin? Getting yourself shot with a poisoned arrow; I swear I think sometimes that you were put upon this Earth simply to irritate the life out of me."

If Merlin had been stronger he would have giggled at Arthur's little outburst. Or, failing that, he might have even went so far as to remind Arthur that he was just as adept at irritating the life out of people. Their verbal sparring was something the warlock never tired of, for it was a deadly potent aphrodisiac. Sometimes for Merlin, the lines blurred, and all that mattered was that Arthur had the ability to devastate him completely. Whether he was busy barking orders in Merlin's direction or choosing to use his royal mouth in a more carnal fashion while the moon hung high in the sky, one fact remained: Arthur Pendragon never did anything half way - be it in the fashion that words that fell from his mouth or in the way he satisfied his lust.

Whispers at night. A lie that soothed them both.

With that memory swirling around in his mind, Merlin fell into black yet again.

The next time his eyes opened for a moment, his they were filled with grand, flowing flags and the majestic towers of the castle.

Camelot. Finally.

He was being lowered into someone else's arms, but only for long enough for Arthur to dismount, then the prince gathered Merlin to his body again.

"What is the meaning of all this? What has happened?"

Uther.

"...ambushed-"

Arthur.

"Bring him to my-"

Gaius.

"No," Arthur replied calmly, "he stays in my chambers, Gaius. There is no room for discussion."

He could sense a flurry of activity, stairs being ascended, Arthur refusing to release Merlin's body until he gently placed him on his bed.

Arthur's bed.

Our bed?

Yes. Our bed.

Before he passed out for good he wondered if anyone else in the room had noticed the quick kiss that Arthur had just dropped to the side of his head. Because he had passed out for good he didn't see Arthur excuse himself to collapse, exhausted, in the corridor and bow his head in silent benediction.

* * * * *

Days passed, each one more stressful than the previous for Arthur. While he was relieved that Gaius seemed to be able to identify the poison and had administered the appropriate antidote, his concern and worry for Merlin was still present, for said antidote was a slow-working concoction. To complicate matters, his father had questioned him more than once as to why a servant was being allowed to convalesce in Arthur's chambers, and each time he did the prince's answer was the same.

"Because I wish it."

The phrase was always uttered with such a tone of finality that it merely left the King shaking his head. Uther was baffled as to why Arthur had taken such an interest in his servant's condition but at heart he really couldn't be bothered to worry about it at length.

Arthur had seen to it that a guard was stationed outside his room daily, the only people being allowed to enter were Gaius and Gwen. The former would stay as long as he could each day, to administer medication and assess his patient's condition. The latter would take time out from her duties to Morgana to, as she put it to Gaius and Arthur with a warm smile, "sit and read to my dear friend in the hopes it might hasten his wakening." In the evenings, when Arthur returned to his chambers, he would dismiss Gaius, with the promise that he would send for him if he needed him in any way. It was then that Arthur would fashion a makeshift bed out of a pile of blankets on the floor as close to Merlin as possible.

It was on late on the fourth night that Merlin finally came back to them. Arthur sensed rather than heard him stirring, and sat up so quickly he busted his head on the bedframe.

"Ow!" he cried, his hand rubbing the back of his head. When he remembered himself finally he stood slowly and was elated to see Merlin staring back at him with exhausted eyes.

"Clumsy," he teased weakly.

Arthur's face twisted into a glare, but only for a moment. He couldn't even pretend to be irritated with Merlin now; now an embarrassed smile graced his face. "Not my finest moment, no."

The brunet exhaled shakily, attempting to sit up but merely collapsing back into the pile of pillows he was resting upon. "I didn't do a good job of dodging that arrow, did I?"

"No. You could say that, perhaps, it wasn't your finest moment." Merlin smiled weakly as Arthur continued. "I must send for Gaius, don't move."

"No, don't. Wait until morning. Please."

"But... how do you feel? Is there anything I can get you? Anything you want at all? Food? Dri-"

"I just want you to come closer," the brunet answered softly, sheepishly; Arthur blushed despite himself. Merlin became more aware of his surroundings and wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "Wait... why am I in your bed and not in mine?"

"Aren't you always in my bed these days?"

Merlin considered this. "True. Just seemed odd."

"What's your point? Is there something wrong with my royal bed?"

"No, no! I mean-"

Arthur narrowed his eyes playfully, advancing slowly on the brunet. "Does it displease you?" His fingers dug gently into Merlin's uninjured side, Merlin laughing weakly at first, then putting one hand up in surrender with a pained moan.

"Easy, it still hurts a bit."

Impusively, the blond threw the covers back and leaned down to press a barely-there kiss (or five... or seven) to the bare skin around Merlin's bandaged wound. Merlin's heart skipped a beat at the sweetness of the action and let one of his hands tangle in the prince's hair, his fingers lazily spinning golden strands. The mere feel of Arthur's lips on his skin again took his breath away, even in his slightly diminished state. He closed his eyes, his other hand now full of blond hair, and guided Arthur's head up his chest, the blond understanding the request and pressing his lush lips to the brunet's nipple. Merlin arched his back, a purr of satisfaction escaping his mouth.

Having the opportunity to worship this body again was like a homecoming for the prince. Even though he didn't want to stop, Arthur relented, content to pull Merlin into his arms; there would be time when Merlin was stronger to indulge themselves further. He nuzzled the head of brown hair resting against his chest and kissed it.

"I wanted you here. Simple as that. And I think we both know by now that I tend to get what I want," he said simply. Merlin shifted in Arthur's arms, raising his head to steal a proper kiss, both of them sighing into it. "I-I have missed this. I have missed you," the blond mumbled, sucking Merlin's bottom lip into his mouth. "Been too long."

"How many days?" the brunet gasped against the prince's warm mouth.

"Four."

Merlin clung to Arthur's body, their lips continuing to join softly until the warlock needed to take a breath. He smiled, settling against the blond's chest. "I've been right here, though. You could have had your way with me if you'd wished."

"That's no fun, though. Well," the blond smirked, "you know what I mean." They both chuckled, their eyes falling closed, arms wound tightly around each other. Merlin raised his head an inch or so to press a kiss to Arthur's pulse point, the prince trying his best to swallow down the emotion that was manifesting in his throat. When he spoke again it was in a hushed tone. "I thought I'd lost you."

Merlin didn't speak; he simply closed his eyes allowed Arthur to continue. He caressed the blond's bare shoulder, feeling his fingertips glide across smooth, golden skin as they had done so many nights before.

"I feel like I've only just found you... and I thought I'd lost you."

"Push it from your mind," Merlin replied, "I'll be fine. Don't let it trouble you."

"That's just it. I can't push you from my mind, Merlin; you are my constant, always in there, in one form or another. You're all I think about. Do you have any clue how maddening that is?" he grumbled.

Merlin giggled softly. "I'm sure it vexes you, Sire." Arthur sat up and turned to the warlock, his eyes carrying a sadness that made Merlin's stomach do a little flip. There was also a seriousness there. Clearly, the prince was not joking.

"Don't call me 'Sire'. Not here, please. Use my name, Merlin," he whispered. "Nobody uses it quite like you."

"Arthur," the brunet intoned, "please, it's okay." Gently, he pulled Arthur back down to the bed, his brow furrowed in confusion as to what had the blond so upset.

"Tell me again. I need to hear it."

Merlin closed his eyes and steeled himself as spoke the old, now familiar lie once more. "We'll find a way."

The warlock winced, not at all pleased with how quickly it had fallen from his lips. He was less pleased that he was finding that he was beginning to doubt the falsehood's effectiveness. Arthur exhaled against his neck and his warm body relaxed completely when Merlin spoke; the words had the same effect as if they'd been the harbinger of a spell. In that moment, the doubts drifted away and the the brunet decided it was worth it.

If the lie could bring them at least a momentary feeling of peace, it would always be worth it.

Merlin snuggled up to Arthur, the prince pulling a blanket over their bodies. It took them a while to get comfortable; Arthur was afraid that he was hurting the brunet and it took Merlin a few minutes to convince him that he was fully able to lie on his right side, his head on the blond's shoulder. The brunet pecked the skin at the apex of Arthur's arm, the blond rolling his eyes. He shook his head.

"I will never understand why you are so fascinated with my armpits."

"It's not for you to understand," Merlin shot back, "so don't worry your pretty little royal head over it."

"Pretty little royal head?! Excuse me? I," the prince announced haughtily, laughing despite himself, "will get you for that one when you're better, Merlin."

"Good."

As per their typical routine, Merlin allowed his hand to slide to the very center of the blond's chest. Also, as per their typical routine, Arthur covered the brunet's hand with his own. They were silent for a few moments, sleep threatening to overtake them. Fingers intertwined and breaths became steadier as the minutes passed, yet Merlin remained fascinated at the thundering he felt under his fingers.

"Your heart, Arthur. It's racing."

The prince turned to him. "That's okay. It's not mine. Not anymore."

"If that's true," Merlin answered, tightening his grip on the blond's hand, "then I refuse to believe that it's hopeless. I refuse."

With that proclamation, wound tightly in each other's arms, they slept.

An illicit addiction that made him crave the nighttime.

A bond born of a warmth like none he'd ever known before.

The way that a heartbeat that was not his own could feel beneath his touch.

These were the only things Merlin was even remotely aware of from the instant Arthur Pendragon had come into his life.