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The Heir and the Exile

Summary:

Merlin is fed up. Arthur is riled up. What happens when their only realise from all the duties they have is each other?

Notes:

A lot of people have asked me to write some Arthur Mpreg, I do lean more towards Merlin being the one pregnant, but I am very happy to oblige! I'm going to have a collection of them, and I am definitely going to be taking any requests you have! Hope you like and don't forget if you like a fic, please comment to let me know, it encourages me to complete my stories lol.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“That’s it!” Merlin shouted at the top of his voice. It came out of him on its own accord, having been punched out of him after being shoved to the ground for the hundredth time.

All the knights on the training pitch stopped moving to stare at him. The older ones who had served longer under Uther’s rule recoiled, ready to punish the servant for such an attitude. The younger ones who had served under Arthur longer were snickering, very used to Merlin’s petulance around the crown prince.

Arthur was panting and sweat dripped down his temples. Both the servant and master had their hair plastered to their foreheads and had heaving chests; Merlin’s more visible as he wasn’t wearing armour. The prince glared at his servant, clutching the training spear in both hands so tightly the wood creaked. “We are not done here,” he ground out, rolling his shoulders readying for another round.

Merlin glared back just as fiercely, determined and absolutely miffed, and utterly exhausted.

“Oh, we are, I’m done, and you need to get ready for tonight’s dinner,” he told his prince, wiping his damp face with his sleeve. Every joint in his body protested as he climbed back to his feet. He was no longer steady on them, his legs trembled with overexertion.

“One more round,” Arthur commanded, throwing the spear into the earth so it stood on its own. He took a step towards Merlin, attempting to shadow him with his build and role in this kingdom.

Merlin’s eyes rolled. He’s such a child sometimes. He wanted to scoff, but that would require more muscle workout than he was willing to do. He just wanted to get back inside where it was warm.

“No.” He stood his ground, looking Arthur right in the eyes.

He should be punished for this. Everyone on the pitch knew this. Uther’s knights were poised to arrest Merlin. Arthur’s knights poised to become a nuisance and come in-between if that were to happen.

Arthur continued to glare down at his infuriating servant. This stubborn, big eared mess of a young man who always got in Arthur’s way. This annoyingly loyal man Arthur would never admit who’s word he listened to more than any other.

The blue of Merlin’s eyes seemed to wash over him, revealing to him the strain in his muscles and the ache in his shoulder. His body obeying to Merlin without his consent. His whole torso drooped, and the knights coughed and went back to training, Leon cracking the metaphorical whip behind them now that Arthur was sure to retire for the afternoon.

Not happy with his body’s betrayal, Arthur makes Merlin carry all his weapons and spare armour back to his chambers.

 

-

 

That evening, after the dull dinner and Arthur’s mood not improving, Merlin had just had enough.

“Did you see how lord Gilway was massacring that pork chop? It should be a crime to eat like that,” Merlin remarked while he was putting Arthur’s clothes away for the evening. Arthur doesn’t say anything from where he was sat at his desk, having ensconced himself with a single piece of parchment he knew Uther gave the prince that morning. The whole reason for his foul personality today.

Sighing, Merlin finished hanging and folding the clean laundry and putting anything dirty in the basket hamper beside the wardrobe. Bored, he went to Arthur’s bed to make sure the pillows were fluffed how the prince liked them. Bored, he continued to prattle, stretching his body over the bed to reach the other pillow. Stretching his aches helped ease the tense mist in the room. He commented on the other lords and nobility, until he sensed Arthur move about the room. Merlin was straightening the duvet when that presence ended up right behind him.

He didn’t move. This was Arthur. They were both tired and ready for bed, if they both acted a little out of character or let down a few defences it was normal at this hour after the day they had had.

However, when Arthur’s hand found it’s place on Merlin’s hip, it through him off balance in all aspects. The fingers traced the line of his waistband until his hand cupped his side, thumb pressing into his hip bone.

“Wha-” he didn’t continue because Arthur’s front was pressed to his back and every inch of him tingled from the contact. They were both rigid. This, what they denied each other daily. This, which could see awful consequences if seen by the wrong eyes…

Merlin didn’t know what Arthur was doing, how he was doing it despite what they both knew. His mind had other ideas, begging for him not to stop.

Arthur didn’t know what he was doing full stop. He didn’t act like this, but Merlin brought it out of him. He made Arthur feel normal. There was a freshness to Merlin he craved and after the hard training and the contents of the letter he wanted to seclude himself off with Merlin’s calming aura.

Merlin moved his head to the side slowly. Arthur, in synchronicity, moved his other hand around Merlin to hold it to his chest. Over his beating heart, pulling the younger man closer to him.

With all the expectations over the prince’s head, and Merlin’s destiny always a few steps behind him, for one night, they let them melt away and divested themselves of worries and melted into each other.  As they always will.

Chapter Text

It wouldn’t be the last time. From that night on, whenever the weight of the world crashed down onto their shoulders, they would shield each other under covers and the cover of sunset, night, and dusk. Not everything was said, sometimes not needed. They spoke through touch and Arthur accepted parts of Merlin not many in this day in age would. In turn, Merlin held Arthur like no one ever had.   

It went on and a new routine was ensued. Time moved lowly as no attacks were on the rise, Arthur enjoyed his days in the sun with his men on the pitch and Merlin’s shadow ever present beside him. Even his father was in high spirits. A treaty and a new trade deal was underway, a feast was planned, and not a cross word passed his lips.  

It was the high leading to a spiralling downfall.    

 

The day of the feast, the celebration of the year in Uther’s eyes, Arthur had woken groggy. He rolled, his stomach did the same in the opposite direction and he buried his head into Merlin’s side. Merlin had a habit of sleeping on his front, arms up wrapped around the pillow. Arthur curled in and his cold forehead pressed into his lover’s warm bare skin.  

Merlin shivered, the summer morning was a wet one and the stone of the castle was unforgiving, never warming like their sleep riddled bodies. Merlin stirred, turned his head to view his prince. He looked a little peaky. He lowered on arm, turning slowly onto his side and stroked the blonde’s hair as Arthur sought to burry himself back into Merlin, this time into his chest. The quiet mornings before the storms of the day in Camelot were their favourite, along with the time when the rest of the castle slumbered. Arthur was allowed to show sides of himself he couldn’t put on display ever and Merlin could be himself at full capacity with no fear.  

Merlin pressed the back of his hand to Arthur’s forehead; his temperature was a little off but passed it off and waking up and his body doing the same. He’d make sure to check later how Arthur was feeling once he got some food in him.  

Merlin did eventually prize himself out of the prince’s bed, dressed in clothes he now secretly stored in the same wardrobe he hung Arthur’s, and started the day in the role he put on as an act to the rest of the world. When he did get some food at least into Arthur’s chambers however, he got an answer to his earlier worry. From either the smell of the sight, next found Arthur heaving shakily over his chamber pot and Merlin at his side rubbing his back and neck.  

Once Arthur appeared to have stopped, Merlin wrapped an arm around his love. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” he said, starting to guide Arthur there but the prince tried to shake him off.  

“Can’t,” Arthur mumbled, the taste and smell of his own vomit nauseating him further, “have to attempt, attend the... the... meetings, meeting. Need, presence.”  

It was a losing battle. Merlin waggled him back into bed and had a whispered word with the guards at his door to inform the physician and the king of Arthur’s health.    

Uther wasn’t particularly happy about it, but Arthur did get to spend the day in bed with Merlin’s constant watch over him. Gaius came in a few times to do check-ups and hand over vials for Merlin to administer throughout the day  

The day was quiet and one brutal storm was brewing up for the evening.  

Notes:

Did you know I'm also a published author? My name is Lily O. Laverick, I have two books out: one novel, one novella. Boy jayck, a mm romance space opera, and Ocean of Emotions (has just been publish!) a modern mm teen romance. If any of these interest you, let me know! 😁

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