amarie_authielTitle:Dr. Candyman and Father Christmas part 11/11.
Rating: PG-17
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur
Character/s: Arthur, Merlin, (and Uther and Morgana)
Summary: Having heard Arthur ramble about the cute doctor, Morgana decides he should take a bigger part in the Christmas gifts for the childrens ward charity.
Warnings: Implied sexytimes. Fluff. You might get a whiplash from the sudden change near the end. :P
Word Count: ~1300
Prompt: # Forgiveness
Author's Notes: I hope you will forgive me for... I didn't sign up, I though I wouldn't have time to participate. But I finished my little series and wanted to post before we went on our summer vacation. The gap between posts is already bigger than I had hoped.
Um.. and I'd be very happy if anyone should feel like helping me make a better summry than the uninspired stuff I currently have.
As usual, no beta.
Inspired by a prompt at merlin_writers by
krista_maeFollow up to:
Candyman, candyman
Dr.Candyman and Father Christmas Part 1
Previous:
http://camelot-drabble.livejournal.com/951595.html
Standing by the library doors, Arthur took a brief moment to think of what to do next. His wish to impress won over the wish to remaind holding on to Merlin's arm and keeping him close. Arthur first made sure Merlin was standing in a good position to be wowed, and Merlin kindly let himself be carefully manhandled into position. Then he walked towards the double doors with purpose and opened the laches that kept the one door in its normally closed position. He quickly double-checked to be sure before he pushed with just the right amount of force. “This is,” he declared as the doors swung open. “...the library.”
The walls were covered floor to ceiling with dark stained wooden bookcases and shelf upon shelf with books. Wooden moveable ladders let you for reach the higher shelves. A seating area with two dark Chesterfield sofas and a recliner surrounding a heavy dark wooden table, stood at the center of the room. A bar globe with old sea maps with illustrations of odd monsters and warnings completed the look.
Merlin let out a long whistle as he entered.
“This is amazing. I can imagine anyone from Sherlock Holmes to Hermione Granger coming here to comb though the shelves looking for clues.”
“Too bad all the cool and dangerous books are in Morgana’s wing. She’s the witch in our family.”
Merlin raised his eyebrows, clearly waiting to hear more.
“Perhaps not an actual witch, but she definitely-“ Arthur added.
“Has her own wing?”
“Yes, I, um, have my own…wing... as well.”
Merlin threw his head back laughing.
“Of course you do!”
“It more like we have our separate areas we're responsible for…” Arthur tried to ignore the chuckles. It stung a bit to hear Merlin being so interested in what Arthur had rather than... well… Arthur. Sure, he was teasing rather than drooling for fame and fortune, but Arthur had had enough of people assuming things about him.
Merlin must have sensed something was off and quickly dropped the subject.
“Oh well, no magic books then. Guess my plan to take over the world will have to wait. And it was such a nice night for it. No trap doors or secret passages either?”
Arthur instantly forgave Merlin’s small, momentarily laps from perfection. He felt silly for being so prickly. He couldn't help smiling at the wide puppy eyes Merlin managed to produce and the pout he made after Arthur had shook his head in reply.
“Not even one?”
“None, sorry. Me and Morgana must have gone through every inch of this house when we were kids. We were thoroughly disappointed.”
Merlin's eyes crinkled beautifully. A warm smile grew gradually on his face as he looked away from Arthur and let his eyes sweep across the room. Arthur wondered if he imagined the Pendragon siblings running around, looking for hidden secrets.
Well, standing around watching Merlin watch things was hardly good manners. The man was clearly tired and had sore feet and Arthur had marched him around half the mansion. Not to mention that this room only had a carpet in the seating area.
“You can look around if you like. Or have a seat, and maybe a drink?” Arthur hoped he wouldn’t find the bar globe empty and then nervously thought about where he should sit if Merlin sat down. How close would be too close? How much space could be put between them before it would mean that he wanted space between them?
Merlin gave the seating arrangement a longing stare.
“I’d rather look around, if you don’t mind. I’ll be asleep before my ass hits the leather, if you pardon my French.”
Arthur trailed behind him, drinking in how his fingers caressed the rows of books. They slipped over the steps of a ladder and gently tugged to see how easily it would move. It shouldn’t feel as sensual as it did. But Merlin was touching things which were close to Arthur’s heart. It’s not so strange that he should feel a little bit affected as well?
“You’ve lived here all your life then?” Merlin’s middle finger traced the grooves of a carved flower, one of many details decorating the bookshelves. Arthur tore his eyes away and wet his dry lips.
“Yes. Mostly. I moved back after my studies. It’s tradition for the heirs to live on the land. Not that there’s much land left, safe the house and the grounds here. There was a while I was convinced I didn’t want the responsibility. But when I came back… I am not sure what changed, but now I can’t see myself doing anything else.”
He frowned, self-depreciating. Telling a doctor – a hot, funny and smart doctor - that he had moved back home and liked to talk about his house... That didn't exactly promise long hours of meaningful conversation. There was more to it than that, but this was when people's eyes started to glaze over and anything Arthur added would sound like backpedaling.
“I can see why. This is a wonderful place to call home.”
“Some say I lack ambition.” He didn’t elaborate any further.
“Managing this house isn’t ambitious enough?”
“I own a third of a house. While you are a doctor.”
“To some I am 'just' a pediatrician.” He tried to make quotation marks in the air with his fingers and ended up with a quotation mark in one end and the soles of his shoes at the other.
“Clearly I lack ambition or skill since I’m not where the big money’s at. Just imagine what I could have earned!”
Arthur scoffed. The last part was clearly a quote; one Arthur had heard himself many times. He felt angry for Merlin’s sake. Merlin seemed to genuinely care for his young patients, even a certain pushy Halloween vampire with head trauma received kind smiles and good care. Even if Arthur’s memory was a little unclear about that night, Merlin’s smile had cut through the haze.
“Apparently restoring and maintaining this place isn’t enough. I should create a theme park, or make this into a hotel of sorts.”
Merlin’s eyebrows rose.
“What, rollercoasters and waterslides?”
“Yeah!” Arthur laughed incredulously. “Can you believe it? We’re trying to preserve this… this historic place and get told to add dragons and jesters and novelty swords and…”
“Knight plushies and t-shirts with pictures of the park.” Merlin added helpfully.
“Collectable slushie cups and keyrings.”
“Lollipops and popcorn.”
“Rails and wagons going through the house for a ‘historical’ tour.”
“With bad acting and inaccurate costumes.”
Arthur snorted a laugh. “With animatronics and inaccurate costumes.” He corrected.
“Cheap replicas of Leopold’s feathery hat sold at the entrance.”
Arthur laughed. “I have one of those.” Shit. Arthur hadn’t meant to say that.
Merlin stopped. “You do?”
His voice had a new tone, darker, and as the moment stretched between them Arthur suddenly felt a deep and profound love for feathered hats.
“Yes.” Arthur whispered. Yes to this change of pace, yes to those delicious fingers folding with Arthurs, yes to those damned shoes being thrown carelessly aside because Merlin wasn’t going anywhere, yes to the darkening blue eyes and plump, kissable lips which whispered;
“Wear it for me?”
Down in the ballroom, Uther Pendragon gave his watch a discrete look. He caught his daughter’s eye from across the room. His eyebrow rose up a fraction, barely visible. She smiled in reply to the unspoken question. A pleased, smug smile. Very well then. He made a mental note to ask George to set an extra plate for breakfast.
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Next, it seems I wasn't quite finished.