Merthur One-shots

Merlin And The Terrible, Awful, No Good, Excellent, Amazing Birthday

Summary: All Merlin wanted for his birthday was a day off, but that was too bad, because Arthur hadn’t even remembered that it was Merlin’s birthday. Or had he?

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Merlin's birthday was off to a bad start.

He didn't expect much, certainly not an over-the-top feast like the one held for the king. Gifts, well, he wouldn't turn any away if they were offered, but he certainly didn't need or expect them. An acknowledgement, though, combined with a day off, now that would be nice. 

Too bad Arthur didn't agree. As far as the king was concerned, his manservant's birthday was just another day to be waited on. If he even knew it was Merlin's birthday. Normally Merlin was the one who kept Arthur abreast of important dates. Whether it was the knights, the council, or Camelot's allies, Merlin's careful records and reminders ensured that Arthur never missed a birthday or an anniversary. 

“You’re like a married couple,” Gwaine had joked a couple of weeks back when he’d overheard Merlin reminding Arthur about Elyan’s birthday. “You should move Merlin into your chambers, Arthur. He already takes care of your laundry and meals. The fact that you haven’t invited him into your bed is…”

Gwaine got cut off with a pointed glare from Arthur, whose face had turned a shade of crimson deeper than that of his tunic. Merlin hated when Gwaine insinuated that he shared something other than friendship with Arthur.

Merlin treasured that friendship – Arthur was his very best friend, albeit a friend who he would very much like to kiss and caress and… Anyway, it didn’t matter. No amount of flirtatious banter, longing looks, or lingering fingers seemed to work. Arthur either didn’t notice or wasn’t receptive. And that was ok, until Gwaine tried to play matchmaker, something he did more frequently these days, resulting in nothing but all around awkwardness for Arthur and Merlin.

No further discussion had followed Gwaine’s latest attempt, as the night had been spent at the Rising Sun to celebrate with Elyan.

Merlin had considered dropping subtle hints about his own birthday, but chickened out. It felt too desperate. Besides, it wasn’t as though Arthur didn’t care for him. Maybe not in the way that Merlin dreamed about, the way that would have started Merlin's day with lazy kisses in bed rather than lugging a serving tray up the countless flights of castle stairs, but such was life.

Besides, birthdays were for children, not grown men. 

That was a lie and no amount of repeating it in his head would make Merlin believe it. Kings got birthdays, knights got birthdays, hell, there had even been cake and a new polishing cloth for George.

Birthdays were apparently for everyone but Merlin.

Not only had Arthur forgotten, but no one else seemed to remember either. Gaius hadn’t even bothered with making porridge that morning – he’d sent Merlin to work on an empty stomach. The kitchens refused to offer him any food, and instead shoved a massive serving tray at him.

“It’s heavier than normal,” Merlin complained. “Can you at least spare something for me to eat before I haul that to the king’s chambers?”

“You’re too late,” Audrey chided him. “You can come back at noon when servants get the midday meal. Now go. We can’t keep the king waiting on his breakfast.”