Merthur One-shots

Five Times Arthur Pretended Not To Notice Merlin's Magic (One Time He Couldn't)

Summary: 'Arthur did hear several other council members hide their laughter in unconvincing fake coughs, but he was entirely and understandably distracted by the horrible suspicion currently developing in his mind that his boyfriend might be a sorcerer.'

Once Arthur catches Merlin doing magic once, it's like he can't not see it.

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ONE

Arthur pressed his lips together tightly and forced his attention back to whichever council member was currently speaking. Unfortunately, from his position at the head of the table, he was the only one who could see Merlin clearly. While normally he would be happy to sit and stare, Merlin was apparently finding this meeting a little long and had long since abandoned his water-refilling duties in favour of making faces and miming hanging himself while Arthur pretended to be paying attention. He caught a wave from the corner of his eye and ignored it as long as he could, finally looking over to see Merlin mouthing at him.

Can I go? Arthur frowned and shook his head. He realised the conversation at the table had quieted, suddenly, and he cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

“Is there a problem, my lord? Do you disagree?” Fucking Merlin.

“No, no, Gregory, please continue. Just…stretching my neck.” Gregory looked briefly doubtful, but general obsequiousness and the allure of roadbuilding logistics proved too strong and he picked up where he had left off. Arthur refused to look at Merlin, but he knew he was smirking. He rubbed at his temple and tried to look interested.

An interminable report on winter supplies later, Arthur suggested they stop for the day, and several council members immediately and gratefully took the opportunity to disappear, leaving the door open behind them. He finally allowed himself to glance in Merlin’s direction, who was sitting on the ground, back against the wall and staring into space. He really was quite pretty like that, his long neck exposed and his head back against the stone wall. Casting idly about for something to throw at him, Arthur was distracted by a knock at the open door. Gwen appeared, and he nodded her forward. She approached, eyes down and shoulders straight, the image of the perfect servant. She handed him a note from Morgana and grinned, her face hidden from the handful of councillors left in the room.

“She expects to see you later,” she said.

“Of course she does. We do live in the same building, you know.”

“She plans for your maximum personal inconvenience,” she said cheerfully. “Be grateful I vetoed her original suggestions for delivering the message. Better not knowing,” she added. Arthur rolled his eyes and waved her away.

Halfway down the table, Bryn, a slimy and newly-arrived lord of something or other, had pushed his chair back in preparation for leaving. As Gwen passed him by, she suddenly stiffened, her gait stuttering for a second before smoothly resuming. Arthur frowned, his view obscured by Bryn and the mess of the empty chairs beyond him. He watched Gwen closely as she neared the door, where Merlin was back on his feet, standing ramrod straight and glaring daggers at Bryn. He caught Gwen’s arm as she passed him at the door and whispered something furiously to her. She shook her head tiredly, patted him on the arm, and left.