[Fanfic: Merlin BBC][MerlinxArthur] Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme

[incubussuccubus]

Warning: R, Hurt Comfort.
Disclaimer: Merlin the TV Series belonged to BBC and all the related production. Standard disclaimer applied.
Summary: Morgaine POV, his favorite boys. Their love and denial, and her believe for their destiny.
Pairing: Merlin x Arthur, Morgaine
Beta: kathkin

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme
By IncubusSuccubus, 2009

"Arthur is an ass!" said Merlin one day.

Morgaine agreed, fervently, that Arthur did have a fine ass. His tight leather pants looked like they were painted on the Royal Bottom), personality not withstanding.

Arthur pushed his Servant down when a stray fireball shot from a furious, crying mortally wounded Warlock. He understood the loss and love that fueled the hate in the Warlock's eyes. Who could they blame when they were at fault? All the Prince could do was to protect what was his.

The village burned to the ground, filled with silent cries of children screamed in the Old Language. It wasn't Merlin's fault, or Arthur's – he was being punished for the sins of his Father. Never mind that Merlin was a Sorcerer himself, and the Old Religion sang underneath his skin.

The lady sipped her tea demurely, listening to the boy ranting of ‘His Prattiness’ in colorful language. She raised an eyebrow over some of the more, ahem, explicit words – he sounded like a sailor in need of a good scrub. Didn't Gwen tell her that the boy was from a remote village? What did they teach their youngsters there, she wondered.

They survived while others did not, and won, but felt the defeat in their bones. The red flame still burned in his eyes, and he could hear Merlin cry in his head. They buried the dead and the Priests preached their sermons, butthe people looked at them with scorn.

Though she knew her half-brother was a bastard (Arthur could bitch like a woman) through and through, Arthur was a good boy and would become a great man and the future King.

They were home, weary, bloody and hurt and glad they had each other.

And when Arthur asked for the impossible possibility; breaking the balance and the Old Religion to wake the dead, to sin, Merlin glared at him and left the room.

Back to Merlin, the sweet boy, still going on and on and on while polishing some sword, and a pair of leather boots of all things. She wondered if this was some unresolved sexual tension, love, hate and morals that need to be resolved as soon as possible before Merlin burst, both literally and magically (yes, she knew) or broke down and died inside.

Merlin avoided him for weeks and he took it badly, morosely. He felt guilty for asking that of Merlin, and for the blood on his hands, even though it was necessary to protect his people and kill those who used magic to hurt and kill. He dealt with it by lashing out at Merlin, and said more than he intended the second time Merlin served him.

Merlin didn't say anything, just silently did his duties as efficiently as any good Servant. Arthur hated it, and told him to go.

She knew the time would come for them. Oh, how longed, wished, hoped and wanted to be free. At night, she dreamed of the future and their destiny. And in the present, they were content, weren't they? Last week was a disaster, but perhaps they'll make up today.

His back still aches. Welts of blue,red and black decorated his back, scarred by the blade of ice and flame. The medicine still worked, but too slowly. His ache in his chest was getting worse. He didn't see his servant for days after the last time he dismissed him. Yet he knew how pale he was, and of the hollow look in Merlin's eyes.

He knew because he was always watching.

Morgaine gazed at the fretting boy thoughtfully as Merlin left to attend his evening duties. Perhaps...everything would work out? Lately she could see a soft and sad gaze in Merlin's eyes, and longing looks from Arthur at nights, at dinner time, from across the room.

It was late at night and the Castle was quiet. Merlin went into the Prince's private chamber, bringing the salve he’d made with Gaius' instruction. Arthur was waiting on his bed with surprised look on his face; it had been weeks since he last saw him and another servant had been attending him instead.

His Servant settled on the bed and reached for Arthur's shirt collar, waiting a moment to give time for the Prince to refuse. When Arthur didn't move away, Merlin pulled the neck open and undid the buttons on this shirt, one by one, revealing his skin under the glow of the lone candle.

Merlin's eyes gleamed with elven light as he gently pushed Arthur to lie on his stomach. Arthur gasped on the first feather light touch, wet, warm liquid, and Merlin's voice, rich and dark.

He moaned when he felt the magic dance, sing its enchanting song, on his sensitive back and smelt the scent of herbs and spices, so earthy and Merlin. His hand reverently traveling from Arthur’s shoulder, down to the top of his pants, and slipping... he shivered from the top of his head to the tip of his curled toes. Merlin was...

...vibrant and golden like the fields of flowers under the spring sun,

...melting like warm dark chocolate and spicy cinnamon that he could taste on the tip of his tongue, gulped in a hazy afternoon,

...like honey on warm bread on early cool morning.

Merlin was... what he gave everything up for, to protect everything, to gain everything, he thought drowsily.

As he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, wrapped in thick blankets and a-not-so-dreamy kiss on his brow.

She smiled as night has fell. The castle was dark but warm, waiting for the morning light.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme

Remember me to one who lives there

He once was a true love of mine

- Scarborough Fair by Sarah Brightman (version)

[ ~ Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme ~ Fin ]

PS: from wiki: "The speaker in the song, by mentioning these four herbs, wishes his true love mildness to soothe the bitterness that is between them, strength to stand firm in the time of their being apart from each other, faithfulness to stay with him during this period of loneliness and, paradoxically, courage to fulfill her impossible tasks and to come back to him by the time she can. Also, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme are possibly the ingredients of a love spell from the Middle Ages, even though the refrain did not exist in the medieval version of the song."