Word Count: 930
Summary: The first time Merlin kissed Arthur it was an accident.
By Elandria Lore
The first time Merlin kissed Arthur it was an accident.
Well, accident in the sense that someone spiked the wine with something that made everyone think that the next person they saw was his one true love, and Merlin kissed Arthur in the sense that he was the next person Arthur saw and Arthur kissed him.
Merlin had kind of moaned and kissed back, but only because Arthur had gripped Merlin’s hair in his rather large hands and was making the most of the fact that Merlin’s mouth had been open when their lips had first touched.
Afterwards neither of them spoke of it and nothing changed, so Merlin figured that Arthur didn’t even remember it, but that was little comfort for Merlin who couldn’t forget. In fact, he remembered every detail, often at the most inconvenient times, like when he was trying to dress Arthur for the day or when he was trying to sleep.
The first time Merlin slept with Arthur it was wretched beyond the telling of it. It took them hours to realize that they were wandering in circles in the forest and then another several hours to realize that it wasn’t their fault and someone (something?) was actually keeping them lost.
And then there was lightning and thunder – which frightened off their horses – and rain – which drenched them – and no shelter for miles.
They ended up dripping and miserable in what could charitably be considered a hovel; huddled together under a single pitiful blanket, their teeth chattering so loudly it was probably the only thing keeping the animals away.
Arthur eventually dozed deeply enough that Merlin could whisper a few words to dry some wood (and their clothes) and start a fire, and then he climbed back under the blanket beside Arthur and slept.
They woke up curled around each other and aching from the hard packed floor, but for some reason Arthur didn’t mention the dry clothes or the fire and instead worked on a plan to get them out of there.
It was a ludicrous plan, but with Merlin’s help they managed to find a way out of the woods and limp back to Camelot, covered in dirt and twigs and some sort of slime that Merlin wasn’t too keen on investigating.
This also led to the first time that Merlin assisted Arthur with his bath, which was another memory that often decided to crop up when Merlin lay in bed at night.
The first time Merlin told Arthur his secret, Merlin was the one who’d been drugged. Though Arthur obviously hadn’t believed him, and why would he? Merlin hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything other than the curve of Arthur’s mouth or the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed and thus hadn’t been able to even conjure the simplest of spells.
Arthur never brought it up again, and Merlin theorized that maybe his own hangover was enough to induce memory loss in the Prince.
Stranger things had happened.
The first time Arthur asked Merlin to marry him, he didn’t really ask in the sense that he said, “No, absolutely not, I would rather marry Merlin.”
Merlin was appalled that Arthur would think he wasn’t good enough, and was then appalled that he would even want Arthur to marry him, and then was further appalled that he could not stop thinking about what the wedding night would entail if they had married.
Arthur didn’t end up having to marry anyone, which was good.
It was good.
The first time Arthur saw Merlin naked it didn’t have anything to do with spells or potions. Nothing at all, because somehow, in some way, Merlin’s magic had been stripped from him.
He had never felt more vulnerable in his life, and so of course that’s when a roving band of idiots decided to take their displeasure out on him. Of course, Merlin had been the one to talk to Arthur about how they had been attacking villagers and now the castle guards were constantly on the lookout for them, but honestly if they’d have waited a week then he could’ve fought them off.
As it was, Arthur had to carry him back to the castle, and Gaius ordered Arthur to strip him, and all in all Merlin had been far too out of it from pain to do anything but whimper. Later though, he felt the full impact of embarrassment and half wondered if the light, gentle touches from Arthur’s hands had been real or imagined.
The first time Arthur kissed Merlin, or rather Merlin kissed Arthur, it wasn’t an accident.
Merlin wasn’t quite sure of the sequence of events, but there’d been a spindle and a drop of blood, a poison apple and seven very small woodsmen, and somehow Arthur had ended up falling asleep on the job, his face perfect and pale and terrifying.
Merlin had tried everything he could think of to wake him up, even though he knew from the beginning that the only way to counteract a spell that was cast with such strong hate would be one that was cast with a stronger love. He thought only briefly of sending for Morgana or Uther before he leaned over and pressed his mouth against Arthur’s still one; the simplest and most expedient of love spells.
Arthur moaned and kissed back immediately, fingers diving into Merlin’s hair just like they had the first time.
Afterwards they tried all the rest of the firsts again as well.
They worked much better the second time around.