Work Text:
Alphas learned from a young age to never wake a sleeping Omega.
Arthur certainly understood as much. Uther had his faults, but he taught his son early on that an Alpha’s purpose was to protect Omegas, to use their strength to provide a haven for those most vulnerable. So, when the king glanced up from his stack of scrolls to find Merlin curled upon the floor and asleep on the fur rug, he straightened and tensed as if bestowed a rare and sacred quest.
“Merlin?”
He spoke the question quietly, just to be sure that his eyes weren’t playing tricks. Unmated Omegas never fell so soundly asleep amongst an alpha. Their dominating presence kept Omegas on alert. Merlin, though, curled his lips into a serene smile and nestled further into a pile of Arthur’s sweat-stained tunics, those he’d been tasked to scrub clean, as if he hadn’t a worry in the world.
Arthur shook his head at the pointy-limbed, entirely too trusting, warlock.
“You idiot.”
He tasted the thickness of his whispered words and felt them fondly in his heart.
A shiver passed through Merlin’s jutting spine. He stirred, but thankfully did not wake. Arthur, breath held deeply in his lungs, desperately searched the room with his eyes until they settled upon the soft, Pendragon red blanket draped over the edge of his bed. He slipped out of his boots, rose onto the tips of his toes, and stepped carefully from rug to stone to rug until he reached the wooden post.
Another glance at Merlin’s comatose form gave him enough confidence to tug the blanket, sending a resounding creak throughout the chambers.
Merlin snuffled.
Arthur froze.
Merlin dragged Arthur’s softest tunic into a cuddle, resuming his light snoring.
Arthur exhaled and swallowed the adoring smile that triggered.
With the blanket secured under an arm, he conquered the rest of the room with the stealth learned from years of battle training until he crouched over Merlin and so carefully tucked the blanket around all his angles. He spread it all the way up to his boney neck and surrendered to a surge of curiosity.
Merlin would have told him if he’d taken a mate, surely. Still Arthur glanced just briefly at the curve between his shoulder and neck, the neckerchief just loose enough to expose the gland, and found it unbroken. Perhaps it was wrong to feel so relieved, but he did anyway.
Crisis averted, Arthur sat upon his heels and took a moment to consider the smaller man.
Merlin had always been there, standing beside the king through the deadliest moments of truth. Omegas generally didn’t show such bravery and he’d always assumed Merlin a Beta. It marveled Arthur the day his servant came to him to say that, given the legalization of magic and his guaranteed safety, he planned to stop his suppressors and would need a few days off to see himself through heat. He’d said it so casually, as if he were requesting leave to go to the tavern.
Arthur, stunned and flushed at his best friend’s coming out, had simply nodded, and mumbled something about Merlin taking all the time he needed.
Those few days had been absolute torture, worse than any Arthur experienced at the hands of his enemies. His instincts demanded he go to Merlin, hold his hand through the pain, protect him from any Alpha who dared think themselves worthy. However, the servant hadn’t invited him, and he’d sooner remove his own head than force himself upon a heated, vulnerable Omega.
In the end, he’d resorted to placing Beta guards at both his own and Gaius’ door to ensure Merlin’s safety.
If he couldn’t protect Merlin in the same room, he’d do it from afar.
As if on cue, a sharp knock broke Arthur’s quiet reflection.
The king’s focus narrowed to the door and its hanging, unfastened latch. Heart pounding, his bare feet took him there of their own accord and he made it in time to stop the intrusion. Leon peered through the head-sized gap with his typical wide-eyed innocence.
“Sire, the knights are awaiting your presence to begin their training, as you requested.”
“Shh.” Arthur threw a finger over his lips, glancing back just long enough to ensure that Merlin remained undisturbed. Leon, to his credit, only raised one eyebrow. “I won’t be joining today.” He breathed the words rather than spoke them aloud. “I trust you can lead the men in my absence.”
“Certainly, my lord.” Leon wrinkled his nose and looked past Arthur just as the king blocked the room with his body. “Is Merlin in? He was meant to help with the new recruits.”
Arthur took in the unconscious Omega, noting no threat of wakefulness, and pressed his shoulders just past the doorframe. The hallway echoed with emptiness and Arthur felt confident that his Beta friend could abide a secret.
“Merlin is asleep.”
Leon gasped and craned his neck to get a peek. Merlin had made his biological identity known to their small circle shortly after telling Arthur and received only acceptance in return. So, the significance of the statement was not lost on the man.
“In your chambers? With you?”
“It seems so.” Arthur couldn’t hide his self-satisfied smirk. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m a trustworthy Alpha.”
“Indeed.” Leon grew a slow smile and clapped Arthur on the shoulder. “Congratulations, sire. We all wondered when you two would come around.”
Arthur blanched, suddenly ashamed of the assumption. “Oh, well, it’s only a nap.”
Merlin whimpered, more of a squeak really. Arthur veered, instinctually emitting a cloud of his calming scent in the Omega’s direction that eased him back into slumber. He returned to find Leon still looking quite proud of himself.
“We’re old friends. He’s clearly comfortable in my presence.”
“Certainly.” Leon’s straightened posture and shining eyes oozed disbelief. “I’ll inform the knights you and Merlin won’t be joining us today.” He stepped back from the door and bowed his head just enough to give the impression of respect. “Strange, though, I can’t recall him ever falling asleep in Gwaine’s presence.”
Gwaine. The very name of the Alpha sent Arthur’s blood to his fists. The way Gwaine leered at Merlin, practically drooling over him during their training sessions. It all made Arthur want to claw out the troublesome knight’s eyes and hug Merlin tight at once.
“Leon?” The other man stopped, awaiting his king’s aggressively whispered orders. “Keep Gwaine away from my chambers. The last thing Merlin needs is to be woken by that buffoon.”
Leon’s cheeky smile fooled no one. “Aye, sire.”
Arthur eased the door to its resting place and gingerly laid the latch. Shoulders slumped with release, he turned and found Merlin half buried in layers of fabric and with his fingers curling frighteningly around the brass stand holding a flaming candle.
Arthur, rightly panicked, padded across the room with clenched fists and blew out the flame just as the candle teetered. He lowered himself to his hands and knees beside the Omega, steadying the stand in his solid grip and carefully untangling the servant’s fingers.
“For Camelot’s sake, Merlin.” He whispered, pondering how the Omega kept his skin so bloody soft. “I turn my head for a moment and you’re trying to burn yourself alive.” Merlin didn’t fight Arthur when he moved his arm underneath the blanket and tucked him in, only snuggling further into the layers. “Whoever you choose as your Alpha, they’ll certainly need to be vigilant.” Arthur settled against the chair and smoothed Merlin’s hair down. “One should only be so privileged.”
The remaining candlelight danced over the newly shined blade resting on the fur rug. Arthur, his thoughts clouded by Merlin’s smokey and intoxicating scent, bypassed the polishing cloth and pulled the weapon into his lap.
Then, with two readied hands on the sword’s handle, he faced the door and stood guard over the sleeping Omega as any worthy Alpha should.
……..
When Merlin woke, before even opening his eyes, he smelled the mixture of sweat and spice that made up his Arthur. The familiar, comforting Alpha scent enveloped him both in the swaddle of soft linens and the fire-warmed air that flushed his cheeks and soothed him along the journey from sleep to wake. Merlin flexed his limbs, curled his toes around what felt like a button, and gripped the soft fur rug before opening his eyes to a sight of which he’d only ever dreamed.
Arthur, his posture straight and alert, sat against a chair and balanced a sword upon his lap. His fingers clasped around the handle as if ready to defend and he stared at the chamber door with such focus as if his mortal enemy were to break through at any moment.
The pose of a protective Alpha.
It took Merlin’s breath away.
“Arthur?”
He whispered it, knowing better than to startle an Alpha on guard.
The king blinked heavily and slowly dragged his attention from the door to the pile of linens and Omega. His cheeks held a rosy glow and his pupils dilated beneath their glassy shield.
“Merlin.” He squinted, as if finally seeing. “You’re awake.”
“Yes.” The servant stretched heartily beneath- indeed, he’d fallen asleep in a pile of Arthur’s smelly tunics-and swallowed that embarrassment with a slight bow of his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Exhaustion, I’d imagine.” Arthur cleared his throat and rubbed at his eyes, gripping the sword with only one hand. “You’re clearly not getting enough rest in Gaius’ chambers. A Beta can only provide you with so much security.”
Merlin nodded into the dirty clothing. “I’ll get back to…” He knew that he should emerge from his Arthur cocoon. His muscles, though, moved like heavy tree limbs and practically anchored him to the makeshift nest. Fatigue weighed upon his eyelids, and he fought a valiant but losing battle.
Arthur, quietly watching Merlin’s struggle, returned his other hand to the sword’s handle and leaned further back against the chair.
“It’ll take time for your body to awaken from a true Omegan sleep. You shouldn’t force it.” The Alpha king squeezed the sword and let his gaze drift up the door again. “I’ve cancelled our plans for the rest of the day. So, just, relax.”
Never one to reject a gift of any sort, Merlin burrowed back into his nest and blinked up at his king. Arthur had never looked so noble as he did sat upon his cold floor and guarding Merlin. It stirred something inside of the servant, an affection long buried for the prat who became his best friend.
Perhaps more, given the heady, possessive scent wafting from the Alpha.
Merlin breathed it in, chewed his lip, and played with a loose thread on one of Arthur’s tunics.
“Gaius says that I should take an Alpha soon. That it will affect my health if I continue to refuse.”
“He’s correct.” Arthur focused on the door and seemed to push all his feelings on that subject into the white knuckles holding his sword. “The longer you wait, the more uncomfortable it will be for you. Not to mention dangerous, being around so many undisciplined Alphas.” A few breaths passed and Arthur’s sad smile paled his cheeks. “I’m certain even an idiot such as yourself has had offers.”
Merlin swallowed the bad taste that put into his mouth.
“Yes, from supercilious bruts with javelins up their asses and all the wit of a toad.”
Arthur snorted. “Well, that certainly narrows down your options.” Then he smiled so handsomely and nudged Merlin lightly with his chilled, bootless foot. “What exactly are your ridiculous standards for a mate, idiot?”
Merlin dodged that question the only way he knew how.
“What happened to your boots, dollophead?”
Arthur sunk into the floor slightly, his guarding instincts waning with Merlin’s wakefulness, and poked Merlin’s padded belly again with his big toe. “I asked you first, petticoat.”
“Ah.” Merlin teased. “So, you planned to defend my honor barefoot, then?”
Arthur simply shrugged and gave him a smug grin. “Still not an answer to my question.”
An intoxicating mixture of Alpha and Omega pheromones saturated the air between the men. Arthur licked his lips enticingly and Merlin smiled into his nest, suddenly shy around the annoyingly charming king.
“I would like my Alpha to be a man.” He glanced at Arthur and found courage in his subtle nod. “Someone who is brave and noble, who fights for those with magic, and who embodies the word ‘clotpole.’” Arthur’s lips parted in a rather unattractive gape and eyes both clear and awake widened. “I want an Alpha who’s a prat, Arthur, and, preferably, a royal one.”
The king gripped the sword tightly and his throat bobbed. Merlin hid further under the linens, fearing that his feelings would not be returned. Then, a large, calloused hand found Merlin’s forehead and careful fingers brushed his hair to the side so softly that chills ran down his spine. Then they trailed down, rounded his cheekbone, and landed at his neckerchief.
Arthur lightly stroked the skin surrounding Merlin’s gland and bit his lips as if restraining himself.
“You’re certain you want to bond with me? You could have your choice of any Alpha.” Arthur snarled. “Even Gwaine.”
Merlin, his tongue lighter under Arthur’s calming touch, spoke plainly.
“It’s always been you, Arthur, even before we met. I won’t give myself to another.” He smirked, leaning into the Alpha’s grip. “Besides, Gwaine is rubbish at standing guard. Remember the lake?”
“How could I forget?” Arthur scoffed. “Hours of riding skin to saddle because that buffoon couldn’t stay awake to protect our clothes from the boar.”
“I didn’t even have a bedroll.” Merlin warmed at the memory. “You gave me yours, you clotpole.”
Arthur’s jaw slacked and he traced a thumb over Merlin’s nape. “I couldn’t very well have Gwaine admiring your bare behind, could I?”
The Omega shook his head. “No, only admiring yours you arrogant prat.”
“Well, I certainly managed to win your attentions.” Arthur flaunted. “I don’t recall a single complaint from you that whole afternoon.”
Arthur put on his stupid, haughty grin; Merlin smiled until he squinted. The two broke the heavy silence with a quiet laugh. Then, suddenly sober and battle-ready, Arthur faced the door and took up his sword, this time with a smile as wide as his middle.
“It’s settled, then. We’ll announce our courtship tomorrow.”
“Courtship?” Merlin, his exhaustion overtaking him once again, spoke through a yawn. “Don’t suppose we could skip the public prancing?”
“Certainly not, idiot.” Arthur rolled his eyes and curled his lips into a teasing grin. “You don’t want a supercilious brut, right? Well, prepare yourself to be thoroughly wooed by a skilled Alpha.”
Merlin hid his eyeroll in the linens. “Here I thought your massive head had managed to stop growing.”
He scooted his nest closer to his Alpha-in-waiting and Arthur settled himself beside Merlin, pressing a thumb just lightly enough against his gland to show his intent. It instantly relaxed Merlin’s heavy limbs and lulled him towards a deep, much-needed, slumber.
“Sleep, you stubborn Omega. You’ll need your energy for tomorrow.”
Merlin sunk into his nest with his nose barely touching Arthur’s thigh.
“Right, for all the barefooted wooing.”
……..
Night fell upon a dozing Omega in a nest made of royal laundry.
Beside him, a barefoot king and his trusted sword kept watch.
Arthur sighed and so lovingly petted the tuft of hair at Merlin’s nape as he succumbed to his instinctual drowse.
“Privileged indeed.” He smiled and readied himself for battle against anyone who dared wake his mate. “Don’t suppose I’ll ever sleep properly again.”
