Fanfic: Crashing In (Merlin BBC)

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Title: Crashing In
Category: Humour/Romance, Friendship
Rating: R (to be safe)
Warnings: Drinking, drunken people, insinuations towards what to do in a bed, light cursing. Spoilers for most of S3
Characters/Pairings: Gwen/Arthur, Merlin, mentions of several others.
A/N: This has been rummaging around in my head for a while now. Not beta'ed and there might be a follow-up when I have time to write it
Summary: Arthur is dead-drunk and Merlin goes to Gwen for help. For once, things actually go smoothly. Or, as smoothly as things can ever go for them.

 

Crashing In

 

Gwen was just getting ready to retire when a harsh knock on the door made her jump and grab for the nearest item as a weapon. Elyan was out, she was completely alone and she had by now been kidnapped and threatened more times than she cared to repeat.

“Gwen?” Merlin’s low voice was muffled through the door, but it immediately made her relax. Just her friend. Just her harmless, best friend who was coming to visit.

Very late in the evening, knocking on the door like all hell was loose and sounding as if he didn’t know if he should laugh or cry.

Gwen rushed to the door and opened it a crack, scared of what she would see if she opened it completely right away. Merlin looked pale in the glow from the newly risen moon, but other than a worried expression, he appeared unharmed.

“What is it?” She asked, opening the door completely and peering out. He was alone, but now the scent of ale hit her. She wrinkled her nose. “Have you been drinking? Honestly, Gaius told you to lay off on the cider and…”

“No, it’s not me.” Merlin huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just got spilled on that’s all. Drunk people are really clumsy, you know… don’t give me that look, you’re not one to talk either.”

Gwen smiled wryly, the knot in her chest slowly going away. “Then what is it? Did Gwaine or Leon…”

“No, no, no, would you let me speak woman?” Merlin was practically jumping on the spot, now wringing his hands together and looking anxious yet again. “It’s not any of the knights. Or well, not just a knight…”

Gwen’s eyes widened. “Oh no. Where is he?”

*

For someone with so much discipline and self-restraint – heir to the throne and leader of an army, hello – it was a wonder that Arthur could get this drunk on an evening. Merlin told her, as they hurriedly walked towards the tavern, that it had actually been his suggestion on the accounts that the prince needed to relax. His worried tone was the only reason Gwen didn’t kick him in the shins.

“But why did you go to me?” She asked, stopping right outside the tavern-door. She could hear the roar of drunk soldiers, loud yelling and mugs clanging together. And something that unmistakably sounded like Gwaine singing, but she was going to ignore that for now.

“He just wouldn’t listen to me and everyone else was too drunk to be of any help,” Merlin whined. “and I bet he would listen to you, no matter how drunk he is. He always do!”

Gwen tried not to blush and instead glaring at Merlin for his insinuations. She took a deep breath, knowing that this would either work out or end really badly, and pushed the door open.

The noise was even more overwhelming, like a tidal wave crashing into her. Now, Gwen was used to noise and smells and drunken, brash people (she grew up in a forge for god’s sake: she could swear in seven different languages, she just didn’t like to), but looking around and realizing that she knew a lot of these people didn’t make the situation any better. What if Arthur did something stupid when she was over there? She’d actually never seen him drunk before, maybe he would completely forget himself and give their situation away?

She turned around to ask Merlin, but the sneaky bugger had wandered off somewhere. For a moment, panic struck her, but then she grit her teeth and started pushing into the crowd, ignoring the lewd comments and swatting away any hands that reached for her. Eventually people got the idea, especially when a very slurred Leon declared that he would personally chop off the hands on anyone who touched her. Gwen decided not to tease him about the frilly, pink scarf he was wearing as a thank-you – Merlin was sure to do it anyway, as soon as the knight was sober enough to be mortified about it.

And that’s when she found Arthur.

Or, rather, Arthur found her.

“Guinevere!” She winced at the volume in his voice, happy that everyone was too drunk or too loud themselves to pay much attention. She watched as Arthur shoved someone aside to get to her, but managing to fall over his own legs in the process. She immediately went forward, reaching for him and helping him on his feet.

“Bloody hell. When’d the floor get so close?” Everything but the swear words were slurred, but at least he wasn’t shouting anymore.  

“Arthur, you’re drunk.” She stated, trying to ignore the warm hands that were still resting on her – one on the shoulder and the other gripping her arm. He smiled broadly at her, and despite the goofy, drunken expression on his face and his ruffled hair, he still managed to take her breath away.

Get a grip, girl!

“Drunk? I’m not drunk.” He stated, managing to control his words this time around, stubborn enough to prove a point. “If I’m drunk, it’s only on my love for you.”

Oh God! Gwen’s mouth dropped open in horror, partly at how goddamn cheesy that line was (never mind that it made her blush) but more so because of how it sounded like to everyone else around them.

“Arthur, stop it!” She hissed, desperately searching the crowd for Merlin. If he didn’t come and help her, she swore she’d tear his toes off the next time they met.

As a response, Arthur just leaned in closer, arm winding around her waist and head coming to rest on her shoulder. He pouted like a kicked puppy when she pulled away from him.

“We need to get you back to the Castle.” She firmly stated, tugging at his hand.

“Why? No! We’re having a drink!” He protested, digging his heels into the ground. “Merlin wanted to go too… hey, where is Merlin?”

“That’s a bloody good question,” Gwen muttered. Struck by an idea, she grabbed firmer hold of his hand, smiling brightly at him (she wouldn’t admit that she got a bit weak in the knees when his own smile turned as bright as the sun). “I actually think he’s back at the castle… why don’t we…”

“OH! He’s right there. OI MERLIN!” And with that, Arthur was off, speeding through the stuffed room towards his man-servant, dragging a protesting and stumbling Gwen in his wake.

“Arthur!” Merlin looked disturbed as the prince moved closer, but his look turned into genuine horror as he was enveloped in a hug with said prince.

“Meeerliiin…” Arthur sang, clutching the other boy tightly. “You are my best friend, did you know that? You and Gwen, but you’re very different. Beside the anatomical things of course.”

“Uh, sure.” Was all Merlin could think to say, still shooting Gwen looks of fright over Arthur’s shoulder. Gwen wasn’t sure if she should laugh at the situation or be amazed that Arthur could be dead on his feet and still say the word ‘anatomical’. “You’re my best friend too.”

“That’s great!” Arthur finally pulled away, allowing the younger boy to breathe. “Shouldn’t friends by each other… uh… what is that word… um…”

Gwen rolled her eyes. He could say ‘anatomical’ but he couldn’t remember the word ‘ale’. Brilliant. Striding forward, she grabbed his arm firmly, not intending to let go this time.

“Arthur, there is no more ale,” She firmly told him. “You drank it all.”

Arthur’s eyes widened and the pout was back in an instant. “All of it?”

“Yes. All of it.” Gwen gently started to pull him towards the door, but Arthur didn’t budge. Instead, he’d turned his head to stare at Merlin.

“You, servant! Fetch me some more ale!”

“What?”

“C’mon, what are you just standing there for? Go, shoot, run, bolt – now!”

Merlin was glaring at his ‘best friend’ now and it was all Gwen could do not to smack her head against something. Or preferably smack Arthur’s against something instead.

“Arthur, no, we need to go home now!” Gwen used the best commanding voice she had – the one that made Elyan do her every bidding, for fear of not getting fed that day. It seemed to have the same magic effect on the prince. He turned around, blinked at her and then smiled brightly.

“We?” He said and Gwen realized her mistake too late. “We’re going back? You’re coming with me?”

“What, no…”

“Of course she is.” Merlin, the back-stabbing fiend! “You’re going to go home now and sleep all this off, okay?”

“Sleep – in bed?” Gwen flushed at Arthur’s suggestive voice and sent her most murderous glare at Merlin, who only grinned widely in response.

“Sure. But you have to go with Gwen now, alright?”

Arthur nodded and reached down, fingers intertwining with hers. It sent a jolt through Gwen’s arm, making her heart flutter. But they couldn’t be seen on the street like this.

“But, Arthur, don’t you remember you promised to let Merlin follow you home as well?” Gwen asked, giving the hand in hers a squeeze to make sure he paid attention her. “You know, because he’s always so worried about you and because you’ve been so heroic and saved him all those times?”

“Hey.” Came the annoyed reply from said damsel, but Arthur luckily didn’t hear.

“That is true – I have saved him a lot.” He mused, turning to smile at her again. No Gwen, no fawning!

“And he is after all, your best friend.” She said, not missing the way Merlin’s face softened slightly, followed by a light smirk. Arthur nodded.

“Again, true. Guinevere, you’re a genius, did you know that? You know everything!” He was pulling her closer now and Gwen was very aware of the fact that quite a few people where staring at them. “You’re so beautiful and smart and soft…”

“Alright!” Merlin cut in, walking briskly forward and tugging at Arthur’s shirt. “Home. Bed. Now.” He said, pulling both his friends along, stubbornly ignoring Arthur’s teasing that he didn’t know Merlin liked him that much.

Gwen’s face was still burning bright red as they reached the castle. They managed to sneak in without anyone spotting them, thanks to the servant entrances and the fact that Gwen knew the castle like the back of her hand. Arthur really wasn’t helping, the cold from the night outside had made him stumble and sling around, and Merlin and Gwen had had to keep a tight grip on him, lest he fall flat on the ground. Not to mention that he started giggling every time he looked at Merlin and one time he had stopped right in the middle of the street, loudly declaring that he would always defend Gwen’s honor, be it from dragons or wizards or pesky servants (at the last one he had shot Merlin a look that could kill and the other boy had quickly assured Arthur that he could have Gwen all to himself, something that hadn’t helped on the girls already too apparent embarrassment).

But they’d finally made it to Arthur’s chambers, thankfully without being seen or head. Hard part over.

Or, hard part over for Merlin, who had disappeared again, leaving Gwen with a drunken Arthur, who thank-fully had managed to get himself over to his bed and lie himself on his stomach, muddy boots still on.

Merlin’s going to have to clean that tomorrow, Gwen glee-fully thought, but still moved over to take them off. Arthur had already started snoring loudly, drooling slightly on his pillow and it made her smile in fond exasperation.

Years of putting a drunken Morgana to sleep had trained her in removing the covers from under a person, and she had just finished putting them over the sleeping prince and was turning to leave, when a strong hang gripped her wrist.

“Don’t go.” His voice was muffled by sleep and alcohol and the pillow his face was pressed into. It made Gwen’s heart race and she didn’t have it in her to pull away and walk out. Gently seating herself on the edge of the bed, she let their fingers intertwine again, savoring the feeling of his hand against hers.

She wished it could be like this every night – though, hopefully without the consuming of that much ale. She smiled in the darkness and bend over to lightly kiss his temple.

“I have to. But I’ll be back in the morning.”

Arthur grumbled lightly, but miraculously let go of her hand. Just before she left, Gwen could almost swear she heard the words ‘love you’ floating through the air.