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Imagine being Morgana for a moment. You have this complex plan to get the prince's lover killed and then this random old geezer appears, takes credit for it, then bounces.
I'd put everything on hold after that. I'd wanna know who the fuck that was.
@merthurmicrofic / prompt: Honour / word count: 1,913
— a03 link — (please check end notes! thank you!)
Merlin spotted the soft and warm smile on Gwen's face as they walked alongside each other in the corridor, and he couldn't help but grin himself. He remembered catching her humming under her breath while folding laundry before they went to walk together.
“Can't stop thinking ‘bout him, huh?” He sing-songed.
Gwen snapped out of her daze and shot Merlin a look, but the bright red blooming on her ears was hard not to notice.
“I've always cheered on Lancelot giving you his Knight's Honour,” his voice softened, and he could feel himself grow immensely proud of his friend. “I'm really happy for you and Lancelot. There really is no other man who could treat you better than Lancelot—I mean it. You both deserve each other.”
It was the whole truth. Both Gwen and Lancelot's hearts deserve to be in a warm and safe place, and there isn't any other one more fitting than theirs.
The growing flush on Gwen's face only spread even further. “Thank you, Merlin. You've always been the first one I wanted to tell it to.”
Merlin grinned earnestly in response, and continued walking side-by-side with his greatest friend. He slightly swung the basket of laundry in his hands.
“But, you know, I really would have liked to be the first person you've told yours to.” There was a light tease in her tone, but he could hear the subtle mournfulness when she said it.
Merlin's steps faltered at that, but he kept up his pace. “Mine?” He said, dumbfounded.
As far as Merlin was aware, he would have probably remembered if a knight gave him their honour. He thought Gwen must have had a slip of a tongue, and was about to laugh about it, but he couldn't help but think deeply just in case he really was given a knight's honour and he hadn't even realized.
To give and to accept a knight's honour is no joke.
It would mean having a knight, who lays their worth and loyalty to his kingdom and to his country, surrender their heart to you; that should they die while in battle, their heart, soul, and uttermost devotion is eternally a piece of you.
This was a common custom between two lovers, often wedded couples. However, there are also a few knights who chose to give it to family members instead.
He almost popped a vein from thinking too hard into his memories, but there's nothing that can come up.
None at all. Nope. Well, there's Gwaine, but he randomly looked at Merlin one day and clapped his shoulder with a knowing and proud smile. But then again, it's Gwaine.
Gwen turned to look at him and rolled her eyes, mistaking Merlin's obliviousness for jest. “Yes, yours, Merlin. But I've forgiven you now; I'd understand why you both had wanted to keep it a secret.” She winked at him, and Merlin wanted nothing more than to understand what she's talking about.
“Us both?” Merlin echoed, his surprise evident on his face and voice now. His knees weakened at the thought that a knight had truly given his honour to Merlin, and Merlin never knew!
Gwen's brows furrowed. “What is with you today? Obviously you and Arthur! Everybody has predicted it would happen for almost two years now, and the entire castle hasn't quietened down about it for almost an entire week since we've found out!
“Arthur?!” Merlin's voice accidentally raised, and they're pretty sure that the entire lower castle must have heard his shout. He was so surprised that the basket in his hands almost fell to the ground, and accidentally earn himself a scolding from Gwen.
“I– Arthur– We aren't– He didn't–” Merlin tripped over his words, his mouth spluttering before his brain could even form a proper thought. He was fully aware of the scorching heat slowly creeping to his entire face and ears.
Gwen looked exasperated, thinking Merlin was kidding her again, but she looked at Merlin, and really looked, before her face turned equally as surprised as he was. She elicited a gasp so loud, her basket almost dropped.
Remembering the delicate weight on her hands, she adjusted her arms and lifted it to a more secure hold. For some reason, she eyed the left and right corners of the corridors, before lowering her voice and leaning in closer.
“You– you mean… you don't know Arthur gave you his honour?” She whispered incredulously.
“No!” He cried, a little louder than necessary again. “Gwen, I don't have his honour! He hasn't given it to anybody for years!”
A knight's honour was a huge thing, once given, it can't ever be taken back. Because you've basically given your entire being to the person.
But having it come from a knight who is the king of the damn kingdom, is another thing entirely.
But Merlin isn't concerned that the king of camelot would ever give him his honour, no, it was the mere idea of Arthur Pendragon giving him his honour. Merlin.
Gwen took a step back, and didn't even try to conceal her bewilderment.
“But he–” Gwen hesitated.
“Seriously, whatever gave you the idea that he gave it to me?” Merlin questioned, and he tried to look as nonchalant as possible, but the heat in his ears was so painfully obvious.
He ignored that the mere idea of having Arthur's honour made his heart pound out of his ribs.
Gwen pursed her lips, as if to say more, but she thought of something else and narrowed her eyes into thin slits.
“Okay– wait. He went with you to Ealdor last week, right?” She asked.
“Well, yeah. He did spend an odd amount of time with my mother behind my back, for some reason.” He pondered, and he shifted his weight on one foot. Arthur claimed that he didn't need to answer to the likes of Merlin, and Hunith only gave him a warm smile whenever he questioned them.
Gwen didn't give a certain reaction, but she gave a quick nod. “And has he ever suspiciously asked for a private moment with you more than usual?”
Merlin suddenly felt hesitant with his words. “..Ye-es.” He thought Arthur was only messing with him, and wanted to become more of a prat than usual and waste his time.
“And does he ever get jittery and sweaty before asking and during the entirety of it?”
Merlin found himself nodding his head.
“Has he ever given you an absolutely unnecessary amount of gifts and never tells you what it's for, and even if he does, you never believe him?”
Merlin groaned. “Yes, countless times already! I tell him that I really, really do not need a neckerchief rack.”
Gwen giggled a bit at that, but she cleared her throat and suddenly stiffened her expression. “Okay. Last.”
Merlin straightened his back. For no reason, of course.
“Has he.. given you his most treasured item, like his sword, or a piece of his armor?”
Merlin snorted. “Oh, absolutely, every single day, actually; I even make sure to return it to him nice and shiny and polished.
He let out a sigh, and held the basket in his arms tightly. “I told you, Gwen, there's really no way that Arthur would ever give me his honour.”
Just saying "Arthur” and “honour” in the same sentence sounds foreign—unless you're writing poetry probably—because everybody knows that Arthur is almost the only noble to have never given his honour. Yet.
Gwen bit on her lip, and he could tell that Gwen still couldn't believe his words. Merlin took pity that his friend had really thought that he was.. given.. Arthur's honour. Merlin blamed the heat coming from the windows.
“Wait, did you say that the entire castle was—”
“How about an heirloom?”
Merlin shut his jaw. He doesn’t know why he felt wary answering that one. “...Er, I have this.”
Making sure the basket was placed safely, he stood up and reached for the pocket inside of his jacket. He doesn’t regularly keep it on him, but he had been mindlessly toying with it and didn't have time to hide it when he was suddenly summoned.
Arthur couldn't keep his eyes off it though, when Merlin played with it in front of him. He guessed that Arthur perhaps had wanted it back. Arthur said nothing. Merlin didn't either.
When he dangled the silver beauty in the air, the sun rays from the window reflected perfectly on it and it shone brightly in the corridors. “‘Said it was his mother's.”
When Merlin looked at Gwen, he thought she was going to pass out. “Gwen? Don't pass out on me now, I really wouldn't like Lancelot to hunt me down.”
“Hunt you down? By the gods, Merlin, Arthur would have his head before he so much as lays his hands on you because he's giving you his honour!”
“Gwen, I don't know if you haven't noticed, but this entire conversation is literally me telling you that Arthur has not given me his honour, and is most definitely not giving me it.”
Is it possible to grow silver hairs just from one conversation? Merlin thought as he looked at his friend.
“Merlin, you don't–” Gwen interrupted herself, then she thought again for a second. “Do you even know what the rituals are for a knight to give his honour?”
“Sure, I do. The knight, well, talks to the person about it and then… he gives it. Somehow?”
Gwen closed her eyes for a second to collect herself. Now guilt really was eating him whole.
“Merlin,” she looked at him without exasperation, and only gentless this time. “The things I asked you about, those are the common rituals in order for a knight to give his honour. Those are the things that Lancelot did for me before he gave his.”
Merlin lowered the sigil in his hands, and a sense of heaviness weighted on his chest. “I don't understand; I'm pretty sure that those are perfectly normal occurrences between two friends. And, Gwen, it's Arthur! Have you even seen him be so... cheesy?"
"And I'm pretty sure that's not how a knight would act around someone he wants to give his honour to." He said as he recalled the past week, and barely noticed a difference.
Gwen sighed. “Arthur and Hunith never told you what they were talking about, because Arthur was asking for her blessing!”
Merlin felt glued to the ground.
“He's probably wanted to tell you about it but immediately shies before he even says it; giving gifts means that he's slowly giving pieces of his affection for you.”
The lump in his throat felt too thick to swallow.
“And that,” She pointed to his hand. “Arthur never knew his mother. Never even saw her possessions to wonder what type of person she was because Uther forbade him to. I think that should tell you a lot.”
Thoughts jumbled and raced through his mind, and the heavy thumping in his heart was no help at all. But it was Merlin's turn to question.
“..Has Arthur… been trying to give me his honour?”
Gwen replied with a smile, and that told everything there is.
“Arthur does want you to have his honour. Merlin, Arthur loves you. And you probably have never noticed because he's acted like that around you for years."
He was gonna have a talk with a certain royal prat. And probably kiss him, while he's at it.
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pre-relationship merthur being insufferable from their constant push and pulling, and post-relationship them being—unfortunately for everyone—still insufferable either bc of their non-stop bickering, or their non-stop cheesy moments that looks like they're just seconds apart from kissing stupid
I like to think that Merlin is a country bumpkin and doesn’t understand or know about a lot of Camelot’s courtesy’s and cultural traditions ESPECIALLY when it comes to courting…
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The knights love and hate Merlin coming to training. They love it because Merlin is their little cheerleader and they seem to perform better when Merlin is there to cheer them on. They hate it because he never cheers Arthur on and Arthur gets jealous and shows off to catch Merlin’s attention which means that Arthur performs better when Merlin is there which makes him a demon on the field. Which means the knights have to visit Gaius after training to get new bruise salves and that one time when Percival had to get his broken nose set because he ducked too late when Arthur was swinging the hilt of his sword down because he was exhausted from how hard Arthur was pushing them
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