Merlin
(Open, Moderated, Anonymous)
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Summary
Morgana ties Arthur's life to Merlin's, thinking that it'll be much easier to kill a helpless servant than the King of Camelot.
Aka, Morgana unwittingly binds Arthur's life to the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth.
Aka, not only can they physically not leave each other's sides, but also anything Merlin feels, so does Arthur--and vice versa.
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In his boisterous youth, winter had a way of driving Arthur near to insanity as the biting cold turned the training grounds inhospitable for activity. Servants hurried between alcoves and lords cosied up with their bedwarmers, reluctant to part from their comforts. Arthur himself never had one; he never quite liked the idea of another person in his bedchambers.
Now, slipping under the covers sleep-warmed by his consort, Arthur can admit to himself in the privacy of his mind that there was always merit to a distinctly human bedwarmer.
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He had lit up again, breathless, the pale line of his neck dripping water down past where Arthur could follow. Merlin practically glowed when he smiled, he always had, and Arthur wished for nothing more than to be stuck in this moment forever even as the rain splashed around them, the howling wind filling his ears.
“Don’t you trust me?”
With my life, he thinks.
“I’m in love with you,” he says instead.
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Merlin is entrusted to service a party of visiting royalty at Arthur's insistence, but what will the king do when their Prince makes it obvious he has his eyes set on the manservant? After all, he doesn't like sharing.
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“Mr. Pendragon is out of surgery,” the doctor said, and Merlin couldn’t help but be a little relieved. "However, he’s being quite…belligerent. I must remind you, he has taken nitrous oxide and is not exactly in control right now.”
“And?”
“Well,” the doctor’s lower lip twitched. “He’s demanding that we return his teeth to him immediately so that he can wear them like a necklace. Or he’ll have us beheaded.”