The incongruous fountain pen went skritch skritch skritch over Merlin's legal pad. "Hold on. I still have no clue what's causing your amnesia, but I'm about a hair away from a textbook diagnosis of Narcissistic Personality Disorder."
Arthur buried his head in his hands while the pen skritched skritched skritched. He hated that sound almost as much as he loved the sound of Merlin's voice, and wasn't *that* something to analyze. "I don't even know why I keep paying you. You're clearly an idiot."
Merlin snorted and muttered so softly he probably thought Arthur couldn't hear it: "Figures, *that* you remember."
"Oh God, it's a dragon. It's actually a dragon, Merlin, you bloody buggering fool. When I asked what the hell you've been doing since you keep claiming not to go to the tavern, I didn't mean oh, please, Merlin, bring me your secret baby dragon! There can't even be baby dragons! It's obviously impossible!"
Unimpressed by Arthur's bout of existential angst, Aithusa yawned and blew a puff of soot over Arthur's face before burrowing into his tunic for a nap.
"Yes, impossible," Merlin replied, rubbing gently behind Aithusa's horns where they peeked out over Arthur's elbow. "Obviously."
(so apparently I didn't write two stories about Arthur's crown)
"No, Merlin, I am not giving up my crown. I don't care how many new ones you show me."
Merlin waggled the shiny new crown in his hands so it caught the light. "Look, I made it sparkly, just the way you like."
Arthur leaned toward the crown in a moment of temptation, then caught himself. "Absolutely not. The choice of crown is a very personal and intimate thing for a king, Merlin. I wouldn't expect you to understand."
Merlin gave up and rolled his eyes as the new crown dropped to his side. "Look, let's just say that there a number of other very personal and intimate things that will go much better in the future if I don't have to stare at that thing on your head all day."
They stared at each other for a long moment in a battle of wills, but Merlin could tell that he was on the verge of victory. One offer to let Arthur wear the new crown in bed, and Merlin would never have to see the old one again.
"Merlin, tell me you remembered to put fuel in the plane!" Arthur shouted as they ran for their lives with a hundred angry Druids blasting spells at their heels.
Merlin was huffing and puffing under the weight of his pack full of ancient magic artifacts that would soon be gracing the displays of the Camelot Museum -- if they lived to get them there. "Don't worry, I can do better than that!"
"Better than a plane?" Arthur screeched, grabbing at his hat as they skidded to a stop at the edge of the cliff. He turned around with his pistol at the ready -- but the Druids had turned tail and were running away.
Wait, why were they running away?
Merlin just grinned as the dragon settled on edge of the cliff.
"Right," Arthur said when he could close his mouth again. "I concede the point this once."
Merlin throws himself down onto a bench and crosses his arms in a gesture of manly defiance at the barmaid. "Ale. Make it a full pint."
She gives him a dubious look--proving that although Merlin hasn't actually been to the tavern in many months, the staff hadn't forgotten the last time. But dammit, if he's going to get accused of spending all his time at the tavern while he's actually saving Camelot (and Arthur's arse), he might as well get a real drink out of it for once.
A hand falls heavily on his shoulder. "So. Want to tell me again about how you're not always at the tavern?"
As he looks up into Arthur's smirk, Merlin supposes he didn't need that last shred of dignity after all.
"After everything you've been through, Merlin, I would have thought you'd have a little more care!" Gaius snaps, hard enough that Merlin can tell how upset he really is. "You have more magical power than anyone I've ever seen, but that won't protect you from your own stupidity."
It's true and deserved, but that doesn't help Merlin's already frayed nerves. "What did you want me to do? Let Arthur die? You know I'll never do that."
They argue for another few minutes, but Merlin doesn't take any of it in. He just wants to go see Arthur, whole and unhurt.
He heads to the door, flings it open -- and stops dead. There is Arthur, whole and unhurt, save for the way he has slumped down the wall to sit with his head in his hands.
Merlin takes two steps out into the corridor. Then he slides down the wall to sit next to Arthur, dizzy and sick with the knowledge that there is no possibility that Arthur didn't hear them.
This time, they aren't in the bright, sterile laboratory on Merlin's spaceship with its metal table and sharp instruments. They're in Arthur's room where it's quiet and dark, and where they can lie pressed together on Arthur's soft bed.
This time, Merlin probes Arthur with nothing but his warm, long fingers and his slick, eager tongue. Their naked bodies move together in tiny surges until finally Arthur can't stop himself from turning Merlin over and showing him how humans prefer to share their seed.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I FORSEE AN ETHICAL DILEMMA OR TWELVE IN PSYCHIATRIST!MERLIN'S IMMEDIATE FUTURE.
LIKE WHEN HE KISSES ARTHUR AND THEN GOES NOW DO YOU REMEMBER?
*flees*
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EXCEPT WHO CAN SAY NO TO KISSING ARTHUR?
NO ONE.
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Arthur buried his head in his hands while the pen skritched skritched skritched. He hated that sound almost as much as he loved the sound of Merlin's voice, and wasn't *that* something to analyze. "I don't even know why I keep paying you. You're clearly an idiot."
Merlin snorted and muttered so softly he probably thought Arthur couldn't hear it: "Figures, *that* you remember."
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I LOVE IT.
I love sound words so much too.
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Tell me more! Except I know that is not the point of the meme. Sigh.
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(Also, that fic exists right? RIGHT? WHERE IS IT I NEED TO READ IT RTFN)
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Unimpressed by Arthur's bout of existential angst, Aithusa yawned and blew a puff of soot over Arthur's face before burrowing into his tunic for a nap.
"Yes, impossible," Merlin replied, rubbing gently behind Aithusa's horns where they peeked out over Arthur's elbow. "Obviously."
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OMG YES!!!!!
♥______♥
secret baby dragon!
... brb, dying.
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That one where Arthur gets a new crown.
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"We all did, sire," Merlin soothed, adjusting the new crown to sit comfortably. "But accidents do happen."
"I still don't understand how that wildren even got into the treasury, let alone how it ate just my crown before vanishing in a puff of smoke."
"Gaius says there is still a great deal about the wildren we don't understand. But they certainly have excellent taste."
"I suppose," Arthur conceded and wondered why Merlin was trying to muffle a snort into the collar of his jacket.
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"No, Merlin, I am not giving up my crown. I don't care how many new ones you show me."
Merlin waggled the shiny new crown in his hands so it caught the light. "Look, I made it sparkly, just the way you like."
Arthur leaned toward the crown in a moment of temptation, then caught himself. "Absolutely not. The choice of crown is a very personal and intimate thing for a king, Merlin. I wouldn't expect you to understand."
Merlin gave up and rolled his eyes as the new crown dropped to his side. "Look, let's just say that there a number of other very personal and intimate things that will go much better in the future if I don't have to stare at that thing on your head all day."
They stared at each other for a long moment in a battle of wills, but Merlin could tell that he was on the verge of victory. One offer to let Arthur wear the new crown in bed, and Merlin would never have to see the old one again.
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Merlin was huffing and puffing under the weight of his pack full of ancient magic artifacts that would soon be gracing the displays of the Camelot Museum -- if they lived to get them there. "Don't worry, I can do better than that!"
"Better than a plane?" Arthur screeched, grabbing at his hat as they skidded to a stop at the edge of the cliff. He turned around with his pistol at the ready -- but the Druids had turned tail and were running away.
Wait, why were they running away?
Merlin just grinned as the dragon settled on edge of the cliff.
"Right," Arthur said when he could close his mouth again. "I concede the point this once."
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She gives him a dubious look--proving that although Merlin hasn't actually been to the tavern in many months, the staff hadn't forgotten the last time. But dammit, if he's going to get accused of spending all his time at the tavern while he's actually saving Camelot (and Arthur's arse), he might as well get a real drink out of it for once.
A hand falls heavily on his shoulder. "So. Want to tell me again about how you're not always at the tavern?"
As he looks up into Arthur's smirk, Merlin supposes he didn't need that last shred of dignity after all.
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eavesdrops on Merlin and Gaiushappens to be outside Gaius' door and finds out about Merlin's magic.(Edited for html fail)
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It's true and deserved, but that doesn't help Merlin's already frayed nerves. "What did you want me to do? Let Arthur die? You know I'll never do that."
They argue for another few minutes, but Merlin doesn't take any of it in. He just wants to go see Arthur, whole and unhurt.
He heads to the door, flings it open -- and stops dead. There is Arthur, whole and unhurt, save for the way he has slumped down the wall to sit with his head in his hands.
Merlin takes two steps out into the corridor. Then he slides down the wall to sit next to Arthur, dizzy and sick with the knowledge that there is no possibility that Arthur didn't hear them.
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This time, they aren't in the bright, sterile laboratory on Merlin's spaceship with its metal table and sharp instruments. They're in Arthur's room where it's quiet and dark, and where they can lie pressed together on Arthur's soft bed.
This time, Merlin probes Arthur with nothing but his warm, long fingers and his slick, eager tongue. Their naked bodies move together in tiny surges until finally Arthur can't stop himself from turning Merlin over and showing him how humans prefer to share their seed.
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