Fandom Fangirling

Fandom Fangirling began as my Torchwood blog - posts and pictures, as well as my own writing. I am also a fan of Star Wars, LOTR, the MCU, and a few other things. My Star Wars blog is gmariam19/More Fandom Fangirling. My favorite book is His Majesty's Dragon by Naomi Novik, so I may post about Temeraire every now and then as well. Recently I have been obsessed with Merlin, which I watched when it first came out and many times since. You can find me at AO3 under gmariam (Torchwood and Merlin) or gmariam19 (Star Wars.)

[chiropteracupola]

temrer get podcast :)

[part of an ongoing thought project with @baronetcoins]

[gmariam321]

This is adorable. And I definitely think Temeraire in the 21st century would be absolutely fascinated with modern technology - and smart enough to not only use it, but use it for advancing his cause! :)

[gmariam321]

I'm not surprised it's number one on Tumblr, we're all a bunch of AO3 addicts. But number five on BlueSky? Where did that come from?!

[eliasmustdieart]

I’m slowly forgetting your face

[gmariam321]

So sad but I am in love with your modern Merlin and his eyes!!

[julia-with-luv]

for @merthurmicrofic ︱"tempt" ︱646 words

Merlin doesn't remember why he awoke. There was a reason, he was sure, to not follow the voice he heard. The same reason why he and Arthur were in these woods for the first place, his purpose slipping like gossamer from his fingers.

But now reason fades away as he sees Arthur standing by the water's edge. He turns to Merlin, wearing just his breeches and a white tunic, feet bare in the earth. Even under the pale moonlight, his skin shines golden. His lips curve into a soft smile, the way they only do when there's no one else around.

"Merlin," he says softly. Merlin's eyes track the bob of his throat as Arthur speaks. "Come here."

"What are you doing?" Merlin asks, but he's already obeying, caught in his sun's orbit. Arthur's smile grows as Merlin approaches, and he holds out a hand, beckoning.

"I want to show you something."

Merlin frowns. What on earth could Arthur want to show him, in the middle of the night, deep in the woods? What on earth are they doing here—?

"Oh, don't give me that face," Arthur teases, and catches Merlin's wrist as soon as he's within reach. A hand curls around his skin, hot like a brand. "Just trust me."

"Arthur," Merlin tries again, his mouth going dry. He swallows, like there's something sticky clogged in his throat. "What are you—"

"I know what you want, Merlin," Arthur says. "I know how you look at me."

Merlin doesn't breathe.

"It's alright," Arthur continues. One hand raises to gently trace Merlin's cheekbone. "I want it, too."

Something shudders under Merlin's skin. It must be desire. It must be a want so deep that it's making him feel sick. Like when you've starved for so long a full meal makes you ill.

"Kiss me, Merlin," Arthur whispers. Begging. And Merlin can't resist the temptation.

His mouth falls on Arthur's with a groan, raising his hands to cup around Arthur's nape. Arthur's mouth opens easily under his, tongue swiping hot over his bottom lip, a sigh shared as a singular breath. Arthur's hands wrap around both of Merlin's wrists, like he's afraid Merlin will flee. As if he ever could.

Arthur takes a step back, and Merlin follows, wanting, needing. The slick sounds of mouth on mouth are intoxicating. He nips at Arthur's lips and Arthur responds with an moan, only trapping Merlin further.

Another step, and something cold and wet laps at Merlin's feet. But how could he care when Arthur is so warm, like starlight in his hands?

The kiss breaks, but before Merlin can muster a complaint Arthur is pulling him even closer, fisting his hands in Merlin's tunic. "Shhh," Arthur murmurs, and a tongue roughly drags up the side of Merlin's neck. Merlin whines, clinging to Arthur.

Heavy tendrils of damp creep up from Merlin's knees, to his hips, to his waist. Arthur latches his teeth onto Merlin's throat and Merlin can't help but beg, his tongue loose like he'd just drank through the kingdom's cellar. He falls limply into Arthur's hold, his strength leaving him.

Arthur can have all of him. Arthur can have whatever he wants.

"So delicious," Arthur hisses, and Merlin gasps with marvelous pain as Arthur's teeth dig into his collarbone. His head spins and eyes blur. "You'll feed me so well."

The sounds of the water wash all other noises away. Like footsteps on the riverbank, or the furious shouting of Merlin's name.

Arthur fists his hand into Merlin's hair, and pulls back. Merlin cries out, still arching into Arthur's hold. He grabs at Arthur, tries to hold him closer, cold scales catching at his fingers. "You're too late," Arthur says, eyes silted and yellow. "He's mine now."

"Merlin-!"

And then the siren captures Merlin's mouth again, and drags him down, down, into the depths. And Merlin lets him.

[gmariam321]

I started a one-shot about modern day Arthur meeting Merlin, only Merlin doesn't have his memories of their past together and Arthur does. It's going well and will probably be more than a one-shot as I have a lot more to go - they're still running into each other at Tesco and haven't had coffee yet. The Merthurmicrofic prompt for return has sort of exploded into much more, but it felt like such a neat idea to explore that I had to run with it, and I'm happy with it so far and the potential as it continues. Here is the opening section, where Arthur first meets Merlin. Hopefully it won't take too long to finish - thanks for reading!

It’s late on a Friday night, and Arthur Pendragon is tired, hungry, and annoyed. Tired after a long day of working too hard for too long, hungry from missing lunch and dinner because of that work, and annoyed by everything else about his sad, sorry life. All he wants to do now is go home, pour himself several glasses of wine, and marathon The Lord of the Rings all weekend, preferably without leaving his flat; he only needs the wine and maybe some food to go with it.

Arthur likes his job, he does. Or he used to. Now he questions it more and more each day. He likes his coworkers, though, and his friends and his family, even his sister. But so much has changed recently, and he desperately needs time to reset, to sleep and eat and think. To consider his place in the world and maybe reconsider his life choices. To process the memories that returned unexpectedly three months ago, leaving him sick for days as he tried to understand and accept another life lived and lost over a thousand years in the past.

Arthur had taken three days off while his head pounded and then threw himself back into work. It didn’t help as he wondered more and more if he was doing the right thing with this life, for the right reasons. He had moved house as another poor coping mechanism, thinking it would be a fresh start, but it wasn’t. His flat is still empty and cold, his job is still unsatisfying, and Arthur feels more confused and alone than ever.

The local Tesco Express is unusually crowded that night, and Arthur almost gives up. He could simply order takeaway all weekend and not worry about small things like whether he has eggs for breakfast or milk for tea. He doesn’t really need any bog roll, does he? Or biscuits for a fourteen-hour binge watch of the greatest fantasy story ever told?

He’s walking down the aisle, staring at the meager contents of his basket and contemplating putting it all back, when he walks hard into someone standing in front of biscuits. The dark-haired man stumbles and drops his basket, and Arthur can’t help but roll his eyes, even though Arthur was the one who clearly wasn’t looking where he was going and is definitely at fault.

“Sorry,” he says peevishly, stepping over various items on the floor so he doesn’t crush them. “Didn’t see you.”

“Obviously,” the other man mutters as he bends down to pick up his groceries, and there is something familiar about the voice. “No need to worry about us plebians going about our day.”

“No need to be rude about it,” Arthur snaps. “I said I was sorry.”

“Barely,” the man snaps back as he throws a bag of crisps back into his basket. “Clotpole.”

Arthur stops cold, shakes his head. No, it couldn’t be. Could it? He turns around, dreading the disappointment. But as the man rises to his feet, Arthur meets familiar blue eyes under a mop of dark hair. The same smile, the same ears. The same confused tilt of the head as the man raises a questioning eyebrow.

“All right, mate?”

Arthur is staring and can’t help it. Nor can he help it when he steps forward, dropping his basket to the floor. He reaches out, and the other man watches in confusion as Arthur puts his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Gods, he’s been searching for months, how is it possible?

“Merlin,” he whispers, burying his head in the crook of the other man’s neck and breathing deep. He’s never been one to cry happy tears and he’s not about to start now, but oh, is he close. He’s felt so alone for three months, with no one from his life in Camelot to talk to. And now he’s found Merlin.

Only the other man stiffens, then takes a step backwards, away from Arthur. The look on his face is wary, bordering on alarmed.

“Sorry, do I know you?” Merlin asks. His rich baritone fills Arthur’s heart with memories of all their arguments, all their fireside talks, all their teasing and insults. But Merlin’s face is still cautious and confused.

“Merlin, it’s me! Arthur!” He reaches out once more. Merlin takes another step back, and now his eyes harden, his face shuttering as he shakes his head.

“Sorry,” he says. “I don’t recognize you. Are you sure you have the right Merlin?”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Really, how many Merlins are there in the world now?”

“2,412 in the UK alone,”  Merlin replies. “Perhaps you should try running them all down in the Tesco aisle.”

Arthur purses his lips to bite back another retort. It is so easy to fall back into old patterns, but something is off. Does Merlin really not remember him? His face shows no sign of teasing, no indication he recognizes Arthur at all. Arthur feels something in his chest tighten, and he takes a deep breath to relax his sudden fear that something has gone wrong.  He tries to smile, though it must look forced because Merlin smirks in that way Arthur remembers from so long ago whenever he did something the other man could see right through.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur apologizes once more, and this time he means it. The last thing he wants to do is frighten Merlin when he’s finally found him. “It’s just that you look very much like someone I once knew, a long time ago. A good friend. Someone named—”

“Let me guess – Merlin?”  Arthur nods, then realizes he’s been had when Merlin grins. “I’m afraid I don’t remember meeting you, and I don’t remember any friends named…” He trails off, obviously waiting for Arthur to finish the sentence.

“Arthur,” he offers quickly. “My name is Arthur.” He holds out his hand, but Merlin shakes his head in easy dismissal. Arthur tries not to let his disappoint show at both the lack of recognition and the rejection.

“I’d say it was nice to meet you, Arthur, but you did run me over in Tesco.” He shrugs ruefully. “I hope you find your friend, though. Good night.” He turns and starts to walk away, but after a moment of frozen panic, Arthur calls out.

“Wait!” He grabs his basket and follows, not sure what to say, what to do. He can’t lose Merlin, not now, after finally finding him. “Please – do you want to get a coffee?” he blurts out.

Merlin turns around with an exasperated look on his face, which Arthur remembers well. “It’s a bit late for coffee.”

“Tea, then?” Arthur continues, heedless of the embarrassment he can feel creeping up the back of his neck. “A quick pint?”

“Sorry,” Merlin says. “I can’t. Besides, you should probably look for your Merlin. Good night,” he says again, pointedly, and this time he strides away quickly, before Arthur can say or do anything but stare after him.

“Tough one, mate,” a man in a long brown trench coat offers as he walks by. “Better luck next time.”

Arthur doesn’t know if there will be a next time. After three months of looking in vain for someone, anyone, from Camelot—of waiting and searching and despairing—he’s finally found Merlin, in the most unlikely of times and places. Arthur had not expected to run into his former manservant in his local Tesco Express, tired and hungry at the end of a long day.

And he had certainly not expected Merlin to have no memory of him.

* * *

[thebookluvrr1816]

our destiny (insp)

[gmariam321]

I know it's been a while, but I finally posted the next chapter of my story...

Destiny Rising - Chapter 9

I've just about caught up to myself and am definitely slowing down - I thought I'd write forward while I posted what I finished but life had other plans, of course. Motivation is also low so I started a one shot based on my last drabble to sort of inspire/kick myself into continuing this one. I have big plans for it, probably too big, with some hints in this chapter, but I plan to continue. I've probably been reading too much Merthur on AO3 and should put down my iPad and write more! Thanks for reading, though - enjoy!

[fan-a-tink]

Merlin | Hadestown

[ughmerlin]

MAJOR ARCANA: BBC Merlin edition (insp.)

[gmariam321]

This is so very cool!!

[gmariam321]

@merthurmicrofic prompt: return ( 175 words)

Arthur had not expected to run into his former manservant in the local Tesco Express. And he had certainly not expected Merlin to have no memory of him. It had been heartbreaking, seeing the complete lack of recognition in the other man’s eyes slowly turn to wariness. Arthur had quickly backed off, apologizing for mistaking Merlin for someone else. He’d offered to buy him a coffee nearby, but Merlin had shaken his head, suggesting Arthur find his friend instead. At least he’d been smiling. Which meant when Arthur saw him there again, he was able to make a joke and received another smile in return. After four smiles, Merlin agreed to have coffee with him—but still had no memory of their life together in Camelot. One coffee turned into regular meetings, into dinner, into their first kiss. But there was no big magical revelation—Merlin did not remember him, and everyday Arthur wondered why, what had happened to him, how he could help Merlin remember who he had been. Arthur had returned, but Merlin had not.

An idea I've been thinking about recently for a one-shot: Arthur returns, but Merlin has no memory of him. Not sure if he recovers, either. Though I definitely tend toward happy endings, I also like the idea of them still having a happy ending without Merlin recovering his memories. But then, typing this post just gave me an idea for a nice little twist so who knows what will happen now! If I even write it. It was fun trying it out for my first microfic, though! Thanks for reading!

[koffeinkaos]

Arthur's love for Merlin is a wound tearing him apart while Merlin's love for Arthur is holding him together.

[gmariam321]

Now flip it and cry even harder. 🥺

[gmariam321]

I vividly remember staying up late 13 years ago to watch the final episode of Merlin, pirated here in the US since we had to wait six months otherwise. Thank you Daily Motion for allowing me to spend Christmas Eve sobbing in the basement while Arthur died and a piece of Merlin died with him.

Thirteen years later I finally joined the fandom, started writing fic, and continue to wonder where the hell the season six modern day reboot is.

2026 is the year!

[ughmerlin]

BBC MERLIN: “THE DIAMOND OF THE DAY” first aired 13 years ago on December 24, 2012

[gmariam321]

If you're looking for a good holiday read, I just binged this lovely story:

The Planets bend between us by Leandra

Perfect Christmas story - baking and friendship and holiday markets and small town life and mistletoe and pining all wrapped up in a bow!

Oh, and lots of smut!

[abandoned-sewer-rat]

okay but like are these not basically the same shot just from different angles

Merlin 05x13

Torchwood Children of Earth: Day Four

[gmariam321]

When fandoms collide

When immortals love mortals

Why do we love them?

[superohclair]

what I want is a merthur fic that reckons with the very real and right feelings Arthur should have for being lied to by his closest friend, and I don't want Merlin forgiven for the choice either, but to live with the fact that his lies hurt Arthur in ways that cannot be repaired.

I think about the sword in the stone episode, where Arthur is at another of his lowest points, and possibly the lowest yet in the series, and is so devastatingly lost to himself, until he pulls Excalibur from the stone and accepts himself at last--and how it wasn't Arthur at all, but Merlin, because it was Merlin's magic that dislodged the sword that Merlin's magic also put into that stone.

I'm not saying that it's not a very satisfying and powerful scene. I'm saying that we as a fandom needs to reckon with the fact that Arthur is routinely betrayed by his best friend and partner, and that's not something I can imagine him being okay with, however much he loves Merlin and however much Merlin does what does because he loves Arthur, too.

I just think about how much that story of the sword in the stone meant to Arthur, and how it must have felt to see his faith in himself be something he himself granted to himself and how powerful this is to experience when you don't know who you are, to be returned to yourself like this, only to discover later (and he never does, I guess, in the show) that it wasn't true in the way he believed it was, even if it was true in other ways.

I'm rambling, but basically, I just want to be honest about Arthur's agency in this show, and how much sympathy I have for him, and that I don't think he's a dumb dumb who was willingly obtuse to Merlin's true role in his life, and that he didn't deserve being lied to like he was, and he was right to be so angry and hurt at the end, however painful it was to watch that scene.

[gmariam321]

Well, as much as this hurts, you make a really good point about the sword in the stone. And while I have read many fics that do explore Arthur's hurt and anger over Merlin's lie, including some where it takes them a long time to work through the betrayals, I've not seen a single one in which Merlin reveals the truth about the sword. Most tend to focus on how Merlin lied to Arthur about his mother, and are usually resolved because Arthur tends to understand that Merlin was stopping him from killing his father, and he's aware that he would have absolutely regretted it.

But the sword...now that I think about it, Arthur might not forgive that. It's blatant manipulation. It's such a great scene, so well done with beautiful visuals but damn: it's all a lie.

So it might be interesting, and heartbreakingly painful, to read a fic where Arthur does not, in fact, forgive or accept Merlin and all the lies he's told over the years. It's sad really, that Merlin believed so completely in Arthur as king, but not as his friend. Done right, it could be something that breaks Merlin and starts the villain arc he could so easily slip into. Or conversely, Arthur becomes the villain, though I think I've seen that a few times and it didn't feel quite as right.

I've always thought that in the end the tragedy wasn't Arthur's death at Mordred's hand, but so much more. Now there's something else to add to the list, the sword in the stone.

[a-classic-bj]

That which is hollow must change to whole or forevermore be bereft of the soul.

"Well, that's a bit dramatic, don't you think?" Merlin raised a brow in imitation of the man next to him.

"That's how the druids are, Merlin, you should know that by now," Gaius murmured.

They had both bent low over the workbench as they examined the plain bronze ring that rested in the middle. Gaius had retrieved his piece of magnifying glass in order to read the text engraved around the inside.

"You're sure you didn't recognise who gave this to you?" Gaius asked as he slowly returned upright. His hands reached around and massaged his lower back as he turned to Merlin.

"Never seen them before in my life," Merlin shrugged. "Like I said, Gaius, they just appeared next to me while I was at the market and the only thing that stood out was the Druidic mark on their hand."

"Hmm. And that normally bodes well for any of us when a stranger gives you a clearly-magical artefact that's intended for Arthur?"

"Just because they said 'for he who needs it' doesn't mean it's for Arthur, right? I know lots of men! Knights, servants, craftsmen, why they could have even meant you!"

"Indeed." Gaius decided it was his turn to lift his eyebrow. "Because out of all of these other men, you have reason enough to believe the druids - known believers of prophecy and somewhat obsessed with Arthur's reign - would want one of them to have it?"

Merlin is saved from coming up with a feeble reply by Arthur's arrival. The king strode into the physician's chambers and stopped short of the workbench.

"Gaius. Merlin." He nodded to each of them in turn. "I seem to have run out of both my muscle ointment and the herbal treatment for my bath. Would you be able to replenish them?"

Gaius turned to Merlin and gestured him toward the edge of the room.

"A 'please' wouldn't go astray," Merlin grumbled under his breath as he went to fetch the bottles.

"What was that, Merlin?"

He looked back over his shoulder as he reached the shelf, made sure his smile was guileless. "I said: it looks like it'll be a pleasant day."

Arthur huffed and ducked his head to hide his mirth. Gaius, too busy making sure Merlin wasn't mucking up the arrangement of his stock, didn't notice Arthur had spotted the ring they were examining. The king picked it up gently and turned it between his fingers. Satisfied with some unknown criteria, he slid the ring onto his right thumb.

A deep, resonant thrum caused master and servant to jump and face each other.

"You hear that?" Merlin asked.

"I felt it, more like." Arthur shook his head slightly.

"What on Earth are the two of you talking about?" Gaius' gaze shifted slowly between both sides of the room.

"You're saying you didn't hear that, Gaius?" Merlin's incredulity dripped from every word. "It was like the warning bell was struck but louder and stronger."

"Richer." Arthur cut in.

"I'm positive I would have noticed if…" Gaius trailed his eyes over Arthur's hands. "Sire," he asked slowly, "why do you have that ring on?"

Arthur glanced down briefly and frowned. "I, um, I actually don't know. I saw it and picked it up and then it just… felt right to put it on."

"I see. And you know this is a Druidic ring? One of their many magical artefacts?"

"What?!" Arthur yelped. Merlin snickered as he watched his fearless king wave his hand about as if it were covered with animal droppings. "Why didn't either of you say something?"

"Forgive me, Sire. I wouldn't have thought I'd need to monitor the King of Camelot as if he were a waist-high delinquent." Merlin, almost doubled over, made no attempt to hide his outright guffaw at the reprimand.

Arthur finally finished his frantic flapping to glare, red faced and breathless, at both of them. "It's not coming off." He gave the bronze band a mighty tug. "If neither are you are going to be actually useful, I'll just have to find some kind of tool to remove it with."

No one in the room ever found out which exact tool the king would seek. As he stepped over the threshold of the doorway, both he and Merlin cried out sharply and clutched at their hands; Merlin at his left, Arthur at his right.

"Ah. Well, I suppose that does rather confirm it, then," Gaius said.

"Let me guess," Merlin sighed. "Arthur, in all of his clotpole wisdom, put on a magical ring that's now going to cause untold problems, and I'm somehow connected?"

"Astounding, Merlin. You should become an academic instead of a bumbling manservant," Arthur drawled as he returned back to the workbench.

"He's not entirely incorrect, Sire. If memory serves, what you're wearing is most likely the Band of Nascadh. In essence, a ring of bonding that's typically reserved for political alliances or, in some cases, more…" Gaius quickly flicked his eyes between the two men, "amorous purposes."

"What?!" Arthur yelped. Again. Merlin, meanwhile, had flushed a brilliant red and did his best to look everywhere except at the other occupants of the room. "Then how does Merlin come into this? Is it just because the ring has reacted to him? Does it want us to work faster together to restore magic fully to Camelot? Or is it to do with the druids and Merlin is the closest thing to one?"

"Your guess would be as good as mine on that front," Gaius shrugged.

"Well then, how do I get this ring off, if we don't know for which reason it's stuck on?"

"Sire," Gaius said wearily, "if I knew the resolution, then I would have suggested it when I explained its purpose. It seems like it's only up to you to know."

"Brilliant. We've been, effectively, cursed, with no clear reason as to what will fix it and, judging by our hands, we'll need to keep each other in sight for an undetermined amount of time. Truly, these are the days as king that I've longed for." Even wasps couldn't have compared to the harshness of Arthur's little diatribe.

"Arthur, it'll be fine," Merlin offered. "We're basically in each other's pockets as it is. I doubt a little ring could do anything that drastic to change how we go about our day."

Gaius looked like he was trying very hard to keep his face impassive as he wished them both luck and sent them on their way.

***

Arthur and Merlin being in the same room during their daily routines was, naturally, very common; only some of the more laborious and time-consuming tasks required Merlin to be absent. However, what quickly became clear was that the ring would not allow it.

They felt the sharp strain in their hands as Merlin attempted to fetch lunch, which meant they had to venture out, together, and awkwardly ask Gwen to deliver it for them. Arthur grumbled the entire time, swore and cursed anyone he could think of under his breath. Merlin, for his part, didn't find any issues because he always liked to see Gwen and he wasn't as uptight as Arthur about asking for help.

For the rest of the afternoon, they were pushed incrementally closer together, as dictated by their pain. It felt as if every hour that passed acted as a countdown, with the personal space they were magnanimously allowed to have being squeezed tighter and tighter. By the time the afternoon training session with the knights arrived, Leon took one look at the pair of them - they could now only keep apart a bit more than an arm's length each - and carefully suggested that it would, probably, be for the best to give this one a miss.

Arthur, understandably, was incensed by the time they made it back to his chambers.

"How am I supposed to get anything done with you stuck to my side?!" he raged.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sire, I forgot that this is actually all just a delightful picnic for me and not in any way inconvenient. It's my deepest heart's desire to be attached like this." Merlin flashed his best smile. He, as of yet, wasn't quite as upset at the whole situation. Considering he enjoyed seeing the king rattled like this, it was all the more reason to use the energy he had left to needle Arthur.

"Gods, shut up Merlin, I know!" Arthur closed the distance between them and clapped a hand to Merlin's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I know it's not your fault. The speed at which this… enchantment, I suppose, is pushing us together just feels ridiculous."

"That's the druids for you, I guess," Merlin chuckled. Arthur's thumb barely grazed the side of Merlin's neck, making them both shiver. "I…" Merlin swallowed and licked his lips. "Let's just get through the day and see how tomorrow goes, yeah?" Arthur darted his eyes to Merlin's lips before he nodded. The pair stared at each other for a few more moments before they mutually broke apart to go and see about dinner.

***

They had reached the point of the day that now caused Merlin to have some actual hesitation: the sleeping arrangements. It was one thing to sleep in close proximity when out on a quest or hunting trip, it was another entirely to do so in the king's bedchamber. Especially when he'd had some decidedly non-servant-like emotions for the prat before all of this started.

Merlin made himself a small nest of spare furs and pillows on the floor. He extinguished the candles with a whisper and curled up on his side, facing the bed. He heard Arthur wriggle and pause every few seconds and let out a deep sigh.

"I don't suppose we'll get away with this then?" The throb from Merlin's hand gave him his answer before Arthur could.

"Seems unlikely." The next pause lasted almost a minute. "Fine, get up here then. But if you snore, Merlin, you're getting kicked out, hands be damned."

He made sure his snort was audible as he climbed in between the sheets on Arthur's right side. It took no time at all to get settled, this time on his back. A tiny part of him hoped that, maybe because of this whole ring situation, he would get to sleep here frequently. Purely for the comparative luxury of the bedding, of course.

The pair laid side by side and stared up at the deep red canopy. Merlin knew that they probably needed to work out a plan for going forward in this joined state. His mind drifted back to the fine print of the inscription.

"So, you did read the inside the ring before foolishly putting it on, right?" Merlin offered into the darkness.

"Hmm. Something about… holes?" came the slow rumble of Arthur's voice.

"No, you dollophead. It was about changing to become whole."

"That's ridiculous," Arthur scoffed. "I'm perfectly hale and hearty as can be."

Merlin turned his head to stare at the profile beside him, at the royal features faintly visible through the shadows of the night.

"You heard what Gaius said about the ring's use, too," he murmured.

"Leave it alone, Merlin." The fact that Arthur hadn't turned away was promising.

"Why? Don't think I haven't noticed how cranky you've been about all this." Prodding was Merlin's speciality; he thanked the cover of darkness for helping him in his task. "Is it because you think I'm not good enough to help you with political things? Or is it the whole romantic-"

"I just don't want things to change!" Arthur ground out, harsh against the silence. His breathing had quickened, each puff sent a miniature ripple through the mattress. "We've gotten through so much already: the danger, the secrets. I don't… if it doesn't work, I…"

Merlin steadily reached his hand out under the covers. "Arthur," he whispered, "it's us, why wouldn't it work?"

His nimble fingers found Arthur's own calloused ones and slotted them together. He felt the cool press of the ring against his own thumb before a shock of warmth zipped up his arm and settled in his chest. Based on Arthur's sharp gasp, Merlin wasn't the only one affected.

Arthur finally turned to meet his servant's gaze, then looked down to where their hands were hidden. Merlin rolled to his side and used his free hand to cup Arthur's face, thumb slowly sweeping until they made eye contact again after another shared shiver.

"Trust me?" Merlin breathed as he slid his head along the pillow.

He wasn't so oblivious that he didn't know most of the castle's inhabitants thought he was smitten with the king. And they were right. His torch had been burning for some years now; each day, either mundane or extraordinary, stoking the flame ever brighter. The question was whether the king had picked up on it.

Despite fervently looking for it, he'd never gotten any indication of returned interest from the prat. For all of their shared confidences, romantic interests were hardly ever noted by either party.

But now… maybe today's behaviour had given away more than all of their years together so far.

Arthur's eyes, despite the lack of light, roamed over the face before him. Merlin held himself taught throughout the examination, as if that could hold back the slow trickle of hope that had started to build in the silence.

Merlin gave a quick squeeze to the hand in his own. This must have been the secret signal, as Arthur stretched forward and let his lips briefly caress Merlin's own.

The same deep thrum from that morning startled them, noses barely missing each other as they jolted.

"That's… not a bad sign, surely?" Merlin wondered.

Arthur's laughter lit up the room, bright as any candle, as he rolled over on top of Merlin. The floodgates had opened and the king let himself spill forth, kissing and caressing as much of his warlock as he could reach.

The pair spent the remainder of the midnight hours alternating between dozing and exploring their wealth of pent-up desires.

Neither of them noticed when the Band of Nascadh released its hold of the king's thumb and tumbled away into depths of the sheets to await its retrieval.

***

When they returned to Gaius' rooms the next morning, hand in hand, and dropped said ring on the workbench, the physician merely rolled his eyes at them.

"If such a change only took a single day, perhaps it's wise not to argue with the results," he chuckled.

Arthur simply stared, mouth unbecomingly open, as Merlin pressed a swift kiss to his cheek.

"Maybe there's a point to all that dramatic flair, after all. Should we set out to find the druids and personally offer our thanks?" Merlin flung an arm around Arthur's shoulders. "If they can help this dollophead to get his act together, maybe a reward-"

Merlin's laughter lingered in the room well after Arthur dragged him out by the scruff of his neck.

Gaius sighed and picked up the ring. He smoothed it with his thumb one last time before he returned it to its box, tucked away on a high shelf.

He hummed to himself as he prepared for the day. In his long life, Gaius had learned that, sometimes, change was natural and other times it needed a little nudge. Either way, there was no guilt to be found in helping those who truly needed it.

@merthurmicrofic prompt: change (2600 words)

Merthur Microfic Bingo: first kiss / forced proximity / magical object / POV: third person / past tense / humour