Merlin, Who Gives Arthur His Neckerchief For Good Luck Before A Tournament (he Pretends Not To Know What

Merlin, who gives Arthur his neckerchief for good luck before a tournament (he pretends not to know what it means) claiming "I heard it somewhere that doing this could bring you good luck" (he enchanted it to bring Arthur luck during the tournament). Arthur, who is trying to keep a stoic expression as he takes Merlins neckerchief and ties it around his arm. He clears his throat and tells Merlin "I won't need luck," before muttering a soft thank you that Merlin barely hears. He turns around wand walks away, his face bright red as he makes his way towards the tournament.

foster care

First thing you see after you zoom in is how you die

How you dying 👀

As with all momentous things, it began slowly. A sleep tunic and a change of clothes, became a drawer of Merlin’s clothes in Arthur’s wardrobe. Then a book on one of the nightstands turned into the entire thing becoming Merlin’s tiny library because he needed choices when it came to bedtime reading. And half of Arthur’s wardrobe was crammed with Merlin’s clothes, and the quilt his mother made laid over the foot of the bed that Arthur called their’s, and there was enough dust in the room that used to be Merlin’s for it to be considered well and truly abandoned.

Until…

“I cannot fucking believe you!” Merlin shouted, slamming open the door, and striding through it without a care in the world if said door ricocheted back to hit Arthur in the face.

Which it would have if Arthur weren’t trained since birth to have cat-like reflexes. He caught the door, glared at it, and seethed. He flopped down in chair, pinched the bridge of his nose, and waited for Merlin to calm himself.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

Arthur closed his eyes against the pounding in his head. He had plenty to say, none of which would make Merlin any less upset. So he sat in silence until he couldn’t bear the curiosity of what Merlin was doing to make so much noise. He turned, and his heart stopped. In Merlin’s hand was his rucksack that usually hung on a hook beside the wardrobe, and was now full of Merlin’s clothes, and books, and—he’d even packed the fucking quilt.

“No.” Arthur stood, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. No.”

“What?”

“You. This. Whatever idiocy you’re thinking, no.”

“I’m going to my room, Arthur, where I can be away from whatever idiocy you’re thinking.”

“This is your room,” Arthur said slowly, and deliberately so the words could sink in through Merlin’s thick skull. “Do you not think it strange that you have to pack to go to your room? That all your things are here, and you haven’t slept in that tiny closet for months? You don’t just move out because you’re upset with me. You call me an idiot, and turn your head when I try to kiss you, and if I’ve really pissed you off—“

“You have,” Merlin interjected.

“Then you throw my pillow onto a chair and make me sleep in it!” Arthur shouted, and then bit his lip, trying to hold back the sudden rush of tears. Maybe Merlin was more than upset. Maybe…fuck. He sniffled, and softly added, “But you don’t walk out unless you stop loving me.”

Merlin’s rucksack dropped to the floor. “I didn’t—Of course, I love you. I didn’t realize. I just thought…”

“What? That I let all my servants claim my space, and half my bed?”

“Well I hadn’t thought we’d officially moved in together,” Merlin admitted sheepishly.

“We have. Months ago. You live here. I’m a prat. You’re all caught up now.”

And if Merlin wanted to linger in the argument before, he didn’t anymore. He didn’t even really want an apology for Arthur’s pigheadedness, but he got one kissed into his neck, and his lips, and his hair.

(Arthur’s the idiot in modern times here)

In which Merlin does understand the significance of Arthur gifting him his mother's sigil

Arthur: That man wants to sleep with you.

Merlin: No, he doesn't.

Arthur: Yes, he does.

Merlin: He was showing me how to...

Arthur: Okay, anytime a man shows someone how to do something from behind, it's just an excuse for him to get really close and breathe on their neck. Watch any sports movie.

Merlin: That is not a thing.

Arthur: You mind picking up that mug?

[Merlin picks up the mug]

Arthur: No no, you're doing it all wrong.

[Arthur stands behind Merlin and picks up the mug with him]

Arthur: Here, let me show you. No, no, no. I've been doing this for years. See, the way to pick up a mug is like THAT. You just got to relax into it.

Merlin: [Merlin steps away] He wasn't doing that.

Arthur: It's exactly what he was doing.