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When a druid clan visits Camelot to forge an alliance, they offer Arthur a protective rune tattoo as a diplomatic gift. The mischievous tattooist notices the way Arthur looks longingly at Merlin and tattoos a rune on Arthur's back that shields him from harm in battle or, apparently, in bed.
With the tattoo still new and heavy with magic, Arthur finds himself a slave to his own awakened desires from its unexpected side effects – until Merlin offers to help, that is.
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When Merlin accidentally brings home a dragon egg, his relationship with Arthur is forever changed.
When Arthur orders Merlin to stop doing magic, the consequences are what neither expected. Canon era, hurt-comfort
Arthur opened his eyes a minute later to the sight of seven magpies streaking across the top of the clearing, their shapes dark against the white clouds and the muted grey of the sky. He tried to remember what it was that seven magpies meant—he'd had a nurse who had sung the rhyme to him as a child—but couldn't.
Arthur wakes up somewhere he doesn't recognise, but where he clearly belongs.
PODFIC
Arthur can read minds.
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Merlin scrambled to his feet unsteadily, swaying slightly and listening for approaching footsteps, but he heard nothing but birds chirping and the soft rustling of the branches in the breeze. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his knees felt weak and wobbly, so he sank back down on the ground and leaned on the tree, closing his eyes against his blurry vision. It was a relief all right, but as a wave of nausea swept over him, Merlin wondered if it was worth the price. Stupid magic, Merlin thought with a groan, wrapping his arms around his knees and waiting for the world to stop spinning. When Arthur did return ten minutes later, Merlin was feeling much better, and rose to greet him, but immediately he could tell that something was wrong. Arthur’s face was pale and agitated and his gaze darted around in all directions, as if looking for something. “Is everything okay?” Merlin asked. Arthur continued to scan the woods around them as he nodded absently. “It’s time to leave,” Arthur said, his voice anxious.
Merlin has been cursed and lives as a hermit, knowing he has lost something, although he cannot remember what. One day he finds a knight, weak and injured, by the lakeside.
Merlin knew Arthur could be gentle, had seen him handle exquisite weaponry with careful hands and examine fine metalwork by candlelight, but had never realized how that touch could transmute to skin and breath.
