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Summary
Arthur gives Merlin a knife,
Merlin takes up carpentry.
The fates recast the dice,
Camelot becomes anarchy.𖥸
“Girl.” He near enough whispered taking the back of Merlin’s wrist into his palm and drawing it up to meet his face. He inhaled, still with no exact location of the smell. Moving up Merlin’s arm across his face as the other looked on dumbly.
Reaching the pit of his elbow Arthur stilled, there is was, the fragrance laid upon Merlin’s inner forearm.
He pulled it gently closer, wanting a deeper inhale before confirming and reporting back to the other. He was indeed correct.The trouble was Arthur had regrettably misjudged the space between his own face and Merlin’s skin. Causing his slightly parted lips to brush ever so gently across Merlin’s forearm. Sending a jolt through both men at the feeling. Neither acknowledged the graze but they were effected by it nonetheless. Arthur’s heart rate sped as Merlin’s stopped completely. Four sets of blue eyes widened.
They were both too stubborn to speak. Meaning they sat in purgatory for quite some time, feeling neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. Something strange shifting inside of them as the sun began to set over Camelot.