Anyone know good places for Merlin icons? I'm paying for the space for up to 30 icons, and I'm currently only using about eight; I feel like I should remedy this
( Read more... )
Physically, Arthur’s horse is a lovely creature: strong and sure-footed, intelligent, fast in all the ways that matter. Temperamentally, though, she’s a bit of a right bastard at times. Some days, she is the most ill-mannered beast in the stables, ignoring all directions and snapping at anyone who comes near.
One Tuesday, Arthur sends Merlin to the stables to ready his horse for a ride. Arthur never takes that ride because his horse is in a temper again, enough so that Arthur’s barely able to grab her bridle and lead her back to the stall, both of their moods sour. Arthur dodges bites and the occasional attempted kick as he strips her of her tack, years of experience the only thing keeping him uninjured.
Later, when Merlin is curled against him and Arthur is tracing the bumps of his spine, he looks at Merlin’s bruise-free skin and thinks about how Merlin, who can barely sit straight on a horse on a windless day, managed to get all that tack on and still escape unscathed.
Merlin snuffles a bit in his sleep and tucks his head into the crook of Arthur’s neck, moves his hand until it rests flat on Arthur’s abdomen. His nose is cold where it presses just below Arthur’s ear; his fingertips are warm where they lie on Arthur’s stomach. Arthur smiles at the contrast.
Physically, Arthur’s horse is a lovely creature: strong and sure-footed, intelligent, fast in all the ways that matter. Temperamentally, though, she’s a bit of a right bastard at times. Some days, she is the most ill-mannered beast in the stables, ignoring all directions and snapping at anyone who comes near.
One Tuesday, Arthur sends Merlin to the stables to ready his horse for a ride. Arthur never takes that ride because his horse is in a temper again, enough so that Arthur’s barely able to grab her bridle and lead her back to the stall, both of their moods sour. Arthur dodges bites and the occasional attempted kick as he strips her of her tack, years of experience the only thing keeping him uninjured.
Later, when Merlin is curled against him and Arthur is tracing the bumps of his spine, he looks at Merlin’s bruise-free skin and thinks about how Merlin, who can barely sit straight on a horse on a windless day, managed to get all that tack on and still escape unscathed.
Merlin snuffles a bit in his sleep and tucks his head into the crook of Arthur’s neck, moves his hand until it rests flat on Arthur’s abdomen. His nose is cold where it presses just below Arthur’s ear; his fingertips are warm where they lie on Arthur’s stomach. Arthur smiles at the contrast.
From my favourite one-man show.
Reply
Leave a comment