Songfic Meme:

1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.

My chosen pairing: Merthur.

On Board - Holy Ghost!

"Wait!" Merlin groans as he hears the rapid gallop of Arthur's steed behind him. "I'm coming with you, Merlin."

It's that tone of voice Merlin loathes, kinda, although he may be growing used to it more than he'd care to admit, and he turns to face Arthur, the look of irritation on his face barely masking the gratitude he felt inside. "You're the Crown Prince, sire. You have more important things to do."

"Well..." Arthur rolled his eyes. "I thought I'd escort you. You're rubbish at fighting, what if you run into bandits?" Merlin chuckled inwardly. If only Arthur knew... "Besides," the other guy shrugged. "I thought I'd pay a visit to the villages, and it gets boring in the castle."

Merlin's about to walk towards Ealdor again when Arthur gestures at him slightly condescendingly to hop aboard his horse. "It's much faster. At the rate you're going, you'll never make it back home before night." Merlin glares daggers at him and as he lowers himself onto the saddle, he secretly hopes that the prat tumbles face first into the soil and humiliates himself.

You and Me - Uniting Nations

The lights in the club glare with such psychedelic colour they almost blind Merlin; the beats of David Guetta blare so loudly into his ears, it's giving him a damn headache; and the dancefloor's so packed with sweaty queers he's about to vomit. Still, no light, or noise, or crowd can stop him from checking out the muscled blonde standing a few feet away. The other man notices and they spend a moment or two, checking each other out. He smirks and pushes his way over to Merlin, who is trying to play cool, his heart thumping away like mad as his target's arms stretch and move snugly in a tight shirt.

"The name's Arthur," he offers, just the slightest bit of condescension underlining his tone. Merlin could slap him away or throw out a snarky remark, but he's too horny to do so now.

Clocks - Coldplay

Finally, the kingdom of Camelot is Arthur's to rule. When Uther dies, Arthur grieves, his boyish face never quite breaking into tears, but Merlin can read the sadness all over it, in those gorgeous blue eyes of his. He's by Arthur's side all this time, and the soon-to-be King cannot be more grateful. Sometimes, Arthur simply sits blankly by the edge of his bed, contemplating, and he grips Merlin's hand tightly, his show of love in this time of depression, as the taller, leaner man puts an arm around him and they share an intimate bond even closer than before, during those nights of whispered sweet nothings and muffled kisses.

Eventually, Arthur comes to terms with his newfound status, and the first thing he does is to lift the ban of magic. Merlin now stands by his side, aiding him with his wisdom and powers. And they're able to submit fully into their passion for each other, happy at last.

The Girls - Calvin Harris

Merlin's jealous. He bites his lower lip, trying not to implode into a fit of jealousy as he sees Arthur whispering sweet nothings into Sophia's ear. This girl, she must've had Arthur under a spell, for he did nothing but pine for her, neglecting even the simplest of duties.

It wasn't just being thrown into the stocks so often that pissed Merlin off; he wanted this skank to keep her hands of Arthur. His Arthur. He's not sure when he became so possessive, but Merlin's shared so many intimate moments with the royal prat, he's wont that someone else enjoyed the same. Besides, he's convinced the Prince has a thing or two for him. The way they stole glances at each other, during feasts or meetings or even when Merlin's polishing away at Arthur's armour and his master is bitching on about how incompetent a servant he is, he knows it has to amount to something.

Organized Scenery - Au Revoir Simone

It's under these woods that their stolen passion erupts; limbs reaching out all over each other, shirts and breechs all tangled up, the sounds of their love erupt. Under the chirping of birds and a the canopy of spring foilage, Arthur moans out Merlin's name as his lover exacts his revenge on his master's body, eyes rolled back as he pounds away into a trance, Arthur's tight heat against his throbbing jackhammer, waves of pleasure emanating from where they meet, the scents of wild flowers elevating the whole experience into a nirvanic one.

Lethal Industry - Tiesto

Arthur's sword is raised, blade pointed straight at his long, slender, neck. It's down this neck that Merlin gulps for air, attempting not to freak out. He'd never thought it'd come to this. "Please, Arthur," he whines in a high-pitched voice. "I- I never hurt you! I've only used my magic to protect you-"

"That's a lie," Arthur barks, although just the slightest bit of doubt creeps into his voice. "You could've worked an enchantment into my food, into my clothes, or while I was asleep. I cannot trust you anymore. I'm sorry." And with that, he plunges his sword at Merlin; forced into using his magic, Merlin blasts Arthur into a stone wall and runs away limbs all flailing as Arthur holds his head, bleeding at his right temple, and curses; although it's not certain who's feeling more hurt at the moment, Arthur or Merlin.

One 2.3 Four - Martin Solveig

Merlin has a habit; every Wednesday just before noon, he heads down to the training field after he's magically mucked out the stables. He's certainly not here to learn swordsplay, he can't even hold a broom right Arthur usually whines, but he likes to observe the Prince hard at work, training his Knights with such authority and seriousness it's almost sexy. Merlin loves to look at how Arthur's rippled arms swing heavy swords, pull bows and throw spears. The biggest payoff comes though when Arthur takes off his shirt sometimes, if it's too hot, and Merlin sneaks off to a corner, face paler than before, desperate to relieve the tension in his breeches.

Today, Arthur looks at him all funny when practice is over. It seems that he's has noticed Merlin's little routine as well, and that night he gets his servant to put on a display too, a request Merlin's all too willing to oblige to.

Apollo Gize - Digitalism

The moonlight shines brightly, but calmly, through Arthur's elaborately-framed windows. It should help him sleep, but he can't. He stands by the windows instead, lovesick. He wonders how Merlin would look in the luminous setting. Staring at him, innocent and elfin-like face, mischievous eyes twinkling at him, content. Content to be Arthur's, just as Arthur would be with him.

Sighing, he throws himself onto the fine sheets and buries his head in a pillow. He knows he won't get much sleep tonight, and will likely be grumpy as hell again tomorrow, most likely taking it out on Merlin again. He feels bad, but he can't help it. He wants Merlin so bad.

Sing - Four Tet

Merlin wakes up, the golden rays of dawn filling his eyes. They enhance the beauty of Arthur, his Arthur, his beautiful, golden prince, face soft with sleep and postitively glowing now. Arthur's arms are wrapped firmly around him and he sighs with content. He'd come clean to Arthur about his magical secret, many nervous months ago, and Arthur was surprisingly receptive to the news. He'd sort of known even, the prat. But then Arthur let him in on one further secret of his own, and then there was to be no more secrets between them. He shuts his eyes, wanting this moment to last forever.

It's Arthur's turn to rise and he smiles as he hugs Merlin's lithe, lean frame, looking ethereal as ever in sleep. It warmed him so much that they were two of Camelot's most powerful men, deeply in love and destinies intertwined. He had the athletic prowess and mastery with weapons that was second to none, and the royal authority that ame with being the Crown Prince; while Merlin was something more beautiful and wonderous together, one of the most powerful warlocks to have lived. They'd saved each others' lives time and time again, and with their powers combined they could only achieve great things. It made him swear that he'd protect Merlin against his father's irrational hatred of magic, whatever it took - not just as a friend and an ally, but as a soulmate.

He shut his eyes as well and they snuggle tighter, warm and joined in each others' embrace.

Ignorance - Paramore

"I AM NOT EVIL!" Merlin screamed, his entire being shaking with fear and anger. "I've only wanted to protect you, Arthur. That's all I've used my magic for. But I can't protect you if I'm dead," he continued, lower lip trembling.

Arthur sighs, head buried in his arms. He trusted Merlin - his dopey, mouthy servant, punching bag and peculiar best friend - but warlock? Him, a warlock? It took a while to sink in perhaps, but Arthur was more pissed off that he hadn't known this from the start.

"The cave in the light," Merlin offers desperately, "Or that fight against Valiant? Surely you remember those?" And then it dawns upon Arthur. God he's had a lot of lucky breaks, but these aren't lucky breaks, they're Merlin's doing, he realises.

"I won't say a word," he murmurs, grinding his jaw; he fights back the urge to give Merlin a big, thankful hug as the latter breaks into a huge, relieved grin. That can wait.