#Uther is trying

[lover-of-midnight]

Childhood Trauma

Arthur took a small step back; Uther was still screaming. All he wanted was the truth, why was that so much to ask for?

He could see Merlin shaking his head, warning him not to continue. Arthur clenched his hands into his pants as he looked at the floor. Jumping slightly when Uther suddenly placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Your mother loved you, Arthur. She loved you more than life itself.” Uther gave a single and the people rushed from the room. Giving them some space.

Arthur forced himself to look Uther in the eyes. His voice was soft. “I need to know, please father. Did you use magic to have me?” There was a pleading in his voice. His hands were white with force, and he was trying to hold onto the last part of his sanity.

Uther took a deep breath. “Yes, we did. And we knew the price. We were ready to pay it as well. We just didn’t know it would have been your mother.” Uther forced the words out, hoping it would give Arthur some peace.

Instead, Arthur took another step back, tears burning his eyes. “It is my fault she is dead.” It felt even more real than normal. He always heard the whispers in the hallways when he was younger, taking it slightly to heart.

It was his fault. Every bad thing that happened in the past, was his punishment for causing his mother to die.

Uther wanted to say something, but Arthur just turned around, leaving the council room, ignoring his father as he called him back. He knew that he would be punished for this at a later stage.

But he needed to get away. Arthur froze when a hand wrapped around his wrist. Stopping him. Being suddenly pulled against Uther’s chest, Arthur couldn’t help but tense up.

“It is not your fault. No matter who said what. It was never your fault. She loved you and wanted you more than anything. Never think it was your fault. You were innocent there Arthur.” Uther wasn’t sure what came over him.

Just a feeling that he would lose his son.

He held Arthur against his chest, holding him close. Giving him comfort. Arthur closed his eyes. Wondering if it would have been better to just ignore what he saw. Still, there was something about hearing Uther say it wasn’t his fault when for so long it always felt like he was the one who killed his mom.

AO3 Link

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

For those of you who wanted a more violent gif for Uther:

This one's for you! <3

TW: Blood

[cbk1000]

Woke up at like 1:00 in the morning and could not go back to sleep (💀), so naturally I spent the next several hours waiting for my alarm to go off by writing a fic in my head where Arthur pisses off a witch by being his little bratty self, and she puts him under a love spell that makes him act on his deepest desires, which are to have basic affection and be loved. Merlin wakes up that night to find Arthur climbing into bed with him because he wants to spoon. The spell is just all the things Arthur wouldn't say or do even under torture, so his little ensorcelled ass spends the whole spell trailing after Merlin trying to hold hands with him and talking honestly about his feelings. Merlin is deeply, deeply disturbed; Arthur is going to bury him in the woods so he can't ever speak of anything he's seen as soon as the spell is broken. Merlin also cannot reject him to save his own life, because Arthur is earnest and sad and lonely, so he has resigned himself to dutifully reporting to Arthur’s room each night for cuddling, and mapping out exit routes for when Arthur snaps out of it and tries to stab him to death so there are no witnesses to his humiliation.

This is also how Merlin finds out Arthur already knows about his magic and hasn't said anything because he's waiting for Merlin to like him enough to feel he's worth confiding in. He also has not only been covering for Merlin's insane lies for a while, he has a secret GTFO bag stashed in one of his clothing chests because Merlin is an idiot he expects will be caught sooner rather than later practising magic, and they'll have to flee Camelot before he's beheaded.

[itbeaheadcannon]

hc that merlin and Gwen (who are besties btw) are absolutely running shit. Got a problem? Go to them - always to them. They're the ones who know the most about the castle and have full control of the royal schedules.

Uther does not know about this and neither does Arthur - however whenever either one of them pisses Merlin or Gwen off or they just do something like seriously fucked up (looking at you Uther you absolute ass) they bury them in work.

and I mean like bury them: making them wake up at like first light for an 'emergency' (apparently someone thought they saw a sorcerer) straight to training the Knights, to a meeting with the council to deal with the non-existant sorcerer, to confirmations of a celebration

they don't know what the celebration is for. (in truth it's not for anything, the castle just wanted an excuse for a party, and it's funny gaslighting the royals into thinking they approved some random ass celebration a few weeks ago)

The servants know and 100% annoy them with inane shit because their "input" is needed (no the fuck it's not, but getting to fuck over royalty is fun for them)

random servant #1 to Uther: Apologies for interrupting Sir, but the seamstress wanted to confirm time for your fitting for your outfit for the celebration tonight?

Uther, baffled asf running on 5hrs sleep: celebration? there is no celebration??? and what colour scheme

Servant #1 trying not to cackle: yes sir there is? you advised of it just last month - the seamstress just wanted to take last measurements

Servant #2 elbowing #1 to get their shit together: and the blue and purple scheme? You approved it over a month ago, and Prince Arthur confirmed last week before preparations were made.

(all the food is stuff Arthur and Uther barely tolerate and mildly hate and their alcohol is weak asf - meanwhile the knights and everyone else are eating amazingly, drunk off their asses)

more in the tags lol

[eldritch-ambrosia]

It’s a good thing that Merlin doesn’t ever push Arthur when he’s showing affection because Arthur would implode immediately if he had to think too long about it. Could you imagine the (deleted!!) sigil scene if:

Arthur: Just… take it. Merlin: Why are you giving me this?

Arthur: *sweating* Arthur: It’s… a bird. And you’re a bird. Merlin: …what?

Arthur: You know because… a merlin.

[justaz]

sometime during season 2 merlin realizes how dense camelot is. he’s been accused and even confessed to sorcery multiple times and no one has believed him. even when aredian accused him of sorcery, uther was hesitant to execute him. UTHER was HESITANT to execute him after being accused of SORCERY. merlin gets accused of sorcery bc people think he’s put them under a love spell. he’s gone to arthur at the darkest of times and whispered how he could perform a spell to save everyone and arthur bites back that its not the time for jokes.

merlin realizing how stupid everyone is. he tests it a few times: he gives gwen a bouquet of flowers and tells her he conjured them with magic, she just laughs and thanks him for the flowers, mumbling about how funny and ridiculous he is; he joins the servants in their ranting over their jobs and says that he has a trick up his sleeve to complete his job…magic!! they ohh and ahh sarcastically and mutter how much easier their jobs would be if any of them actually could do magic; he tells leon straight up that he’s planning on killing uther with magic, leon just laughs, pats his back, and wishes him luck.

the whole city is so fucking stupid!!! merlin tests his luck further and blatantly commits acts of magic in front of people and they’re just like “:o how odd…oh well” and go about their day. someone comments on merlin’s eyes going gold and he’s just like “mmmmyeah my eyes just do that in the sun sometimes” and NO ONE questions it. he notices how people go out of their way to help him and they slip him things for free or just as gifts. he notices how much he gets away with with arthur and morgana and even uther. merlin spills a bit of wine and uther goes “i will never understand why my son insists on keeping you around” and merlin smirks and goes “i put a spell on him” and uther throws his head back in laughter

merlin doesn’t perform obvious acts of magic, he doesn’t yell out in the old tongue in front of anyone or whatever, but he gets away with magic so much and he knows that no one will ever truly suspect him or accuse him anymore (and if he is accused then it wont go anywhere, uther will just roll his eyes and wave away the accusation) so he just stops giving a fuck. he ends up helping morgana with her magic and is like “yeah this kingdom is so fucking stupid i wouldn’t even worry about it girl”

[therulerofallpotatos]

It is funny to imagine that in Excalibur, Uther believes that Merlin is in love with Arthur

He discovers the sword Merlin went out of his way to have forged for Artgur and is just like: oh...Oh wow that is not a normal amount of loyalty. that is...Merlin is in love with my son

[leondegranced]

My piece for DarKymi for the Merthur Glompfest 2023!

[dead-inside-pt2]

*Merlin gets banished from Camelot for being a funky little magician*

Arthur: Go, If you ever return it would be on the pain of death

Merlin: Okay *Exits the gates* Merlin: *Immediately turns back around and runs into Camelot again*

Arthur, who would never allow his death: You are the stupidest person in all the five kingdoms

[ethan-acfan]

I'm just gonna say this, Uther was always preaching about how magic is the source of all evil even though his son was born from magic so do yall think he subconsciously started believing his son was evil

[futurepastme]

The King's War - A promise made in blood

(Pt.1)

The day Merlin became Emrys (Cannon divergence AU)

He knocked.

He stared at the door waiting for an answer that never came, then pushed the door open and entered.

Merlin is Arthur's servant, which means that he got the privilege of cleaning his clothes and polishing his armour, as well as bathing the prince. He had seen the state his garments got after tournaments, after returning from long journeys where they both fought monsters and creatures, and Merlin has seen the state they got after bandit attacks. He has mended and cleaned and washed every piece of it. Tear, dents, mud, dirt and blood. Merlin had seen and fixed it all.

Or so he thought.

Arthur sat in front of the fireplace, drink in hand and eyes locked at the flames that were the only source of light in the whole room. They danced on his face, bringing an eerie shine to the blood that completely covered the prince.

Merlin felt sick again, the room reeked of blood and Arthur was the main source of it. From head to toe, Arthur's hair, clothes, gloves, boots, they were all bloody. The armour was carelessly scattered around the room as if they had been thrown, even his sword ended up under the table. Merlin didn't want to look closer, he knew they would be bloody too.

Merlin fought against his feelings and slowly made his way to where Arthur was.

"Perhaps a bath should be in order, My Lord." Merlin asked with a low, hoarse voice.

He didn't get much of an answer from that, Arthur made a slight movement with his head that could pass for half a nod and Merlin decided to consider that a yes. He turned around and started to work in autopilot, he brought in the tube, filled it with water and half kicked the armour bits that entered his way into a wannabe pile.

He didn't breathe, he didn't think, he didn't feel and most important of all: he didn't look, focusing entirely on the normal and mundane task of preparing the bath. He felt more than saw Arthur walking around getting rid of his clothes, clothes that Merlin would have to deal with later. That's what his goal was right now, deal with it later.

Arthur dipped inside the tube still holding his glass and Merlin knelt down next to him, he reached for Arthur to start cleaning him but when his hand finally touched the Prince's blood-stained skin he felt the walls he had so carefully built around his senses crumble down.

He could feel it all. Fear, despair, sadness, anger, he could hear the screams and feel them running away, and he could also feel the heat that came from the flames. Merlin's eyes filled with tears and he felt his breath get caught in his throat, then he pushed all aside and started scrubbing. He wouldn't break down.

He scrubbed Arthur's arms and legs, he washed his face and his hair and most of all he cleaned his hands. His Arthur, his Prince, his golden King that carried sunlight in his smile and kindness in his heart; he wanted to hug him, he wanted to scream at him, he wanted to hate him. Instead, he scrubbed and cleaned.

He was not rough, no, he would never hurt Arthur. His hands were gentle while washing him, slowly going through every inch of his uninjured body like he was a poet writing sonnets on Arthur's skin, as if his fingers alone could cleanse him of every evil, like he was a god granting forgiveness for a sinner.

They kept at it for a while, Arthur drinking from his glass with his gaze stuck somewhere far away, the water running redder as it dripped down from Arthur's body, and Merlin scrubbing so gently at the Prince's skin that it could almost be compared to a lover's caress.

When he was done, he dressed Arthur, refilled his glass one more time before putting the bottle away, placed the emergency sleeping draught on Arthur's bedside table, and started collecting both the clothes and the armour from the floor. Every new piece he picked up sent a chill up his arm and down his spine, he tried his best to block it all off.

When he finished, he looked back at Arthur one more time — he sat at the edge of the bed, glass half full on one hand and eyes back on the flames — before heading to the door.

"Try to get some sleep," he whispered and let the door close behind him.

Merlin didn't make it very far, but he did managed to reach a window before throwing up.

Thick tears went down his face and he let his body slide down the wall, he let his barriers collapse and every feeling he had suppressed so far came down on him like a raging sea. He tucked his knees against his body, held his hair tightly pulling at it in despair, and right there in a hallway between Arthur's chamber and Gaius' tower, sitting in a pile of bloody clothes and armour, Merlin broke down.

He was shaking, his body heaved with his crying and he wanted desperately to make it stop, please, God, make it stop. He felt their despair and heard their cries, breathed their last breath with them, felt the stab of swords against his back when he ran with them and cried their lost upon their now rotting corpses along with the earth. Merlin's mouth opened in a quiet scream, his magic wanting to flare up, to protect him, protect them, to do something, anything.

He heard them calling for him, begging for help — please, Emrys, please help us, have mercy, — and where was he? Where was Emrys when his kind, his people, were being murder in cold blood? Stuck in a stupid island trying to go back to Arthur. How many had died that he could have saved if only he had been here to help? How many of them died by Arthur's hand?

It was too much pain, too much suffering, Merlin wanted it to stop, please stop — help us, Emrys — stop it, gods why?

Merlin sat in his bubble of pain and suffering, being consumed by the pleas and the tragedy of his people in a way he didn't think it was possible, he never felt anything that could ever come close to that.

Slowly he felt them quiet down enough for him to be able to acknowledge his own feelings of shame and guilt, his people were promised a saviour that would help bring forth a golden age where they could once again be free. He asked again, where was that saviour when they needed him?

The pain was still latent — he had a feeling it wouldn't leave anytime soon — but he managed to let go of his hair, hugging his legs instead, letting his head rest against the cool stone beneath the window. He gazed at the moonbeams for a while before closing his eyes and let more tears fall. He felt his people's blood underneath him soaking Arthur's clothes, felt the pain coming from it.

He made a promise right there, nothing ritualistic or extremely deep and noble, nothing people would write about one day, no. It was just a thought, a promise to himself and to his people in the simplest form a promise could be. A simple thought while he still felt their pain and the tears still streamed down his face.

Uther wouldn't win. Merlin would make sure of it, no matter how many hunt parties he sent, King Uther would never be able to get rid of magic. Merlin would not sit back and watch as his people, his kind, were persecuted and murdered in cold blood. He would do something, he would help them.

Uther Pendragon would have to pry the golden age of Albion from his cold dead hands.

[desultory-novice]

Sir Uther walks up to Noir Fontaine with purpose, having his usual happy-go-lucky smile and perky attitude. It was a surprise to see yet another human in this tournament ...well, atleast human-like. He instinctively reaches out for a handshake, eyes locked on Noir's face.

"Are you human?! MY~! I only ever saw the other one named Jade! Unlike her, you seem to be named after a color in french! Do tell, are there still any left of your species? Or are you all nearly extinct? Do you also have a history with Dark Matter in particular? I have so many questions~!! ☆"

His crystal eyes twinkle in delight, this truly was an opportunity to gain so much useful knowledge!

"Oh! And that entity, Zero as well! Does she exist in your world?"

"Hi! Wow! You're big! Bigger than I thought you round guys got!" 

Noir greets you with a boyish smile, though... ...He does not accept the handshake.

"You look like one of those Galactic Soldier Alliance people! I wrote fanfic about you! I can't let you read it because it's really cringe, but that's only cause when I was young I dreamed of being a hero, so...if you're ever recruiting, let me know maybe?! I'm not all that strong... but I'm passionate and have a strong sense of justice and somehow, I've got a lot of experience handling situations where all the evidence you killed anyone is gone because their bodies just disperse into matter once they're dead enough and the snow hides all the blood!"

[cw: mild body horror below]

"...What was I saying? Oh, yeah! I'm human! Whoa, there's another human here too? I should've figured that out, huh? I feel like I've been in a daze since I got here (or maybe even longer than that) and have been having a really hard time paying attention to stuff till lately when it all started coming back into my head REALLY FAST!"

"?! Do you speak French?! My mom taught my sister and me a little French and Japanese, cause of our ancestry, (what's my dad? I don't know! Maybe he's French-Japanese too?!) though we mostly speak Global at home. My name's supposed to be in Global but it's pretty cool that it means something in French too. 'Dark.' Sometimes I wonder if I was named after my hair? Though my sister's is the same color, pretty much, so that couldn't be it. Probably a coincidence?"

"Speaking of, my sister's human too and she's still around! We're separated right now, but my little brother's with her! (He's Dark Matter, since you brought it up! Yeah, he's adopted, but he's my little brother and if anyone says anything mean about him, I'll ****** them!) They're surrounded by friends too, so I don't worry!"

"It was really hard to get off the planet last time I was there, and it was getting pre~tty cold and people who got left outside tended to disappear till next year when you could find them again thawing out on the road but it's hard to imagine we've just gone extinct! I mean, the people from the New World had to have gone somewhere!"

"Hmm? Z...e...?"

"...r...." "...o...!?"

"M-muh...M-Mas..." "...pl...ea... ey...e...c-can....t... "...bre...athe...."

-

Noir clutches his throat. The dark, burn-like cracks on his skin that had been easy to ignore till now seem to crawl up, to his chin and beyond. A thick metal collar around his neck, barely visible between his gloved hands, hums with a dark violet glow before he passes out.

Elsewhere, an otherwise unremarkable looking sword in the stolen stash of a small Dark Matter begins to vibrate, seeking its host.

@kirbyoctournament

PS: Wisp belongs to @moonsharkss and while he's still in the lead this round, it's close, so if you want to give him a vote...!

(Help I forgot his hands!)

-

Noir's Field Trip Masterpost

-

AN: Welp, add another one to Sir Uther's body count/list of crimes...

So, I still have some "Cheerful" (...although more like his brains have been scrambled) Noir asks to answer/send out that I'll get to when I have time (writing him is a bit exhausting tbh... ) but I have gone ahead and drawn this to "progress" back to the main tourney story! (You didn't think he could stay this way forever, did you?)

TLDR, We're back to regular Noir (...or whatever other AU hijinks happen to come his way that affect him in some manner?! Magic anons...???) but if you wished to interact with or send another question to Noir explicitly during his short lived cheerful phase, lemme know! Though whether I get to it will depend on how I'm feeling ^^

-

(...Fwiw, I'm pretty sure if he stayed this way for too long, the emotional cascade would eventually give him a full on mental breakdown as his refreshed, innocent psyche finally catches up with processing all the traumas that made up his life.)

[akane022]

can you all imagine if excalibur was the only way for merlin to die on? excalibur, forged on a dragon's breath and meant only for arthur, the sword that killed arthur's bane and merlin's shadow and could not protect arthur would also be merlin's end

[ghostofdiamonds]

(not so) fun fact: last fall I started watching Merlin with my mom, but now I dodge the question whenever she asks about continuing because I really can't deal with watching a show about "hiding who you are from those who wouldn't accept you if they knew the truth" with my conservative mother.

[vooruitmariek]

@mortiscausa's march to camelot 6: grudge

Uther wages war on Gorlois to get Ygraine

[seleneprince]

Based on this

The Crow

It dawns on her there. She's going to die in the Hewn City. They left her there to rot away, alone and miserable, like the other miserable souls around her. Dark shells of beings that can't even be called people anymore.

No one would look for her here. She knows. They've been looking for excuses to get rid of her for ages. They'll be relieved with this.

"She was a wretch, got what she deserved", she can hear them say, as they complain and celebrate over cups of expensive wine—the same wine she was shamed for drinking.

A wave of pure, unbridled rage rises inside her. She feels the familiar burn itching beneath her skin, threatening to spill out and destroy everything. And a part of her wants to let it happen.

She has never lost control like that. Her weapons have always been her words and the poisonous barbs she cast with them. It’s a part of her, of who she is, as much as she hates it. But this fire—this cold inferno that has been boiling within her since she emerged from the Cauldron—she refuses to acknowledge. Ever since, she has keep it contained in the deepest corners of her being, pushing it back whenever it arises. The pain and exhaustion she gets from it are worth it just for the satisfaction of proving herself stronger than the magic.

Until now.

She finds herself struggling to keep her flames at bay. She senses how they're whisper away to break out of her body, to roam free and rampant along with her angerbetrayalsorrowguilt. That voice in her head that always urges her to let go grows louder than ever, and she tries, she really does, but she's so tempted now. So eager. She's tired and hungry and so, so mad at everything. At everyone. She has done it all and it still wasn't enough for them. They've dumped her like a pile of trash to a place where they keep the worst people in the world locked up.

Its what they've always thought of her, right? Something rotten and worthless to be locked away for eternity, so it doesn't corrupt others?

Cold sparks jump between her fingers. She recognizes them. They grow bigger and she doesn't stop it, because why should she. What's the point. It's not fair. Notfairnotfairnotfair...

"There you are, my love," a smooth voice murmurs behind, breath brushing against her ear, "You got me looking everywhere for you."

Nesta is pulled back to reality as strong arms surround her, one secured around her waist and the other on her shoulders. Her back meets a broad, warm chest, and she stiffens as her brain gets a hold of the situation.

When she does, she fights against his hold with all her might, but he hugs her tighter, and his lips move against her ear.

"There's a group of males following you since you stepped out. Play along until they leave."

She freezes. The male moves back and Nesta feels him turning back a little, still shielding her.

"Thank you for looking after her until now, everyone. You can leave us now."

Murmurs and shuffling reach Nesta's ears, sending a chill through her as she realizes he was right—she had been followed. How had she not noticed?

"¿Didn't you all heard me?," he chuckles, but she senses the threatening edge there. "Fuck off. Before I make you."

Nesta hears them scramble away hurriedly, their footsteps fading into the distance. They remain like that for several minutes, until there's nothing but heavy silence in the street. Then, with a suddenness that catches her off guard, he lets her go, and she stumbles slightly.

She turns to face him, torn between thanking him and hurling insults. But as she catches his face, her words die on her lips.

He’s taller than she expected, around Azriel's height, probably. Dressed in brown-green leather, he wears a sleeveless top that reveals toned arms, and fingerless gloves that end at his elbows. Nesta’s eyes dart to the knives hidden within his layers, strategically placed around his waist and legs. But it’s not the weapons that catch her attention.

Half of his face is concealed by a partially pulled hood, casting shadows across his features, while a dark veil shrouds his eyes, adding an air of mystery that unsettles her. There’s a raw aura emanating from him, a soft but fierce energy that makes her heart race in anticipation.

His mouth draws a crooken grin, showing his sharp teeth. Nesta holds her breath...

A sharp caw echoes in the street, and Nesta sees at that moment a black crow flying over their heads. The male extends his arm just as the animal lands naturally on it, emitting a caw that sounds like a greeting.

The scene looks straight out of a weird dream to her. As if sensing her confusion, the male laughs softly, scratching the cow's head as he walks towards her slowly.

For some reason, Nesta can't bring herself to move, stuck staring at him until he's towering over her.

"Are you scared of me, darling, or is it my cane that bothers you?"

Nesta blinks at his question, processing that he's actually talking to her and this is all real.

"Your cane?"

"My crow. He's my cane in a certain way, you know. I know most people don't like him. Can't blame them, though. He's an asshole."

"Oh"

She doesn't know what to make of him. The way he talks and acts clashes greatly with the impression he gives off. But she knows how deceiving people can be, and she's heard enough of this place to know most of its residents can't be trusted.

"Thank you for saving me earlier."

"What do you mean 'thank you', darling? I don't do anything for free."

"Excuse me?"

He sighs loudly, as if he's repeating something simple to a child.

"I want money, obviously. A guy has to eat here. But I also accept favours...or kisses," he leans closer to her, smirking. "I saved your beautiful face from something worse than death. I think I'm owed a good reward."

A chill runs down her spine. She should have known. This is exactly the kind of person that makes the Hewn City what it is. A place for greedy, twisted creatures who indulge in their vices without restraint and embrace violence as a part of their daily lives. Assaulting women is just one of the many horrors they promote.

Nesta feels the air thicken with tension, the weight of his presence suddenly pressing against her like a tangible force. She steels herself, fully aware of the implications of being alone and defenseless with a man who considers taking kisses from females as 'reward' the norm.

Then he bursts out laughing, shaking his head. The crow seems to laugh with him. Nesta stares at him perplexed as he steps back.

"By the Cauldron, I wish I could've seen your face. I smelled your fear so clearly I thought you were going to bust into a giant flaming ball at any moment. Ah," he wheezes. "I'm fucked up, darling, but I'm not that fucked up. I only accept kisses when all the parties very much want to kiss me. Don't worry."

Nesta begins to calculate the right angle to kick him hard enough in the balls so he's limping for weeks. A voice suggests that setting him on fire would be much more enjoyable.

"You're a sick son of a bitch."

"Yeah, and the grass is green. Nothing new under the sun. Well, more like under the mountain. Get it?" He grins, expecting a reply. "Nevermind. Try to be more careful around here, darling. Specially since you're new. This place is full of sick sons of bitches, but not all of them are as nice as me."

"Who the hell are you anyway? Why are you helping me?"

He smiles again, but this time it’s not playful; it’s laced with something darker, a secretive edge that hints at eagerness. The corners of his lips curl, revealing a glimpse of those sharp teeth that sends a shiver down Nesta's spine. She can sense the challenge in his expression, an unspoken invitation to dance on the razor's edge of danger. And, much to her frustration, she's not entirely taken back.

"I'm Uther, at your service" he finally says. There's a certain heaviness on his voice when he does. "I've heard a lot about you, Lady Death."

The air between them crackles when those words are spoken, and Nesta’s pulse quickens. She’s suddenly acutely aware of every detail—the way his muscles ripple discreetly beneath the leather, the shadows that play across his half-hidden face, and the alluring blend of danger that surrounds him.

"Welcome to your new prison."

(This is your fault @jon-snows-man-bun - @the-anonymous-unikitty - @aurenturley - @c-starstuff-man0)