Merlin was sprawled over his dusty bed, his eyes fixated on the wooden roof that lay above him. The words of Gaius and the dragon echoed in his head, different variations on the fact that ultimately, Arthur could never know about his secret until the time was right. The 'right time', Merlin assumed, would be when Merlin would have to save Arthur's life by means of magic, therefore exposing his secret. Merlin bit his lip; there had been so many close calls where Arthur had been close to discovering Merlin's true identity... So many times where Arthur was close to death, and Merlin had felt in the pit of his stomach that the time had come where he would reveal himself. But each time to his disappointment, Arthur would miraculously survive even though he had been near the face of death so often that he probably knew the stench of his breath by now.
Merlin's throat went dry, as he realised the terrible truth. He wanted Arthur to suffer. Just the thought of Arthur's screeches made Merlin's insides turn over in arousal... If Arthur suffered to the brink of death, that meant that Merlin would no longer have to hide himself. He slowly hinged himself up from the bed and the side of his mouth crept upwards... If he could somehow create this scenario, he would be able to properly present himself to his King. There would be no more lounging about as a lazy servant, or being kicked about by his master; no, Merlin would show Arthur who the true master was. The thought of this sent warm shivers down Merlin's spine as he gently writhed around on his bed, eager to please the King he so adored.
