arthur knows there is something to be said of the way a man wears his scars.
his father wears his, an angry silver cord right above his eyebrow, with defiant pride. time and time again, he has seen a visiting noble alight their gaze on the mar, and his father's bellicose stare in return, a silent war between them. i have survived this, the king would say without words. i will survive you.
on his father's men, a constellation of pink, raised flesh-- a rope of gnarled skin on sir bedivere's left arm from the slice of a blade; a thick, white tear in the fabric of ector's neck. when arthur's young, he sits by fires and listens to the tales of bandits, beasts, and brethren who leave the marks on the warriors who arthur loves.
and, in time, they come to arthur. a snaking vine on arthur's right hip. a thin slice along his left bicep. none of them grow angry and purple the way he's seen after the battle dust settles. he's lucky, in that regard, that all his settle into the skin like they belong there. a man who wears his scars not without pride, but whose scars wear him with the same reverence.
his new knights collect them with the same wonder arthur first collected his. a memory of a battle well fought. a time where death reached out its hand and missed. i have survived this. i will survive you.
but they never come to merlin.
at first, when he's young and naive to all the things merlin has done for him, it stands to reason that merlin is never scarred. he doesn't do anything. later, when the truth outs, arthur knows that was as foolish a thought as trusting his father blindly.
merlin fights alongside him, now, in their older years. he watches as blade lunges, as arrow pierces, as spear aims-- and yet, merlin walks away from battle without a scratch. surely, arthur thinks, merlin has just been lucky. maybe his scars are like arthur's-- not quite as visible as his father's, as his men's. hidden underneath cloth and armour.
merlin shares his battlefield, his kingdom, and-- on the luckiest night of arthur's life-- decides to share his bed, too.
it's after arthur has run his hands over every inch merlin will allow him that he realises. not once, in the fog of their union, did arthur's fingers ever stumble over raised skin, divots or grooves.
"what's wrong?" merlin asks, his voice quiet, his lips pressed to where their hands are joined. "tell me if you're about to kick me out of your bed, at least, so i can figure out how i am going to walk after all that."
it's a joke to mask how scared merlin must feel. this is a new development, though one as easy as breath, as predictable as the sun rising in the sky. arthur will tell him that later. for now, though--
"you promised," he whispers into merlin's neck, "to keep nothing more from me."
merlin frowns, his brows drawn together. "i haven't? i mean, if you're talking about my affections, surely we can both admit that yours were the more hidden--"
arthur places a hand over the groove of a lower rib. "here," he says, "is where you were almost run through by bandits, a few seasons ago." his fingers trail down to a hip. "here, you intervened in my fight with some beast or another, and i had to watch gaius give you stitches. and here--"
merlin stops his hand, sucks in a breath. "arthur."
"did you use magic to heal?" arthur finds he isn't angry, not in the way he expects. "i understand, merlin. you had to explain away so much; it would make sense--"
"it's a glamour," merlin admits in the space between his words.
arthur frowns. "a glamour."
merlin can only nod.
arthur knows what the word means, sort of, from the magical instruction and history merlin has given him in the time past their-- arthur's-- new found knowledge of their bond. but glamours, as merlin had explained, are oft for the use of enchantment, so as to make one's romantic interest view them as beautiful--
oh.
he rolls merlin onto his back.
"show me." it is a plea more than a command. it is not from merlin's king, but rather, arthur hopes, his heart.
merlin sighs. his eyes glow gold.
like roots spreading through the earth, a tide rippling over sand, his appearance changes. angry pink gnarls. fine, silver cuts. the faint shadow of where a burn once sat. they litter merlin's pale skin, old and new, in places arthur never could have imagined.
he knows his face must show something that makes merlin turn away from him. with a shaking hand, he turns merlin's chin back to him.
"tell me one thing," arthur says. it is a command, now. "were these all for me?"
there is no air in the room as merlin nods.
slowly, arthur draws in breath. he leans down, then, and presses his lips to one at the base of merlin's neck.
"then," he starts, shakily, "this is mine." another kiss, to his ribs, the puckered flesh of a sword wound. "this is mine." to his wrist, where chains must have sat at the behest of his father. "this is mine," and he's choking up, now.
merlin's trembling underneath him, a quaking branch in the wind. arthur spreads his fingers over merlin's heart, takes its beat in his palm, and looks him in his eyes.
"i will love everything you show me," arthur breathes, a promise, "because it is mine."
"as am i," merlin promises back. "as am i."
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as a historical fashion enjoyer the quarry's "1950s" DLC pack outfits are a bit 'modern people trying to put a vaguely '50s look together with modern clothes' looking to me (which may very well have been their intention!) but here's some ideas because i love to be extra:
emma inspired by casual marilyn monroe looks, but with a retro cheerleader ponytail. i liked the scarf idea but i thought her look read the least as 1950s with the colour choices and style of shirt/trousers. for abi i was looking at a picture of 1950s tomboy style with a bigger sweater and rolled up, masculine trousers. i thought as the artist she should have paint on her clothes, and her hair is curled tighter to look shorter and pinned with a barette. also for a 50s backpack, it should look like [this, probably with its own paint stains too.] for nick he's described as 'nerdy' so i added glasses (i think he had them in concept art too?) and leaned into that so he looks more like doody in grease live lol. the orange soda badge is a gift from a camper.
jacob can wear jeans tbh there should be more jeans idk why supermassive decided that ppl didn't wear jeans in the 1950s, especially elvis-loving teenagers. the classic white tee, jeans and converse look is great for him he just needs the proper 1950s elvis hair. for laura's again i was leaning into casual marilyn , (like i think supermassive were trying to do) just more dressed down than emma with rolled jeans. and she needed a hat! so i also put her hair down. max needs a proper short, gelled preppy hairdo. also i don't think he'd be in a full buttoned up collar and tie to drive down to summer camp, so i used the same-ish colour palette but gave him a flannel.
dylan's look was the most true to 1950s i'd say, so i just used a more exciting print for the shirt. i like the clashing patterns for him. ryan's was also not bad but has very little personality so i thought he could have more of that rebel vibe like again seen in some concept art for him. in the group livestream justice was talking about wanting to play a competent badass character anyway! for kaitlyn she's got the most tomboyish look of the gals, but i missed the colour in her outfit so she gets a fun shirt too. anyway, here they are!
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