They're paired by their music teacher for their final assessment, a Battle of the Bands-style playoff. Unfortunately, she doesn't know that a bit of high school drama went down at term-break. She doesn't know what this one song she's making them play might mean to both of them.

“You don’t appreciate my natural-born talent,” Arthur said mournfully. “I suppose I will just have to remind you of how spectacular I really am.”

In which Arthur tries his hardest to make Merlin scream, and Merlin tries his hardest to make Arthur realize that he is, in fact, a giant princely prat.

The reason SAS Captain Arthur Pendragon can't keep a communications specialist in Team Excalibur because none of them are good enough. And then Lieutenant Merlin Emrys gets assigned to his squad, and Arthur does everything he can to prove that Merlin isn't good enough, either. Except he is.

"He predates S.H.I.E.L.D. Everything we know about him are stories of legends."

It might be difficult to seduce someone when you want to climb their boyfriend like a tree. Merlin learns this the hard way when Uther mistakes him for someone who knows how to seduce anyone at all.

"Ah! I was right! You weren't doing it correctly. No wonder it hurt, you idiot."

"Shut it. Oil isn't going to make anything smaller and it isn't going to make anything bigger!"

In which it's 1964, Camelot is an advertising agency with a budget problem, Merlin is a copywriter who loves to twist, and Arthur is a junior partner who loves to shout. More or less.

Being fuckbuddies goes well for an entire semester. Until it doesn't.

In which there is pining, Merlin bakes, Arthur borrows batteries he doesn't actually need, and did I mention the pining?

Merlin's addicted to Craigslist, Arthur's looking for love in all the wrong places, and with a little help from their friends, they manage to get it together.

Wherein Mike is Merlin reincarnated, Harvey is Arthur, everybody else is everybody else, and they fall in love. Again.

Arthur stares at him. It's not the incredulous stare or the how-are-you-so-stupid stare or the Merlin,-sometimes-you-are-wise-and-it-unnerves-me stare.

It might, possibly, be the speak-quickly-or-I-will-kill-you stare.

They're both less innocent than they were a thousand years ago; less trusting, more broken. This time, Merlin is the one who gets called on his behaviour – and it's true, he thinks ruefully, he'd stopped bothering to learn the names of those around him long ago – and Arthur is the one who refuses to leave anyone behind. This time, Merlin is the one saying words like "idiot" and "moron," and Arthur has the stupid ears.

"What I'm thinking," Arthur says, dodging the crochet question with a small pinch to Merlin's side, "is that you need to let him catch you the way you caught him. See how he feels watching you shag some other man. Then when he confronts you, call him a hypocrite, tell him you'd never have done it if he hadn't first, and finish it off with a well-deserved fuck-you."

Arthur is Merlin's tech support at work.

Arthur is a BNF and Merlin is his prized beta.

Of all the many things Merlin had ever worried about getting arrested for, despoiling the king's ward hadn't been one of them.

In which Prince Arthur meets Merlin and all hell breaks lose.

In the not so distant future, Merlin builds a tower. That's not suspicious at all.

In which Merlin is the most harangued PA in Westminister, Arthur is on the back of the backbench, Uther harasses Merlin (though the Queen never does), Morgana is very clever, and the datebook will take its revenge.

As soon as it happens, Merlin knows it's going to be one of those up-against-the-wall things.

"I don't like to share." Arthur smirked at Cadwgan, who was settling himself heavily on a facing bench, just around the curve of the rough circle. Merlin flinched at that, forcing down his natural urge to protest that he was not Arthur's to share, regardless.

Arthur, Merlin, frat brothers, the Dragon, Arthur's BlackBerry, script writing, shitty hip-hop music, Dogma, FATE & DESTINY - oh God I wish I were joking.

Merlin’s not quite sure how this game started, but he can see exactly where it’s going.

Arthur is an Oxford Blue. Merlin is an Oxford cox. Lancelot is Merlin's romantic-dalliance-loving friend. Morgana is horribly clever; Gwen is cleverly waiting for Lancelot to grow up. Merlin and Arthur rub each other the wrong way, at first, but it soon becomes clear that Arthur is a university-class rower with a world-class heart (yes, I typed that). Clichés ensue.

When Merlin woke the next morning, he spent a good ten minutes staring at the canopy, trying to convince himself he didn't remember where he was and didn't remember exactly what he was doing there and how many times he had done it.

Gaius taught you magic was something you learned, like an art. Nimueh taught you magic was a gift, something unknowable. If they were alive today, neither could explain how you never got old. How you can’t die.

Lancelot changes things for everyone.

"You shall be awarded a position in the royal household. You shall be Prince Arthur’s manservant."

The first time Lt Arthur Pendragon properly met A1C Merlin Emrys, he was doing push-ups on the floor of the Fort Campbell weather station.

Lancelot was not a great man, sprung as he was from common blood and barely proven. It was not for him to cut away that magic, steal for himself a little piece of a power that could render Albion mighty. It was neither right, nor his right.

It hadn't been Nimueh's destiny to die at his hand, on this isle. And if her destiny could be broken… so could anyone's.

Their first attempt at having sex lasts exactly ninety seconds, which is the precise amount of time needed for Merlin to reach behind Arthur's back to try to unhook his nonexistent bra, and for Arthur to smooth his hands over Merlin's chest to palm his nonexistent breasts. The moment of utter confusion is followed immediately by a supremely awkward silence.

Anyway, that’s how it starts. With Merlin’s smacked-around-the-head-with-a-wet-fish-for-the-umpteenth-time-today expression. With his discomfort at having seen Arthur fuck another man. (It’s wrong, Merlin doesn’t think, but knows. He doesn’t remember how he knows, or why, the feeling imprinted in his bones when they were still small and brittle, but he knows.)

As it turns out, the "citizen" is one Merlin Emrys, a former Lance Corporal for the Independents and a wanted criminal.

"The sorceress has a destiny that must be fulfilled. She shall return. She will be called Nyneve, and she will be given another chance. Are we in agreement?"

In which there are aerialists, decorative metal flowers, prejudices, artsy books and magic. Obviously.

It was not lost to Merlin that seemingly all the major events in his life happened rather anticlimactically. Ironic, Merlin supposed, because so many of them were outside the realm of the ordinary, even in a world where magic still lurked around the edges.

It was just after midnight on a Sunday in June. Merlin’s life was about to change forever, but he didn’t know it yet.

Arthur has never really understood birthdays; why should people celebrate them when they bring nothing but sullen, angry fathers and a lingering sense of uncomfortable guilt? It doesn’t help that his birthday is in November and the weather is inevitably foul and cold, freezing grey rain sleeting down outside.

1928, Cairo. Merlin Emrys is a special librarian and aspiring archaeologist. One day his brother, Will, brings him a new find of his: it could lead them to the fabled city of Amunhaptra, resting place of the pharaohs, and to some unforeseen adventures.

Arthur and Morgana are Metropolitan police officers drawn into a strange case involving robbery of ancient artifacts. Merlin is a graduate student at Imperial College studying the healing plants of Ancient Britain under Gaius – or at least that's what he tells everyone. Soon they, along with Gwen, Lancelot and Uther, will be facing a battle for the future of the country. Can they defend the realm from those who would seek to destroy it?

Merlin is content, but not exactly happy, in Ealdor, so when his mother's friend Gaius' shows up with a tale of dragons under castles and priestesses and an exiled prince, Merlin is thrilled to listen. The reality, however, isn't so great: the priestess is a killer, the prince is a prat, and the dragon sure does have some curious ideas about them. But Gaius is saying it's Merlin responsibility -- destiny, even -- to help Arthur win back his kingdom, and to evade all the forces amassing against him on the way. This would, of course, be a whole lot easier if he could stand to be in the same village as Arthur for enough time for them to stop arguing.

Uther fears his son's power, and Merlin has helped Arthur flee to escape imprisonment. Now the two of them must fight to regain Arthur's rightful place in Camelot.

When Merlin first hears that Arthur has been betrothed, his ribs pull inwards with an odd little hitch, and he only allows himself a second—which he needs in order to coordinate spinning in place without falling on his face—before he’s running to Arthur’s chambers.

Merlin abruptly wakes up in History of Magic.

A Merlin-Supernatural Fusion. After a bitter parting and four years of silence, Merlin is contacted by Arthur to help find Uther, who has disappeared on the trail of Nimueh. Merlin is drawn back into the hunt, criss-crossing Britain in a vintage Jag with Arthur at his side, tracking ghosts, spirits, fantastic beasts, and Nimueh, the being responsible for the deaths of Ygraine and Hunith, years before. As well as the hunt, they must deal with their own relationship, and Merlin's special gifts that have begun to re-emerge.

Gwen and Lancelot cannot be allowed to get away with their betrayal of Arthur.

What really happened was that when Prince Arthur was born the King started boasting of his manly virility, saying that Nimueh's magic had been a fraud and that only he was responsible for the Queen finally begetting a child. And so, when Nimueh heard about this she enchanted the King and all his subjects, as well as all children born henceforth on Camelot soil with the most fitting curse she could imagine.

Desperate to get over his feelings for Merlin, Arthur assigns him to a new knight at Court, Sir Gawain, only to watch helplessly as Gawain and Merlin get on far too well. Even with Morgana's help, winning Merlin back doesn't turn out to be as easy as Arthur had hoped.

It's been a fair few years now and Merlin's powers don't seem to be good for much but whoring any more. He sees Arthur around (follows him around), mostly on sports teams (he started off three-day eventing, polo, fencing, but now it's football, rugby, cricket), once or twice a politician, an actor once as well. He's been a lot of things; sportsman, mayor, cult-leader, general ... people will follow Arthur anywhere. Merlin does, for a start. He knows he probably shouldn't.

Can the most famous film star in the world fall for just an ordinary (well, kind of) guy?

This is the punishment Arthur devised for him, he realizes; betrayal and disloyalty repaid with unforgiving, implacable forgetfulness.

They kissed like it was no surprise; like it had been leading up to this all along, like taking one step forward and two steps back was an intricate dance and not the end of their relationship, like they were always going to end up with their hands clasped when the music stopped.

Arthur never thought he'd grow to hate the feeling of safety in Merlin's presence.

Merlin has always felt like the fifth wheel. Theoretically he should be the fourth one, indispensable to the balance of the whole, but somehow the other three wheels have taken up all the weight and left the fourth wheel to wobble along, useless. It's not a good feeling; Merlin can tell you that. So he nods goodbye to Morgana, claps Arthur on the back, hugs Gwen tightly, and leaves.

Merlin thinks his asthma should be downplayed somewhat, it's perfectly controlled (he has set alarms each morning and night to remind him to take his preventer inhaler) and it doesn't stop him doing normal, everyday things (if he's not too energetic or around irritants in the air). After years of his mother coddling him and being over protective about it, Merlin can't help but feel a little freer, fewer pity eyes looking at him when he's being held behind in the playground when the pollen levels are high. Whatever, Merlin thinks, he'll like to be rebellious just this once.

"No! Arthur. You're straight, all right? You're completely and entirely straight. Because if you're anything else, if you're gay or bi or even curious or what the fuck ever, Arthur, you will ruin my entire fucking life."

Camelot is under attack. Edward Cullen comes to help. Merlin hates his life.

There's something in the air, pulling them together and pushing the kingdom apart.

Merlin goes to a brothel to get rid of that virginity thing and runs into Arthur. From there on, it's all madness.

Apparently Arthur's reaction to dropping acid is that he remembers.

Everything.

History books would not remember Gaius’ death precipitating the greatest war Albion had ever seen. That blame lay entirely with an inexperienced sorcerer and the Prince whom he’d betrayed a hundred times over. Future!fic with a time travel twist. Inspired and loosely based on The Sword in the Stone.

Arthur in Ealdor was like a tame lion at the dinner table: you weren't necessarily worried you were going to get torn to pieces, but it was still dangerous, decidedly out of place, and made the neighbors nervous.

A series of random meetings in the rain turn into something more than Merlin would have expected. Warning! This fic contains: a string quartet, a damp flat, one black cat and lots of rain.

Merlin thought he knew what to expect from his life until he met a fortune-teller and then a dragon.

It was love at first sight, and Merlin knew it - when it came to the flat, that was. Merlin wasn't anything like as clear about the man he was going to have to live with.

Merlin's immortality proves to be both a blessing and a curse as he watches the cycle of reincarnation pass him by. Being repeatedly reunited with Arthur only to lose him again takes its toll. But this—this is not a solution he ever would have wished for.

They’re somewhere over Greenland and the dark cabin is finally, blessedly quiet – God, Merlin thought the woman in 32A was never going to stop pressing her fucking call button – when the lavatory door opens suddenly in front of him and he’s yanked inside.

He leans his forehead against the trunk of the tree and breathes slowly until Hallow flies down and calls for him to 'hurry, have courage.' It has taken three months and a lifetime to get here after being summoned from so far away, and his courage is hanging by a thread.

Merlin Emrys had strong convictions on the subjects of love and marriage—namely, that they should be avoided at all costs.

In a society where people with magic are considered to be dangerous, are labelled as freaks, and have their powers cut off from them, Merlin does whatever he can to survive the hard life he’s faced with. When he’s in desperate need of money, Merlin’s landlord Aredian arranges and offers a magically binding contract in which Merlin is to become a ‘companion’ to Uther Pendragon’s son, Arthur. And when Merlin feels compelled to accept it, he never would have imagined that one man could change his life so completely.

The first time, Merlin really doesn’t recognize him, which Will tells him later is ridiculous, though Merlin will swear on anything that it’s true.

Merlin knows that getting off fastest when he's got some BDSM porno playing loud on the computer doesn't mean he'd really like to be that bloke, gagged and bent over and bound. Right?

Following a rather different ending to 2.10 ("Sweet Dreams"), Merlin and Arthur head to Olaf's kingdom of Valden to put things right. In the process, Merlin racks up an impressive series of treasonous crimes: insolence, incompetence, tripping while running for his life, and accusing the crown prince of snoring are only the beginning.

Merlin regrets ever becoming a conman. Not because he lived his life on the run; not because he broke thousands of laws along the way; not even because he was eventually caught and imprisoned for three years.