Still I Surface in Morning Light (слэш)

“Merlin,” Arthur says, and his voice has calmed, but there is still steel in the substructure of it. “You asked me to conjure fire; tell me how you've got the burn scar on your chest.”
It is everything Merlin can do not to laugh, hysteria gathering in the hollows of his teeth; of course, this is the scar that Arthur would ask about first. “No. Ask about another one.”