Merlin knows it. In the deepest recesses of his being, he knows that this has to be the most ridiculous situation that anyone has ever gotten themselves into in all of history. Lo and behold with his amazing luck it would happen to him.

He scans over the words in the tattered tome for the umpteenth time, unwilling to believe them.

Arthur had taken the knights, and Merlin, on a hunting trip at the crack of dawn. Unsurprisingly they ran into a vengeful sorceress and Merlin ended up jumping in the path of a spell aimed at Arthur. Strangely enough, nothing had happened. He didn’t immediately fall down in pain, faint, or feel poisoned, hell he didn’t even feel uncomfortable. All he felt was his magic react to coming into contact with another’s magic.

They had made it back to the citadel where the knights dragged Merlin to Gaius’ chambers to be looked over, only for the physician to find nothing wrong with his apprentice.

Once the knights and Arthur had left to attend to their daily duties, Merlin started pouring over the books of the old religion trying to find the spell that he had been hit with. It had only taken three hours to find, much quicker than usual. And Merlin wants to laugh, because really what else can he do in this kind of scenario?

As the reality of the situation starts to sink in, embarrassment heating his face, he violently slams the book shut.

“Merlin!” Gaius chastises from where he is preparing to go to the lower town for a birth.

The physician's demeanor softens when he sees how flustered the warlock is. “What is it, my boy?” He hobbles over.

“Nothing!” Merlin exclaims much too loudly, earning him The Eyebrow.

“Merlin, if you found the spell you must tell me so I can help you.”

Merlin cringes, “Gaius, please” he pauses, thinking about how to word his scrambled thoughts. “I promise you that I am not in any imminent danger. If it comes to that I will talk to you but for the sake of my own sanity I can not tell you right now. Please-” his face feels as if it’s on fire as he looks anywhere but Gaius’ face.

The physician gives him a weary look but concedes. “Promise me if at any point you need my help you’ll come to me.” His soothing tone manages to make Merlin feel at least a little less frantic for the moment.

“I promise.”

The following day at knight practice, the afternoon air of late summer is warm and sunny but not too overbearingly so; at least not for Merlin who is sitting on the sidelines of the practice field polishing one of the many practice swords.

The warm weather tempts Merlin to shut his eyes for a moment, he had barely gotten any sleep last night. He kept running through different situations in his head trying to figure out how to solve this ridiculous spell. Once the sun had started to rise he had given in, there was really only one person he knew he could go to who would have intimate knowledge about… this subject.

“Gwaine!” Merlin calls, hastily putting back the sword he was polishing as the knights finish their training.

“Merlin!” The knight jaunts over. “How are you feeling? Everything still alright after yesterday?”

A few of the other knights slow their walking to hear the conversation.

Merlin grabs Gwaine by the arm and hisses in his ear “I need to talk to you.”

He proceeds to drag the confused knight away from the others.

Arthur watches incredulously as his manservant abandons his post to drag Sir Gwaine across the training field. They come to a stop in a large patch of shade under one of the few trees that adorn the outskirts of their training grounds.

Merlin frantically gesticulates as he speaks to an eagerly listening Gwaine.

“What’s that about?” Lancelot asks from behind him, nearly causing Arthur to jump out of his skin.

He turns to Lancelot with a fierce scowl.

“Sorry,” Lancelot smiles sheepishly, “didn’t mean to startle you.”

Arthur scoffs “You didn’t startle me.”

Lancelot tries to smother his smile but Arthur still notices and hardens his features even further.

“Right, of course, sire.” Lancelot clears his throat to cover up his laugh.

Arthur is about to speak again when he is interrupted by a boisterous laugh ringing through the air.

Both men turn back to see Gwaine doubled over in laughter with a mortified looking Merlin.

“Think it’s about yesterday?” Lancelot asks, drawing Arthur’s attention back.

“I’m not sure.” Arthur narrows his eyes at the two.

“Gwaine! It’s not funny!”

“Oh I beg to differ Merls.” Gwaine wipes tears from one of his eyes.

The knight looks up at Merlin only to start laughing again.

“Gwaine!” Merlin all but whines.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Gwaine manages to get out between gasps of air. “I didn’t even know magic like that existed!”

“Yeah well neither did I.” Merlin grumbles.

Gwaine finally manages to straighten himself up. “Well Merls, you came to the right guy.”

Merlin huffs out an exasperated breath. While Gwaine will inevitably tease him for this until the end of time, Merlin knows he was the right person to go to. Gods know he couldn't have talked to Gaius about this.

“Well, surely you have a starting point to work off of at least. So you just start there and-”

“I don’t.” Merlin interrupts before Gwaine can continue.

“No need to be shy Merls everyone has-”

“No… I have never…” Merlin waves his hand as if it’s an explanation, flush deepening on his face up to his ears.

“What?!” Gwaine shouts, “Never? At all?”

“Gwaine! Shut up! All of the lower town can hear you!” Merlin hisses.

“Alright alright sorry.” Gwaine shoots the boy a sympathetic look.

“Wait!” Gwaine beams at Merlin. “I have something that’ll help.”

Merlin lowers his hands just enough to peer at the knight.

“Merlin!” Arthur’s voice rings out from the other side of the training grounds.

“I’ll bring it by training tomorrow.” Gwaine ruffles Merlin’s hair.

The fact that Merlin has never laid with someone makes this situation much more delicate than Gwaine originally inferred. As much as Gwaine would love to help Merlin, he is an attractive lad after all, he also knows he shouldn’t be Merlin’s first. That should be with someone who means something special to him, and Gwaine has a hunch of who is special enough to the boy and more than likely will agree (getting him to admit that though, that's another issue).

“Wha-”

“MERLIN!”

Merlin rolls his eyes and Gwaine gives him a pat on the shoulder before the servant hurries over to the princess.

Merlin has a bad feeling about this.

Something is going on. Arthur isn’t sure exactly what it is, but something is off with Merlin. He’d been off all day, more clumsy tripping over nothing, and far more frazzled than normal. Not to mention whenever they came across Gwaine Merlin’s cheeks would blush a rosy red.

What on earth had those two talked about earlier that has Merlin so worked up? Surely if it was about the spell Merlin was hit with yesterday, like Lance suggested, Merlin would have told him, right? And Gaius had said he was fine, he cares too much for Merlin to let him prance about if something were wrong.

So if it’s not that, what has Merlin blushing like a maiden around the bastardly knight?

The door to his chambers flings open with no warning knock as Merlin carries his dinner tray inside.

“Your dinner, sire.” Merlin sets the tray down with a slight clang.

Arthur rolls his eyes used to his servant’s incompetence but today it’s been too much.

“Merlin, what on earth is wrong with you today?” Arthur eyes Merlin who shifts back and forth on his feet.

“What?” Merlin squeaks.

“You’ve been making mistakes all day! I know you’re usually a bumbling idiot but today it’s tenfold.” While Arthur isn’t angry per se he certainly is exasperated.

“Nothing! I’m fine! Totally fine, nothing’s wrong at all.” Merlin fidgets as he pours some wine for Arthur. “Sire.” He adds on as an afterthought.

“Merlin, you're a terrible liar.” Arthur sighs.

Merlin tries his best to come up with a reply but his mind fails him.

“So, your odd behavior has nothing to do with the spell you were hit with yesterday?” Arthur questions, watching Merlin carefully.

Merlin nearly drops the flagon of wine but steadies it on the table at the last moment.

“What? No, not at all. You heard Gaius yourself, he cleared me.”

“Perhaps the reaction is delayed?” Arthur squints his eyes as if he can see the spell.

“I feel fine Arthur, truly.” And yes technically not a lie, the spell isn’t affecting him, at least not yet. At this very moment he feels perfectly fine... physically at least, mentally he's a bit all over the place.

“Right” Arthur deadpans. “That’s why Gwaine has had you blushing like a maiden all day.” He grumbles under his breath low enough so his servant doesn’t hear.

Arthur sighs again as he cuts into his chicken, watching Merlin scuttle about the room preparing it for sleeping.

They don’t talk again for a while, Arthur watching Merlin like a hawk while the servant is clearly lost in his thoughts.

Once done eating Arthur dismisses Merlin earlier than usual.

“Rest. So you’re not as incompetent tomorrow.”

To anyone else Arthur’s jibe would seem genuine but Merlin has learned to read between the lines, he knows Arthur is worried.

“Yes, thank you, sire.” Merlin heads back to his chambers, a comforting warmth in his center.

The following morning Merlin follows behind Arthur to the training grounds. It’s another lovely day, sun shining, birds chirping, and a warm breeze swaying the grass.

Arthur had eyed him suspiciously the entire time Merlin had put him into his armor. His servant at least looked like he got some sleep, the bags that adorned his eyes yesterday nowhere to be seen.

Most of the knights are already on the field talking amongst themselves while waiting for their prince to start the training.

They approach the weapons bench where Elyan and Lancelot are talking when Gwaine nearly barrels through Arthur to get to Merlin.

“Gwaine!” Arthur reprimands.

Gwaine waves him off dismissively and Arthur scoffs at the knight.

“Merlin!” Gwaine beams at the surprised young man.

“Gwaine?”

“Here’s that book I told you about yesterday!” Gwaine says with a wink, handing Merlin a book that’s about the size of an average journal.

Elyan snorts out a laugh “Since when can Gwaine read?”

Arthur and Lancelot chuckle at the wisecrack.

“Why does Gwaine have a book you need Merlin?” Arthur can’t help but ask a bit suspiciously. As the physician's apprentice Merlin has access to all the books in the royal library. How is it Gwaine of all people has a book Merlin needs?

The confusion is clear on Merlin’s face when he accepts the book, he opens it for not even a second before he quickly slams it shut, cheeks suddenly a pretty pink.

“Thank you Gwaine” Merlin grits out between his teeth.

“Anything for you Merls” The knight winks again and ruffles his hair.

Arthur clears his throat. “I did just ask a question, you know.”

“It’s a book about herbs.” Spills out of Merlin’s mouth and he immediately regrets it.

“Right,” Gwaine says dryly, knowing this excuse isn’t going to work. “Herbs.”

They all stare at each other for a moment, Lancelot and Elyan confused and Arthur suspicious.

“Sire!” Leon calls as he trots over.

Bless that man, Merlin will have to snag the first knight some extra pies for getting the attention off him.

“We should really start practice now.”

“Right, of course,” Arthur gives Merlin a stern look that says ‘don’t think I’ll forget about this’. Then switches his attention to Gwaine. “Sir Gwaine!” Arthur says with a devious smirk “You’re with me today.”

“Merlin! Help me!” Gwaine playfully calls out as Arthur drags him to start their sparring. Elyan and Lancelot trail not far behind them.

Merlin slips the book into an inner pocket of his jacket. He doesn’t dare to look at it again during knight training.

Once training is over, Gwaine though thoroughly winded, still eagerly makes his way back to Merlin before the princess can snatch him away.

“So?” Gwaine asks expectantly “What do you think?”

“I didn’t look at it. Gods forbid someone sees what I’m reading.” Merlin says in a hushed tone. “But, I do appreciate it, I’m sure it’ll help. I just have to actually do it now.”

Gwaine pats his shoulder sympathetically but Merlin isn’t fully fooled, he can feel the mischievous air that seems to follow Gwaine around.

“As much as I’d love to help, and believe me I would. I think it’s best if you find someone who means something special to you, more than a friend I mean.”

Merlin, not quite understanding what the knight is getting at, blinks owlishly at the man.

“Merlin-” Arthur approaches but is interrupted by the man who is wearing thin on the prince’s nerves over the past two days.

“Arthur! Just the man I wanted to see!”

“Gwaine, we just spent all of training together.”

“Yes but I can never get enough of your winning personality.”

Merlin snorts and tries to cover it up with a cough, earning him a glare from the prince.

“But seriously princess I need to talk to you about something.” Gwaine’s sudden serious tone catches Arthur off guard, the knight's eyes dart to Merlin as if trying to tell the prince something.

“Alright. Merlin, I expect all your tasks to be done before dinner.”

“Yes sire.” Anything to get away from others with this book burning a hole in his jacket. Merlin scurries off quickly towards the courtyard.

The day had been rather hectic, the moment Merlin went back into the citadel it seemed as if everyone had needed his help with one thing or another, he barely had enough time to finish his own duties let alone find time to stash his newly acquired book somewhere safe.

Thankfully Arthur had been pulled away for a council meeting so he wasn’t around to pester him. Merlin had already set the prince’s dinner tray out and poured his wine in hopes of being relieved early. He knows better than to actually ask Arthur as he would hold him over late just to spite him.

With nothing else to do but wait for the royal prat to be done with council, Merlin takes up a rag and begins dusting. It isn’t long until he is interrupted by the door slamming open.

“Merlin!”

“Rough meeting?” Merlin asks, not looking up from where he is dusting.

“My father thinks he can do no wrong just because he is the king!”

Merlin stands up and brushes his pants off. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.” Arthur glowers as he sits down and violently starts cutting into his food.

“But,” the prince pauses, “I did have a rather interesting conversation with Gwaine today.”

Arthur can see the way Merlin’s shoulders tense. “Oh?”

His manservant walks over to his dresser to ready a pair of night clothes.

“Yes.” Arthur takes his time, taking a bite of his chicken and chewing it slowly, watching the way Merlin tries to not squirm under his gaze. “He tells me you figured out the spell that hit you.”

Merlin reaches into the dresser and pulls out a pair of Arthur’s white sleeping trousers.

“Yes. I did.” He is clearly doing his best to not look at Arthur.

“And?” Arthur asks expectantly.

“And what?” Merlin gives the prince his best innocent face.

“And what is it? You dolt.”

Merlin pauses and scans the room for a way of escaping this conversation.

“Merlin. Don’t try to get out of this. Gwaine specifically said that you need help.”

What Gwaine had actually said was that Merlin needed Arthur’s help specifically, but that he shouldn’t tell Merlin that Gwaine had said that. As strange and vague as it was, Arthur listened, he knows Gwaine wouldn’t mess around about Merlin’s well being.

Merlin guffaws at his statement.

Arthur sighs and takes a sip of his wine. “Come here Merlin.”

His shoulders slump in defeat as he walks over to the table.

“Sit.”

“You could at least say please.” Merlin rolls his eyes but still sits down across Arthur.

The prince smirks, “Is that another one of your made up words?”

Merlin has to fight down a smile, “Prat.”

Arthur slides over a goblet of wine to his servant. As a prince Arthur should never eat or drink with his servants but Merlin has always been an exception, to quite a few things.

“I’m not letting you leave this room until you tell me what the spell is.”

Merlin eyes the goblet of wine before downing the entire thing, much to Arthur’s surprise.

“So, Gwaine really didn’t tell you what it is?”

“No, he said it wasn’t his place to tell me.”

Merlin pours himself some more wine and downs half of the contents this time.

Arthur sighs. “Merlin, you know you can trust me right?”

Something flashes across his servant's face so quickly Arthur doesn’t have time to decipher it.

“Of course Arthur, I trust you with my life.” Merlin unfalteringly declares.

His tone of such raw sincerity makes Arthur’s insides melt a bit as they always do when Merlin shows such loyalty. “So you can trust me with what’s going on now then.”

Merlin grumbles something that Arthur can’t hear.

“What did you say?”

“I said,” Merlin says much too loudly now, “it’s too embarrassing.”

“Merlin. I am not going to let you leave this room until you tell me, so just make this easier for both of us.”

“Since when do I make your life easier?” Merlin grins.

“Right, heaven forbid my servant makes my life easier.” Arthur rolls his eyes.

Arthur waits for Merlin to speak up again but he stubbornly stares into his half full goblet of wine now, or perhaps it’s half empty.

“Merlin.”

“Fine.” Merlin groans out before finishing off the rest of his goblet and slamming it down. “But you can’t laugh.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Arthur.”

“Fine, fine. I won’t laugh.”

There’s a long moment of silence between them, Merlin fidgets around thinking over his words but Arthur’s patience is already wearing thin from his council meeting.

“Merlin!”

“It’s a sexual spell!” Merlin blurts out.

Arthur’s brain refuses to understand that sentence. “What?”

“It’s- oh god.” Merlin covers his face which is now flushed red with embarrassment. “It’s a spell that will cause me pain until I discover and partake in all my… kinks.” He whispers the last word.

There’s another moment of long silence while Arthur processes this information. “What? What the hell kind of spell is that!?” Arthur’s voice comes out an octave higher than normal.

“How should I know!?”

“Why would some sorceress try to hit me with such a spell?!”

“Probably to kill you from embarrassment because I can assure you that’s what’s happening to me right now.” Merlin groans. Though truthfully he knows it was most likely an attempt to seduce the prince once the spell kicked in.

“Well I mean,” Arthur can feel his own face heating up. “Surely you must already know some.” Images of Merlin bound and gagged flash through Arthur’s mind. It’s the prince’s turn to finish off his goblet of wine.

“Gods Arthur I’ve never even-” Merlin gives Arthur a desperate look, trying to get this conversation over with as fast as possible. Heavens know talking about sexual acts with the man he’s been attracted to for ages, who is also his best friend, cannot have a good outcome for his psyche.

Arthur chokes on his wine, “You’ve never…? With anyone?”

It had never occurred to him that Merlin may still have his virtue intact. He’s an attractive young man, and he has a phenomenal personality, not that Arthur would ever say such things out loud. How on earth has no one snatched him up yet? The thought causes a wave of unpleasant emotions to shoot through him.

“No.” Merlin groans and refills both of their goblets with more wine.

Merlin knows he should take it easy on the alcohol, he’s never been a very good drinker but it’s the only way he can have this conversation without imploding from embarrassment.

“Well,” Arthur takes a sip of his wine, “It can’t be that hard to find a girl who is willing.” The unpleasant emotions going through him pool in Arthur’s stomach.

Merlin mumbles something again too quiet for him to hear.

“What?”

“I don’t fancy girls.” Merlin mumbles out louder, starting to feel the effects of wine, its making his limbs tingle. Might as well get everything out in the open as he’s fairly certain he’ll be dead by the morning from mortification. Sorry druids, your all mighty Emrys, greatest sorcerer to ever exist has died from embarrassment.

“Oh.” The shock is clear on Arthur’s face, he doesn't know what to say. He supposes it makes sense then why Merlin hasn’t laid with anyone. Not that there weren’t other men who fancy the same gender, he’s seen more than his fair share of knights who take pleasure from other men. Hell, Arthur can even appreciate a handsome man, not that he could ever let his father find that out, but he had tupped one or two stable boys in his earlier years.

There’s silence for a moment as Merlin wallows in his thoughts.

Arthur breaks the stillness as the pieces start to click into place, “That book Gwaine gave you wasn't about herbs, was it?”

Merlin laughs brightly, the effects of the wine clearly taking their effect on the slim lad, “No, definitely not about herbs.”

“Then what was it?” Arthur asks, feeling a bit more loose lipped from drinking so quickly.

“See for yourself.” Merlin reaches into his jacket and slides the book across the table, nearly knocking over the flagon of wine.

Arthur opens to one of the pages, there is a title that reads ‘Breath Play.’

There’s a drawing, surprisingly of a man, with a pair of hands wrapped around his neck as if he’s being choked. There’s a brief description of the act.

‘Breath play is the act of constricting ones airway,
usually done by choking from hands. Be careful not
to damage the airway or constrict for too long.
Some may prefer a simple pressure on the outer neck
rather than the airway. ’

Looking at the image Arthur can’t help but picture Merlin’s slim neck with his hands around him. The fact that Arthur rarely gets to see Merlin’s neck, thanks to his neckerchiefs, makes such an idea all the more scandalous.

Arthur flicks his gaze up to Merlin, who is leaning over the table to see the book as well, his eyes hazed with wine.

Arthur flips to another page.

This one has a much more graphic drawing, it’s of a woman bent over baring herself to the viewer as a man behind her reels back his hand as if to hit her. The title reads ‘Spanking’

‘The action of smacking, typically done on the arse
or upper thighs. Inflicts pleasant pain to the receiver,
can also be used as a ‘punishment’.’

More images of Merlin flash through Arthur’s mind, earning a twitch of his cock, but he does his best to shake them away. Arthur clears his throat and closes the book.

“Of course this is the type of book Gwaine owns.”

Merlin freely laughs at that, giving Arthur all too familiar butterflies in his stomach, they seem amplified due to the alcohol in his system.

“So, what’s the exact spell? Surely there must be more to it.”

Merlin sighs, “Basically I need to partake in all of my… interests, and then the spell will dissipate. The book said the target’s eyes will flash pink each time one of their interests is discovered.”

“That’s it?”

“When is it ever that easy Arthur?” Merlin grouses before taking another sip of his wine “If the target goes too long without discovering and partaking in an interest they will experience a steady increase of pain.”

“Well, do you feel any pain yet?”

“No, none at all.”

Arthur can’t tell if Merlin’s flush is from the alcohol or embarrassment, probably both he muses as he swirls his goblet, ignoring the rest of his dinner.

“So, who’s going to assist you then, with this?” Arthur tries his best to come off as impassive.

“Well, I was considering asking Gwaine but-”

“No.” Arthur cuts in a little too firmly.

“What?”

“W-well” Arthur stammers for a moment, “Gwaine is too, promiscuous”

“I suppose I could try asking Lancelot.” Merlin looks around the room avoiding his eyes once again.

“Well, you should do this with someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“And you do?” Merlin asks without thinking.

The air freezes.

“I- I mean from the way you said tha-” Merlin sputters, face darkening a shade of red.

“Well,” Arthur interrupts, “Only Gwaine and I know about the spell right? The less people know the better, for your sake I mean.”

Merlin’s jaw hangs open as he stares disbelievingly at the prince.

“You’d do that for me?”

“Well, better me than Gwaine.” It’s Arthur’s turn to avoid eye contact now, “plus, you took the spell for me, it only seems fair. If it wasn’t you going through this it would be me.”

“Arthur,” Merlin bites his bottom lip, drawing Arthur's attention, “I don't want you to feel like you have to do this out of a sense of duty. I don't want to use you like that.”

“No I- I don’t mind, really.” Arthur’s sure he can only say such a thing thanks to the alcohol in his system. “Plus if it was the other way around I know you’d do the same, you and your righteous loyalty.”

Merlin wants to argue that it’s different, he’d be more than willing to do that for Arthur, spell or not, but it’s not like he can exactly tell him that.

“I suppose you're right.” Merlin flushes again, he doesn’t think about it too much in fear of getting his hopes up.

Arthur clears his throat before speaking again, “We’ll start off with small things, then work our way up?”

“Yeah that sounds- that’s a good idea.”

“Alright.” A warm feeling settles into Arthur’s sternum. “If you start to feel any pain at all come to me immediately, and we’ll,” He pauses, unsure of how to word the end of the sentence but Merlin seems to get the gist anyway.

“Yes, okay.” Merlin squirms a bit in his chair.

“You’re dismissed for the evening.” Arthur nods to the door.

“But you’re not dressed.”

“Believe it or not I can dress myself Merlin.”

“You’re right, I don’t believe it.”

Arthur picks up his spoon to fling it at Merlin but he’s already scampering to the door.

“Arthur,” Merlin pauses as he reaches the door, voice sincere. “Thank you.”

He takes his leave before Arthur can say anything.

The prince takes a deep breath and slumps in his chair. Sure, go ahead and explore your manservant’s kinks together. Surely sleeping together won't give him more of those thoughts he tries to ignore whenever they pop into his head. It couldn’t be helped though, Merlin is, well handsome doesn’t seem like the right word, he is too soft to be handsome, pretty? And when he bends over doing his chores Arthur can’t help but to look- No, he absolutely doesn’t feel anything towards Merlin… okay, maybe that’s not true, he’s fond of the boy but that’s it. He absolutely has never thought about Merlin in the late hours of the night while he lays in bed and touches ~ahem~ no that’s ridiculous.

He finishes off his wine. The idea of someone else helping Merlin with this though, Arthur wouldn’t be able to take it, especially now, being aware of exactly what the two would be doing.

He goes to stand up when he sees Merlin left the book on the table.

Well, might as well get a head start. He dresses for bed taking the book with him.

The next day started surprisingly normal, Merlin woke him up in this same annoying manner as always, any lingering awkwardness from last night's conversation long gone. Then during training, every time Gwaine tried to talk to Merlin, Arthur would drag his manservant away, not completely irregular for the prince.

Unfortunately for Merlin, today's council meeting wasn’t deemed ‘sensitive’ so he was to attend, standing behind his master the whole time.

They are only about half an hour in when Merlin first feels it, a faint throbbing in his lower stomach. As the council continues the sensation grows stronger, slowly becoming more painful until it feels as if he has a burning dagger twisting into his abdomen.

The council isn’t adjourned for another four candle marks where Merlin has to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. If he wasn’t so accustomed to pain surely he wouldn’t have been able to remain standing.

Once the meeting is finished Arthur turns to him but pauses at the pallor of his skin.

“Are you alright?” The shuffling of council members can be heard leaving the room

“Fine, sire.” Merlin gives his best smile.

Arthur squints his eyes.

“I’ll fetch your dinner and bring it to your chambers for you.”

“Very well.” Arthur dismisses him with a wave of his hand.

Arthur is sitting at his table looking over a document when Merlin arrives, dinner plate in his hand.

“You can place it down here,” Arthur says picking up his document, not looking up at his servant.

Merlin doesn't say anything as he serves the tray.

Arthur starts rolling up the parchment when there’s a clatter to his left.

Knight’s instincts kicking in, he immediately shoots up from his chair only to see Merlin doubled over on the floor with an empty wine flagon rocking on the ground.

“Merlin!” He rushes over kneeling next to his manservant.

Merlin groans out, arms around his stomach, bringing his knees to his chest.

“Merlin! What’s wrong?”

“Pain.” He manages to grunt out.

“Do you need Gaius?” Arthur asks as he scans his body for outward injuries.

“No,” Merlin grits out. “The spell, dollophead.”

“Oh… Oh.”

Merlin wheezes out what sounds somewhat reminiscent of a laugh.

“Okay,” Arthur says steeling his nerves, “I’m going to kiss you, alright?”

Merlin’s eyes go wide but he nods.

It’s just like kissing anyone else, Arthur thinks to himself. Except it’s not. It’s Merlin, oh god what has he gotten himself into?

Arthur takes a steadying breath and leans down nearly all the way to the floor where Arthur can feel the heat radiating off of his servant. Merlin’s eyes follow his until their mouths meet and they both close their eyes. Merlin’s lips are so plush, much softer than he’d imagined.

They are both still for a moment until Merlin hesitantly moves his mouth against Arthur’s, who is quick to reciprocate. They are shallow kisses but still send sparks of lightning through Arthur. It seems to be working as Merlin starts to unfold himself and rise to his knees. They don’t break their kissing until they’re both kneeling.

Arthur pulls back, face warm. “Did it work? I didn’t see your eyes flash pink. But my eyes were closed.”

Merlin pauses for a moment, focusing on the feeling. “It’s not as strong as it was.” He pauses again, waiting to see if anything happens. “I can still feel it but it’s bearable now, maybe we only have to-”

Arthur watches as his face contorts in pain and Merlin lets out the slightest whimper.

“Okay! Okay! Going to kiss you again.” Arthur states, not waiting for a reply before grabbing his manservant by the hips and pulling him into another kiss, more desperate this time.

Merlin relaxes again once their lips meet and Arthur runs his tongue over Merlin’s bottom lip.
The servant gasps at the sensation and Arthur uses that moment to slide his tongue into Merlin's mouth.

His servant tastes slightly like mint, his mouth is hot against Arthur's own.

Merlin makes a sound in the back of his throat that sends conflicting shockwaves through Arthur. The prince tightens his grip on Merlin’s hips and pulls his manservant onto his lap, just far enough away so his servant can’t feel his semi-hard on that he himself refuses to acknowledge. He is not turned on just from a little kissing with Merlin.

Merlin takes a sharp inhale into his nose as he settles on Arthur’s lap. The throbbing is still there but not nearly as bad as before, if anything his racing thoughts are currently his biggest issue. That, and trying to fight down his erection as Arthur explores his mouth with his tongue.

Their movements become more confident and rougher as Merlin reciprocates Arthur’s initiative, sliding his own tongue against Arthur’s experimentally. They’re both breathing harder, nearly panting now as Merlin fights the urge to grind forward into Arthur’s lap.

Merlin cracks his eyes open only to see Arthur already watching him, eyes hooded.

Feeling emboldened Merlin encircles his lips on Arthur’s tongue giving it an experimental suck.

The feeling singes all the way down to Arthur’s cock and he groans in response. Arthur cups his hand at the back of Merlin’s neck drawing him closer, causing Merlin to sigh out in pleasure.

Arthur runs his hand from his servant's neck through his hair, tugging the black tresses roughly. Arthur pulls him back just far enough so their lips are brushing against each other, allowing him to admire Merlin’s flushed face.

The action has embers of pleasure sizzling in Merlin’s stomach and a small moan escapes his mouth for Arthur to drink in. Arthur can see a flash of pink in Merlin’s lidded eyes and can’t help but smile smugly.

They separate quickly as Merlin pulls away scrambling off Arthur’s lap. Merlin thumps onto his arse on the cool cobblestone, eyes wide, face flush, hair mussed, and panting. Arthur leans back onto his hands, taking in Merlin’s state with a guttural sense of satisfaction in his chest. They stare at each other, taking the other in before Merlin breaks the moment clearing his throat, adamantly looking away. “Thank you.” His voice comes out hoarser than expected.

Arthur clears his throat before standing up. “Better?” He scans Merlin for any signs of pain.

Merlin nods, not willing to trust his voice again yet.

“Good, that’s good.” Arthur stands awkwardly in the center of his room, unsure of what to do now. It’s Merlin’s shuffling that gets him to move again.

Arthur offers his hand out to Merlin. Merlin stares at his hand for a moment, his eyes flicker to Arthur’s and back to his hand before taking it. Arthur pulls his hand hauling Merlin to his feet. Using the strength he normally does to help up a down knight at practice, who is typically wearing mail, he pulls too forcefully causing Merlin to yelp as he collides into the prince's chest.

“God Merlin you’re a twig.” Arthur’s eyes are wide. While Merlin has put on some weight since he first arrived to Camelot, Arthur often forgets just how thin he still is given his large personality makes him seem far loftier.

“We don’t all get extra padding from the royal kitchens every day.” Merlin teases, amusement clear in his eyes.

Arthur takes an affronted step back “Merlin, are you calling me fat?”

“No, of course not sire.” Merlin ducks down grabbing the flagon he had dropped on the floor earlier. Arthur follows the motion as Merlin bends at the waist giving the prince quite a delectable view.

Merlin stands back up “Well then, time for your dinner sire. Need to maintain that extra padding after all.”

“Merlin!”

Merlin is relieved that they are able to keep a semblance of normalcy even after he was just on the prince’s lap snogging the royal prat.

The rest of the evening goes by just the same, though perhaps there’s a few extra blushes and hidden smiles between them as Merlin goes about his chores and Arthur finishes his dinner.

It’s late by this point, Arthur having gone over some more documents at his desk. Merlin adds a log to the hearth as Arthur stretches his arms above his head.

Arthur watches lazily as Merlin pokes at the fire. The light flickers across his features in a way Arthur has always found captivating. Merlin is a rather cool toned person with his pale skin, dark hair, and blue eyes, completely the opposite of his sunny personality. The flickering of flames always lights Merlin’s features in a way that matches his warm demeanor.

Merlin turns before Arthur can act like he wasn't just staring at his manservant.

“What?” Merlin raises an eyebrow.

“Earlier,” Arthur pauses, thinking of how to continue this sentence. “The pain started at dinner time. So that’s almost three total days since you were hit by-“

“Actually,” Merlin bites his bottom lip, a tell Arthur has learned to mean he’s nervous. “It started during the council meeting.”

“What? Merlin, why did you tell me earlier?” Arthur stands up, his chair scrapes against the cobblestone.

“What was I supposed to say?” Merlin sasses, “Attention King Uther and esteemed council members I must take my leave with your prince so we can go fornicate.”

“Wha- We didn’t-” Arthur can feel his face heat up.

“Or what ‘bout sorry Uther your son and I have a pressing matter to attend to, we have to go snog up in his chambers now, it’s much more important than matters of the state.”

“Merlin!”

Merlin pouts and stomps his way over to turn down Arthur’s bed, in a way that Arthur does not find endearing at all.

“Just,” Arthur sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Just give me some kind of sign next time at least, like touch my shoulder or something.”

“It’s not like you can just leave in the middle of a council meeting anyways.”

“I’m sure I can think of some excuse.”

“You? Thinking?” Arthur can’t see Merlin’s face from where he is turning down the bed but can hear his smile.

Arthur walks up and gives him a playful smack to the back of his head.

“Oi!”

Arthur snorts at Merlin's petty glare. “Oh just undress me you tart.”

If Merlin had not been undressing Arthur for such a long time he surely would have blushed, especially given what they did earlier, but dressing the prat was just another duty, one of his favorites, but still, he’s a professional.

“Will there be anything else, sire?” Merlin lingers as Arthur settles into his bed.

“That will be all Merlin.”

Merlin extinguishes the candles on his way to the door.

“Thank you, Arthur.” Merlin says before he slips out the door.

It’s two days later when Merlin feels the throbbing start again.

He is serving Arthur at dinner with Uther and Morgana. Unlike last time the pain is increasing rather quickly.

Uther and Arthur had been talking about Arthur’s plan to go on a hunt soon with the knights for a bonding exercise. Not wanting to catch the king's attention Merlin waits for the conversation to shift to Morgana.

Merlin goes to refill Arthur’s goblet, he places his hand on the prince's shoulder and gives a small squeeze.

Arthur looks over to him confused.

“Isn’t that strange Arthur?” Uther asks, turning his attention back to his son.

“Yes,” Arthur turns away from Merlin. “Perhaps we should send a patrol out to investigate.”

Merlin isn’t sure how long it takes for Uther to turn back to Morgana but it’s frustratingly long. Gwen shoots him worried looks every so often from behind Morgana and he does his best to send reassuring smiles back, though he doubts he’s successful.

The second Uther turns away Merlin grips Arthur's shoulder again, much harder this time.

Arthur looks back, scowl starting to form but realization quickly falls over his face. He swiftly looks to the other two royals to make sure they aren’t paying attention.

Arthur smacks the flagon out of Merlin's hands, hitting it at the bottom causing the wine to spill out onto the table and the floor, a small splatter making its way onto Arthur’s tunic.

Everyone turns to Merlin whose eyes are wide with shock, staring at Arthur.

“Boy!” Uther bellows but Arthur is quick to speak up.

“Merlin! What is wrong with you!” Arthur shouts startling his servant, “This is the last straw! I have dealt with enough of your incompetence!”

Merlin has his refute on the tip of his tongue. He knows he shouldn’t argue, not in front of the King, but screw that this was all the prat’s fault! Arthur had hit the wine right out of his damn hands! The anger nearly floods out the increasing pain in his abdomen.

Arthur turns so only Merlin can see his face and tries his hardest to wink, but the prince has never been able to wink, so he blinks, squishing his facial muscles in a rather unflattering manner.

Merlin’s anger dies down into an annoyed confusion at what the hell is wrong with Arthur? Maybe he’s having a stroke, muscle spasms and facial contortions are symptoms, Merlin has since learned from being the physician's apprentice. But Arthur’s speech is just fine, no slurring or anything of the sort. Perhaps-

Merlin’s thoughts are cut short by Arthur grabbing him roughly by the bicep.

“Not to worry father, I shall make sure my manservant is duly punished.”

Uther gives an approving nod whereas Morgana is glaring daggers at him, Gwen watches on twitching panickly.

“Come on Merlin.” Arthur sneers and drags him out by the arm.

Merlin tries to argue once they’re out of the dining hall but Arthur gives him a look that Merlin knows better than to argue with.

Arthur wrenches the door to his chambers open, practically tossing Merlin inside.

“What the hell Arthur?!” Merlin shouts.

The prince closes the door gently, making sure to slide the lock into place. He turns around to see Merlin seething with anger. The prince traces his manservant’s body with his eyes, deciding how to exactly go about this. Logically it makes sense to just start at the beginning of the book and work their way through each kink. But then again what if Merlin doesn’t have one of those kinks? It’d be a waste of time, right? They really should have talked about this more but there isn't time for that right now. The longer it takes the longer Merlin is in pain.

Merlin’s heaving chest and angry flush are not helping Arthur focus either.

Moving deliberately slow, Arthur makes his way over to his dining chair, pulling it out from the table and turning it towards the center of the room. He’d rather use one of his plush chairs for this but they both have arms on the side.

Merlin watches disbelievingly. “Arthur?” Perhaps he really is suffering from some sort of ailment.

Arthur rolls his eyes, “You said you needed help, right?” Arthur traces his body again, crossing his legs. “With the spell,” He clarifies. He can see the anger drain from Merlin as it turns into apprehension.

Merlin nods fully aware of the pain steadily growing in his stomach, not as bad as the first time but quickly getting closer.

“Come here then.” Arthur says softer than expected.

Merlin walks over in front of the prince, wringing his hands nervously.

Arthur takes this moment to appreciate Merlin’s unique beauty. Eyes slowly dragging down his body, causing Merlin to squirm.

“Take your jacket off.” Arthur says as casually as if talking about the weather.

Arthur watches as Merlin’s cheeks flush a pretty pink, apprehension still clear in his eyes as he slides off his jacket dropping it to the floor. He’s nervous not knowing what to expect but he trusts Arthur.

“I’m fairly certain you’ll like this.” Arthur states, trying to reassure his friend. “Since you liked getting your hair pulled.” A Smirk dances across Arthur's lips as Merlin flushes deeper.

“You’re going to bend over my lap.” Arthur states as Merlin listens with rapt attention “And I’ll give you fifteen lashes, with my hand, for your incompetence during dinner.”

Arthur can see the anger spark back into Merlin’s stance. “Arthur! You hit the damn thing out of my hands! That was in no way my fault and you know that!”

“Alright, twenty lashes then.” Arthur says in his ‘royal voice’ as if doling out a punishment in court.

Merlin’s eyes are alight with defiance, he goes to open his mouth but before anything escapes he snaps it shut, jaw set rebelliously. Merlin knows that if he argues Arthur will just add on to his punishment. While this does seem rather degrading, he can’t say that his curiosity isn’t piqued.

“Chop chop.” Arthur calls, uncrossing his legs and patting his lap.

Merlin flushes darker, up to the tips of his ears. He looks to Arthur and then to his lap then lands back on Arthur’s face.

Arthur smiles obnoxiously bright at him.

Merlin rolls his eyes, doing his best to make it look like this isn’t already affecting him. He always stands up to Arthur, giving him a run for his gold with his insolence. But the urge to give in and follow orders sets a small simmer in his stomach. He sucks in a harsh breath as another stab of pain erupts in his stomach.

Once the wave of pain ebbs slightly he totters over to Arthur’s right side before draping himself over the prince’s lap, Arthur leading him down with a gentle hand on the small of his back.

The prince hums approvingly as Merlin settles his stomach on his thighs, the chair just tall enough that Merlin's knees can’t rest on the floor. They sit in the silence for a moment, Arthur rubbing small circles on his lower back.

“We need a word.” Arthur’s voice comes out huskily.

“What?” Merlin’s voice bounces off the floor.

“A word that when either of us says, we stop, no matter what.”

Merlin squirms a bit on his lap, still looking downwards. “Can’t we just say stop?”

“Well, you might say stop but not actually mean it.” Arthur runs his hand lower, just above the start of his arse, making Merlin’s heart stutter.

“What? Why woul-“

“We’ll talk about it more after.” Arthur puts more pressure into his hand, pressing Merlin harder into his lap.

“O-okay.”

“What’s a word that you think we’ll never use during… these times.” Arthur isn’t sure what exactly to call this.

There’s a moment of silence before Merlin speaks again. “Orange?”

Arthur snorts. “Perfect.” He slowly runs his hand up and down Merlin’s spine. Merlin does his best not to shiver. “If something happens and you have to stop you use that word, alright?”

Merlin is about to reply when Arthur’s hand travels further down to his clothed arse, running down to his upper thigh where he gives a slight squeeze.

Merlin nearly chokes from taking a sharp inhale, much to Arthur's amusement.

“This okay?” Arthur asks voice low and gravelly as he grips a globe of Merlin’s arse.

“Y-yeah.” Merlin can practically feel the warmth of his face radiating off the floor below him.

Arthur takes his time feeling and gripping, while Merlin doesn’t mind; he doesn't want to get hard when his dick is pressed right up against Arthur’s leg.

Arthur sighs pleasantly as he moves his hand away, much to the confusion of Merlin.

The servant feels a hand in his hair that quickly tugs to the side, forcing him to look at Arthur. “Look at me,” Arthur’s eyes run over his face, taking in Merlin's flushed cheeks and ovbiously bitten lips, “I need to see your eyes.”

Merlin doesn't trust his voice so he merely nods.

“Count.” Arthur states before letting go of his manservant’s hair only to bring his hand down harshly onto his arse, smack resonating through the room.

Merlin gasps, his eyes go wide with shock, flashing a brilliant pink much to Arthur's delight.

The contact stings even through his trousers, sending tingling like that of nettles through his body. He can see the pink light reflect off of Arthur’s smug face.

The throbbing in his stomach fades. Well, that was far easier than Merlin anticipated. He goes to stand up but Arthur pushes him back down into position.

“Ah, ah.” Arthur chastises. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“But it worked-”

“This is a punishment Merlin. I believe I said twenty.” Arthur brings his hand down in a harder smack this time.

Merlin tenses at the unexpected contact, face falling towards the floor in an attempt to hide his darkening cheeks. Arthur grips his hair again, nearly pulling him off his lap this time. “I don’t hear counting.” Arthur’s voice rumbles, eyes swirling with a baleful eagerness.

Merlin's wide eyes and flushed face do things to Arthur he’d rather try to ignore but god he looks so delectable, draped across his lap, presented to him like an offering.

“Two.” Merlin says, voice shaking only slightly, locking eyes with Arthur.

Merlin thought once they found a kink they would just stop and wait for the pain to happen again. He had never thought Arthur would want to keep going. Not that Merlin wants to complain, he just doesn’t know if he can keep his heart in check. He knows Arthur is just helping a friend and Merlin has to stop himself from thinking of it as more, no matter how much he wishes it.

The prince lets go of his hair, letting Merlin’s face fall towards the floor once again.

The next two hits are in rapid succession and to Arthur’s satisfaction Merlin counts both of them.

“Three. Four.” His voice comes out shakier than before.

Arthur smacks the other side of his arse this time, the harshest blow so far.

“Five.” Merlin grits out, tense in his lap.

Arthur can feel his own body temperature rising with his desire, having Merlin displayed like this, taking his punishment with none of his normal disobedience. Arthur has to fight down his own groan of pleasure that bubbles up in his chest.

Arthur brings his hand down again with another two rapid successions.

Merlin tries to muffle his moans, he presses his face into Arthur's calf, trying to will away his arousal, but with each hit he feels the sting shudder through his body, slowly filling out his cock.

“S-six.” His voice is muffled against Arthur's calf as he squirms trying to hide the bulge growing in his breeches.

Changing his angle Arthur’s palm claps the top of Merlin’s thigh.

Merlin hisses at the pain through his teeth.

“I’ve waited so long to do this.” Arthur breathes out gruffly, head fuzzy with desire. “Always talking back and disrespecting me. It’s time I get to put you in your place.”

Arthur brings down his hand once again to the side he had started on. Merlin lurches forward at the contact, biting his lip so hard it nearly bleeds.

“Count.” Arthur growls, grabbing his servant's arse, kneading the sore skin in his hand.

A moan escapes Merlin’s mouth, low and breathy, much to his mortification and he’s fairly certain Arthur can feel his erection on his leg now. But gods he doesn't want this to stop, it feels so good. His head is swirling with a delightfully light feeling, almost like he’s floating.

Arthur chuckles and Merlin swears he can feel it reverberate through his entire body. Merlin pushes his hips down against Arthur's lap, trying to get more friction against his straining cock. He is flooded with hot shame as he tries to rut against his best friend's leg but he can’t fight against the needy floaty feeling anymore.

“Oh, Merlin,” Arthur purrs out as he gropes his servant's arse, fingers kneading into his crevice, “I knew you’d like this, you like it when it hurts hmm?” Arthur’s voice is a mix between smug and lustful.

Arthur slides Merlin up further on his lap so his servant's side is brushing against his own erection. Merlin gasps at the feeling and Arthur relishes the much needed contact.

All Merlin’s embarrassment vanishes, washed away by a heady want. Merlin leans into Arthur’s abdomen putting pressure on Arthur’s erection that is now poking into his ribs.

Arthur muffles a groan and brings his hand down again, to the center of Merlin’s arse.

“Nng.” Merlin jerks forward at the unexpected hit.

“I don't hear counting.” Arthur’s voice dips even lower.

“Nine.” Merlin's voice comes out breathy.

The next smacks are a blur to Merlin, though he makes sure to count aloud, most hit his arse but some are focused on his thighs.

It’s at fifteen when he stops trying to fight off his moans, the pain is both sharp and throbbing. He moans out wanton, pressing his face into Arthur’s calf again.

“See if you didn’t argue we’d be done now.” Arthur coos before smacking down, making sure to put power into his motion.

Merlin cries out and hitches forward trying to get away from the pain.

“S-sixteen.”

“I should double it for all your insolence I’ve had to put up with.”

Smack.

“Arthur!”

Arthur can’t help but groan, his name has never sounded so divine before, needy and broken on the lips of Merlin; it’s the only way he ever wants to hear his name again.

“Merlin.” Arthur growls, having to stop himself from canting his hips into his servant’s side.

“Seventeen.” It’s nearly a whisper between their panting breaths.

Smack.

“Ahng,” Merlin whines. “Eighteen.”

“Two more.” Arthur takes a deep breath, the room is overtly warm at this point.

Smack.

“Nineteen!” Merlin cries out.

Arthur runs his hand over the abused globes, surely bright red underneath Merlin’s clothing.

“P-please Arthur.” Merlin whimpers out and who is Arthur to deny such a lovely request?

He brings his hand down for the last time, making sure to splay his fingers as wide as possible.

Merlin jerks forward again with a beautifully broken cry.

They sit there for a moment, the sound of their panting filling the air. Arthur takes a deep breath in attempt to calm his arousal but with Merlin still splayed on his lap, hard-on poking into his leg, he doubts he’ll ever be able to not be turned on again.

Merlin stirs, shifting off his lap and slowly standing up. He’s looking away, as he goes to make a step towards the door. “Thank-”

The prince reaches out and grabs Merlin by the wrist.

Merlin turns to him, surprise and confusion on his flushed face. His eyes are a bit shiny, probably due to the pain, but, there’s something else on his face that ignites a flame in Arthur. He looks at the prince expectantly, waiting for more.

Arthur’s sure Merlin can read the same on his face. Arthur huffs a breath in amusement and pulls his manservant back towards him.

“Arthur?” Merlin questions, voice worn from the sounds he’s been making.

“You think you’re going to walk around the castle like that?” Arthur eyes the tent of Merlin’s trousers, damp with spots of precum.

The servant blushes and tries to turn away for propriety, Arthur doesn't let him though. The prince separates his knees and pulls Merlin between his legs. “It’s alright.” Arthur glances down at his own tented breeches.

Arthur is not going to let Merlin pretend like that did not just happen between them.

Merlin follows his gaze and stares down at Arthur’s erection for a moment too long before flicking his eyes back up to Arthur’s, his brows pinched in uncertainty.

Arthur pulls Merlin back into his lap, this time having Merlin straddle him. Merlin follows easily, eyes flicking over Arthur’s face trying to read the prince’s expression.

Arthur smiles wolfishly as he gently grasps the back of Merlin's neck, drawing his servant’s chest to his. He can feel Merlin’s hot breaths on his lips. “Let me help you,” Arthur purrs out. There’s a moment of hesitation before Merlin leans forward meeting Arthur in a searing kiss.

Arthur groans into the kiss, hands going to Merlin’s hips. Merlin wraps his arms around Arthur’s neck and rolls his hips forward.

They both groan at the feeling of their stiffened cocks rubbing against each other.

“Fuck.” Arthur breathes into Merlin's mouth and tightens his grip on his servant's hips.

Merlin grinds down harder and more deliberately. Panting, Arthur tosses his head back.

Merlin tries to burn this image of Arthur into his mind, head thrown back, watching him through lidded eyes, neck exposed, tendons taught, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

Merlin cants his hips forward again, keening at the friction. Arthur’s hands guide him to a slow yet harsh rhythm but Merlin can already feel the tight heat simmer in his stomach.

Merlin moans high and wanton, ducking his face into the crook of Arthur’s neck.

“Fuck.” Arthur breathes out as he lifts his hips to meet Merlins.

“A-Arthur.” Merlin cries as he presses as close as he can, all his muscles tensing.

Merlin’s arms tighten around Arthur as the prince tugs at his hips harshly. Arthur’s breath catches as Merlin cries out his name. He can feel his manservant’s prick twitching against his own as Merlin cums in his breeches, he can feel the heat of Merlin’s spend against his own cock.

“Fuck, Merlin.” Arthur releases the boy's hips and cards one hand through his raven hair as Merlin goes lax against his chest.

Arthur brings his other hand between them and down his own trousers, it only takes a few strokes before he follows Merlin, hot cum spurting over his hand and smearing against his smalls.

Merlin gives a delayed closed mouth moan, watching as Arthur cums against him, milking himself dry.

Arthur chuckles airily at Merlin’s sound.

“Hmm?” Merlin hums into his neck.

You’re cute. Is what Arthur wants to say, but instead, he says “Just, ridiculous.”

He doesn't mean it in a negative light and thankfully Merlin knows him well enough.

His manservant snorts in agreement. Arthur cards his hand through Merlin’s hair as they both sit there coming down from their highs.

It takes a couple of minutes but the reality of the situation slowly creeps up on Merlin. He had just gotten off against his best friend. Not only that but so did Arthur. He hadn’t even known Arthur liked men. Maybe he doesn't though, maybe such stimulation just riled him up. Perhaps this was one of Arthur’s kinks, maybe that’s why he got hard, perhaps he likes hitting people. That would make sense, with all the times he’s thrown objects at him or slapped him upside the head.

The idea of sharing the same interest with Arthur sends tingles through his limbs. Perhaps through this spell Merlin will be able to learn what the prince likes too. There was still the issue of whether Arthur even liked men though, but surely with what they just did he can’t be turned off by them, right?

“Merlin. You’re thinking too loudly.” Arthur groans from below him.

“Sorry.” Merlin mumbles into the prince’s neck not wanting to pull away yet.

“Relax,” Arthur sighs, curling his fingers through Merlin’s hair. “It’s fine, the whole point of this is to experiment to find what gets you going, to do that and then just not finish… seems kind of cruel.”

“Right.” Merlin draws out, still unsure of where Arthur’s feelings on the situation lie.

They sit there in silence for a while longer until it turns slightly awkward. Arthur clears his throat. “Not that I mind staying like this, but we should clean off.”

“Right.” Merlin peels himself off of Arthur, both avoiding eye contact.

Arthur grabs a cloth and brings it to the basin of water next to his bed and wets it.

“Here.” Arthur tosses the cloth to Merlin.

The washcloth splats onto Merlin’s chest, leaving a wet splotch in the center of his tunic.

“Thanks.” The servant deadpans.

Arthur wets another cloth and as he is about to clean himself off Merlin turns around to do the same.

They toss the soiled fabrics into the laundry for Merlin to take down to the laundry rooms later. The air is tense between them now, and Merlin doesn't know how to break it.

“You didn’t get to finish your dinner, should I fetch you something from the kitchens?”

Arthur's demeanor lights up at the suggestion, “Yes, see if they have any sweets or pastries, I'm rather hungry.” Arthur waves him as he moves his chair back to the dining table.

“Yes, sire.” Merlin makes a hasty escape.

Once out the door, Merlin pulls his shirt over the damp blotch where he cleaned his trousers.

It takes longer than expected for Merlin to return to Arthur’s chambers. Not that Arthur is surprised, it seems any task takes Merlin far longer than it should. It has absolutely no correlation that Arthur’s mood seems to plummet when his clumsy servant isn’t around.

Arthur grabs the book from his nightstand and brings it to the table. Just as he sits down again Merlin finally stumbles his way back in.

“Chef had berry tarts and honey cakes.” Merlin announces as he opens the tray with a flourish to reveal the glazed sweets.

“There’s so many.” Arthur feigns as if he didn’t plan this.

“You said you were hungry.” Merlin’s brow furrows in confusion.

“This many could feed an army.” Arthur rolls his eyes. “Here,” He tugs his other dining chair next to his. “Have some.” Arthur pats the chair.

Merlin raises his eyebrows in surprise. On the rare occasions Arthur has offered for them to eat together Merlin had always sat across from the prince, never next to him.

Merlin eyes Arthur suspiciously.

“Oh please Merlin it's not as if I can eat all of these myself.” To be honest Arthur doesn’t particularly like sweets very much, he can usually only have one or two before feeling a bit ill. “Contrary to what you may believe I am not that fat.”

Merlin doesn't even try to hide his amusement. He goes to take a seat but when he sits on the hard surface he gasps and jolts forward, elbows on the table. Pain shoots up his spine from his arse, raw from the marks Arthur surely left on him.

“Okay?” Arthur reaches out to grab Merlin’s arm to steady him.

”Fine.” Merlin slowly lowers his weight back down. “Just sore.”

Merlin sighs when he is finally able to sit down fully, Arthur watching him with an intensity Merlin rarely sees.

“Here.” Arthur pours them both some wine. Another thing that unsettles Merlin, Arthur has never poured him wine, it’s Merlin's job to do the pouring. “We need to have a conversation about this.”

Oh gods. He changed his mind, Merlin's mind panics. Why would Arthur want to do this with him? He doesn’t even like men. Maybe he got so disgusted with what they did earlier he is gonna call it quits. They had just started though. He’ll just have to be grateful for what they’ve done so far. This is for the better, heavens forbid Uther ever found out. At least this way Merlin will get out alive, even if he feels a bit broken. It’s not as if this could ever go anywhere though, Arthur is the prince and would have to marry a princess one day, he knows that Arthur needs an heir. Merlin's pulse picks up.

The goblet of wine slides in front of him, liquid sloshing inside, similar to Merlin's insides at the moment. He feels a bit queasy.

“You asked about the word earlier.” Arthur startles him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” Merlin turns to look at the prince who is already looking at him calculatingly.

“The word, ‘orange’.” Arthur exasperates “The word we agreed to use to mean ‘actually stop’.”

“Oh, yes, right.” Merlin totally didn’t forget about that... to be fair his mind was a bit preoccupied at the time.

“Merlin. Don’t tell me you forgot.” Arthur says sterner than expected.

“No! I didn’t forget.” Merlin reaches for a honey cake and nibbles a corner.

“Merlin, this is serious.”

“Okay, okay. Yes, ‘orange’ means stop no matter what we are doing.” He says flippantly, much to Arthur's annoyance. But inside Merlin feels like he can breathe again as it sounds like Arthur is still willing to continue with their arrangement.

“We are going to use that word because if we say ‘stop’ we might not actually mean it.”

“I still don't understand that part.” Merlin raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Well,” Arthur pauses thinking over his words, he takes a sip of wine. “You could be saying stop because it feels too good. So you say stop even though you don't want it to actually stop.”

“Okay?” Merlin understands but it still seems a little odd to him.

“There are other situations where it can happen too but, just know that you say that word and we immediately stop.”

“Or if you say it.” Merlin takes another bite of his honey cake.

“Yes, or if I say it.” Arthur nods.

“Okay, that’s easy enough.” Merlin takes a swig of his wine.

“There’s still a lot we have to talk about.” Arthur reaches and grabs a berry tart for himself.

“Like?”

“Let’s start with this.” Arthur slides the book so it’s in between them and flips to the first page, the index.

“Flip through these and read them, if there are any you don’t want to try, point them out. Or if there are any that stand out that you think you’d like, point those out too.” Arthur drags his hand down the ink on the index page.

Merlin feels his cheeks heat, eyes darting to the door. Not that he doesn't want to do this with Arthur, because gods does he, but he can’t seem to get over the embarrassment that wants to flood his system each time they talk about these things. Hell, he gets flustered just thinking of them.

Merlin takes some more sips of his wine before answering. “Fine.”

Arthur takes his time eating his tart as Merlin flips through the first couple of pages. His cheeks a rosy red as he swaps between bites of his second honey cake and sips of wine.

Arthur watches his reactions, trying to gauge what Merlin thinks of each page, but he remains rather hard to read. Arthur has always thought Merlin fairly easy to decipher but there are times when it seems Arthur still can’t fully fathom him out.

He’s about a quarter of the way through and hasn’t said anything at all and Arthur is starting to get restless.

“Well?” The prince can’t help but break the silence.

Merlin’s gaze flicks to his, “Well what?”

“What do you think so far?” Arthur looks back down to the book.

The page title reads ‘Collaring’ and there’s an image of a woman where the only thing she wears is a collar around her neck. There is a fully dressed man that holds what looks like a dog leash, that is attached to the collar.

‘Collaring, the act of wearing a collar around one's neck.
Can be used as a form of control or proof of
possession/ownership. Typically made from
leather, can be inlined with spikes as a form of
punishment or further control.’

“I mean,” Merlin takes another sip of his wine then refills both their cups. “It’s okay so far.”

“Okay? What does that mean? Okay in a good way or okay as you aren’t interested in them or okay I'll do it if I have to.”

“Arthur.” Merlin whines covering his face.

“Merlin, you have to get over your shyness if we are to do these things.”

“Then what do you think?” Merlin narrows his eyes.

“What?” Arthur asks, baffled.

“What do you think of all the ones we’ve looked at so far?”

Arthur swallows, eyes darting to the book, “I- there aren’t any I’m not willing to try.”

Merlin eyes him for a moment. “What about ones you like?”

Arthur’s eyes snap back up to him, “This isn’t about what I like.”

“Well why should I be the only one who has to share.” Merlin grumbles, taking another large swig of his wine.

Arthur pauses at that, if he had to share all of his kinks, he supposes he’d worried about being judged. And Merlin is a virgin for Christ’s sake, while Arthur suspects Merlin has more of an inkling of what he likes than he lets on, he has still never even slept with someone let alone partaken in any advanced sexual stimulations. It’s no wonder he’s so reluctant to share his thoughts.

“Merlin,” Arthur sighs thinking over his words, “People can’t help what they like.” Merlin’s gaze shifts away from his wine meeting Arthur’s, “It’s like your favorite color, you just have preferences, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” Merlin eyes him contemplatively as Arthur continues, “A lot of the time people don't know why their favorite color is what it is, they just know they like it.”

Merlin nods and quirks a brow, “That was almost wise, sire,” he bites his lip still apprehensive, “What if I like something you don’t?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Arthur smiles reassuringly, “But Merlin, know I will never judge you over something like this.” If Arthur was being honest, there are very few things he’d say no to if Merlin is involved.

“Alright.” He resigns, picking up another honey cake.

“Good.” Arthur says a little too jovially, “Now, what do you think of this page then?” Arthur looks back down to the woman wearing a collar.

Merlin's gaze returns to the page, cheeks flushing. “The spikes seem excessive.”

“Okay, that’s a start.” Arthur eyes him, “Keep going.”

“I-” Merlin hesitates, “I like the idea.” His eyes flick back to Arthur.

“Good.” Arthur’s voice comes out a bit raspy. “That’s good.” He clears his throat. ”How about this, for each one you like, rank on a scale of one to ten, ten being the ones you think you’d like the most. That way you don't feel like you have to explain yourself.” Arthur takes another bite of his berry tart.

Merlin nods and takes a rather large bite out of his honey cake. “Okay.” He looks back down to the page, “Nine,” his voice comes out shy.

Arthur’s mind is immediately flooded with ideas. A simple black leather would look divine around his servant's slim neck, but it wouldn't quite show that Merlin belongs to the Prince of Camelot. An elegant golden chain however, no even better, silver would look regal on his pale skin. He could even wear it under his neckerchief, maybe Arthur could get him a Pendragon red neckerchief, a more public statement of who he belongs to.

Arthur hadn't noticed Merlin turning the page until his manservant speaks up again with another number. Lord, Merlin is going to be the death of him.

They go through the book well into the evening, the longer they talk the easier it gets to rate each entry and the less embarrassed Merlin feels. He also makes his limits clear with things he feels no desire in trying, those like within the back of the book at the more advanced fetishes. Arthur is thankful that quite a few of Merlin’s hard no’s line up with his. It’s past midnight by the time they finish with a good understanding of the things Merlin is willing and wants to try.

Merlin creeps his way through Giaus’ workroom not wanting to wake the physician, making his way to bed feeling much more secure about the situation.

Merlin's final rating: 8

Praise kink
Gaining sexual gratification from praise.
This can be anything from sexual praise to
everyday acknowledgments.

Merlin’s initial rating: 6.5

The next day Arthur and his knights are sent off to investigate rumors of rather violent bandits that have been spotted to the West. Obviously, they bring Merlin along as well.

It’s an overcast day, the late summer sun not able to keep away the encroaching chill of autumn. The cool breeze rustles the brush of the forest floor.

It’s late afternoon when Merlin starts to complain. He has held out since early morning but they hadn't found any evidence of bandits yet and riding on his arse, that had been marred yesterday, isn’t the most pleasant feeling.

“Arthur, we should take a break, we’ve been riding all day,” Merlin complains from his usual spot next to the prince.

“What’s the matter Merlin? Your little bottom sore?” Arthur asks, eyeing him out of his periphery.

This prat. Merlin glares at the prince.

“Yes.” Merlin says bluntly, “It’s not as fat as yours.”

There’s a laugh from behind them, Merlin’s sure it’s Gwaine.

Arthur makes it abundantly clear that he’s rolling his eyes even though the knights can’t see his face.

“Fine, you heard the lady.” Arthur calls to the knights, “We’ll pull over in the clearing ahead.”

The knights snicker amongst themselves.

Merlin puffs his chest and clicks his horse ahead, taking the lead. He’s used to the teasing; it doesn't truly bother him, not that he’d ever consider being compared to a woman an insult to begin with, unlike the prat.

Normally in these situations, Arthur wouldn’t allow them to stop for Merlin’s sake, he’d simply tell him to toughen up and not slow them down. Merlin has no doubt Arthur is fully aware of why he wants to rest.

Merlin, first to arrive at the clearing, takes a quick glance around with his magic, unsurprisingly there are no signs of any bandits.

By the time he dismounts and ties up his horse the others have arrived and start to dismount as well.

The knights talk amongst themselves, mostly about the potential bandit encounter but Merlin isn’t really paying attention. He walks past them to a soft looking patch of grass where he plops down on his stomach, giving his backside a much needed break.

He hears the knights divvying out snacks they brought along and the rustling of saddlebags.

They all make their way towards Merlin one by one, sitting down as comfortably as they can in their armor.

The wind blows a crisp gale through the air and Merlin takes a deep breath, feeling the fresh air invigorate his lungs. That is until he feels the pressure of a boot on his arse.

He gasps rather dramatically from the jolt of pain, drawing some of the knight's attention. He turns his head as much as he can, as he is still being pinned down by said boot, only to see Arthur smirking down at him. The prince’s gaze darkens when their eyes meet.

Merlin gives the prat his harshest glare as he attempts to wiggle out from under his boot, but Arthur only smirks more.

“Oh don’t be such a startled stoat Merlin.” Arthur presses down harder with his boot before lifting his foot.

Merlin takes in another deep breath, trying to cool his heating face as Arthur walks over towards Leon with a swagger in his step that goes unnoticed by most of the knights. Merlin buries his face into the cool grass, doing his best to fight down a smile at Arthur’s dirty playfulness.

After their break, they ride until the sun starts to set. It’s getting dark quickly due to the overcast clouds looming above them.

Merlin, relieved to once again be off his horse, scurries about his duties as the knights start setting up their bedrolls under the thick canopy above head.

After tending to the horses and starting the fire Merlin starts preparing their dinner. He had spent a few extra coins the other day in the market as a shipment of some of his favorite spices had been delivered for the first time since the start of the season.

The knights are all joking about some scullery maid who rejected Gwaine as they jovially pass around skins filled with wine. Merlin eagerly sprinkles in a mix of the spices he bought and some dried up herbs into their simmering stew.

“Merlin,” Lancelot calls from over the servant’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Lance?” Merlin asks not turning away from the stew as the delectable smell proliferates into the air.

“Do you think we might get rained on tonight? If so, I'll move my bedroll to a better spot.” Lancelot eyes the tree branches above them.

Merlin grins as he turns to look over his shoulder. “Why ask me?

Lancelot smiles knowingly. “You just seem to have a strangely accurate sense with these things.”

“Please, it’s a miracle Merlin has any sense at all.” Arthur teases from the other side of the fire, earning a few chuckles from the others.

“Well, if I had to guess. I’d say no rain tonight, but we’ll probably see some by midday tomorrow.” Merlin smiles at Lancelot before turning back to the stew, “But no worries if we get caught in the rain, Arthur’s head is big enough to shade us all.”

Percival snorts wine up his nose as the others laugh.

Arthur just rolls his eyes at his ever so insolent servant.

By the time the stew is done Merlin can practically hear the rumble of the knight's stomachs. He fills everyone’s bowls and lastly his own before carefully easing down into the spot between Gwaine and Lancelot.

Everyone is too eagerly eating to make any conversation, but they all hum appreciatively as they shovel stew into their mouths.

The smokiness from the fire enhances just how well the herbs mix with the vegetables and meat Merlin used. It melts on his tongue as he hums in delight.

“As much as I hate to admit it Merlin,” Arthur states, being one of the only ones able to break away from his bowl. His servant eyes him warily across the fire. “This is rather delicious. Good job.”

The moment the last two words leave Arthur's mouth, Merlin’s eyes flash a bright pink.

This is quickly followed by Gwaine choking on his stew next to Merlin. One by one the knights look over concerned for their comrade but are disturbed when they see a near manic grin on the man's face as he hits his chest trying to get some air.

Merlin hunches over his bowl trying to calm the blush on his face. Leave it to the one other person who knows about the spell to have seen what just happened.

Arthur, watching Merlin shy away from his gaze and into his stew, has to restrain himself from marching over to Merlin and whispering delicious praises into the boy's ears until he’s squirming in his seat.

The servant's eyes flick to his quickly before glancing around at the knights only to return to his stew.

Gwaine’s choking has transformed into hoarse chuckling as he leans against Merlin’s shoulder for support.

Lancelot eyes the knight strangely “Christ Gwaine, what has gotten into you?”

Elyan chimes in from next to Arthur, “You couldn’t have drank that much already.”

Gwaine takes a deep breath, still leaning against Merlin. “No, no I’m alright. Just, I can’t believe I let myself forget.”

“Forget what?” Elyan asks suspiciously.

“Just how cute our Merlin is.” Gwaine ruffles the raven's hair.

Arthur’s brief amusement dies down as he watches the interaction.

“Alright. He’s drunk.” Leon says, rolling his eyes.

“Bugger off Gwaine.” Merlin shoves the knight off of him in a friendly manner.

“Oh! Speaking of buggering-” Gwaine’s gaze shifts to Arthur’s.

“Merlin!” Arthur interrupts before Gwaine can continue. “Fetch us some more firewood.”

Gwaine starts cackling again earning him another round of strange looks from the others.

“But I’m still eating,” Merlin whines.

“Well hurry up.”

Merlin grumbles inaudibly into his soup. Gwaine gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder but the knight still can’t stop smiling.

Merlin slurps down the rest of his dinner, collects everyone’s bowls, and starts to wander aimlessly into the dark woods muttering about arrogant prats.

The knights huddle closer than normal around the fire trying to fight off the chill of nightfall. Embers from the fire float through the cracks in the branches and into the clouded sky.

“Sire,” Leon leans over to Arthur not wanting to disturb the tale Elyan is regaleing to the knights. “Merlin has been gone for a while. Perhaps someone should go look for him?”

Arthur looks around his knights, eyes locking with Lancelot's.

“I’ll go lo-” But Lancelot is stopped by a loud rustling and angry murmuring as Merlin stomps his way into their clearing.

“It’s nearly pitch black out there!” Merlin complains loudly, “could barely see anything.” The servant walks over and drops the wood next to the fire, huffing as he does so.

“Well,” Arthur eyes him and Merlin’s heart speeds up at the hunger in the prince's gaze. “Even with how dark it is, this is a good amount of wood Merlin. Good job.” Arthur can’t help himself.

Merlin freezes as a few of the knights give Arthur strange looks. It’s not like him to compliment anyone let alone Merlin, and twice now in one night.

Gwaine lets out an impressed whistle. “Damn Merlin, that is some nice wood.”

Merlin turns to glare at the knight who merely winks at him.

There are some chuckles and groans at the knight's poor innuendo.

The next couple of hours go by relatively normal… is what Merlin would have liked to say. There had been no bandit attacks or anything of the sort. However, Gwaine’s antics are possibly leading Merlin into a more dangerous situation.

The knight has been egregiously praising Merlin all evening much to the growing annoyance of Arthur. The prince’s patience is running thin as with every praise Gwaine peeks over at Arthur, trying to get a reaction out of the prince. The knight knows Arthur couldn’t rise to the bait, at least not in front of the others, not without questions. Arthur can't simply just play drunk like Gwaine and get away with anything.

And the worst part of it all? Merlin blushing like a maiden nearly every time, only feeding Gwaine’s forwardness. Some of the other knights even join in on the teasing and Arthur can feel the building anger simmering in his abdomen.

Merlin can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into Arthur, he seemed in a fine mood earlier but he keeps giving him these dark looks every now and then as if waiting for Merlin to do something. Each look is intense and Merlin is fairly certain Arthur is trying to communicate something to him and Merlin has to hide his shivers from the intensity of his gaze.

“Perhaps when we take watch we do a short patrol every hour, to keep an eye out for any signs of encroaching bandits,” Leon suggests as they all start to get ready for bed.

Arthur grunts his approval as he stands up from his seat.

“Princess, why don't you and Merls take the first watch?” Gwaine calls from the opposite side of the fire as he slings an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “I bet he’ll do a great job helping you. He’s always so good at watch-”

“Gwaineeee.” Merlin groans, oblivious to the knight's real intentions.

Arthur narrows his eyes at the knight and then to the offending arm he has still slung around his servant's shoulders. “Fine. Merlin, you're with me.”

“Thanks a lot, Gwaine,” Merlin complains as he stands up and stretches his legs.

As the knights settle in to sleep Merlin tosses some more branches onto the fire to try to keep away the chill in the air.

“Come on Merlin.” Arthur impatiently calls waiting by the tree line.

“I’m coming you prat, just making sure we don't freeze to death tonight.” Merlin meanders over slowly just to annoy Arthur.

“Oh please, this little nip wouldn’t freeze anyone to death.”

“Well, definitely not someone who has as much padding as you do, sire.” Merlin smiles and pats Arthur’s shoulder reassuringly as he saunters past him into the surrounding forest. If Arthur watches the sway of Merlin’s hips as he walks past, no one need know.

“I am not fat!” Arthur calls out as they walk further from the knights.

Merlin playfully speeds up when Arthur tries to swat at him. Arthur easily catches up to his manservant and lands a whack to the back of his head.

They walk for a bit enjoying the quiet of the night, a hooting owl can be heard in the distance. But before long Merlin’s ever incessant need to break the silence kicks in. They’re a ways away from the knights now, the glow of the fire nearly fully swallowed by the darkness of the night and surrounding plant life.

“So,” Merlin turns and smiles at him, rubbing the back of his head, “You liked the stew?”

“I think everyone did with the way they scarfed it down.” Arthur snickers.

Arthur can see the way Merlin puffs his chest out with pride and has to fight down his smile.

“You did do a really good job.” Arthur adds, voice dipping slightly lower.

“Well, I’m good at a lot of things,” Merlin shrugs trying to play off the compliment, “you’re just too oblivious to notice.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed.” Arthur scans the surrounding dark forest for any signs of bandits, flicking his eyes back to the glow of their campsite.

Merlin’s heart jumps into his throat, “what?” He squeaks out.

“On the very rare occasion you are able to get a chore or two done competently.”

Merlin’s heart rate calms enough that it’s no longer pounding in his ears, He was nearly sure Arthur had meant his magic, and it takes him a moment to register what Arthur had said.

“Only one or two?” Merlin says, sounding thoughtful, making Arthur slightly suspicious.

“If that.” Arthur retorts pompously, trying to get a rise out of his servant.

“Perhaps,” Merlin drawls, he stops and turns so they’re face to face, “I should do something you find worthy of praise then?” Merlin’s eyes travel down the prince’s strong body.

Arthur swallows, the blood in his brain heads south causing his mind to blank for a moment. He hadn’t expected Merlin to be so forward, perhaps their talk last night worked better than he expected.

Merlin doesn't look as if he is in any pain though, and based off the timing of the past two incidents, they should still have more than enough time given Merlin’s eyes flashed at his praise mere hours ago. But Arthur is afraid to ask, worried Merlin might stop or that he’d ruin the moment.

A sly smirk makes its way onto Merlin’s face as the servant moves ever so closer, the tips of their boots nearly touching. “Is there anything I could do,” Merlin speaks slowly, his eyes lingering on Arthur's lips before meeting his eyes, “to earn your praise, sire?” Merlin tilts his head teasingly, nearly bringing their lips together.

Merlin had been trying to ignore his arousal ever since Arthur had praised his cooking. Then for the prat to go on and do it again, on purpose, after he collected the firewood. Not to mention, while Gwaine realizing was embarrassing, it was also somewhat exciting, him knowing that Arthur was purposefully affecting Merlin. Not to mention the looks Arthur had been giving him all night, his dark gaze focusing on him had fanned the flame growing inside him.

Arthur can hardly believe what is happening, it’s a near perfect replication of his many fantasies, Merlin in his ever vexatious way wanting to please him. He watches Merlin’s hungry lidded eyes and the minute quirk of the corner of his mouth.

“On your knees.” Arthur’s voice rumbles as he puts a hand on his servant's shoulder shoving him down.

Merlin’s smirk widens as he falls to his knees, he can feel the cool floor of the forest through his trousers.

Arthur hauls his chainmail up with the hand not on his servant's shoulder and Merlin immediately reaches for the prince’s drawstrings.

Arthur is already breathing heavily in anticipation for what is to come, his rising body temperature already overpowering the cold of the night air.

Merlin’s well practiced fingers unlace his trousers with ease and they fall down around his ankles. He reaches for Arthur’s small clothes but Arthur gives his shoulder a firm squeeze, stopping Merlin in his tracks.

His manservant looks up through his lashes at him, mouth petulantly turned down at the corners. Arthur feels his cock twitch at the image. “Do you know how to do this?” He knows Merlin is inexperienced but he doesn’t know how inexperienced.

“I know enough.” Merlin’s voice comes out low and haughtily.

And he does, Merlin has messed around with a few stable boys here and there, nothing serious, and they never went further than this.

Arthur loosens his grip on his shoulder, letting Merlin continue his crusade. The servant dips his fingers into the waistband of his smalls teasingly before slowly dragging them down. The fabric gets caught on his erection but quickly pops off, Merlin hungrily watches as his cock springs free.

While Merlin has seen Arthur naked countless times, never had the prince been hard. His cock is swollen to its full length, an angry wanting red while his tip leaks precum begging Merlin to taste. Merlin only wishes it wasn’t so dark so he could see better.

He glances up at Arthur who is watching rather amused as Merlin gawks at his manhood. The prince raises his eyebrows waiting for Merlin to continue. Merlin narrows his eyes before boldly taking the prince’s cock in hand and leaning forward to lick a stripe along the underside from the base to tip where Merlin laps at his leaking slit.

Arthur gasps at the contact and watches with greedy eyes as Merlin sinfully runs his tongue over him.

Merlin places open mouth kisses along the side of his prick taking his time exploring Arthur’s texture, feeling the veins under his lips and against his tongue seeing what areas get a rise out of the prince.

“Merlin.” Arthur impatiently groans needing more. He can feel Merlin smile against him but he makes no move to take him into his mouth, much to Arthur’s frustration.

Having enough of the teasing, Arthur's hand moves from Merlin’s shoulder into his raven locks. “Merlin.” He growls out, pulling Merlin’s head back so he can look his servant in the eyes, “I have waited long enough for this.” His voice is sharp and deadly.

“Waited long have you?” Merlin can’t help but snark, knowing he has waited far longer for this than the prince has.

“Longer than I care to admit,” Arthur grumbles, annoyance building. Being able to get whatever whenever he wants Arthur has never been a very patient person.

Merlin’s pause lasts for only a moment as Arthur’s hand drags him back in front of the prince’s crotch. As much as Merlin delights in annoying Arthur he’d much rather have his mouth around his master’s cock, so he leans forward and takes Arthur into his mouth, slowly, he has to annoy him at least a little still.

Arthur groans as his tip is encased in the wet heat of Merlin’s mouth, he has to restrain himself from thrusting down his servant's throat. Merlin works his way down his shaft dragging his tongue along the underside.

Merlin begins to experimentally suck Arthur’s cock, starting out softly as he nears the base where Arthur’s dark golden curls lay. Arthur’s breath hitches and his hand tightens in Merlin’s hair. Merlin looks up at the prince whose muscles are tight with restraint.

When Merlin looks at him Arthur has to will himself not to cum right there. Merlin’s plush lips obediently stretching around his aching cock is more than Arthur feels worthy to have in this lifetime.

Merlin nearly has his nose pressed into Arthur’s curls when he gags pulling back a fraction on reflex. Merlin backs up more and starts bobbing his head, knowing where his limit is now.

Arthur watches as Merlin starts moving his head, he starts to increase his pace, sucking harder as he goes.

“Fuck, Merlin.” Arthur groans out, eyes locked onto his manservant pleasuring him. “So good, your mouth feels so fucking good.”

Egged on by Arthur, Merlin drags his mouth to the tip, swirling his tongue in a way that has Arthur seeing stars. Merlin opens his mouth wide, giving Arthur a lewd view of exactly what he is doing with his tongue.

“Christ.” Arthur breathes out heavily at the sight.

Merlin’s lip quirks before he closes around Arthur’s cock much tighter this time.

Arthur can’t help but reflexively thrust forward, earning a moan from Merlin that reverberates through Arthur’s entire body.

“Mmph yes,” Arthur moans as Merlin speeds up his bobbing, “Just like that,” he tightens his grip on Merlin’s hair pulling roughly. “Fuck. Merlin, you feel so good.”

Sharp pleasure shoots through Merlin and goes straight to his already hard cock. Merlin moans again around his cock. He wants to reach down, wrap a hand around himself and work himself but it's his turn to make Arthur feel good, and right now he wants nothing more than to do a good job.

“Fucking hell,” Arthur groans, “so good Merlin, taking me so well. Your mouth looks so pretty stretched around my cock.” The prince runs his hand through Merlin’s hair in a petting manner.

Merlin keens at the praise, his head feels delightfully fuzzy as if he’s had too many drinks. He increases his speed, curling his tongue as he looks up through his lashes.

That sight alone is enough for Arthur to feel the telltale tightening in his balls. “Merlin,” he warns urgently and pulls on his manservant’s hair but Merlin brings his hands around Arthur’s thighs to prevent him from pulling away. He tightens his lips and sinks down as far as he can and Arthur can’t help but thrust forward as pleasure erupts from him.

Arthur throws his head back and holds Merlin in place as his cum shoots down the younger’s throat. Merlin does his best to breathe through his nose but sputters off Arthur’s cock once he has sucked the prince dry.

Arthur’s panting is heavy as he cards his fingers through Merlin’s hair. Merlin rests his face against Arthur’s thigh taking a moment to regain his wits.

They stay there for a minute. Coming out of his reprieve Arthur scans the trees for bandits but there’s no sign of anyone else in the forest other than the faint glow of their campfire. He’s drawn out of his musings when he feels Merlin smile against his thigh.

“Hmm?” Arthur hums looking down but he can’t see his friend's face from this angle.

“Worthy of your praise, sire?” Merlin looks up, grinning cheekily.

Arthur snorts, “What do you think?”

“Well, I can always try again.” Merlin chuckles and dramatically bats his lashes.

Arthur is overcome with pure and unadulterated affection for his best friend in that moment. It starts in his chest and floods into the rest of his body, warm and comforting like a well-stocked hearth in the middle of the cold season. It has always been there, for as long as he can remember, ever since the brash peasant boy tried to throw a punch at him. But every so often he is overcome with such adoration for him, it's a bit unnerving honestly.

Arthur can’t help but smile affectionately, “You’re insatiable.” The prince pulls his discarded clothes back up around his waist.

Merlin chuckles as he pushes himself up, using Arthur’s leg as leverage. Arthur can’t help but notice the tent in Merlin’s trousers.

Before Merlin is even fully straightened Arthur grabs him by the arm and twists, strikingly similar to when they first met.

“Arthur!” Merlin squawks and thrashes in shock, but he is no match against Arthur in a game of strength.

“Easy,” Arthur soothes, but his soft tone is a complete contrast to how he aggressively tightens his grip and pulls Merlin into his chest.

“What are you doing?” Merlin seethes, squirming in his grip.

“If you haven’t noticed we aren’t camping with tents tonight.” Arthur quips teasingly.

“What?” Merlin is completely lost at this point.

“Your trousers.” Merlin can hear Arthur’s eye roll.

In the ecstasy of bringing Arthur off, he had forgotten about his own growing arousal which is very prominent when Merlin looks down.

“Hilarious, sire.” Merlin tuts, in reality, he can’t think of a comeback, now reminded of the hot arousal still stirring in his gut.

“Mmm.” Arthur hums as he mouths at his servant’s neck just above his neckerchief.

The wet warmth of Arthur’s mouth sends chills down his spine and Merlin can't help his shiver. He can feel Arthur’s smile against his neck. “Suppose we should do something about that then.”

“We?” Merlin hopes his voice doesn’t come off as eager as it sounds in his head.

Arthur hums again, taking his hand that isn’t restraining his servant, he reaches around to undo the laces of Merlin’s breeches.

A couple of easy pulls and the fabric falls right down, not able to be held up by Merlin’s waist alone.

Arthur can feel how Merlin’s breathing is picking up again, it makes the prince feel powerful; getting such a reaction out of the boy. Arthur has nearly everyone on one knee for him at all times, Merlin, however, always refused to bow. It’s one of the reasons Arthur’s so fond of him. But now, being able to rile him up so easily, to make him comply, it stirs a great sense of satisfaction within him; it's like an innate power thrumming through Arthur’s veins. For Merlin to willingly let Arthur take the reins, do what he pleases, for Merlin to obey him, it sets Arthur's nerves ablaze, as hot and raging as dragon fire.

Arthur bites at the side of Merlin’s neck just soft enough not to leave a mark, Merlin eagerly tilts his head giving Arthur better access. As much as Arthur wants to take his time, they are on watch right now. He slides his fingers into Merlin’s small clothes and slides them down, his cock bobs excitedly when freed from the fabric.

Not wasting any time, Arthur wraps his calloused hand around Merlin, his servant whines arching back into Arthur’s chest. Arthur works Merlin how he usually works himself, tightening at the base and twisting slightly at the tip where his hand gathers the precum leaking from Merlin, only to spread it down over his servant's cock in the next stroke.

Merlin cums much too quickly for his own liking, he wanted to last longer, have Arthur touch him for longer. But he had already been so riled up from pleasing the prince he that can only last a few minutes.

He finishes with a breathy groan as his cum decorates the forest floor in front of him. Merlin slumps back into Arthur’s frame, harsh breaths wracking his chest.

“Good?” Arthur’s voice rumbles next to Merlin’s ear after a moment.

Merlin nods, taking a deep breath, the brisk air doing little to cool off his body temperature.

Arthur finally releases his arm and Merlin nearly stumbles forward, his wobbly legs supporting his weight. Arthur bends down and lifts Merlin’s s and trousers in one swoop. It’s a strange feeling, to help Merlin dress when he dresses Arthur nearly every day. He wonders what Merlin thinks of it, if it makes him feel more like an equal.

The thought niggles Arthur’s brain, but more so is the fact that he is fairly certain they didn’t have to do this. There was no risk for Merlin, hell his eyes flashed hours earlier, there was a slim chance he was in pain. Yet they still took pleasure from each other, Merlin got on his knees for him without the threat of the spell. Arthur can’t stop the unsure yet somewhat eager feeling swirling in his stomach, he has the mind to ignore the excitement, surely just from their recent activities.

“We should get back to camp.” Merlin laces up his breeches slowly with clumsy hands.

“Yes, I think we give Gwaine second watch.” Arthur muses, shaking away his thoughts for now.

Merlin snorts as they start making their way back, they scan the forest, watching for signs of bandits, Arthur looking around alertly, Merlin feeling with his magic.

The next morning they are able to find the bandits and take them out, thanks to Merlin’s covert use of magic. Though they did end up getting rained on in the afternoon, much to Merlin and Lancelot’s amusement.

Merlin’s final rating: 10

Possessiveness
When one or more persons demands
all of the attention of another party. This
can be seen as closely related to ‘ownership’
though it is not the same.

Merlin’s initial rating: 5

A full day has passed since their encounter with the bandits, of which Merlin was busy running around preparing the castle for some high ranking visiting nobles.

Arthur had warned him to be on his best behavior as there were excruciatingly important diplomatic issues to be discussed. If Merlin was being honest, he didn’t see how it could be that important with only a few days warning of the nobles arrival. Surely if it was detrimental they would have been given more of a warning and time to spruce up the castle to the liking of the nobles. Then again, Merlin doubted they ever even noticed such things, they were always too obsessed with making connections and gaining favors.

Arthur was in a meeting with his father, surely discussing the plans for the banquet later. This allowed the other servants to drag Merlin into helping set up the dining hall. Not that he truly minded, he was always willing to give a helping hand and it’s much better work than mucking out the stables or cleaning Giaus’ leech tank.

It was nearly four candle marks after midday when a runner came with news of the approaching envoy. Merlin had to scramble to Arthur’s chambers to re-dress him in more appropriate clothes. Thankfully in the frantic rush he couldn’t think of their recent developments, too much. However, that’s how he finds himself tailing Arthur’s quick pace to the citadel steps to greet the arriving nobles.

Uther and Morgana are unsurprisingly already waiting, Uther giving his son a stern look he is all too familiar with, whereas Morgana looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. The knights who were not out on patrol are also here, dressed in their armor and capes, they bow as the prince walks by, though Merlin can still see the wink Gwaine shoots in their direction. Arthur takes his spot just behind the king and Merlin behind him, placing him next to Gwen who gives him a small smile.

The maidservant leans over, “Don’t worry, I think Uther is more annoyed that they aren’t here yet.”

“Didn’t the runner say they’d be here soon?” Merlin whispers back, though he suspects more than likely Arthur and Morgana were listening to their conversation.

“Yes,” Gwen bites her bottom lip, “either they somehow got caught up in something, or they are moving slowly on purpose.”

“Got caught up in something since they exited the forest?” Merlin asks disbelievingly.

Gwen shrugs but doesn't say anything.

“Isn’t it considered rude to keep the royal family waiting? Do you think they’re doing it on purpose?” Merlin’s pretty sure he’d never seen anybody keep the royal family waiting for this long, granted it’s a lucky break that he and Arthur made it down in time, but still.

“I’m not sure, but it is rather odd.”

Just as Gwen finishes speaking, the clopping of hooves can finally be heard. It only takes the envoy a few moments to make their appearance, royal blue capes flowing in the wind. Stable boys rush over eager to relieve the men of their horses.

Merlin recognizes the insignia right away, House of Northumbria. He knows this sigil rather well as he had made a magical copy of it when Lancelot first arrived, thankfully that issue is well past dealt with. He can’t help but glance over to the knight who is already looking back at him, surely thinking the same thing.

“King Uther!” a voice cheerfully booms drawing Merlin’s attention back. He seems a few years older than Uther, a little shorter and wider as well. He has a white-grey beard that matches his short hair.

“King Clarion! It is good to see you.” Uther replies less enthusiastically, but that’s how he always is with visitors, though Merlin can’t help but wonder if making them wait has perhaps irked their king.

The two men clasp forearms in a handshake seen many times amongst the knights. It’s strange that knights seem to have their own language of touch, one Merlin has somewhat learned over the years.

“Let me introduce my sons.” King Clarion turns, motioning four men behind him forwards.

The two oldest had matching brown hair and tanned skin, the oldest Sir Rhys sports a well trimmed beard whereas Sir Kane, second oldest, has a rather prominent scar on his chin. The third oldest, Sir Bowen has blonde hair, not quite as blonde as Arthur’s but still very regal looking, Merlin thinks he was in a tournament here ages ago, he has rather fair skin for a knight. Lastly King Clarion introduces his youngest, Sir Elias, he has brown hair like the two oldest but his eyes are a rather striking green color, although he is the youngest he is still a few years older than Arthur.

Uther is quick to follow, introducing Arthur and Morgana. The visiting princes clasp Arthur’s forearm and kiss Morgana’s hand. The three oldest sons seem to be rather fixated on the king’s ward whereas the youngest amiably looks around, his eyes catch Merlin’s for a moment but the servant is quick to avert his gaze in proper subservience.

Uther leads the men into the castle, assigning servants to take their visitors to their rooms, before leaving himself to prepare for the banquet.

Once back in his chambers Arthur feels like he can breathe again.

“That was rather rude to keep you waiting.” Merlin states as he closes the door behind him.

Arthur doesn't say anything, truly gobsmacked that Merlin of all people would say such a thing.

Merlin has to fight down his smile at the prince’s expression, “I suppose you’re right.” He putters about the room picking up Arthur’s clothes he haphazardly threw about in their earlier rush. Arthur stares a moment longer at the sheer audacity of his servant before rolling his eyes and making his way to his desk.

“So,” Merlin asks after a moment of silence “Northumbria? A rather long journey.”

Arthur hums looking over the papers that were left for him.

“Must want to discuss something important,” Merlin tries.

Arthur doesn’t rise to the bait, choosing to now ignore Merlin. But Merlin knows better, Arthur had already looked over those papers last night.

“He even brought all his sons along.” Merlin drops the stray clothes into a basket.

“Merlin. Some of us actually have work to do.”

“Right, right. Of course sire. My apologies. Won’t happen again… I’ll-”

“Merlin.” Arthur turns in his chair to look at his manservant but Merlin quickly turns the other way, hiding his smile.

A few moments pass until Merlin speaks up again. “I’m just saying-”

Arthur groans, putting down his paper.

“-That it’s strange to bring all of his sons.” Merlin continues, “Surely it must be important.”

“He probably just brought them to see if my father is willing to sign away Morgana to one of them.” Arthur finally gives in.

“You think?” Merlin turns around, genuinely surprised.

“That’s probably not the main reason for their abrupt arrival, but Northumbria is a far journey so might as well make the most of it.” Arthur says rather flippantly.

It's then that the bell tower strikes five.

“Come on then,” Arthur stands, making his way to the door, “I have nobles to entertain.”

Arthur was supposed to be the one entertaining the nobles, well him and Morgana. In no way was Merlin intended to be interacting with them other than to perhaps fill a goblet or two.

Unfortunately the youngest son, Sir Elias seems rather interested in having Merlin, his manservant, serve him.

With Sir Elias being the youngest, though still older than Arthur himself, he was sat the furthest away. The two middle sons separated him and Sir Elias. While they did their best to converse with Morgana who sat across from Arthur and next to the oldest son, they were also eager to talk to the greatest swordsman in Camelot. Normally Arthur would be more than willing to discuss sword skills with fellow nobles but the fact that servants that were undoubtedly not Merlin were serving him was rather irritating, for reasons Arthur didn’t dare delve into.

Sir Elias kept Merlin close at all times, if not asking for more wine than asking for another napkin or anything of the sort. And when not asking for assistance then he was talking to Merlin. Talking to a servant at a banquet thrown for their arrival. The worst part though was he had actually managed to make Merlin laugh a few times.

Arthur did his best to pay attention to those around him, he really did, but he couldn't help but watch Merlin like a hawk, waiting for Sir Elias to step out of line. Though, isn’t a merlin a type of hawk? It’s a predatory bird for sure, Merlin had made that point multiple times before. So perhaps he wasn’t watching Merlin like a hawk but a much larger, more predatory bird.

“Prince Arthur?” King Clarion asks.

Arthur whips his head around to see one angry king and one confused king.

“My apologies King Clarion, I am a bit tired as I just came back from a rather eventful patrol yesterday.” Arthur ducks his head in apology as he speaks, while not fully a lie, it was within forty eight hours, it was most certainly not what has him so distracted.

“No worries my boy,” Clarion takes a sip of wine, his full cheeks already rosy from the effects of the alcohol, “In my heyday I was always more of a man of action rather than one of councils and banquets.”

“Perhaps you have some tips for a swordsman like myself then?” Arthur smiles charmingly.

“Oh I don't think so,” Sir Rhys, the eldest interjects from next to Morgana. “Don’t be giving away our secrets, father. It’s the only chance we have of beating Prince Arthur in the tournament.” He jests, smiling into his goblet.

Those around laughed, a melodious sound of practiced royal etiquette.

The night goes on at a gruesomely slow pace, and not just because Arthur has to watch Merlin be sequestered by another prince.

By the time dessert was served Arthur was starting to feel the buzz of wine, he had been pacing himself, unlike most of those who surrounded him who were clearly already inebriated. The music had picked up and some moved to dance while others stayed sitting enjoying conversations, since neither king makes to get up neither do the princes (or ward).

Most of the knights, Camelot’s and Northumbria’s, are still sat enjoying alcohol jesting with each other, some had even pulled a servant girl or two onto their lap, a promise for a good end of the night and a chance for the servants to move up the social ladder.

Looking around something sticks out to the prince though, Arthur’s own knights are rather rigid, not their usual boisterous selves. Especially Gwaine who always enjoys banquets, his gaze is deadly, jaw tightened in a way that makes him look rather lethal. It takes Arthur’s wine-addled brain a moment to realize they are all looking in the same direction.

Arthur turns to see where they are looking and he feels his stomach drop out from underneath him. Sir Elias has his hand on the back of Merlin’s thigh as the boy stiffly pours more wine. Elias’ eyes are still sharp, not hazed from alcohol. The visiting prince leans close to Merlin whispering something in his ear that has the servant blushing a bright shade of scarlet.

However, Merlin, the idiot, takes that moment to spill the wine, adorning Elais’ shirt with a new red-purple splotch.

Merlin mentally curses himself, the pain had started perhaps half a candle mark ago and was steadily growing quicker. At first, he thought it was his imagination, but now he’s sure that the pain increases at a more rapid rate each time. The time between seems to be shrinking slightly too.

Merlin, now fully flustered, sets down the wine and nearly spills it again as his muscles twitch from a sharp sting of pain.

“I’m so sorry Prince Elias,” Merlin picks up a napkin and starts to dab at his shirt frantically. “Truly my sincerest apologies.” Gods he’s so dead, if Arthur doesn’t kill him Uther certainly will.

“Nonsense Merlin,” The prince smiles at him endearingly, “I’ve quite enjoyed your service so far tonight. A little spilt wine is nothing.”

Merlin relaxes slightly, King Clarion and his sons do seem rather hospitable for nobles and Elias has been a rather fun conversationalist throughout the night, telling Merlin what their travels were like. He had even asked Merlin about where he was from, not that there’s much to say about Ealdor other than that it’s a small farming village in Cenred’s Kingdom.

“Please, I’m sure your shirt is more than my yearly makings.” Merlin half apologizes half jokes, though it’s probably true.

The visiting prince snorts at that and quickly tries to hide his undignified behavior but the twinkle of amusement stays in his eyes.

“Perhaps then, if it is worrying you so much, there is a way you can make it up to me.” The prince unabashedly flirts as he moves his hand to the back of Merlin's thigh.

It’s not as if Merlin isn’t used to this behavior, he is rather seasoned with the advances of nobles, visiting or otherwise. Though it’s rare for it to be coming from someone who seems genuinely interested in him and his snarkiness, rather than just the prince’s manservant.

Perhaps if he hadn’t been in such emotional turmoil in regards to Arthur lately he’d be a bit more receptive to the prince’s advances. But it doesn’t seem right to flirt with someone else while doing… things with Arthur. Though Merlin knows he and Arthur aren't serious, no matter how much he wishes otherwise. It still doesn't feel right.

There’s another sharp pang in Merlin’s abdomen and he has to fight not to bend over.

Merlin sucks in a breath about to reply, but Prince Elias seems to take his silence as permission and drags him into his lap. Merlin’s face heats up immediately. Not only at the implications but he’s the only male servant to be pulled onto someone's lap.

Uncaring if he is ignoring anyone around him now, Arthur stares, and he keeps staring, as Elias moves his hand up to Merlin’s lower back and pulls the servant onto his lap.

Merlin refuses to look up from the table as his face heats in shame. Only for Sir Elias to cup his hand over his jaw and tilt his chin up, making Merlin look at him.

There’s a moment, a brief moment, but a moment nonetheless, where Arthur hears a voice in his head, it sounds startling like his father, reminding him that they are here on an important diplomatic matter.

However the unfettered rage in the deepest part of Arthur’s being prevails. He feels it course through his veins, through his soul until it’s nearly choking. Unlike his normal anger that comes in bouts of fiery red, this is white and hot, searing through him, it’s divine and damn near transcendent. As if he is a warrior graced with the power of God for the greater good.

He goes to get up intending to march over and tear Merlin out of the man's grasp. Before he is able to even push his chair back Morgana’s voice cuts through from across the table.

“Arthur, you're still tired from your patrol and you have the tourney tomorrow. Perhaps you should rest early tonight?” Her tone is sharp but in a way Arthur knows is not aimed at him.

Leave it his ever observant sister to give him an excuse to scoop up his servant and leave while not stepping on any toes.

“Yes, perhaps I will.” Arthur nods his thanks at her. “If that’s alright father.” He turns to his king.

“Yes I suppose that’s reasonable.” Uther slurs. It’s not like his father to drink too much but he doesn't have time to worry about that at the moment.

Arthur doesn’t hesitate, he stands up so harshly his chair nearly falls over. He advances on Sir Elias and his servant, his body tense with restraint keeping himself from ripping Merlin out of this prince’s grasp.

“Merlin,” Arthur calls once he’s close enough to be heard over the noise of the banquet that has gotten rather rowdy at this point.

His servant whips his head up, eyes wide and pleading. Sir Elias does not move his hand from Merlin's jaw however; and as Arthur approaches he can now see that the visiting prince’s other arm is wrapped around Merlin, his hand sitting snugly between the juncture of Merlin’s thigh and hip.

“I am to retire early.” It takes every ounce of control and upbringing to keep his voice calm and impartial but from the smile on Elias’ face he doubts he’s fully successful.

“Ah! Prince Arthur.” The prince finally looks up at him, “I didn’t realize he was yours.” There’s something about the way he says it that has Arthur doubting him. “He’s a rather lovely one.” He continues as he turns his attention back to Merlin, turning the servant’s chin towards him again, though Merlin’s eyes stay on Arthur until his head is turned too far.

“Yes well, we must be going.” Arthur's reply is terse.

“Are you sure you need him tonight? Perhaps you can give him the night off.” The prince turns just enough to see Arthur out of the corner of his eye.

“Afraid not.”

Thankfully most guests are too drunk or preoccupied to notice their interaction. But Arthur’s knights are watching, tense and ready to intervene on their friend's behalf if they must. They are the only ones who can see Arthur’s resolve starting to slip, the way his vein throbs on his forehead, how his muscles tense, ready to physically swipe Merlin away.

“Such a shame,” Elias sighs, “He has such a nice mouth on him too.” He drags his thumb just below Merlin’s bottom lip.

“Oh don’t I know it.” Arthur narrows his eyes, finally placing a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, pushing him gently off of Elias’ lap, he maneuvers the boy behind him.

Merlin’s cheeks turn another lovely shade of red, surely remembering their most recent escapade in the woods, meanwhile he can hear Gwaine snort a few feet away. Thankfully with Merlin’s usual snark, most people won’t see the true meaning of Arthur’s words.

“Well, perhaps you’ll have a night off before my leave, Merlin.” Elias smiles.

Merlin simply tucks his hands behind him and averts his eyes, acting as a perfect servant.

“Come Merlin, we have a long day tomorrow.” Arthur turns and starts stalking away, Merlin on his heels.

“See you at the tourney tomorrow!” Elias calls as the two walk away.

It isn't until they are out of the banquet hall that Arthur reaches behind him and grabs Merlin's arm, not even looking back as he picks up his pace, dragging Merlin behind him.

“I- I’m sorry Arth-”

“Don’t.” Arthur spits as they hurriedly make their way to the prince’s chambers.

Arthur all but throws his door open dragging Merlin inside. The prince immediately starts pacing, letting go of his servant as Merlin shuts the door.

“I’m sorry, Arthur.” Merlin tries again and is then hit with another wave of pain that he can’t help but groan out and clutch his stomach.

Arthur stops in his tracks and eyes Merlin. The silence stretches on until Merlin stands up straighter and starts to fidget, shifting his weight from one foot to the other before sighing, “You know I’m just a servant, I can’t-”

Arthur is on him before he can finish, pushing him against the door quicker Merlin can even register he had moved in the first place.

Arthur’s mouth is hot and urgent against his, the heat coming off Arthur is nearly overwhelming. He pulls back, dark eyes staring into Merlin’s. “You are not just a servant Merlin. You are mine.” Arthur growls out.

Arthur is momentarily taken aback as Merlin’s eyes flash that pretty pink he is quickly coming to love. The shock is able to ebb his anger minutely. While that wasn’t what he had in mind he supposes it’ll work.

Merlin stares at him similarly shocked as the pain fades.

Arthur grins wolfishly as he brings his mouth down on Merlin’s, forcing the younger’s lips open to greedily lick and bite at his mouth. The same pretty lips that were not all that long ago wrapped around his cock.

“Arthur,” Merlin arches into him as Arthur brings his hands to his hips.

“You are mine.” Arthur repeats just as savagely as the first time.

Merlin can’t help but whine at the words.

“I am going to make you mine.” Arthur moves down to Merlin's neck placing rough open mouthed kisses as he ruts his hips against Merlin. He slides his hands down to Merlin’s arse, the fabric of his trousers rough on Arthur’s palms “No one else is allowed to touch you, I don't even want anyone else looking at you.”

His tongue fervently assaults Merlin’s mouth again, he tastes of the honey cakes served at the banquet, the tart must have snuck one.

“Merlin.” Arthur snarls into his ear, his tongue dragging along the curve of his skin.

“Ngh?” is the only thing Merlin is able to get out.

He can feel Arthur’s smile before he pulls back looking Merlin in his eyes.

“I am going to make you mine, alright?” Arthur’s voice is gruff as his eyes dip down to his neck before tracing back up.

Merlin swallows and nods, anticipation building in his stomach. He’s nervous, the butterflies in his stomach swarm restlessly but it’s just as exciting.

“Use your words.” Arthur cups his cheek in a way much too intimate for someone just helping out a friend causing Merlin’s heart to stutter.

“Yes,” Merlin breathes out, leaning into the touch, “Gods yes.” Merlin dives forward kissing Arthur.

Arthur slides his hands to the loops in Merlin’s trousers and pulls his servant forward as he walks them towards his bed, never breaking the way their tongues solicitously move together. Merlin’s moans are small and needy as they make their way across the room.

When Arthur’s calves back into the bed he sits down and pulls Merlin onto his lap so roughly that they bounce on the well-stuffed down feathers.

Merlin eagerly grinds down against Arthur’s erection as he moves his mouth to the prince’s neck. Arthur groans and takes this moment to slide Merlin’s jacket off and it falls to the floor. Next is his neckerchief and God has he wanted to do this for so long.

The knot is more difficult than he expects and he can feel Merlin start to smile. Annoyed, Arthur pulls on his servant's hair roughly, ripping a delightful moan from Merlin before their mouths meet again and Arthur is finally able to get the damn knot undone.

Their mouths separate for just a moment as he lifts Merlin’s shirt up, making sure to drag his fingers up Merlin's chest.

The moment Merlin’s shirt is gone Arthur’s mouth is attacked by said manservant who starts unbuttoning the prince’s shirt with deft fingers. Arthur has to lean into Merlin to not be pushed down to the bed by the force of the younger's eagerness.

Once Arthur’s shirt is discarded he runs his hands through Merlin’s soft locks, keeping him just a hair's breadth away. “You are going to be mine.” His voice comes out gravelly, “I’m going to fuck you until you mold to my cock, no one else will be able to use you, you’ll be fit to me and me alone.” He bites Merlin’s lip as his servant moans, grinding forward.

“Yes, Arthur please.” Merlin whines, his heart beating frantically in his chest.

Arthur moves them around settling Merlin further up the bed so his head rests comfortably on the pillows.

Arthur would never be able to count the times he’s imagined this but Merlin looks so much better on his bed than he could have ever imagined. Splayed out on his red sheets, hair mussed, lips swollen, and eyes lidded. Arthur takes a moment to just admire Merlin, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the bulge in his trousers.

He dips down kissing Merlin passionately, their bare chests slide together as their tongues fight one other, sending flames licking through Arthur’s core.

Their clothed cocks rub together but it isn't nearly enough for either of them. Merlin spreads his legs in invitation, letting Arthur settle between them more comfortably.

“Remember our word?” Arthur asks as his hand trails down Merlin’s stomach, light touches tickling Merlin’s skin, his muscles contract under Arthur’s fingers as they head to his trouser laces.

Merlin’s eyes are hazy and it takes him a minute to process what Arthur is saying. “Yes, I remember, now get on with it prat.”

Arthur can’t help but snort, “Impatient are we?” He pulls at Merlin's laces and they easily come undone.

Merlin opens his mouth but Arthur can just tell he's going to say something petulant so instead the prince kisses him again as he tugs his trousers and small clothes down. Merlin lifts his hips helping Arthur get the fabric down.

Arthur sits back and admires the sight of Merlin again, this time fully nude, cock hard and pink, leaking precum onto his stomach.

Arthur runs his eyes up and down his best friend's body, memorizing every detail. He is sure this will be a moment he’ll wank to for God knows how long. But the lingering thought of someone else's hands on such a divine body, on his Merlin, reignites his displeasure.

“Arthur,” Merlin pouts, but before he can continue Arthur leans forward and roughly grips Merlin's jaw in his hand. Merlin’s eyes go wide in surprise.

“Merlin.” His dark tone sends shivers down Merlin’s spine, goosebumps erupt on his arms and chest despite the warm air around them. “ I am going to take. My. Time. With you.”

Arthur grips Merlin’s cock with a strong hand, just tight enough for it to be uncomfortable, causing Merlin to gasp and buck up into him.

“I am going to do what I want with what is mine. And I want to take my time with you. We have all night.” He ends soothingly, brushing his other hand against Merlin’s cheek.

Merlin nods but Arthur can still see the small shimmer of petulance in his eyes. Arthur narrows his gaze and sits up just long enough to reach over to get the vial of oil out of his bedside drawer.

When Arthur resettles, Merlin’s lips are still turned down in a fraction of a pout.

Arthur scoffs and rolls his eyes, unlacing his own trousers. “What?” Arthur’s voice is terse and demanding and Merlin knows in that moment there’s nothing he won’t do for his sovereign. There’s no way he will be able to ever go back to anything less than this, than being anything other than inexorably Arthur’s. If only Arthur would actually get to it and fuck him already.

“What?” Merlin deadpans just to further annoy Arthur.

Arthur pulls his breeches and small clothes off, throwing them from the bed. Merlin stares at him, taking Arthur’s figure in. He truly looks like a statue the ancients used to worship come to life, chiseled to perfection. It does nothing to settle Merlin’s impatience.

“I think,” Arthur says as he grabs Merlin’s ankle rubbing his thumb over the bone that juts out. “I need to train you better. Perhaps another punishment? More spankings? Lashings? Flogging? Maybe I’ll have you sit in the corner until you learn to be patient.” Arthur sneers, dropping his ankle to lean over Merlin just enough so their cocks brush lightly.

“No! Please Arthur, I’ll- I’ll be good.” Merlin cries out tilting his head to the side in a show of submission that has Arthur’s head dizzy. Later on when Merlin is no longer high and wanton he will be rather embarrassed by his words but right now they only urge him on more, the idea of fully being Arthur’s sends blissful tingles through his body. For Arthur to properly use his power and put Merlin in his place, the thought alone has Merlin all but begging.

“You fucking better be.” Arthur oils up his fingers before biting into Merlin’s exposed neck almost hard enough to draw blood.

Merlin cants his hips up, rubbing their cocks more firmly together and Arthur can’t help but groan.

Arthur rubs his oiled finger against Merlin’s furl, it’s so tight Arthur can’t even try to breach.

“Relax, Merlin.” Arthur coos, leaning over to kiss the boy again. They move slowly against each other, Arthur doing his best to push his reassurance into Merlin. “Trust me, I’ll take care of you. I always take care of the things that belong to me.” Arthur kisses down his servant's jaw.

Merlin has the urge to say that he is the one who takes care of Arthur’s belongings, but he holds his tongue, knowing what the prince is getting at.

He can feel Merlin relax beneath him.

“Mmm good.” Arthur purrs, sliding his first finger in slowly just to the first knuckle.

Merlin makes a slightly strangled noise, he’s been curious but has never taken the initiative to finger himself, and it’s a strange feeling, a little overwhelming. But the idea that it’s Arthur inside him overpowers his nervousness. Merlin relaxes even further, one hand coming up to hold onto Arthur’s arm that’s braced next to his head on the bed.

“That’s it.” Arthur praises and rewards Merlin with a searing kiss and before Merlin knows it Arthur has his first finger fully seated inside of him. When Arthur starts moving Merlin can’t help but tense again at the strange feeling, not bad, just new. “It’s okay,” Arthur nuzzles against his jaw.

It takes a bit but by the time Arthur is thrusting two fingers in and out of him, Merlin starts meeting his movements with his hips. “Ready for another?” Arthur asks.

“Yes- feels, good?” Merlin meets his eyes from where he had turned his face into the pillow.

“Is that a question?” Arthur chuckles. “Don’t worry I’ll make this one feel even better. Alright?”

“Alright.” Merlin smiles shyly, not really sure what Arthur means but he trusts his prince.

After adding more oil and coaxing Merlin to relax again, Arthur is able to wriggle in a third finger.

This one stings more than the others, Merlin sucks air in between his teeth from the discomfort. Arthur keeps pushing in slowly, the base of his fingers are thicker and Merlin tries to pull away just slightly.

“Shhh it’s okay Merlin. Breathe.”

Merlin gasps wondering when he stopped breathing.

“There we go, good boy.” Arthur’s voice is smooth as satin.

The praise gets another gasp out of Merlin with the way it has sparks of lightning fizzling in his stomach and the base of his skull. But when Arthur starts moving his fingers again the stinging sensation comes back and a whimper escapes his throat.

Arthur leans back just enough so he can balance on his knees, moving his arm that’s next to Merlin’s head to the boy's cock to soothe and distract from some of the pain as he prods around for a certain location.

Merlin’s hole is just starting to give to the intrusion of his third finger when his back arches, eyes wide and an absolutely filthy moan falls from his lips.

Arthur’s chest swells with pride. He had been nervous since he hadn’t been with another male in quite a while, but he’s still got it.

“Wha- What?” Is all Merlin is able to ask, his voice cracking.

“Feel good?” Arthur asks smugly, exuding confidence in his ever pretentious and prattish way but Merlin couldn’t care less at the moment.

“Again.” Merlin pleads eagerly gripping the forearm currently working him open, he can feel Arthur’s muscles move and flex as he works his fingers.

Arthur laughs brightly, so much so that he has to lean over, shoulders shaking, when he looks back Merlin is pouting and he has to fight down another round of laughter.

“God you’re so adorable.” Arthur beams down at him, he leans down kissing Merlin affectionately before his brain can catch up to what he’s said.

Merlin’s heart clenches, both in joy and sadness, knowing that this will have to end eventually. But his emotions are quickly wiped from his mind as Arthur touches there again and Merlin sees stars.

By the time Arthur deems him ready, Merlin has been writhing and begging for an arduous amount of time (though truly it wasn’t that long).

Arthur slicks up his hand again with oil and strokes himself, generously coating his cock.

“Arthur.” Merlin whines, impudence lacing his tone in his impatience.

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice is as sharp as the glare he sends the boy.

Arthur can feel the urge to punish Merlin buzzing through his veins, but he’s not going to, not this time. He needs to go slow to not hurt Merlin, you’d think as the physician's apprentice he’d understand that. Arthur voices the thought teasingly.

“You said it yourself,” Merlin smirks, “I do like it when it hurts.”

The prince’s eyes darken, filling with dangerous intent and Merlin wonders how far he’ll be able to push him.

“Not like this. I don’t like damaging my things.” Arthur says sincerely as he lines up with Merlin’s loosened hole.

While Merlin was quite eager to have the source of his affection inside of him he wasn’t prepared for what it would actually feel like. Even with the oil and Arthur working him open it still stings rather unpleasantly.

Merlin can feel Arthur slowly pushing his way inside, his cock is thick, throbbing, wet, and too much.

“Arthur.” Merlin grits out and moves his hands to the prince’s chest.

Arthur stops immediately, worry clear on his face. “Are you okay?”

“Hurts.” Merlin’s voice is tense.

“Okay, it’s okay.” Arthur soothes, “You have to relax, Merlin.”

Merlin’s face is scrunched up in displeasure, Arthur reaches and runs his fingers through the raven’s hair. Merlin relaxes at the touch but not enough, Arthur could swear he is losing circulation with how tight Merlin is squeezing his cock.

Arthur leans over even more, trying to not move his hips, as he kisses Merlin slow and deep. Merlin thankfully relaxes under him again and Arthur slides in just a bit more from the lessening resistance.

“Fuck, Merlin,” Arthur groans into his neck sucking on the skin low enough where his bruises won't show with his neckerchief.

Merlin moans and lifts his hips slightly, encouraging Arthur to keep going.

It's a slow process, Arthur is practically shaking from the force of his restraint by the time he is fully seated in Merlin. Arthur moves back to the boy's mouth devouring every breath and moan to escape his throat. He pulls out a quarter of the way and slides back in letting Merlin get used to his presence.

Merlin’s hands snake around his shoulders, blunt fingernails digging into Arthur’s skin in a pleasant kind of hurt.

Merlin’s pain starts to pall, yielding to a pleasant feeling of friction and fullness.

“Arthur.” Merlin breathes out, eyes fluttering back open to see Arthur looking back down at him intensely.

Arthur grins, dragging his hips all the way back so that the head of his cock rests just inside of his servant before snapping his hips forward, causing both of them to groan out in pleasure. Merlin starts moving his hips meeting Arthur thrust for thrust and Arthur’s eyes roll back in rapture.

Arthur’s thrusts pick up speed until Merlin’s expansive vocabulary is reduced to ‘ah, ah, ah,’, ‘Arthur’, and a litany of curses.

“Look at you Merlin. Taking my cock so well.” Arthur’s voice is strained and breathy from exertion. Merlin keens, the side of his mouth quirking as his lust blown eyes watch Arthur. “You like taking my cock? Like pleasing your prince?”

“Don’t want- ngh- to inflate- ah- your ego any further.”

Arthur’s insides burn at the challenge. He grips Merlin’s hair hard and yanks his head back, forcing Merlin to expose his neck farther. Merlin’s nails dig into his shoulders sharper as he arches his back.

“Can’t help but think you’re- mmph- enjoying this quite a bit,” Arthur playfully eggs on as he shifts so Merlin’s hips are raised slightly higher. At his next thrust, Merlin yelps in pleasure, clenching around Arthur’s cock.

“Arth-Arthur!” Merlin cries out as Arthur pounds into his prostate over and over again.

Merlin reaches for his cock but his hand is batted away by the prat and a beautiful distressed whine escapes the warlock.

“Ah, ah” Arthur tuts, he thrusts harshly with each sound. “No touching until you admit how much you like this, how much you love getting fucked by me.”

It only takes another two thrusts against the boy’s prostate for him to relent. “Angh, angh Ar-Arthur, fuck, so good, feels so good -ah- love you fucking me, love your cock -nngh- inside me.”

“Good.” Arthur praises, finally grabbing at Merlin’s achingly hard cock, Merlin nearly shouts at the sensation. “Because you are mine. No one else gets to have you like this, no other lords or princes. Not even the King can have you. You belong to me Merlin.”

“Yes Arthur! Ngh- all- all yours.” Merlin moans out just as his body tightens, the pressure building in his ballocks before he spills with a shout onto Arthur’s hand and his own chest.

Merlin tightens around Arthur’s cock and the prince knows he’s gone. He’s quick to flood his best friend full of his seed with a gravelly moan, his hand stumbling over Merlin’s cock as he finds his own release.

They stay there for a moment when Arthur’s cock gives another unexpected spurt of cum that has the prince feeling lightheaded.

Merlin gasps at the feeling, he isn't sure why but he hadn’t expected the cum to feel so warm in his arse, though it isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

Arthur sinks down onto Merlin, his servant's cum smearing between them.

A gust of air is pushed out of Merlin’s lungs from the new weight atop him. He pats at Arthur’s side but his arm moves like a limp piece of straw, Merlin nearly laughs at the feeling.

Arthur pulls out with a profane sounding squelch. Merlin whines at the new sensation of emptiness and cum leaking out of him.

“Arthur.” Merlin pats his side again a little harsher.

“Hmm?” Arthur doesn’t move, face resting in the crook of Merlin’s neck.

“Heavy.” Merlin complains wiggling underneath him.

Arthur snorts before rolling off of him to the other side of the bed. “Are you calling me fat?”

Merlin chuckles and it might be one of the most beautiful sounds he’s ever heard. Arthur smiles at him dopily, uncaring, basking in the afterglow. He takes his moment to just look at Merlin. His flush that goes down to the center of his chest where it gets splotchy, his hair that is wet with sweat around the edges, his kiss swollen lips and glassy lidded eyes that look back at him.

They sit there a while just looking at each other, enjoying the quietness. Arthur isn’t sure how much time goes by when Merlin’s eyes start to drift closed, soft smile still on his face.

“Hey,” Arthur nudges his foot against Merlin's leg and the servant startles at the contact.

Arthur rolls his eyes at his jumpy best friend “we need to clean up.”

“Right.” Merlin speaks for the first time since they finished, his voice comes out croaky.

He moves to get up but Arthur is quick to ease him back down with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll get it.”

Merlin’s jaw drops and eyes widen as the statement faintly shakes him out of his headspace. “You? Doing any sort of cleaning? Now I know I must be dreaming.”

“That good ey?” Arthur smirks as he peels himself off the bed. He starts toward the basin of water next to Merlin’s side of the bed.

Merlin rolls his eyes but his blush gives him away, “ I just know there is no world in which Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot would offer to clean up when I offered.”

Arthur tries and fails to hide his smile as he wrings out a cloth before wiping down his own chest. The water trickles down the crevice of his clavicle and down his stomach muscles, thankfully the prince is too focused on the task to notice the way Merlin's spent cock gives an interested twitch.

“Well usually you're able to walk.” Arthur raises his eyebrows suggestively.

“I can walk.” Merlin pouts confusedly.

“No you can’t, Merlin.” Arthur states as if it’s a fact.

The tone of Arthur’s voice grates on Merlin the way he does when he’s being a pompous prat.

So what else can Merlin do other than prove him wrong?

Merlin pulls himself into a sitting position. It takes a little more effort than usual and a wave of sore pain singes up his spine, but it’s nowhere near the pain of the spell so he hides it easily.

That’s what he thinks at least, but Arthur watches amusedly as his servant’s brow furrows. “Merlin, seriously, don't hurt yourself, you have nothing to prove.” His tone is light but he knows better than to try to stop Merlin when he’s like this. He’ll just have to learn the hard way.

Merlin swings his legs over the edge of the bed, they feel rather tingly but other than that he knows he’ll be able to stand just fine. Arthur moves out of the way of his legs but he is truly just getting in a better position to catch him when Merlin inevitably falls.

Merlin carefully leans, putting some weight on his feet before fully standing up, however the ground starts to rise to meet him as his legs give out with a yelp. Arthur’s there to catch him by the underarms before he can hit the floor.

“You were saying?” Arthur’s grin is rather infuriating and Merlin’s face heats up with embarrassment.

“It’s fine,” Arthur chuckles at his manservant's expression as he eases him back to the bed. “It’s normal, especially for men. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Another bout of pain surges up as Merlin is placed back onto the bed.

“Here, lie back, I’ll clean you.”

It’s a very intimate and embarrassing experience at the same time, having Arthur clean him off. The wet cool cloth feels good on his chest but when Arthur carefully cleans his arse Merlin can’t help but squirm in embarrassment, thankfully Arthur doesn’t tease him about it.

Once done Arthur tosses the cloth haphazardly on the floor for Merlin to clean up tomorrow. He grabs his smalls and tugs them back on before tossing Merlin’s back to him.

Merlin carefully slides his smalls on as Arthur moves to get back on the other side of the bed.

“Uhm, Arthur?”

Arthur turns to him as he pulls his legs up onto the bed. “Hmm?”

“How am I supposed to get back to my chambers if I can't even walk?”

Arthur stares at him for a moment, truly not believing Merlin to be that daft, but when he doesn't reply Arthur nearly smacks himself on the forehead.

“Obviously Merlin, you’re staying here.”

“Wha- Arthur, I can’t, the servants will talk.”

“Oh please if anyone saw you enter my chambers earlier they’d assume you’re just doing your job.” Arthur racks his brain for a better reason for Merlin to stay. “Plus!” He adds quickly, “There would be more rumors if you left at this hour anyway.” Arthur pulls the blankets over both of them.

There’s a long pause as Arthur lies himself down and gets comfy while Merlin’s brain is practically spewing smoke out of his ears.

“Merlin,” Arthur says much softer, “it’s alright, let’s just go to bed.”

The soft sleepy look Arthur gives him is more than enough for Merlin to acquiesce. Damn his bleeding heart. “Alright, yeah.” Merlin moves onto his side, facing Arthur, as the prince watches him properly settle in.

It’s not that Merlin doesn’t want to sleep here with Arthur, quite the opposite actually. He wants it so bad, his desire for this to be real is unyielding. It’s a yearning that constricts his soul. He aches to move over and roll into his sovereign's arms and to be loved, not just carnally. But he can’t, there are so many reasons he can't, his magic and Arthur being a prince being the two main ones. He knows this can't go anywhere, he knows that but every fiber of his being and those interwoven in his magic make him feel like this is right. That this is how he and Arthur are supposed to complete each other. The fates are not kind.

Little does he know Arthur wants nothing more in that moment than to pull Merlin into his chest and bestow his divine lips with countless gentle and quiet kisses. To tenderly run his fingers through his hair and down his back. To caress his cheek and whisper honeyed words into his skin. To promulgate his wretched and utter need for his best friend’s unfettered affection. To get on his knees and worship the unmitigated benevolence of his servant.

But that’s not what this is about.

“Goodnight, Arthur.”

“Goodnight, Merlin.”

Gags
A gag is a device used to force a person's quietness.
This can be anything from a simple cloth to ball-gags
typically used on animals for mouth surgery.

Merlin’s initial rating: 7

The tournament had gotten rained out and was thus swapped around with the council meetings. Typically they’d hold the tourney first so any harsh feelings from the meetings would not affect the participant's performances. (Aka try to maul each other to death).

Thankfully the meetings went rather well. Uther and Clarion agreed to join forces against the rising Saxons, who were quite active in Northumbria and no doubt would try to advance to Camelot.

And though the meetings went very well and there was a tourney today, one of Arthur’s favorite pastimes, the prince still found himself between sulking and seething as he went about his duties.

This is because yesterday morning he had woken up in his bed alone, not only that but he was being shaken awake by George. Arthur’s heart had sunk at the implications of Merlin leaving and then choosing not to attend to him. That was until George had informed him Merlin had been summoned by Uther.

In a panic Arthur threw on his clothes, not allowing George to assist, before all but storming into the throne room where Uther was already discussing matters with a few of his councilmen.

“Father, I understand you summoned my manservant?” Arthur asked, trying to sound impassive but he was panicking on the inside.

“Ah yes,” Uther turned his attention to his son, his mouth turned downwards at Arthur’s unkempt appearance. “Prince Elias, Clarion’s youngest son, has seemed to take a liking to the boy and had requested to be attended to by him.”

Arthur was filled by a blinding rage but took a deep breath trying to keep the anger off of his face.

Uther continued, “Though I can’t see why, he’s quite the bumbling fool, I don't know how he seems to garner the favor of so many.”

Arthur knows exactly why, the idiot practically oozes charisma.

“Father, the tourney is tomorrow, I need my manservant to help me with my armor.”

“I’m sure George will be able to help you just fine. Now, Arthur I have more important things to do than argue over some servants. See that you don’t trouble Prince Elias with this, it’s only for a couple of days.” Uther waves a hand dismissing him.

Arthur then had to spend all of yesterday watching Merlin attend to the visiting prince during their meetings and then again at dinner.

That’s how he finds himself in his tourney tent with George helping put on his armor.

Arthur is is getting more and more annoyed as no other servant is able to get his armor to fit quite as well as Merlin does. And while George isn’t doing it wrong, it just isn’t the same as the way Merlin does it. There’s something about the way Merlin does his armor up that makes him feel safer than anyone else who has done it before.

The lack of conversation is unnerving as well, he’s grown so accustomed to Merlin’s prattle he hadn’t noticed how much the boy was able to distract him from his pre-tournament nerves.

“Sire?” George’s voice cut him out of his thoughts.

He is standing there stoic as ever, holding out his sword for the prince.

Arthur takes his sword and sheaths it at his hip, “That’ll be all George.”

“Of course, sire.” George exits the tent with a bow.

It isn’t until after their break for lunch that Arthur manages to finally catch a glimpse of Merlin dutifully following Elias into his tent.

As much as Arthur wants to run forward and fetch his servant, he wouldn't want word to get back to his father, who knows what Uther would do if Arthur acted ‘out of turn’ for a mere servant.

The first few rounds had been easy enough, as they usually are. Arthur did his part and put on a show for the crowd as always, before subduing each opponent with practiced ease. The next rounds would be a bit more difficult, he was sure to face one or two of his own knights. Not that Arthur couldn’t best them, but it was usually far more difficult since they know exactly how he fights.

And as much as Arthur loathes to admit it, he’s quite distracted today. He can’t help but think of Merlin and their night spent together, that and what Elias could be demanding from his servant. If he so much as looks at Merlin the wrong way Arthur will not hesitate to cut the man's fingers off. How dare he monopolize the Prince's manservant. Not that Elias isn't also a prince, but he is no heir to the throne, and Merlin isn't even his manservant to begin with! It’s ridiculous really.

“Sire,” George announces his presence waiting for acceptance to enter the tent.

“Enter.” Arthur has to stop himself from blanching the word.

“Your next fight will be against Sir Elyan.”

“Ah!” A rush of adrenaline pumps through his chest, “Finally, a real fight.” Arthur smiles but it quickly falls from his face as George simply stares at the ground like a proper servant.

Arthur isn’t sure how much longer he can do this.

Elyan puts up a rather good fight but Arthur is able to get him with a hit to the leg and trip him up. Footwork has always been one of Elyan’s weaker points and Arthur is sure to use it against him.

Afterwards when Arthur learns that his next opponent will be Prince Elias, he is elated. Finally, he gets to put that man in his place, that place being far away from Merlin. However, that meant Elias had beaten Lancelot, and that’s slightly concerning considering Lancelot is one of their best swordsmen.

Once it’s his turn Arthur saunters up to the gate waiting for the current match to end so he can get announced and take what will surely be his most rewarding victory in a while. George silently follows and waits beside him in case Arthur needs anything in the meantime.

The current battle is an intense one, Percival is fighting one of the Northumbrian knights. While Percy is large and powerful the Northumbrian knight is lithe and quick.

Arthur’s attention is drawn away by chortling and the clanging of armor approaching from behind.

“Ah Sir Arthur, I was hoping to be able to meet you on the battlefield!” Elias smiles as he trots up to the gate, Merlin following in tow lackadaisically.

Arthur ignores the prince, choosing instead to eye Merlin for any marks or anything out of place, but the servant merely smiles back.

“Prince Arthur?” Elias asks.

“Yes, right, I’m sure it will be a good fight.” Arthur hardens his gaze at the visiting prince.

The smug smile on Elias’ face and the mischievous twinkle in his eyes puts Arthur on edge.

“And I must thank you, for allowing your personal manservant to attend to me. He is quite the entertaining lad!”

Arthur sees Merlin playfully roll his eyes out of the corner of his periphery and Arthur’s stomach churns.

Merlin chimes in and his bright voice is nearly music to Arthur’s ears. “That’s just because you have a better sense of humor than most nobles, if it were anyone else, I’m sure I would have been flogged within the first minutes of your service.”

Elias laughs before turning his attention back to Arthur, “I’m actually quite surprised you keep Merlin around, I wouldn’t expect Uther’s son to be so… reposed.”

Merlin snorts interrupting before Arthur can speak, “Oh please, when we first met I tried to punch him and he threw me into the cells.”

Elias laughs heartily and Arthur can’t fight off a small smile at the memory.

“I hope he doesn't throw you in there anymore.” Elias half teases.

“No, not anymore, perhaps the stocks every now and then but-”

“Nonsense!” The visiting prince looks between them, “Merlin, if you were to come back to Northumbria with me, I’d surely never treat you in such a way. You would be held in very high regard as one of my favorites.”

Merlin and Arthur know that the servant is jesting since Arthur hasn’t sent him to the stocks in over a year; but the proposal still ruptures a part of Arthur's chest at the idea that Merlin might say yes. He’s more frightened in that moment than he has been for any tournament ever, even his first one which had him nearly sick on his boots at the time.

His fear is squashed out though with Merlin’s quick reply.

“No. I am flattered by the offer but,” Merlin shifts his gaze to Arthur, “Arthur is a good master and an even greater man, I am honored to serve him.” Merlin looks away with a light pink flush on his cheeks.

It’s at that moment the crowd roars to life, the Northumbrian knight standing above Percy. It takes a moment for the noise to register in Arthur’s head, too distracted from Merlin’s words.

“Well, I suppose that’s my cue.” Prince Elias smiles brightly, “Good luck, Prince Arthur.” The blue-caped prince trots into the arena waving at the crowd.

Elias knows he’s not the favored to win, clearly the crowd of Camelot would want their own prince to win, understandably. Though he is going to put his best foot forward to try to impress his father (and perhaps a certain servant). While adept with a sword, his eldest brother Rhys has always been able to outmatch him. If he is able to best Prince Arthur, renowned swordsman of Camelot, surely his father would be impressed.

Though from the stories he’s heard from Merlin, he’d say Arthur seems like a rather good chap, quite the contrast to his father. Uther is known for his harsh and cruel ways of ruling, unwilling to form alliances unless Camelot blatantly gets the better end of the deal. Not that that was an issue yesterday as Camelot had agreed to help Northumbria and join forces. Surely Uther only agreed because the Saxons would sooner or later make their way to Camelot and he’d rather keep the fighting out of his land for as long as possible.

After bowing to the Kings, the Northumbrian prince looks over just before Arthur enters through the opened gate. He sees as Merlin gives Camelot’s prince a reassuring nod of his head and a small smile. The interaction sticks out to Elias as it isn’t the typical look of ‘good luck’ one would expect before a fight, but rather the look is one of indescribable surety, of unwavering confidence, one that says ‘You don’t need luck’.

It’s then Arthur saunters into the arena met with the raucous cheers of his people, his gait is brimmed with a hubristic confidence and an underlying smugness that had not been there during his earlier fights.

After one simple wave to his people and a bow to the kings he stands at the ready in front of Elias. A chill runs down the spine of the Northumbrian Prince at the aura Prince Arthur is radiating, malice rolls off him in waves that are nearly tangible. His gaze is dark and deadly, but it’s not the fire of battle, there's something else there, much greener than anger.

A piece falls into place and Elias can’t help but raise his brows in surprise but his focus is snapped back as the countdown begins.

Elias shifts his weight to the balls of his feet readying to strike, knowing Arthur rarely attempts to strike first. The other prince is a man of finesse who likes to figure out and learn his opponents first and once he finds a weak spot he’ll hone in on it until you fall. If Elias is quick and brutal enough he has a chance to take Camelot’s prince down, but in a battle of stamina, the blonde surely would out match him.

The countdown stops and just as Elias rears his sword back to swing- Arthur moves quicker, striking first, he hits the visiting prince in a weak spot of armor. Using the pommel of his sword Arthur brutishly hits the area just below his underarm and the air is knocked out of the visiting prince who in the same moment finds himself unfooted and facing skywards as the tip of a sword is lowered onto his chest plate.

Arthur’s face is a mix of anger and cocksuredness as he looms over, blocking out the sun from Elais’ eyes.

The crowd who had just a moment ago been eagerly cheering has gone deathly silent at the brazen show of power from their prince. Even the kings are stunned into a confused silence.

That is until one person starts applauding, Elias had expected to look over and see Merlin, but the servant was standing there just as shocked. Rather it’s a knight of Camelot who has rather luxurious hair and a shit-eating grin on his face.

After a moment more applause erupts around them. If Elias wasn’t so close he wouldn’t have noticed it, but Prince Arthur puffs his chest out a little bit further and lifts his head a little bit higher. His eyes still hold a burning challenge, as if daring him to make another move, and the other pieces fall into place.

He never had a chance of convincing Merlin to return to Northumbria with him.

It’s late afternoon and their second break of the day just before the finals. Unsurprisingly to Merlin, Arthur will be facing the eldest son of Northumbria. Thankfully with Elias out of the bracket, Merlin doesn’t have much to do at the moment other than minimum duties.

Merlin is serving Elias with a pitcher of water as the prince talks about his home country. It does sound like a rather lovely place, filled with interesting plants and wildlife Merlin has never heard of. According to Elias, the climate is significantly colder but they have glorious mountain ranges and trees much taller than those in Camelot.

It’s then Merlin feels it once again, the throbbing pain in his abdomen. It hits him much more painfully than the previous times. He places the decanter of water down on the table doing his best to focus on the visiting prince’s words.

It’s only a moment or two before Merlin finds himself swaying at another sharp stabbing pain, he can’t help but scrunch up his face. When he opens his eyes though he finds himself on the floor with a very concerned prince hovering above him.

“I’ll go get the physician.” Elias makes to leave but Merlin is able to grab his wrist just in time.

“No- no get Arthur.”

There’s a moment of confusion before the prince replies, “Merlin I think you’re confused, I’ll go get the physician, you’re clearly not okay.”

“No, wait please-” Merlin tries to convince him but a pained groan escapes him and the prince slips out of his grasp.

Just as Elias is about to exit the tent he is nearly run over by Camelot’s prince who is seething, sword at the ready.

“Prince Arthur!” The Northumbrian prince startles.

Arthur roughly grabs him by the collar of his hauberk after seeing Merlin on the ground. “What did you do to him?!” Arthur’s voice is harsh and demanding.

Arthur had heard Merlin’s distress from his own tent not far away and was on his feet before he could even register what he was doing.

“Nothing! He just fell over!” Elias scrambles out of his hold, “Where’s the physician's chambers? We must get him.”

It takes a second for Arthur to process his words through his anger but realization hits him like a brick.

“He’s busy.” Arthur shoulders past the prince to kneel down at Merlin’s side who manages to look at him briefly before another wave of pain forces his eyes closed.

“Well Merlin is clearly in pain! I’m sure he’ll take time to see his apprentice!” Elias raises his voice and it only aggravates Arthur further.

“It’s okay,” Arthur fights to keep his voice calm, “I keep a spare tincture of Merlin’s in my tent.” Arthur shuffles his arms around Merlin to haul the lad up to his feet.

Merlin leans all of his weight onto his prince as a pained whine comes from low in his throat. The smell of Arthur comforts him a little at least, the familiar scent of armor polish, leather, and the smell of sunny grass that always seems to stick to the prince.

“Is he ill?” The concern would be welcomed if it were anyone but Sir Elias speaking.

“He- has an ailment.” Arthur deludes hoping it’s enough to stop the prince’s questioning.

“Ah- I see, let me help you walk him over.”

“Oh no that’s not necessary, I can’t ask a guest to do such a thing.”

Elias opens his mouth to protest but Arthur continues. “I can take care of Merlin, he will be deposed for the rest of the day however, possibly longer. I will assign our best servant to you in the meantime.”

“Very well, if there’s anything I can do to help, I’m more than willing.”

“Understood.” Arthur grits out, this conversation already much too long for his liking. Merlin nearly falls again at another bout of pain but Arthur steadies him. “Thank you, Prince Elias.”

Arthur steps out of the tent supporting nearly all of Merlin’s weight and they hobble over to his tent.

Arthur has never been so grateful to not see George, and that’s saying something. As soon as the tent flap closes Arthur is on Merlin, his lips fervent with the pent up tension of the past day and a half.

Merlin relaxes against him the pain flagging at their contact and the servant's eyes flutter. Arthur coerces his mouth open with a slide of his tongue as he walks them further into the tent, hands gripping Merlin’s waist now that he can walk on his own.

“Arthur,” Merlin’s breath is hot against his lips.

Arthur plunges his tongue back into his servant's mouth, bringing a hand to the back of his head to keep him there. Merlin moans softly at the action and grinds his hips forward against Arthur’s leg. Arthur’s upper thighs hit the table in his tent and they come to a halt.

“Arthur,” Merlin tries once again but Arthur attacks his mouth until he can feel Merlin smiling against him.

“Miss me that much?” Merlin teases when he can finally catch a breath.

“Oh please, Merlin. Last I checked you’re the one who needs me.” Arthur replies cheekily.

And while that is true, on multiple levels, Merlin would rather not think about that at the moment. “Arthur, we can’t… not here.” If they were to do really much of anything there’s no doubt they’d be heard through the canvas of the tent.

“Oh don’t be such a girl’s petticoat,” Arthur moves to kiss Merlin's neck dragging his hands down to Merlin’s thighs. “It’s not like we have much of a choice anyway.”

Merlin knows he’s right, it's not like they can just mosey up to either of their chambers, Arthur still has the final round left. But Merlin’s certain he’ll die of embarrassment if George is to walk in on them. Not to mention he would most definitely report his findings to Uther, and Merlin can’t cast any spells this close to Arthur.

“It’s fine Merlin, I’ll take care of you.” Arthur whispers breathily against his ear, knowing full well how to keep his servant quiet. Damn him for being so good at this. Merlin’s been thinking about Arthur nonstop since they slept together. He’s glad Arthur was his first, he just wishes it could have actually meant something… though he is thankful it had felt as good as it did.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, the way Arthur had opened him, the way he had fully filled him up and fucked him so deliciously. The way Arthur had spilt inside of him. Merlin needed it.

“Fine.” Merlin grumbles half heartedly.

With his best friend's consent, Arthur spins them around, now pinning the back of Merlin’s thighs against the table before eagerly descending on his mouth.

“Arthur.” Merlin whines impatiently against his lips. Arthur makes a mental note to teach the boy some patience soon. However, today is not that day. Arthur has been waiting for this since they shared his bed the other night and now that he finally has his Merlin again he won’t be letting go anytime soon.

Without replying Arthur spins Merlin around and grabs the back of his neck before grinding his hips into Merlin’s pert arse. Panting, Merlin pushes his hips back against Arthur’s growing hardness and the prince groans lowly.

“Leave it to you,” Arthur’s voice rumbles next to Merlin’s ear as he pushes his body fully against the slimmer man's back, the table digs into Merlin’s legs, “to be lent out to another noble just when I’ve made you mine.”

“I didn’t mean-.”

“Did he touch you?” Arthur can’t help but ask, the only other thing he’s been able to think about other than their recent tumble. If that man so much as looked at Merlin wrong Arthur would do unspeakable things to him. Unfortunately, he’d have to keep him alive or risk an all out war with Northumbria, but there are no rules against disfigurement.

“No, no he didn’t-” Merlin is cut off by Arthur shoving him down by the neck, forcing Merlin to bend over the table until his cheek is squished against the rough wooden surface.

“Arthur?” Merlin asks trepidatiously when the prince doesn’t say anything and simply holds him against the table.

Arthur takes a moment, his anxiety wearing off knowing his Merlin hasn't been touched by another. Only because Merlin is his, no other reason. He can’t help the way his eyes drift down to where his own hips meet Merlin’s arse and another spike of arousal shoots through him before he rubs his groin against the swell of Merlin’s rump slowly, pushing Merlin into the table even more.

Merlin gasps as the table digs further into his thighs but it’s a satisfying kind of pain. Arthur’s hands come to his waist as he rucks up Merlin’s shirt just enough so he can feel the boy's heated skin under his hands.

There’s another swell of pain in Merlin’s abdomen and he sucks in a sharp breath. The pain isn’t as strong as it was before, thanks to Arthur’s ministrations, but what they are doing doesn’t seem to be enough.

“Merlin?” He feels Arthur freeze behind him.

“Pain, need more. Arthur, please.” Merlin cants his hips back against Arthur.

“Okay, okay.” Arthur leans over, pressing his weight into Merlin’s back once more as he kisses the area between Merlin’s neckerchief and his hair. “Don’t forget our word.”

Merlin nods, doing his best to look back at Arthur but given the angle he can barely see the prince out of the corner of his eye. Arthur continues to pepper the small expanse of skin in kisses as he reaches around and fiddles with the strings of Merlin's trousers. Once the knot is undone Arthur kicks at Merlin’s booted feet, getting him to spread his legs a bit more before pulling his breeches down around his knees, quickly followed by his small clothes.

As much as Merlin knows he needs this, the position makes him feel rather vulnerable. He is fully on display for Arthur and unlike the other night, there is plenty of light for Arthur to see everything. Merlin is hit by a wave of self consciousness, he can feel his face heat up against the coolness of the table. It’s an emotion he doesn't feel very often, as overall he is a rather confident young man. He plays his part as a fool when needed and with that comes little room for shame. He squeezes his eyes shut trying to will away his shyness but it doesn't work.

Arthur stops his kisses but before he pulls away he nuzzles the back of Merlin’s hair, the black tresses soft against his nose. It’s an intimate gesture that sticks out to Merlin, Arthur has done such things a couple times now, he’ll do something soft or borderline affectionate and Merlin’s heart can’t help but leap in hope that he knows is rather pitiful.

“Stay just like this, don’t move.” Arthur’s voice is gravelly in a way that warms Merlin’s insides.

Merlin listens, wanting to get on with this before someone prances into the tent to see Merlin in this extremely compromising position. But Arthur pulls away fully, not touching the servant at all, Merlin strains his eyes trying to see where Arthur went, but with his head on the table he can only see a small section of the tent. He turns his face to the other side, the table even cooler on this side of his face, it feels quite nice, and now he can see Arthur.

The prince is messing up the pile of his day clothes that were sitting in a nice folded pile, courtesy of George no doubt. He reaches into his trouser pocket and pulls out a vial with familiar looking contents.

“You brought oil to your tourney tent?” Merlin asks, voice lilted with mirth.

Arthur turns and glares at him, his gaze steely in a way that Merlin has recently started to find rather exciting.

“I told you not to move.” Arthur’s voice is sharp.

Well, yes, he did say that. But Merlin merely turned his head, he’s still in the same position, he didn’t move.

“I didn’t move. I just turned to see what you were doing.”

Arthur pauses, still in Merlin’s line of sight, and raises a disbelieving eyebrow at the boy. “And turning is not a form of movement?”

Merlin opens his mouth before closing it again, yes he supposes turning could be considered movement. Okay, thinking about it, it most definitely is movement, but that’s not what he thought Arthur had meant. And he is too prideful to admit defeat so easily. Even while his arse is fully exposed.

“No, it is not.” Merlin replies haughtily, in an attempt to hide his defeat he does what he does best, diverts. “And you ignored my question.”

The sides of Arthur’s mouth twitch, a tell Merlin has learned to know the prat is trying not to smile.

“Merlin,” Arthur purrs as he walks behind the servant to where Merlin can just again barely see him. “It sounds to me like you want to be punished.”

Merlin indignantly sputters for a moment but he’s quick to find his footing. “It sounds to me like you’re avoiding the question.”

Amusement gets the better of him and Arthur can’t help but chuckle. He places the oil down on the table within easy reaching distance, glass clinking against the wood. He moves his hands back to Merlin’s waist and slowly drags them down the sides of his arse to his thighs. Arthur bends his knees, sitting on his haunches giving him a tantalizing view of Merlin’s opening.

Arthur places an opened mouth kiss to the inside of Merlin’s thigh and the servant jumps at the unexpected contact. Arthur sucks roughly, squeezing Merlin’s thighs, and Merlin moans just loud enough to be heard by the prince.

Arthur detaches his mouth to admire the mark that is quickly darkening in a place Merlin would never be able to see. Though if someone else were to try something with Merlin surely they’d see it.

“I started carrying the oil with me in case you need me at a moment's notice.” Arthur’s breath is hot against Merlin’s thigh. The servant feels a rush of arousal throb through his cock, though Merlin isn’t sure if it’s from the situation or from yet another considerate act from Arthur.

“Oh.” Is all Merlin is able to say, not wanting to expose his feelings for his best friend.

Arthur hums in reply as he moves his head higher, sliding his mouth against the supple skin of Merlin’s arse until his hot breath is cascading against Merlin’s hole.

Merlin whines at the strange sensation. “Arthur? What are you doing?”

Merlin can feel the prince smile against his skin as he places a kiss along his crevice. “A-Arthur?”

The prince places another opened mouth kiss, then another and another, running his tongue over soft, heated skin. Merlin starts squirming restlessly against him. Arthur grabs and kneads Merlin’s cheeks watching how his hole flutters. He moves each kiss closer and closer to his entrance and once he’s nearly there Merlin tries to pull forward but the table stops him before he can get very far.

“Arthur, what- what are you doing?” Merlin tries again, his voice already sounding wrecked.

“Tasting you.” Arthur answers simply.

Merlin’s voice is small as he replies, “There?”

“I want to taste you everywhere.” Arthur rumbles before finally moving to his goal, he doesn’t want to startle the boy too much so he just starts with a closed mouth kiss as his hands separate Merlin’s cheeks.

“A-Arthur!” Merlin nearly shouts, he’d never imagine someone’s mouth on his most private area, let alone the prince’s mouth.

Arthur places an opened mouth kiss next and starts greedily lapping at Merlin’s hole. The servant starts to writhe against him, biting his lips hard enough to nearly draw blood in an attempt to stop his moans; but the sensation is heavenly, almost ticklish even, yet his noises still manage to escape.

It’s then Arthur pauses, realizing something. Lavender? There’s a faint yet distinct smell and taste of lavender oil. But Arthur knows for a fact Merlin has since washed from when they slept together. And if Merlin is to be believed Elias didn’t touch him. So that only leaves one option.

“Merlin,” Arthur moves to stand slowly and the raven nearly cries out at the loss because he needs more of Arthur’s mouth on him now. The prince leans to the side Merlin is facing to be seen better.

“Did you touch yourself last night? Or maybe even this morning?”

Merlin’s stomach drops, oh gods he didn’t even consider Arthur would be able to tell. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how Arthur had savagely claimed him ever since it happened. He tried to get off this morning but he just couldn't finish, something was missing. So he took a step and fingered himself with images of Arthur replaying in his mind and he was finally able to find release. Oh gods it’ll be so obvious to Arthur. Why else would Merlin have done it? He’s so screwed.

“I- I-” Merlin stutters, eyes going wide, unable to find a coherent thought through his pleasure hazed mind and growing anxiety. He frantically searches Arthur’s face trying to gauge what he’s thinking but his brain feels like mush.

The deepening blush on Merlin’s face is all Arthur needs. Desire blossoms in his chest tenfold, he can feel the inside of his smalls moisten with precum at the mental image of Merlin wantonly fingering himself.

Arthur disappears from Merlin’s view as he retreats towards his previous spot “It’s okay, Merlin,” Arthur all but coos, though his voice holds an infuriating smugness to it that irks Merlin.

Arthur knows he shouldn’t ask, it could very well reveal too much, but he can’t help himself, much like anything that has to do with Merlin. He hums coyly as he smooths his hand over Merlin’s lower back as he walks around, but he doesn't kneel yet. Instead, the prince ruts his clothed erection against Merlin’s now wet hole, he leans over Merlin’s lithe frame as he asks, “Were you a good boy hmm? Did you think of me?” Arthur’s hips grind slowly, a contrast to his frantic heart rate.

Merlin’s anxiety evaporates, doused by the flood of arousal and traitorous hope, but he can’t focus on much other than the arousal as that pleasant tingly weightless feeling overcomes him again.

The feeling washes over him so harshly he pauses a moment too long, prompting Arthur to speak again. “Did you think about how I fucked in and out of your tight little arse?” Arthur kisses behind his ear, “Did you imagine your fingers were my prick opening you up?”

Merlin’s moan is breathy, voice low as he pushes his hips back against Arthur, “Yes, yes all of it Arthur, thought of you.”

“Fuck, Merlin.” Arthur groans as he pushes against Merlin’s movements. Arthur’s not sure he’s ever been this hard in his life, he’s fairly certain he could cum just from grinding against Merlin, like a virginal teen. “What a good boy, thinking of me,” Arthur praises, “so good.” He licks the cuff of Merlin’s ear.

Merlin shudders at the praise. He cranes his neck trying to get Arthur’s attention, when he finally catches his eyes the prince’s pupils are blown wide, nearly overtaking his irises. Merlin moves his head slightly and Arthur’s heart melts a little in understanding.

Arthur leans forward and to the side, so Merlin’s not straining as much, before kissing the young man. Merlin’s tongue enters his mouth immediately, lips eager against Arthur’s own.

They part for breath, Merlin’s eyes are glassy, cheeks red and hair tousled. Arthur doesn’t try to hide his smile as he moves to the exposed skin of Merlin’s neck, “So good for me Merlin, you deserve a reward.”

“Nnn?”

“Stay.” Arthur commands before he gets up off of Merlin. He sinks down to his knees taking in the view once more.

Fully on his knees this time, he doesn't have to worry about balancing as much as he had before. Arthur dives back in, mouthing and licking at Merlin’s hole so ravenously Merlin’s sure the prince is trying to devour him.

Merlin moans a little too loudly as he pushes back against Arthur searching for more. Arthur complies and probes at Merlin’s hole before pushing his tongue in and Merlin nearly shouts. Arthur’s tongue is warm and wet as he pushes in and out. Merlin moans too loudly again and Arthur can finally enact his plan.

He stands back up, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his sleeve. “Like that hmm?”

“Yes! Please Arthur ‘want more.” Merlin wiggles his arse to emphasize his point.

“I know, but you’re too loud.” Arthur half-heartedly scolds, walking over until he is in front of Merlin’s face that is still pressed against the table, his cheek comically squished against its surface.

“Open.”

Merlin unquestioningly obeys and opens his mouth, eagerly eyeing Arthur’s bulge. And while that’s a tempting idea, it isn’t what Arthur plans to do and he’s fairly certain he’d cum embarrassingly quick at the moment.

Instead Arthur reaches for Merlin’s neckerchief and hefts it up until it’s settled in the servant's mouth. Confusion is clear on Merlin’s face but is washed away by understanding as Arthur reaches around to the back of his head tightening the makeshift gag.

Once It’s just tight enough to be uncomfortable, pulling at the sides of his mouth, Merlin can feel the telltale tingle of magic interaction with his own as his eyes flash pink and the faint pain in his stomach fully fades.

“There,” Arthur grins wickedly when his servant's eyes flash, “that should save some of your dignity.” His eyes trace over Merlin’s frame, the boy already looks so wrecked. “Not that I’d mind if we were heard.” Arthur ruffles a hand in Merlin’s hair as he once again walks back to his spot. “Then everyone would know that you’re mine.”

Merlin whines at the prince’s rousing words even though he knows Arthur is just talking and that he doesn’t mean them. Similarly how Gwaine talks and flirts with Merlin, the knight doesn’t mean the things he says, it's merely jesting or in this case a way to build to the pleasure... Surely. Otherwise, even if Merlin would like it, Arthur would be out of his mind since Uther would have Merlin’s head in a moment’s notice if anyone were to find out.

Arthur admires how Merlin’s hole gleams as drips of his saliva slowly make their way down to Merlin’s bollocks. He can’t help but push in a finger, it slides in with ease, unlike last time when Arthur had to take his time. Surely due to Merlin’s morning time activities.

Merlin’s moan is muffled against the fabric of his neckerchief as his knees wobble from the pleasure, while his own fingers were adequate earlier they are no match for Arthur’s much stronger and callused digits. Arthur bends down again, licking at Merlin while sliding a second finger into him.

“You’re already so nice and open for me,” Arthur’s voice vibrates against his opening, and Merlin moans again in a higher pitch. Merlin’s fairly sure receiving praise is one of his favorite kinks so far.

Arthur’s fingers hit that spot in him again and Merlin yelps, Arthur can feel his muscles tighten against his fingers and against his tongue. Deeming a third finger unnecessary as Merlin is still rather loosened from earlier, Arthur stands and unlaces his own breeches, his smalls are quick to follow as they fall to the ground around his ankles. Arthur reaches over and uncorks the oil before lathering up his cock, while Merlin is wet and open, he still doesn’t want to risk hurting him.

Merlin feels the blunt head of Arthur’s prick tease at his hole and he tries to push back onto it needing the prince inside him. But Arthur is quick to grab his hips and push him against the table, Merlin gasps as his cock rubs against the wooden surface but the neckerchief doesn’t allow for the sound to be heard.

Arthur slowly pushes in and Merlin’s panting speeds up, his arousal is overwhelming as the sides of his neckerchief, wet with his spit, pull tightly at the corners of his mouth. He cranes his neck to try to get a look at Arthur.

Arthur watches as his cock slowly disappears into Merlin, how the glossy ring of muscle encircles his width beautifully. It’s slick, hot, and euphoric as he bottoms out into his best friend with a groan.

He looks up to see Merlin watching him with a blissed-out yet foggy gaze as small moans are just able to make it through the gag to Arthur’s ears. Spittle dribbles down from the corner of Merlin’s plush and kiss-swollen lips as the gag does its job. And while it seems fitting for their given situation, Arthur isn’t sure how he feels about it. On one hand, Merlin looks unbelievably lewd, his lips being spread apart like that, but on the other hand, Arthur loves the noises Merlin makes and wants to hear his servant’s pleasure.

Arthur starts rocking his hips in small movements at first. He then pulls out just so the head of his cock is still seated then thrusts his hips forward until his thighs meet against Merlin’s arse, though he is careful the slapping noise isn’t too loud.

Merlin is a mewling, writhing mess below him, moving back to meet Arthur’s thrusts the best he can while being pinned against the table. Arthur watches each time as his cock disappears into Merlin and he can feel the slight tightening in his balls, but he doesn't want this to be over yet.

The prince bends over Merlin’s frame so his chest is flush with his back as he slows his thrusts to a more intimate grind and lavs his tongue at Merlin's now exposed neck. Merlin keens and trembles underneath him, the weight of the prince putting more pressure on his trapped cock.

It’s at that moment a voice comes from outside the tent.

“Sire?” George’s voice rings out and Merlin freezes up.

Arthur hisses as Merlin tightens around him, he glances over to the tent entrance. Thankfully for both of them, unlike Merlin, George doesn't just intrude into the Prince’s spaces without permission.

Arthur doesn’t move away from Merlin when he calls out, “I no longer require your services today George. Merlin has returned to service me.” Arthur can’t keep his amusement out of the last sentence.

Merlin glares at him but his eyes squish ever so slightly, as if he’s smiling, though he can’t smile given the gag in his mouth.

Arthur drags out and pushes back into Merlin who gives him a rather frantic look. Arthur raises a challenging brow and smiles that endearingly crooked, boyish smile Merlin loves so much.

“Are you sure, sire? There are fifteen minutes until the final round.” George asks again from outside the tent.

“Quite sure, George.” Arthur thrusts in again and Merlin flails as the prince hits his prostate dead on, as much as he tries Merlin can’t help the moan that escapes him, but Arthur is quick to speak up trying to cover the muffled sound. “You are to assi- assist Prince Elias for the time being.” Arthur picks up the pace, ramming into his servant over and over, tears start to form in the corner of Merlin’s eyes as he fights not to make any noise.

But the thought of someone seeing him like this, seeing how he is being taken by the prince, knowing that Arthur is getting his pleasure from Merlin, it has butterflies dancing in his stomach. George can’t see though, he’d tell Uther, but perhaps someone who wouldn’t tell the king. Someone seeing just how much Merlin belongs to his prince, how much he is willing to give, how good he is for his master.

“Af’ur” Merlin whines against his neckerchief.

Arthur turns back around, meeting his gaze and he can see the pleading in his friend's eyes.

“You are dismissed, George.”

“Yes, sire.” The servant’s footsteps fade in the direction of Elias’ tent.

Arthur keeps the same pace but starts thrusting in and out of Merlin harder. Merlin, unable to keep his eyes open from his pleasure, mewls and whines as his prostate is hit again and again. The table soundlessly rocks underneath them.

Merlin’s noises start to pitch higher as with each thrust the heat in his belly grows.

“Fuck.” Arthur grits out pushing even more of his weight into Merlin’s back and it’s the exact pressure his depraved prick needs. Merlin's body tenses as cum shoots out of his cock, smearing against his stomach and the table, he arches from the pleasure that wracks his body, his wail muffled by the gag.

Arthur’s thrusts become frantic and aimless as he watches his best friend cum untouched, from only being fucked by his cock, the tightening muscles and wrought display push him over the edge, flooding Merlin as his release sporadically shoots out of him.

They stay there a moment gasping for breath, Arthur now practically lying on Merlin. The servant squirms under him.

“Sorry.” He breathes into Merlin’s neck before rolling off the lad, landing on the table next to him with a thud.

Merlin looks over, eyes glazed, expression sated. It’s only then when he sees it that Arthur is reminded of the gag in his mouth. He reaches over behind Merlin’s head and undoes the knot, carefully pulling the spit soaked fabric out of his mouth before tossing it onto the dirt floor.

Merlin lazily watches, too relaxed to care about his neckerchief being tossed on the ground.

There are small red marks on the sides of Merlin’s mouth that Arthur is sure will fade in a few moments, unlike that mark the prince left on his servant's thigh, not that Merlin will ever see it there.

They stay there just looking at each other, coming down from their highs when a smile creeps onto Arthur's face. “Well, now I have a new way to get you to shut up.”

Merlin snorts and rolls his eyes fondly, “Prat.”

God, Arthur wants so badly to kiss him, to wrap his arms around him and take care of him.

“We should clean up, I have to get my armor on.” Arthur sits up and rolls his shoulders.

Merlin tries to get up and actually manages to not fall over this time, even with his pants around his ankles, though his legs are still quite wobbly. That and he can feel the cum start to dribble down his thighs, he blushes bright red unsure of what to do in this situation. The other night Arthur had cleaned him without really explaining anything and he had still been a bit out of it.

After wiping his flaccid cock off with a rag and pulling his breeches back up, Arthur turns to see Merlin blushing shyly, then the movement of trickling cum on Merlin’s thigh catches his eye and his prick gives an interested yet spent twitch.

“I- I’m not really sure how to deal with this.” Merlin admits, adamantly avoiding eye contact.

“Right, uhm-” Arthur clears his throat, “I’ll show you next time.” Arthur feels incredibly guilty but they truly don’t have enough time to clean out Merlin, he still needs to get his armor on, and rather quickly at that. And if he enjoys the idea of his cum marking Merlin as his, well, that’s his business. “We don’t have enough time, I need to get in my armor still, I promise I’ll show you next time thou-”

“Oh Gods! The tournament!” Merlin pulls his clothes up, grimacing as the lingering cum seeps into the fabric but he quickly turns to start preparing Arthur.

Considering what just happened, Merlin is able to shake out of his daze rather quickly while still standing on shaky legs. Even so, he is able to dress Arthur in his armor in record time.

Arthur watches Merlin wobble around as he quickly makes work of his armor. It’s quite baffling to watch his clumsy servant hobble around like a newborn foal while still somehow keeping his balance and even making great time in his task. His mused hair and ruddy cheeks are a strong contrast to his focused demeanor as he works.

Arthur doesn't even realize Merlin’s nearly done until he tightens his right vambrace and finally looks up at him. It's a shy look, one he’s only seen on Merlin maybe once or twice, all instances rather recently.

He’s not really sure what to say in this situation, his first instinct is to ask for a good luck kiss, and as tempting as it is, ahem- no. Arthur shakes his head, he and Merlin are friends, best friends, they’re only doing this because they have to. While he may find himself caring more about Merlin, being softer towards him, it’s surely just a side effect of sleeping together. There’s a quiet voice in the back of his head saying he can’t risk Merlin not feeling the same then going to someone else to help resolve the spell. But that’s no- he’s just helping Merlin after the servant took a spell in his stead.

“No more pain?” Is what Arthur’s brain settles on sending to his mouth.

A small smile graces Merlin’s lips. Arthur’s fondness tingles in his limbs, encouraging him to reach out to caress, kiss, and hold, but he doesn’t.

“No, no more pain.” Merlin scans over his armor making sure everything is latched correctly.

“Good, that’s good.”

It’s then the horn sounds, calling everyone back to the arena.

They look at each other for a moment so much going unsaid before Arthur shakes out of it, starting to go into his battle headspace.

Arthur goes to leave the tent, but to his surprise, Merlin tries following.

“Merlin, what do you think you are doing?”

“Going to watch you?” Merlin asks, brow furrowed.

“We can’t risk Elias seeing you not sick. And your trousers…” Arthur tapers off.

Merlin’s blush comes back but his face remains determined, “It’s fine, I’ll be careful.”

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice is reprimanding. “We can’t risk someone finding out.”

Merlin looks like he’s going to argue but the fight leaves his posture as he slumps over. “I know.” He pouts.

But Merlin’s gaze is filled with worry, and while Arthur feels a bit warm and fuzzy at his friend's concern, he also feels a bit affronted as he is the best fighter of Camelot, and Merlin has seen him fight countless times. He should have more confidence in him, like in his fight against Elias.

“I’ll make it quick.” Arthur tries to reassure him. It’s not something he would normally do, he’d usually tease Merlin or cuff him upside the head for the lack of confidence in his ability. But perhaps he’s feeling a bit soft.

Merlin rolls his eyes at Arthur’s never ending confidence, and it’s not like he can say ‘I won’t be able to protect you from here.’ Nor could he explain how he wants to just wrap himself up in Arthur and snuggle with him. Gods what is happening to him, is that normal? To want to do soft things with someone after you sleep with them? Maybe he could ask Gwaine. But if it’s not because of the sleeping together and just from his own feelings, maybe he shouldn’t ask Gwaine then.

“Yeah yeah, you prat. Just go and win.” Merlin tries to divert but his soft smile gives him away.

Arthur’s smile is blinding, he ruffles Merlin’s hair roughly before turning away once again. But before he leaves Merlin calls out.

“Arthur,”

The prince turns around, question clear on his face.

“Thank you.” Merlin can feel his face heat up but forces himself to keep looking at Arthur.

The prince gives him a nod before exiting the tent.

If Merlin casts a protective ward on his armor when he turns around, well that’s his prerogative.

Merlin paces the tent, or well, wobbles the tent as much as his legs will allow. He doubts Prince Rhys will try to do anything to harm Arthur in front of so many people. He can’t help but worry though. While yes, Arthur is a good swordsman, Merlin has seen him in far too many life or death situations to ever let his guard down.

He sighs and stops his pacing knowing Arthur will be annoyed if he wears a path in the ground. Instead he picks up a dirty rag and starts to clean the table since he had... dirtied it. Wiping up his own mess just reminds him of the fluid trickling out of his body. It’s cooled down substantially and is getting rather sticky, but it’s bearable for now.

The crowd roars to life outside, surely the princes are making their appearances. Merlin can easily tell when it’s Arthur who comes out as he always gets the loudest applause no matter who he competes against. Honestly, even if he went against Uther he’d probably get the most cheers.

There’s a strange feeling slowly materializing in his chest as he wipes the table clean. Thankfully the pain is fully gone, but he feels, sad? That doesn’t seem right, empty feels like a better word. His chest constricts a bit as he focuses on it and his heart rate starts to pick up. This is… strange, this has never happened before. Is it from the sex? But then why is it only happening now?

With their other rendezvous sure he had felt a bit sad after but that was more just from his hopeless pining. He takes another deep breath but it does little to calm the sudden wave of overwhelming emotions.

Maybe he’s just worried for Arthur’s safety since he’s not out there. But Merlin has experienced anxiety before, rather frequently actually, given he is constantly on edge watching out for Arthur, and this feels different. It’s duller and throbs slowly, constricting his lungs and heart in a way he’s unfamiliar with. Maybe he should go see Giaus. But then he’d have to explain what he was doing before this feeling started and gods that was not going to happen, he’d actually rather die before that. Oh gods, even just thinking about it makes him feel mortified.

Merlin picks up his neckerchief and shakes it out, trying to shake the feeling from his chest to little avail. The clanging of metal as swords meet in the arena echoes in his ears, the worry for his prince now amplified by this other unpleasant feeling. He could take a peek outside. Everyone is most likely watching the fight anyways, it’s not like anyone would be looking at the arse or inner thigh of his trousers.

Merlin slides over to the tent flap but as soon as he opens it the crowd roars as someone has clearly taken the victory. With that squires start rushing back to their lord’s tents and Merlin is left with no other option than to retreat and wait for Arthur.

Thankfully it doesn’t take long for the prince to return, and Merlin can immediately tell he won by the way he holds himself as he walks in.

“Told you I’d make it quick.” Arthur beams, his hair and face damp with sweat.

“Hmm, not the only thing you’re quick with.” Merlin smirks teasingly from where he is now sat on the clean table.

“Oi!”

“Oh come on Arthur, you practically gave that one to me.”

The tight feeling in Merlin's chest fades fractionally.

“It’s not the only thing I gave to you.” Arthur raises a suggestive eyebrow.

Merlin’s face heats up, alright, he walked right into that one.

“So,” Merlin clears his throat, “I’m assuming you won?”

“Gah,” Arthur scoffs, “Of course, what do you take me for Merlin?” He walks over to Merlin allowing his servant to start removing his armor without getting up from his spot on the table.

“A prat.” Merlin answers without hesitation, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Arthur cuffs him on the head earning him a half-hearted glare from his manservant.

Their conversation flows easily, Arthur enthusiastically describing the fight, smile never leaving his face. And while Merlin still doesn’t know all the names for certain moves Arthur describes, he listens eagerly.

Once finished Merlin shifts on his feet, not really sure how he’s supposed to leave the tent with no one noticing his trousers. He could magic the mess away but Arthur would most definitely notice.

Arthur must notice his squirminess as he tosses his day trousers at him, the ones he had gotten the oil from earlier.

Merlin with his renowned cat-like reflexes, misses the catch and the fabric smacks him in the face, one leg wrapping around his head.

Arthur snorts when Merlin pulls them off to scowl at him.

“Put those on.”

Merlin’s brow furrows, “But, what will you wear?”

“I’ll just wear these.” Arthur gestures to the sweaty pants he had worn under his armor. “I have to get changed for dinner anyways.”

Merlin shrugs, “Alright.”

He slides out of his breeches and smalls that have started to crust slightly. Thankfully it seems like everything has already dripped out. He’s rather amused when Arthur looks away so he can change, as if he hadn’t had his mouth on his arse earlier.

While the pants are extremely soft and nearly the perfect length they are a little large in the waist, he keeps a hand on them to keep them from sliding down too far.

Merlin clears his throat to let Arthur know he can turn around.

Arthur eyes him for a moment too long before his gaze settles on the hand holding the fabric up.

Merlin couldn't stop his smile if he tried.

Arthur glares and meets his gaze. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

They leave the tent and Merlin attends him until the banquet. Unwilling to give Elias the chance to snag him back up, Arthur gives his servant the night off and Merlin isn’t going to say no at the chance for some extra rest. Though the tight feeling in his chest lasts until he is able to fall asleep.

Merlin's final rating: 7

Threesome
The act of having sexual relations in
a group of three persons

Merlin's initial rating: 8

Arthur has had enough of Elias’ pining over his manservant, even though it hasn’t even been one full day since the tournament and Merlin ‘falling ill.’ So, he rallies his knights together for a multi-day hunt. It’ll get both him and Merlin away from the castle for a while and by the time they’re back the Northumbrian nobility should only have a day or two left.

They are all in the courtyard preparing to leave, the sun is just starting to rise, the summer weather feels far off with the crisp chill of autumn in the air. The early sun refracts off the morning fog casting everything in a hazy golden light. It’s as Arthur is admiring the slow change of seasons when Prince Elias starts down the steps, it’s clear by the way he is dressed in light leathers he plans on asking to join. They had all agreed to opt for light leather armor rather than their chainmail as they weren’t going too far from the citadel; how Elias managed to hear that information, Arthur has no idea.

Arthur nearly falls to his knees in thanks as Morgana intercepts the prince, making conversation with him, his sister shoots him a wink and Arthur can’t help but be a bit frightened at her perception skills.

Everyone is ready on their horses just as he’s about to mount he notices a particular member missing. “Merlin!” Arthur calls out annoyed.

“Right here!” The servant jaunts over from the direction of the stables, a few pieces of hay sticking out of his hair.

“Oi, Merlin! Have a roll in the hay?” Elyan chuckles as the servant passes by his horse. A few of the other knights chuckle.

“W-What?” Merlin nearly trips over nothing.

“There’s hay in your hair.” Leon explains, as Merlin stumbles by, the knight reaches down to ruffle his hair causing the hay to fall to the ground only for his horse to bend down to lip at it.

“Ah, thanks Leon.” Merlin smiles brightly at the knight before mounting his steed.

“On time as always Merlin.” Arthur heckles.

“Doing chores you assign, sire.”

“Gods we haven’t even left and they’re already at it.” Elyan half jests.

Arthur clears his throat, Leon and Lancelot at least try to hide their amusement, unlike the others. “Alright, let’s get going.” The prince clicks his horse forward.

Arthur’s spirits are much higher as the day continues on, enjoying the comradery of his knights and the bickering with his manservant. The day goes by rather quickly, surprisingly Merlin had only made a few obvious attempts to scare their prey away and Arthur had managed to shoot down a rather large buck.

Not wanting to lug around the corpse they decide to set up camp where they are. The sun will be setting soon anyway with the days shortening.

Arthur watches as Merlin lights the fire with the flint, he has a focused look on his face that is quickly wiped away as Percy carries the deer past causing Merlin to blanch, his face whitening slightly.

Arthur can understand Merlin’s lack of enthusiasm for killing things, as the boy is rather soft hearted, and there are plenty of others who find such things gruesome. While Arthur can’t relate himself, he certainly understands. What he doesn't understand is Merlin being the physician's apprentice and still having a problem with blood and entrails.

While yes it’s not as if Merlin has to assist Gaius with surgeries daily, births are fairly common and they involve a lot of blood and… goop. Arthur had seen a birth once. He walked into Giaus’ chambers one day looking for his wayward manservant, he hadn’t knocked before entering, and now that image is forever scarred into his brain. Ugh. Rather ironic for a knight to be perturbed by such things, but deaths on the battlefield are almost always by blade and very rarely is it a wound bad enough to disembowel.

But Merlin sees injuries and human innards much more often than the average person. It’s so odd that he can’t stomach seeing an animal gutted. Luckily for the servant, Percival is well versed with gutting animals and doesn’t mind taking on the task. The first time he had seen Merlin nearly get sick trying to gut a boar he had offered to help and has taken over ever since.

Once the fire catches the other knights start to gather around, the sun is still in the sky but the little warmth it had brought in the noon is slipping away quickly as it makes its descent further behind the trees. Merlin stands up and flitters about unsure of what to do, he always gets like this when Percy is preparing their catch. He has already seen to the horses and helped Arthur out of his leathers, there isn’t really anything for him to do while they wait for the large knight to be done.

The knights make small talk, some eyeing Merlin fondly as he fiddles about. The servant finally settles on retrieving the wineskins from the horses, having packed extra on Arthur’s request to have an enjoyable hunting trip and forget about the citadel for a while, no reason in particular. They had more than enough to last them the trip.

It takes Percy quite a while to finish as it’s a rather large buck and once he’s done the sun is nearly fully set with only a few rays of light peeking through the tree line. Merlin thanks the large man, the knight ruffles his hair kindly, telling him as always he’s happy to help him out. Merlin gets to work right away preparing their dinner.

By the time Merlin is done, the sun can no longer be seen, the sky a dark blue but not quite black yet, leaving only the brightest stars shining in the sky for the moment. The crickets have started their night song along with an owl far in the distance barely loud enough to be heard over the crackling of the fire.

They are all starting to feel the effects of the wine, even Merlin who had made sure not to drink too much lest it impede his workflow.

They take their time eating their supper, amiably sharing stories and jests while sobering up a tad as they fill their stomachs. There’s enough for everyone to have seconds with how large the buck was and by the time they are finished the wine is freely flowing again.

It is unlike Sir Leon to drink too much but tonight seems to be the exception as he is regaling the knights of the time Lady Catrina had wooed the King, only for her to be revealed as a troll.

Arthur couldn’t find it in himself to stop the story, if he’s honest, it was rather amusing, especially to his currently wine-addled brain. Merlin and Gwaine have tears in their eyes from laughing so hard and Elyan has a look of clear disbelief on his face.

“I swear! They were tusks!” Leon slurs slightly, motioning with his hands the size of said tusks. His movement is reminiscent of what an old fisherman does when talking about his biggest catch.

“It’s true,” Arthur adds grinning and Elyan’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “And…” the prince pauses leaning in to build the tension, the others lean in eagerly. The only sound that can be heard is the crackling of the fire and the nightlife of the forest, “He laid with her.”

Laughter and gasps erupt loudly into the quiet night, Gwaine falls backward off the log he’s sat on and Merlin is nearly dragged back with him, cackling with laughter. Lancelot puts a hand on Arthur’s shoulder to steady himself as laughter racks his chest.

Arthur chuckles and takes another sip of wine, “You didn't hear it from me though, he’ll have our heads if he knows I’ve told you all.”

Leon continues the story and eventually, they break into smaller conversations. Arthur chimes in here and there but he has always preferred to listen to the others, he’s never been the best at storytelling.

It doesn’t take long for Arthur to notice how close Gwaine is sitting to Merlin, but unlike usual, it’s not bothering him. Perhaps it's because Merlin has said he is his, not that Arthur really even knows if he meant it or was just saying it for the heat of the moment.

While he has always been rather protective of Merlin the knights have come to understand that he is Arthur’s. And on a level, he knows Gwaine understands that too, even with how touchy and flirty he is with the boy. Gwaine had come to Arthur when he had learned of the spell Merlin was hit with, and he had even told Arthur that he was the one who needed to help Merlin. And to be fair Gwaine is like that with everyone, just more so with Merlin as they’re so close.

The two have their heads close together and mischievous looks about them, Arthur nearly rolls his eyes, trouble tends to follow Merlin around and it seems trouble is Gwaine’s middle name. It’s just like them trying to pull some silly prank or conjure up some asinine scheme to enact once they get back at the citadel.

Then it happens.

It’s almost like it happens in slow motion, the two laugh together at something Merlin says when Gwaine pats Merlin’s shoulder saying something too low to be heard. Merlin’s eyes flash pink.

The two freeze, Merlin’s cheeks that are already flushed from the effects of the alcohol, slowly flush deeper, all the way to the tips of his ears. Gwaine stares dumbfounded for a moment before a sly grin makes its way onto his face. The knight reaches up to Merlin’s chin making the boy look at him.

Arthur snarls, suddenly standing in front of the pair. “I need to talk to you, now.” His tone gains the attention of the other knights.

Merlin tries to find his footing as Arthur practically drags him stumbling over his feet into the woods.

A few moments go by as the knights share confused looks, Gwaine keeps looking at the ground, brow furrowed.

“Anyone know what the hell that was about?” Lancelot asks worriedly.

No one speaks up, all just as confused. After a few moments, Gwaine breaks the strange unsure tension in the air.

“Welp,” He sighs as he makes to stand up, “I’m gonna make sure they don’t kill each other.” The knight leans from side to side stretching out his legs before turning to follow the two, “It might take a bit, I’ll be back.” He waves his hand dismissively before disappearing in the same direction.

The events of the last thirty seconds have sobered Merlin up quite a bit but he still stumbles as he’s dragged by the brutish prince.

“Ar-Arthur!” Merlin manages to pull out of Arthur’s grip.

The prince turns on Merlin, his expression is…calm?

No, not calm, deceptively calm, it’s the expression Arthur gets before he delivers a killing blow, so angry and ruthless it’s past the point of anger, it’s icy and cold and shut off.

His eyes give him away though, his predatory rumination almost hides the malevolent rage glinting in his gaze.

Merlin suddenly finds himself feeling like the deer Arthur had shot down earlier.

Arthur takes a step and a half, encroaching into the already small space that separates them. “What.” Arthur speaks slowly, annunciating each word clearly. “Did. He. Say.”

Merlin swallows, but the urge to disobey, to get a reaction out of Arthur, tickles his thoughts. He rarely gets to see Arthur this mad, how much further can he push him?

“Why?” Merlin lifts his chin in a challenge.

Arthur reaches out, grabbing the neck of Merlin's jacket and pulls, bringing them chest to chest. While they are practically the same height Arthur currently looms over him. “I am not playing Merlin.” But there’s a glimmer of something that wasn’t there before, it’s daring Merlin to push further.

“And if I am?” The corner of his mouth quirks coyly.

“Then I’ll have to remind you who is in charge,” Arthur growls before descending on Merlin’s mouth.

It’s hot and aggressive and everything Merlin wants from Arthur. The prince is forceful with every movement he makes, he grips Merlin’s hair while the hand holding his jacket slides around to the small of his back, forcing their bodies even closer together. Merlin brings his hands to Arthur’s chest and twists his fingers into the soft fabric.

Arthur’s leg makes its way between Merlin’s thighs and the servant instinctually grinds against it. A low and breathy moan escapes Merlin unbidden and Arthur drinks it in as he bites at his best friend’s lower lip.

Arthur makes quick work of Merlin’s neckerchief letting it fall to the ground, quickly followed by the servant’s jacket. Merlin’s tongue is demanding and aggressive against his as he refuses to fully submit to the prince.

There’s the smallest snapping of a twig and Arthur’s eyes shoot open but he doesn't detach from his servant. Over Merlin’s shoulder, he can see Gwaine approaching, though the knight stops once he’s seen.

They lock eyes, a grin forms on Gwaine’s face as the knight raises his eyebrows. Arthur narrows his eyes and slides his hand from the small of Merlin’s back down to his arse where he unabashedly gropes while still snogging Merlin silly, not looking away from the knight.

“Aw come on princess,” Gwaine’s voice floats through the air and Merlin freezes, clearly unaware that the knight had made an appearance. Merlin tries to pull away from Arthur but the prince’s hold doesn't let him get far. “You never learn to share?” There’s a smugness in Gwaine’s voice that’s just rather natural to the man but Arthur can see the teasing gleam in his eyes.

But No. Being a prince, Arthur has never had to share anything a day in his life, not even with Morgana. If they both wanted something they both got their own, never forced to share.

Merlin tries to turn around to face the knight but Arthur’s hold in his hair prevents him, he stubbornly glares at the prince.

“A prince never has to share.”

The words have Merlin’s heart skip a beat. It's one thing for Arthur to be possessive with him in their own time since he knows Merlin likes it, but in front of someone else? Drops of hope trickle through Merlin’s well built walls.

Gwaine chuckles and takes a few more steps forward but stops before getting in their personal space. “Don't worry princess, I'm not here to infringe. I know he’s yours.” Gwaine raises his hands placatingly.

Arthur and Merlin both tense at the knight's words but neither makes to correct him.

“I’m just offering to help,” he pauses for a moment trying to gauge both Arthur and Merlin’s reactions, not that he can get much out of Merlin with the lad facing the opposite way. When Arthur doesn’t blow up like Gwaine half expected him to, he continues. “Who better to help than someone who already knows about the spell? And if I get to fool around with my obnoxiously attractive best mates? Well, it’s a win-win.”

Once he gets over his initial shock, Arthur mulls over the proposal. His thoughts bring him to a startling realization, he doesn’t dislike the idea, it's actually a rather intriguing proposal. The way he phrased it ‘fooling around’ it’s not anything serious. And with that thought comes the revelation that Arthur doesn't want to share Merlin emotionally. He doesn't want to share his soft smiles, lingering touches, and night talks by the hearth in his chambers. He doesn't want to share his… affection.

Merlin squirms against his hold drawing Arthur’s attention back. His servant's eyes are wide and questioning. Arthur flicks his gaze back to Gwaine who raises a questioning brow at him.

Arthur isn’t too thick to recognize that Gwaine is a very attractive man, hell anyone can see the way he practically oozes sex appeal just by breathing. And he trusts Gwaine, with his life, he knows he wouldn’t step out of bounds on something as serious as Merlin.

He glances back down to Merlin, and as always Merlin knows exactly what he’s asking without even having to say anything, he gives a little nod of his head, his cheeks a brilliant red even in the darkness.

He looks up to Gwaine who now has a rather large grin on his face.

“First,” Arthur says, voice authoritative, “what did you say to him?”

Gwaine's smile drops a fraction in lieu of confusion, “You didn’t ask Merls?”

“Merlin, is being an obstinate brat.”

Merlin has to fight down his smile, he loves his ability to rile up the prince so easily.

Gwaine snorts, “Can’t say I’m surprised. But it wasn’t anything obscene, I was explaining how Percival and I could very easily sneak food from the kitchens using a hook and some rope, a terrific idea by the way, but Merls disagreed, so I said, and I quote ‘come on Birdie, it's a good idea’. Then his eyes flashed pink, it was actually rather startling at first.”

It’s a nickname the knight had come up with ages ago some drunken evening in the tavern when they were all playing games. Originally it was to tease Merlin but later on became more like a term of endearment.

It does give Merlin butterflies when Gwain calls him that, but it’s more like the flutter of an individual butterfly’s wings rather than the raging swarm Arthur is so easily able to conjure.

That… is not nearly as bad as what Arthur had imagined, what was left of his jealousness fades away with the new information. Arthur puts on his contemplating face before looking back to Merlin, making sure he is indeed okay with this idea. Merlin nods once again.

Excitement buzzes through Merlin’s limbs, he can not believe this is actually about to happen. Being shared between two of the most attractive knights in Camelot? This is the kind of fantasy he hadn't even entertained knowing it was so unbelievable, but damn is he going to make the best of this. His cock is eagerly filling out again just from the thought of it.

Arthur looks back to Gwaine, the knight must see something on his face because he is grinning confidently, but he waits for a verbal answer.

“Alright.” Arthur sounds like he’s conceding but both Gwaine and Merlin know him too well, they can see the intrigued hunger in his gaze.

Not wasting any time Arthur goes back to kissing Merlin but he keeps his eyes on Gwaine as he approaches, whose bulge is already visible in his pants.

Merlin kisses back, tongue sliding against his. He tenses, tightening his hands in Arthur’s shirt as he hears Gwaine’s footsteps approach from behind. It’s a mix of anticipation and excited nerves. The knight makes sure to sidestep Merlin’s discarded jacket and neckerchief as he moves closer.

Arthur’s hand that’s grabbing Merlin’s arse loosens and slides up under his shirt, along the side of his ribs, to give Gwaine room. The prince’s fingers ghost against his skin in small easy caresses. The hand in his hair tightens fractionally as Merlin feels a new pair of large hands on his clothed hips.

“This okay with you Merls?” Gwain’s voice is soft and warm against his ear, sending shivers down his body he doesn't even try to hide.

Arthur pulls back a fraction so Merlin can answer. The boy's eyes are lidded, pupils blown wide. “More than okay.” His voice comes out scratchier than he would like.

With that Gwaine closes the distance between his body and Merlin’s, the knight moves his mouth to Merlin’s neck placing small kisses. Gwaine grinds his already growing erection against Merlin’s arse, the movement causes Merlin’s hips to move forward and rub against Arthur’s, their clothed cocks brushing against each other. Merlin moans needily, unsure if he should cant his hips forward or backward.

Merlin's eyes flash pink for the second time that night and they can all see as the light reflects off of Arthur’s face.

Gwaine smiles and slides one of his hands from Merlin’s hip to Arthur’s, further entraping Merlin between them. Arthur’s gaze meets his at the contact, Gwaine winks and slides his thumb under his shirt causing the prince to roll his eyes.

Merlin is quickly becoming a panting mess trapped between the two knights, mind getting hazed with steadfast desire, his knees already a little wobbly.

Arthur and Gwaine thrust forward at the same time and Merlin moans at the sensation, the two strong, sturdy bodies, slowly working themselves against him.

Gwaine grunts in reply to Merlin’s whine and Arthur shouldn’t find the sound as enticing as he does. The prince grinds purposefully into Merlin pushing him back against Gwaine and the knight’s hand tightens on Arthur’s hip as he nips at Merlin’s neck. They fall into a steady rhythm meeting thrust for thrust as Merlin quivers between them rocking back and forth with what little room he has.

Their cocks are straining against their trousers almost painfully at this point, Arthur knows they could get Merlin to cum like this but he doesn’t want to waste this opportunity, and he’s rather eager to prove to Gwaine that he can indeed share.

Arthur slides the hand in Merlin’s hair down to his shoulder and separates from Merlin’s mouth, the servant whines at the separation as the prince takes half a step back and spins Merlin around. The movement causes Gwaine to look up in a moment of confusion as Arthur presses himself against Merlin’s arse and starts lapping at the side of the servant's neck Gwaine had not been giving attention.

There’s a brief moment of Gwaine and Merlin locking gazes. Gwaine flicks his eyes to Arthur’s, a silent request.

Arthur is pleasantly surprised at the action. Gwaine looking to him for permission to touch his Merlin, he’s giving all the power, the control, to the prince. It's a heady feeling, holding the reins to his two most rebellious friends. He has the power to deny the knight, to tell him no. But, Arthur’s want is growing by the second and he wouldn’t deny Merlin like that.

Arthur nods to the knight before going back to Merlin’s neck, grinding his cock against the crease of Merlin’s arse.

Even with Arthur’s permission Gwaine is uncharacteristically hesitant as he leans in to kiss Merlin. The knight’s lips are rougher than Arthur’s and his facial hair prickles against Merlin’s skin but he tastes of the same spiced wine they had been drinking.

With a particularly rough nip on his neck from Arthur, Merlin gasps and Gwaine uses that moment to deepen the kiss, bringing one hand to the side of Merlin’s face. Merlin briefly muses how the duo’s innate coordination seems to go further than the battlefield.

Where Arthur’s mouth feels like flames, demanding explosions of fiery hunger that sear into his flesh, Gwaine’s is more like a languid river that despite its fallow currents still threatens to drown him, leaving Merlin gasping for air.

Gwaine uses his hand on Merlin’s face to tilt his head to the side giving Arthur better access to his pale neck. Gwaine pushes forward groaning as his prick meets Merlin’s, Arthur grunts in response as Merlin is pushed against his throbbing erection.

Arthur snakes his hands around Merlin’s waist and starts blindly pulling at the laces on his trousers. Gwaine breaks off from Merlin’s mouth feeling Arthur’s hands between him and Merlin, the knight moves to the unoccupied side of Merlin’s neck and places light kisses on the underside of his jaw, the servant's head lolls back onto Arthur’s shoulder.

Merlin’s trousers fall to the ground with a rustling of fabric; the cool night air forces goosebumps to erupt on his skin.

“Still okay with this, Birdie?” Gwaine asks, panting against his jaw. The knight moves his hands back to Merlin’s waist, slipping under his shirt this time just above where Arthur’s hands now lay.

“Yes.” Merlin’s voice is terser than the knight had expected “If one of you doesn’t fuck me soon I’m going to burst into flames.”

Gwaine snorts and Merlin can feel Arthur smile against his neck.

Gwaine leans back just enough to see the prince. “Is he always this impatient?”

“Yes.”
“No.”

Arthur and Merlin answer at the same time and Gwaine’s grin only grows.

Arthur, quickly growing tired of conversing since there are much better things to be doing, pulls Merlin’s smalls down with no warning, earning him a yelp from his manservant.

His embarrassment is short lived though when Gwaine runs his calloused hands down from his waist, stroking over Arthur’s hands on the way down, to the front of Merlin’s thighs, eyes enraptured on his best mate’s stiff, leaking cock.

It’s as a bead of precum dribbles down that Gwaine comes to a realization, “Ah shit- I don’t, I don’t have any-”

“Well it’s a good thing I do then” Arthur interrupts fishing the vial of oil out of his pocket.

“Always prepared, ey princess?” Gwaine chuckles.

“Have to be with someone as insatiable as him.” Arthur nods his head to Merlin as he jests. The prince takes a step back untying the laces of his own breeches. Gwaine looks over at the movement before looking down to his own trousers then back to Arthur.

At Arthur’s nod of approval Gwaine starts on his own laces but his hands are batted away by Merlin who makes quick work of the knot. Gwaine steps out of his breeches and Merlin slides his slim fingers along the top of his small clothes, he looks up through his lashes at the knight teasingly.

“You’re lucky princess, to be undressed by Merls every day.” Gwaine smirks but his eyes don’t leave the servant.

Merlin interjects, his voice filled with mock offense. “I’ll have you know I’m very professional when attending to my duties.” He leans forward placing soft kisses against Gwaine’s clavicle, just to the side of his necklace.

“Oh please.” Arthur guffaws as he finally steps out of his trousers.

Gwaine chuckles, moving to grab the bottom of Merlin’s shirt, he’s about to lift it over the boy's head when he thinks better. He looks over to Arthur. With another nod of permission, Gwaine hauls Merlin’s tunic over his head smoothly only musing his hair slightly.

With his shirt discarded and now fully nude, Merlin slides Gwaine’s smalls down, his prick springs free and bounces for a moment.

Arthur, having discarded his smalls as well, presses back up against Merlin’s back, cock head leaving smears of precum on his porcelain skin.

When Gwaine looks over to see Arthur fully erect he nearly scoffs but stops himself. “Is there anything your not good at princess?”

Arthur just shoots him a cocky smile.

Merlin nearly laughs but it’s not like Gwaine has anything to complain about, he looks just a tad shorter than Arthur but certainly thicker all around.

Merlin moves back to kiss and lick at Gwaine’s neck who looks at Arthur not exactly sure how the prince wants to do this.

“As you were.” Arthur’s voice is gravelly as he spreads oil on his fingers.

Oh, yeah Gwaine is more than okay with that idea. Running a hand through Merlin’s hair he pulls the boy from his neck and presses their bodies together, bare cocks dragging against each other.

Merlin lets out a filthy moan that has Gwaine’s cock twitching against his, Gwaine brings their lips together again to drink in Merlin's sounds.

“Fuck Birdie, you sing so prettily.” Gwain groans into Merlin’s mouth, grinding his hips forward again.

Merlin keens and his eyes flutter at the praise when he feels his cheeks being spread. Arthur’s oiled finger rubs his entrance, spreading the slippery substance substantially.

“Relax,” Arthur’s voice rumbles as he places kisses on the nape of his neck.

Gwaine can feel as Merlin relaxes his muscles against his body. The servant’s breath hitches against his mouth as Arthur inserts a finger.

It’s not the best angle with them standing but Arthur makes do, careful not to hurt Merlin.

The oil and finger are cool as Arthur pushes into Merlin’s arse. Merlin’s head is so blissfully fuzzy he can barely keep himself up on his feet. It only takes a few strokes before Arthur adds a second finger. It’s a slight sting but one Merlin has recently grown accustomed to.

Merlin cracks his eyes open and moves a hand to Gwaine’s hair, it’s just as silky as it looks. Gwaine’s voice rumbles out in show of his pleasure and the sound goes straight to Merlin’s cock.

Merlin’s mouth becomes more aggressive against Gwaine’s as the servant runs his fingers through the knight's hair over and over. Their cocks are quickly starting to become slippery as their precum mixes together, dripping down their shafts as they continuously grind against one another.

Merlin shivers as he feels Arthur’s teeth softly scrape against the top of his spine.

As bad as Gwaine wants to reach down and stroke them off together, he doesn’t. He’ll wait, he wants to see Merlin being filled, to hear the sounds he’ll make.

Arthur adds a third finger and Merlin sucks in a breath between his teeth at the sting. “There you go Merlin,” Arthur praises as he rubs his own erection against Merlin’s leg.

“Nngh.”

“Mmm good job Birdie, letting princess stretch you out so nicely.” Gwaine’s voice is low and lustful.

Arthur takes his time with the third finger making sure Merlin is properly prepared. The prince watches as his knight and servant lick into each other's mouths exchanging groans and nips. Gwaine looks over, feeling eyes on him, he smiles against Merlin’s mouth and turns the servant's head slightly, giving Arthur a better view.

“Fuck.” Arthur groans as he grinds his straining prick against Merlin’s leg again, the movement roughly pushing Merlin against Gwaine.

They both groan at the extra pressure as their bodies press together.

It only takes a few more strokes of his fingers before Merlin starts trying to work himself on the slippery digits.

“Okay,” Arthur says as he draws his fingers from inside of Merlin, earning a distressed sound from his servant.

Much to Gwaine’s and Merlin’s surprise the prince spins Merlin around again.

The knight's eyes go comically wide with shock and Arthur can't help but smirk victoriously.

“What?” Arthur’s voice is laced with amusement as he brings a hand to Merlin’s chin, he flicks his gaze back to Gwaine. “Just because I’ve never had to share doesn’t mean I don’t know how.”

Merlin chuckles but Gwaine just stares baffled.

“You’re sure princess?”

“Well you are the guest.”

Gwaine snorts, running his hands over Merlin’s arse and Merlin pushes back into his touch.

“Okay with you, Birdie?”

“Gwaine, I swear if you don’t fuck me right now I will march back to our camp and get another knight.”

“Merlin!” Arthur growls out, tightening his hand on the boy's chin. “Stop being a brat. Do you want another punishment? We can teach you some patience if you so desire.” Arthur reprimands, voice authoritative as if he’s scolding a knight at practice.

Gwaine chuckles, “tsk tsk, better behave Birdie. I don’t want to have to wait any longer.” He half-teases.

Merlin pouts at Arthur before turning his head to the side just enough to barely see Gwaine. “I’m sorry Sir Knight. I’ll behave.” His voice lilts teasingly yet the sincerity behind his words is clear.

“Fucking Hell Merls.” Gwaine groans, his cock giving a very interested twitch.

Even though it wasn’t directed at him, Merlin's words still make Arthur’s stomach flutter.

“Bend at your waist.” Arthur demands and Merlin is quick to comply, giving Gwaine a brilliant view of his slicked up hole.

“Gwaine.”

The knight’s eyes dart up to the princess.

“Here.” Arthur tosses him the vial of oil that he easily catches.

“And you.” Arthur narrows his eyes at Merlin. The prince slides his thumb into his servant's mouth to hold his jaw open lest he snark back, “Behave.”

Gwaine watches amusedly as he oils up his prick.

Arthur leads Merlin’s mouth to his cock which he happily takes into his mouth.

The salty taste of precum coats his tongue as he greedily starts sucking, earning a hiss from the prince. Arthur brings a hand to his hair and grips tightly. Merlin puts his hands on Arthur’s thighs to keep his balance. The raven moves up and down his shaft eagerly, wanting to be good for his knights. He’ll have time to misbehave later.

When he still doesn’t feel Gwaine behind him, he wiggles his hips in an invitation.

He can hear Gwaine chuckle from behind him before he speaks, “So impatient Birdie, I’m just admiring how pretty you look like this.” The knight kneads at his cheeks and Merlin can feel some of the oil seep out of him.

Merlin hums around Arthur’s cock, pleased by the words. Then he feels the blunt head of Gwaine pressing against his hole.

Gwaine slowly pushes his cock against Merlin until the muscle gives, allowing him entrance. Merlin is hot and tight around the head of his cock and Gwaine groans at the pleasure that shoots up his spine.

A muffled sound comes from the servant as his mouth slows down on Arthur’s prick, taking in the feeling of being filled.

Gwaine slides in languidly, giving time for Merlin to adjust. Arthur is careful not to thrust forward as to not accidentally push Merlin too far onto Gwaine’s cock too soon.

Arthur’s muscles are tense as he fights the urge to thrust forward as Merlin slows his pace down. His lips had looked good pulled around the gag before but they look so much better stretched around his cock.

Gwaine finally manages to bottom out, his thighs meeting Merlin’s.

Merlin releases a drawn out wine from the back of his throat, panting around Arthur’s cock that is currently resting hot and heavy on his tongue.

Arthur tightens his hold on Merlin’s hair in an attempt to keep still since Merlin has stopped his moving, adjusting to Gwaine’s thickness. Merlin’s eyes are scrunched shut, his breaths coming out of his nose in hot puffs that brush against the half of Arthur’s cock not in the servants’s mouth.

Arthur glances at Gwaine who is clearly in a similar situation, doing his best not to move, giving Merlin time to adjust, his muscles taught and jaw set, lidded eyes observing where he and Merlin are connected.

Arthur moves his hand not in Merlin’s hair to his servant’s face, he strokes his thumb against his cheek soothingly. The raven melts into his touch, body relaxing and Gwaine sucks in a breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding.

Merlin’s eyes flutter open, glassy and dazed as he looks up at Arthur.

“Alright?” Arthur asks.

“Mmm.”

The tone of Merlin’s hum is clearly pleasant as he leans further into Arthur’s touch before wiggling his arse again, telling Gwaine to move.

Gwaine grips at Merlin’s little arse as he shakes it teasingly. The knight nearly pulls all the way out before rolling his hips forward in a steady but forceful motion.

Merlin moans loudly around Arthur’s cock, the sound vibrates through the prince’s body.

“Shit.” Arthur groans out, tightening his hand in Merlin’s tresses again. He moves his hand from Merlin’s face to his shoulder in an attempt to keep him steady. Merlin starts to suck and lick at Arthur’s throbbing cock again. He’s trying his best to bob his head but Gwaine’s thrusts keep throwing him off his rhythm. Not that the knight is going particularly quickly, Merlin’s just never been a rhythmic person.

“Fuck Birdie you feel so good. Your hole is already clenching around me, begging for more, must want it pretty badly hmm?” Gwaine asks breathily from behind him as he continues the fluid rolls of his hips, cock sliding in and out, in and out, over and over again in smooth motions thanks to the oil.

Arthur flicks his gaze back to the knight. His chest is heaving with his panting breath, his eyes are still hooded but he’s looking at Arthur this time, watching as Merlin glides his mouth along Arthur’s length clumsily. Their gazes lock and Gwaine smiles and blows a kiss with his lips. Arthur is barely able to hide the laughter that bubbles up in his chest at the ridiculousness of the situation, but his amused smile is obvious for the knight to see.

It’s when Gwaine thrusts forward again that Merlin practically yowls, thankfully he’s muffled by Arthur’s spit slicked prick. The knight moans in response to Merlin’s noise whereas Arthur chuckles as the servant’s muscles tighten around him.

“Feel good does it?” Arthur brushes the damp hair off of Merlin’s forehead.

“Nnn” Merlin does his best to nod given his current position.

Gwaine’s thrusts pick up a little speed and Merlin quickly becomes a mewling mess, spittle dripping down his chin as he mouths along Arthur’s cock. With Gwaine increasing his speed the squelching noises of the oil become more obscene. And Arthur has to restrain himself from fucking into Merlin’s throat.

“Mmm. like being filled from both ends?” Arthur continues, “Being shared between the two of us? Is that why you’re finally fucking behaving tonight? Were you cranky because you needed to be filled up?” Arthur accentuates his point with a small roll of his hips.

Merlin continues his sultry whimpering and Arthur can't help but thrust into his servant’s mouth.
The raven keens as he slides his tongue around Arthur’s girth. Gwaine thrusts a little harder and Merlin is shoved further onto Arthur’s cock.

Merlin makes a slight choking noise that has Arthur’s desire flare under his skin.

With each of Gwaine’s thrusts Merlin gets shoved onto Arthur’s cock and the servant feels so full. He feels as Gwaine moves his hands from his arse, his calloused hands dragging across his skin before settling on his hips where he grips before increasing his speed further.

Merlin sees stars as Gwaine brushes against his prostate again. Merlin thrashes as pleasure shoots through him. Arthur thrusts again into his mouth and Merlin chokes again the smallest amount but it feels so good, pleasuring both Arthur and Gwaine, making them feel good, being theirs to use, theirs to make an utter mess of.

With each increasingly harsh thrust of Gwaine’s Merlin lets out more and more little mewling moans that vibrate through Arthur’s prick and he shoves his cock further into his servant's mouth chasing his growing tipping point.

Merlin feels so full he feels like he could burst. His magic is fighting to be released, there’s no space inside him for anything other than the two knights and he has to clench his muscles to keep it from bursting out of him.

Gwaine hits that spot inside him dead on in a sensual roll of his hips and Merlin cums with a shout, his spend spurting onto the leaf covered ground below him.

His muscles contract in tight spasms around Gwaine and the knight’s thrusts become frantic as he chases his release.

Merlin’s eyes scrunch shut as he cums, but he still doesn’t stop sucking on Arthur’s cock, in fact the suction becomes even greater, almost unbearable. Arthur moans lowly and his sound is echoed by the knight who throws his head back.

“Shit, gonna fill you up so much Birdie. You’ll be dripping with our seed.” Gwaine moans. He tightens his hands on Merlin until they are near bruising before pulling Merlin onto his cock, working the boy to meet his thrusts.

Gwaine nearly pulls Merlin off the prince’s cock and Merlin frantically increases the pressure of his mouth, as if trying to keep Arthur’s prick from escaping.

“Merlin.” Arthur warns as his balls tighten but Merlin swirls his tongue and the prince is gone, cum filling his servant's mouth. A gruff broken groan leaves Arthur’s mouth and it pushes Gwaine over the edge.

Arthur looks over to see Gwaine’s lips parted, eyes locked on Merlin’s arse as the knight's arm muscles flex as he fills the raven.

Merlin is vaguely aware of the hot fluid filling him up. Everything feels so far away, the only sensations he can feel are those from the knights and even then they seem slightly muted, even his magic feels far away as he floats in an ethereal lake of bliss.

They all stand there for a few moments panting for air. Arthur is the first one to withdraw, a string of saliva connects his spent prick to Merlin’s mouth as he pulls out. Gwaine takes another moment before following, cum trickles out of Merlin’s hole once he extracts himself and Merlin gives a small throaty whine.

Gwaine is quick to clean himself off before putting his trousers back on. When he looks back Arthur has also cleaned himself and is currently pulling his breeches up, meanwhile, Merlin is standing there looking dazed and confused as cum drips down his thighs.

“Oh Birdie,” Gwaine coos walking over to the still fully nude young man. Merlin turns his head to look at him but his eyes are hazy and far away. “It’s okay, we’ll get you cleaned up.” He runs a hand through Merlin’s hair.

“That is,” Gwaine pauses, looking at Arthur who is watching them, “If you’d like me to help you with the aftercare? I’ll take no offense if you say no.”

There’s another pause before Arthur speaks up slightly unsure, “Aftercare?”

Gwaine’s eyes go wide with shock but his surprise is quickly tamped down by anger. A million thoughts fly through his mind at once, most being on behalf of Merlin.

Gwaine takes a deep breath trying to calm his sudden anger. “I suppose they didn’t teach you about it in etiquette lessons.” His voice is terser than he intended. “I mean I understand,” Gwaine sighs, “it’s not your fault you didn't know, and it’s not in the book, how could you have known.” Gwaine brushes his hand through Merlin’s hair again, the servant's eyes flutter as he pushes into the touch.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Arthur can’t help but be offended at the implication that his upbringing was somehow lacking.

“Easy princess, I’m just here to help, remember?” Gwaine gives him a stern but meaningful look.

Some of the anger fades from Arthur’s stance but he still looks a bit on edge.

Gwaine continues, not willing to let them walk away without this information, “Aftercare is when you, well, care afterwards, for people who, like Merls, get so into it. They tend to become especially vulnerable and can even get heartsick. It happens from being so happy and blissed out only for those feelings to fade too quickly.”

Gwaine looks back at the boy, still hazed in a fog of pleasure. A pang of pity throbs in his chest at the knowledge he hasn’t been getting what he needs.

“That’s-” Arthur is going to say 'ridiculous' when Gwaine shoots him a lethal glare that has him shutting his mouth. The prince looks at Merlin, he does look, well, he looks quite ravished, but he does seem like perhaps he isn’t all there. But how- Arthur doesn’t even know- he doesn’t want Merlin to get heartsick.

Gwaine must be able to see Arthur’s turmoil because he speaks up, his face softening a bit.

“I can show you if you’d like, or I can-” Gwaine stops mid-sentence knowing Arthur wouldn’t like to be told what to do, “explain what to do.”

Merlin nuzzles into his hand again as his motions have slowed down.

“Show me.” Arthur says, taking only a minor hit to his pride. He can’t help it, even though Gwaine is a little older and much more experienced with these things, for him a prince to be lacking in any way, it’s shameful.

“Alright, if I step over any lines or you want me to stop, I’ll gladly let you take over, princess.” Gwaine assures before pulling Merlin’s naked body into his chest.

Merlin nuzzles softly into him.

“It’s alright Birdie, we’ve got you.” Gwaine pets his hair for a few moments letting the boy relax against him. “Gotta clean you out alright?”

Merlin hums distantly and Gwaine pulls a hankie out of his pocket.

“I’ll do it.” Arthur walks over. He hadn’t meant to interrupt so quickly but he had promised he’d show Merlin how to do it himself last time. Even though Merlin looks in no way able to retain any information the least Arthur can do is do it for him.

Gwaine easily agrees and Arthur kneels down and starts cleaning Merlin out. It's a strange feeling to clean Merlin of someone else's spend, but it’s strange in a way that has Arthur worried he might have just discovered one of his own kinks.

Gwaine coos and praises Merlin as Arthur does his work.

Once the servant is as clean as he is going to get without a bath, Arthur pulls his smalls and trousers up. He does what he can with the laces but they look rather messy as he has little practice with such things.

Arthur takes a step back watching how Gwaine is being so soft with Merlin. It stirs something in Arthur. His revelation from earlier coming back in full force, his desire not to share Merlin emotionally. But it’s Gwaine and he needs to see what this ‘aftercare’ is.

“Alright Birdie, arms up.”

Merlin half heartedly raises his arms allowing Gwaine to slide the fabric over him.

Merlin seems a bit more with it now but he still doesn’t seem like he’s all there. It’s strange to see his usual sharp best friend so… sated?

Gwaine sits back and pulls Merlin into his chest. The servant follows, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“It’s alright Birdie.” Gwaine purrs, soothing his hands over Merlin’s cheeks the way one might do with a cat.

Merlin melts into the touch.

This is… strange. Merlin is aware of everything but it feels so far away and fuzzy. He’s still weightlessly floating somewhere just out of reach but Gwaine’s rough hands keep grounding him.

Merlin leans against Gwaine, resting his face in the crook of the knight's neck. His arms are warm around him as the cold of the night air starts to creep its way into his bliss.

Arthur watches as Gwaine hugs and practically cuddles Merlin, praising him all the while.

There’s a moment of silence as Gwaine just enjoys the solid weight of his best mate against him. It’s comforting.

Arthur breaks the silence when he asks incredulously, “This is aftercare?”

“Yes. Some people like or need certain things and dislike others. It’s about what your partner needs.”

Arthur suddenly feels awkward and hot and unsure.

“So I’m meant to coddle him? Like some sort of child?”

Merlin tenses in Gwaine’s arms but the knight holds onto him steadily.

“Arthur!” Gwaine seethes loudly, uncaring if he’s heard by their comrades now.

Gwaine calling him by his name rather than ‘princess’ catches him off guard but he’s quick to recover. “Well look what you’re doing! You’re cuddling him!” Arthur sneers, his heart starts pounding a bit quicker.

There’s a moment of tense silence as Gwaine comes to a realization. One of these days he’s going to smack this stubborn prat of a prince upside his head.

“You do it.”

“What?”

“You’ve seen me do it, you do it for him now.”

Arthur’s heart picks up a little more.

“What?! Absolutely not.”

“Princess you’re gonna have to. If not tonight then next time, otherwise he-”

“He’s been fine this whole time!”

“How would you know!” Gwaine shouts back. Merlin curls in on himself a bit more, the uncomfortable tight feeling from yesterday reappearing in his chest as the blissful feeling fades away so quickly he almost feels like he’s falling.

“Because I kno-”

“No princess! Have you asked him?! Have you asked him how he feels about this? That he has to sleep with someone! Or that he trusted you enough with this only for you to be too dense to even give him a fucking hug?! He was so worried about ‘using’ you when you’re the one using him and this damn spell for your own satisfaction!”

Merlin abruptly stands up, so quickly that it makes him a little dizzy. His legs wobble from their recent activities but he shakes it off. “Stop it! Both of you!” His voice is hoarse and angry but strong all the same.

Both of the knights eyebrows go up in shock.

He points an accusing finger at Arthur, “Don't assume you know how I feel.” He turns to point at Gwaine, “And I am not going to force Arthur to do something he finds uncomfortable.”

“It’s a damn hug.” Gwaine scoffs.

“It makes him uncomfortable!”

“So uncomfortable that he is going to risk you getting heartsick and depressed?!” Gwaine takes a deep breath that turns into a sigh, his features morph into something sad, “Why is his comfort more important than yours?”

“That’s enough Gwaine.” Merlin hisses.

“If you’re not going to look out for yourself then I’m going to do it for you!” Gwaine takes another breath as Merlin looks away, face pained. “Merls, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I know.” Merlin's reply is quiet, nearly a whisper in the air between the three of them.

“I’m not going to hur-” Arthur pipes up again but Merlin cuts him off.

“Don’t Arthur. Not right now.”

There’s an awkward pause for a few moments, the only sound around them the crickets melodically chirping away.

Gwaine runs a hand through his hair as he looks between the two. “I’ll give you two a moment.” The knight takes a few steps back in the direction of the camp before turning around again. “If you need me just shout Merls, I’ll just be making sure my sword is extra sharp.”

Merlin’s mouth twitches. Arthur grumbles something but Gwaine’s fairly certain he hears the word ‘treason’.

With minutely easing the tension the knight makes his exit to their campsite.

The prince and his servant stand there awkwardly for a few moments.

Then a few more moments...

And then a few more.

It’s Merlin who speaks up first, turning back to face Arthur.

“I’m not going to make you do anything that makes you uncomfortable, Arthur.” Merlin sighs defeatedly, “I just, thought you should know that.”

Merlin turns and takes a few steps in the direction of the camp before Arthur calls out to him.

“Wait,”

Merlin stops but doesn’t turn around.

“Have- have you been feeling like that? Like how Gwaine said.”

Arthur doesn’t need an answer from the way Merlin’s shoulders tense. Ever so easy to read but always still a mystery somehow.

Arthur continues before Merlin can try to lie, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Merlin’s eyes start to sting with unshed tears. It’s not like him to cry this easily, perhaps Gwaine’s words have more credence than he originally believed.

He wants to answer Arthur truthfully, tell him that he just thought this feeling was the hurt of his affection never being able to be returned. That his yearning for something more intimate scared him because he knew Arthur would say no, that the prince wouldn’t want to do anything affectionate, anything soft.

“I told you before. I am not going to force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“I can’t assume how you feel but you can assume how I feel?” Arthur asks tersely.

Merlin turns around to face the prince again, his eyes take a moment to find him in the dark. “Arthur, you’ve made it clear to me in the past how you feel about hugs. It’s fine, really.”

Arthur makes a noise Merlin can only describe as a frustrated growl as he stomps up to the servant.

Before Merlin can say anything Arthur wraps one arm around his waist and brings the other to Merlin's head before dragging the boy into his chest, shoving his head into the crook of his neck.

“Arthur!” Merlin thrashes in his arms but Arthur keeps his hold steady. “Let me go you prat! I don't want to make you do these things, stop being ridiculous, it’s fine just let me go.”

“Stop assuming how I feel.” Arthur’s voice is surprisingly calm next to Merlin's ear.

“But-”

“You haven’t asked me, just like how I hadn’t asked you before. Stop assuming, you idiot.” Arthur manages to make the insult sound like an endearment.

“But-”

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice is tired, not wanting to argue anymore.

“You promise it’s okay?” Merlin asks, his voice unsure, not emotionally prepared for either answer.

“Yes.”

“You don’t mind?”

“No.”

And Merlin wants to ask, wants to ask if Arthur wants to. But he doesn't.

“alright.” Merlin’s voice is small as he nuzzles into his neck, relaxing into Arthur’s hold.

Arthur feels his own body ease in turn, it’s…strange... strange but... warm.

Merlin’s initial terms of endearment ranking: 5
Merlin’s final terms of endearment ranking: 7
Merlin’s final threesome ranking: 8.9

Voyeurism
Gaining pleasure from watching sexual acts.
Merlins initial rating: 5

The rain thunders against the walls of the inn, the door rattles and creaks from the forceful gusts of wind that batter against the building.

“I’m so sorry, we only have a few rooms left.” The innkeep tells Arthur. She’s a frail woman in her early forties perhaps, hair tied back with a pale yellow cloth.

“But.” She goes on, “I’ll go ask some of the guests to vacate, I’m sure they’ll understand when they learn our knights are in need of rest.”

“Oh, no, please, that's not necessary.” Arthur answers quickly, “My men can share, there’s no need to go to such measures.”

While Arthur would rather not have to share a room, he wasn’t going to have the innkeeper kick some poor souls out into the raging tempest just on their behalf. He isn’t sure the last time he’d seen a storm this bad.

“Are you sure? We only have three rooms left.” The innkeeper frets, wringing her hands together.

Three rooms for the seven of them. “Yes, thank you.” Arthur places some coins on the counter.

“Well if we are sharing rooms, I call Merlin.” Lancelot announces.

Arthur abruptly turns around to his men, and Merlin, they’re all sopping wet, dripping small puddles onto the worn wooden floor, hair and capes plastered to their bodies.

“No fair! I wanted Merlin.” Gwaine contests.

“If one of you gets Merlin I want Elyan.” Percival chimes in.

“Absolutely not, Merlin is my servant, he’s staying with me.” Arthur pauses, eyeing Lancelot suspiciously, “Why would you even want to share a room with this blistering fool?”

“Well, he’s small, he takes up less space.” Lancelot shrugs, “And one of my closest friends, not that you all aren’t, but” Lancelot tapers off.

“But what?” Arthur asks impatiently.

Lancelot’s not dumb, he’s seen how Merlin has been a bit.. off lately. Especially yesterday, there was a strange tension between him and Arthur. And whatever it is, Gwaine seems to either be aware of or part of the issue. Merlin had been much more reserved yesterday, something was clearly on his mind and Lancelot had been hoping to get him alone for a while so they could talk.

“It’s fine!” Merlin interrupts, all heads turning toward him. “I’ll just stay with Arthur, I have to take care of him anyway.”

“Didn’t know you had it in you Merls.” Gwaine snorts.

A few of the knights groan.

It takes a moment for the manservant to understand what he’s insinuating. “No! You perverted… you perverted…” Merlin racks his mind for the right word, “miscreant.” He mentally slaps himself.

“Why don’t we all just draw straws!?” Leon cuts in, clearly over their arguing.

They all agree, some more begrudgingly than others.

Merlin makes his way to the stable where they had left their horses.

When the boy returns, straws in hand, he is dripping more than he was previously. He doesn't feel any wetter though, his clothes already fully saturated.

The room is nicer than Merlin had expected. Granted they weren’t that far away from the city so it shouldn’t be too surprising. The rain had appeared with no warning and the paths quickly began to flood, even creating some small rivulets that had started to wash away parts of the ground. It would have been impossible to get the horses back safely in this weather, so they made their way to the closest village.

There’s an unlit fireplace on the right wall, next to it sits a pile of small logs, ready to be burned. The headboard of the bed is pushed against the left wall. Straight ahead of Merlin sits a window that the rain is currently drumming against arrhythmically. In the center of the floor is a fuzzy brown rug.

Merlin enters the room and tosses some logs into the fireplace, before bending down trying to ignite them using his flint. He can hear the rustling of bags behind him. Once the sparks catch the flame starts to grow steadily, he can feel the heat on his sodden face and hair.

Gwaine groans as he kicks off his boots, “Thank god it’s a double bed. I don’t think we’d fit in a single.”

Merlin hums in agreement as he takes off his jacket.

Arthur stumbles through the doorway, grouching about his bad luck.

Merlin lays his jacket out by the fire to dry. Yes… bad luck. Merlin absolutely did not use his magic so the three of them would have to share a room, nope, that did not happen. That would be ridiculous.

…Alright, maybe he did. But yesterday had been unbearably awkward between them. Merlin could feel the discomfort rolling off the prince all day. Even though Arthur had hugged him and said it was okay, he clearly wasn’t happy about it. Merlin is still refusing to acknowledge how he feels about that. Meanwhile Gwaine had been watching them extra closely and hadn’t been his easy-going self Merlin has come to rely on during their ventures.

So, getting stuck in a room together will surely help break some of the stiffness, right?

Merlin eyes Gwaine and Arthur as they adamantly avoid eye contact with each other. Merlin could understand Arthur feeling a bit bashful after what the three of them did, but Gwaine is far from the same boat. Clearly the tension between them was from their argument.

Merlin sighs untying his neckerchief to set it next to his jacket.

“Merlin.”

The servant turns around at his name. Arthur is looking at him with an exasperated expression, gesturing to his own body.

Right. “Sorry, sire.” He had been so focused on getting out of his own drenched clothes he hadn’t even thought about undressing Arthur.

Merlin’s socked feet squelch in his boots as he approaches the prince and starts undoing his hunting leathers. They’ll need to be cleaned and oiled when they return. He places the leather farther away from the fire to prevent them from drying out.

As Merlin undresses and re-dresses Arthur, he stays quite unsure of how to break this annoying tension; he can see Gwaine changing his clothes out of the corner of his eye.

Once Arthur is finally dried and dressed Merlin steps back over to the fire and starts undressing again. He’s beyond thankful that his water-proof enchantment has held up on their bags. He is careful not to disturb the clothes already drying by the fire as he adds his own. His toes are wrinkled as he takes off his socks, his trousers and shirt are quick to follow. He’s down to his smalls when he turns to grab his dry clothes and towel when he glances at the two knights, each sitting on opposite sides of the bed, legs dangling off the sides; both of whom look away as if they weren’t just watching him undress.

Merlin feels his face heat a bit but it’s nothing they haven’t seen before. He towels himself off quickly before discarding his smalls, opting to forego another pair as he slides into his sleeping breeches instead. His white sleeping tunic is next, the dry fabric feels comforting on his skin after being stuck out in the cold rain. He’s grateful he brought his sleep clothes on their multi-day hunting trip. By the looks of it Gwaine hadn’t the forethought as he is dressed in another pair of day clothes.

“Think this rain will last long, Merls?” Gwaine asks, looking out the window from his spot on the bed.

There’s something about this rain, how it appeared seemingly out of nowhere that unsettles the warlock.

“I’m honestly not sure.”

“What happened to your all knowing weather sense from before?” Arthur heckles, leaning back on his hands.

“I know you think I'm rather intelligent sire, but even my knowledge has its bounds.”

Gwaine snorts a laugh.

“I can assure you Merlin, I am fully aware of the limit to your astuteness.” Arthur’s voice drips with sarcasm.

Good, this is what Merlin had hoped for, being forced into a room together, for Arthur’s stubbornness to take a backseat so they could return to their amicable banter. And if he has to goad Arthur into it, then so be it.

“Well I’ll have you know-” Merlin starts but he cuts himself off with a gasp as he feels a sharp stab of pain in his stomach, he curls in on himself grabbing his abdomen.

Arthur and Gwaine both stand immediately, Arthur rushes to Merlin’s side whereas Gwaine readies his sword as if expecting someone to burst in and attack them.

By the time Arthur reaches him the pain is barely even noticeable.

“You okay?”

Merlin’s face unscrunches but his brow stays furrowed. That’s unusual, lately the pain has been getting worse each time, why is it not nearly as bad now? Hell, it’s not even as bad as the first time yet. It’s so small he can barely feel it now that the initial wave has passed.

“Yeah,” Merlin answers confused, trying to take further evaluation of his body. “I’m fine actually.”

Arthur looks at him incredulously as Gwaine sheaths his sword now understanding what’s going on.

“You sure Merls? I don’t think people who are fine bend over and gasp in pain.” Gwaine’s suspicion is clear on his face.

“No, yeah, I’m fine. It…” Merlin pauses thinking over his words, “It’s not as bad. Every time- ever since the first incident, the pain has been getting worse. But now it’s not nearly as bad, I have to focus to even feel it.”

“Maybe it’s getting better?” Arthur asks, tone indecipherable. While of course he wants Merlin to get better, another, greedier part of him, hopes it’s not true.

Gwaine slides his sword back under the bed, “Well has anything changed since last time?”

Merlin runs over the past couple of days in his mind, he hadn’t eaten anything different, nor cast any unruly spells or anything of the sort.

“Oh!” Merlin mentally slaps himself for not thinking of it sooner, “Last time, we… I discovered two. The one by the fire and… the other one.” He can feel his cheeks heat up at the reminder.

“So the more you partake in inbetween, the less pain you have?” Arthur raises a questioning eyebrow.

“It’s either that or it just slows down the pain.”

“Or,” Gwaine pipes up, “Could just be a fluke, for whatever reason.”

“It could be,” Merlin answers and shuffles in his bag pulling out his journal and a stick of charcoal, he starts scribbling down some notes. “But there’s only one way to know for sure.”

“And that is?” Arthur asks not taking his eyes off his servant.

Merlin looks up from his journal and eyes him in the infuriating way he does when he deems an answer obvious.

“Only do one this time and see if it goes back to normal or not.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Then it’s hopefully getting better… or the more I do the less the pain affects me, whether that’s intensity or time wise though, I’m not sure.” Merlin mumbles the latter half as he scribbles some more in his journal.

“Right.” Arthur ignores the unease bubbling inside him. “So, what’s the plan for right now then?”

Gwaine rolls his shoulders, “Well, I’m here, and you know I don’t mind helping.”

Arthur can’t help but roll his eyes. “What can you even help with?”

“Well, what’s next in the book princess?”

There’s a pause for a moment, Merlin looks at him expectantly as if he has the entire book memorized. Arthur sighs defeatedly before turning to his bag. He plods through to the bottom where he had wrapped the book in fabric, lest someone find it.

“See princess! Knew you were always prepared. So considerate.” Gwaine swaggers his way over.

“Sod off.” Arthur grumbles flipping to where they left off in the book.

Merlin watches as Gwaine rounds Arthur to read the book beside him.

It is considerate that Arthur packed the book, Merlin knows for a fact he hadn’t put it in there when packing the prince’s things. Merlin turns back to his journal, refusing to acknowledge the sugary feeling that rears its head with Arthur being considerate towards him yet again.

“Well we don’t really have the supplies for that one.” Merlin hears Gwaine mumble to Arthur then the soft turning of a page. The knights murmur amongst themselves and Merlin tries to focus on updating his notes about this spell.

Arthur stares at the page, he can practically feel the energy pouring off the knight next to him.

“Well I mean how else are you two supposed to go about that?”

Arthur sighs and turns to face his knight. Gwaine is raising a questioning brow at him but he is clearly trying to fight down a smile.

“It’s actually perfect,” Gwaine continues, “since his pain isn’t as bad right now.”

He’s right. Arthur knows he’s right. And while Arthur doesn’t mind, it still feels like doing this will somehow affect his pride.

“Come on princess,” Gwaine’s voice lilts “you make all the calls, I’ll listen.” The knight winks flirtatiously.

While it’s clear Gwaine means what he says the knight doesn’t have that same dreamy look Merlin gets when he says he’ll listen. Arthur eyes Gwaine, the knight no longer able to hide his smile and Arthur is hit with a fantastic idea.

“Alright, first, we set some ground rules.”

“Aye aye princess just say the words.”

Merlin has finished his notes but his mind has started to wander as he stares into the fireplace, the flames dance across the logs.

Thinking about it, Arthur is most likely attracted to men, right? Why else would the prat not have stopped by now? Unless his sense of duty is so strong he just continues to plow on (literally). Or perhaps his guilt from Merlin being hit with the spell in his stead pushes him to keep going. But Merlin knows he’s slept with women before, maybe he likes both? He supposes that’s possible.

There’s another pang of pain, this one much less prominent than the first, it quickly fades back to a dim throbbing feeling, though he no longer has to focus on it to feel the slight pressure.

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice startles him out of his thoughts. “Come here.”

Merlin tosses his journal and charcoal onto his bag and totters over to the prince, who has a stern look on his face.

“Yes sire?”

Arthur tosses the book onto the bed. “As we both know, in regards to your patience, you have been rather obstinate lately.”

Merlin’s stomach drops, already not liking where this is going.

“And last time,” Arthur continues, “you dared to talk back to not only me, but one of my knights as well.”

“Tsk, tsk.” Gwaine clicks his tongue from where he stands next to the prince, shaking his head disapprovingly.

Merlin holds his tongue, knowing whatever the knights have planned will surely be worse if he speaks out against them.

“You blatantly disrespected me in front of one of my men. How do you think it looks when my servant disobeys me? Hmm?” Arthur’s voice is stern and icy.

Merlin sets his jaw, unwilling to condemn himself to more of whatever punishment this is clearly going to be.

“Well,” Gwaine says as he walks past Arthur and Merlin, wrapping his arm around the servant’s waist as he passes by. “It’s quite embarrassing sire.”

“I agree, Sir Gwaine.” Arthur says using his ‘royal prat voice’, “And that is why Merlin, tonight you will finally be getting a lesson in patience.”

Arthur walks around him but when Merlin starts to follow the prat puts his hands on his shoulders. “Stay here.”

Now that Merlin’s turned he can see Gwaine kneeling on the ground a few feet away.

“Gwaine has been briefed and is aware of our word if you need to use it, or your pain gets too bad. And don’t even think about lying.” Arthur pauses for a moment solely to build tension.

“You are to stay put. You are going to be patient and wait. You are not to touch yourself nor either one of us.”

A ball of dread forms in Merlin’s chest, now understanding what is happening.

“Am I understood?”

“Yes.” Merlin grits out.

Arthur grabs his chin roughly. “Yes, what?”

“Yes sire.” Merlin can’t help but emphasize his title in his usual sardonic tone.

Arthur eyes his lips before speaking. “Good.” The prince lets go of his chin and pats his cheek in a rather patronizing way before settling on the floor next to Gwaine.

Arthur brings his hand to the back of the knight’s neck and brings their faces close enough that their lips nearly brush together.

“Oh and one more thing,” Arthur smirks malignantly, “no looking away.”

And the prince brings his lips to Gwaine’s.

There’s a small flicker of jealousy in Merlin’s stomach but it's immediately abated when both men open their eyes and they are watching him.

Merlin can’t help but suck in a breath of air at the intensity of their fierce gazes. Their eyes are lidded, teasing amusement swirling about each of them, but both blue and brown gazes are heated with an almost bloodthirsty desire.

Arthur bites at Gwaine’s bottom lip prompting the knight to open his mouth, but rather than explore each other's mouths they lick and slide their tongues together in the space between them, allowing Merlin to see exactly what they are doing.

While it should feel strange seeing the man who has held his affection for ages touching and being touched, it’s not. Because Merlin knows they are doing this for him, because of him, it’s thrilling in a way words can’t describe. They want to show off for Merlin, to punish him, to keep his attention, the knowledge has embers stirring in his stomach. Even with someone else in front of him, Arthur watches him. They both do. While Merlin may not be getting touched right now, he is certainly getting the attention he has been craving all these damn years. It makes him feel wanted, desired. It gives him a sense of dominion that he is wholly unfamiliar with.

Merlin can feel his prick start to fill out with every pound of his quickening pulse. He does his best to keep his breathing steady, not wanting the knights to know how much they are already affecting him.

Gwaine kneels up so his arse is no longer sat on the back of his heels and he pulls Arthur up by the band of his trousers into the same position, bringing them chest to chest. Gwaine moves one hand to grip at the prince’s waist while Arthur brings his hand to the knight's hair to grab, though not nearly as harshly as he typically does with his servant, but not intimately either. While their movements are fluid and sultry they lack the kindling tension that Merlin gets with Arthur, though it is no less rousing to watch.

Gwaine lets out a gruff and gravelly moan, it’s a little over the top, and it’s then Merlin has the foreboding realization that these are the two most performative knights. They always make sure to put on the best show they possibly can for the crowds during tourneys, soaking up all the attention they possibly can. Even during training if anyone stops to watch, no matter what they are doing, they make sure to enthrall and captivate anyone willing to give them the time of day.

He’s so fucked.

Merlin swallows harshly, trying to focus on anything other than his fervently blooming arousal.

Gwaine moves the hand not on Arthur’s hip to the prince’s firm arse, the blonde tosses his head back with a moan, all the while their eyes never leave Merlin, wordlessly demanding his attention. They move slowly against each other, taking their time, surely intending to prolong Merlin’s torture. Their muscles strain and flex under their clothes as they grind against one another.

With Arthur’s head thrown back Gwaine takes that opportunity to slide his tongue from Arthur’s clavicle, over his adams apple, to his jaw, where the prince gives another audacious moan. But it’s the way Arthur’s gaze drops to Merlin’s now very prominent arousal that tells Merlin he is the one who has the prince enraptured.

The way their lewd gazes hungrily roam over Merlin’s body makes him feel as if they are getting off to him. It fills him with an urgent wanton neediness he can’t describe.

Merlin squirms restlessly, his cock almost painfully hard already. Even if he was allowed to, he doesn't think he could look away. His cock is so hard and throbbing, he itches to touch it, to even just rub the heel of his hand against it for some kind of relief, but he doesn’t.

“Who knew anything so pleasant sounding could come out of your mouth princess.” Gwaine teases.

Arthur cuffs the knight upside his head, drawing his gaze from Merlin solely to hit the knight and thank the triple goddess; it breaks the moment enough for Merlin to regain a fraction of his sanity.

Arthur looks back to Merlin, his gaze dark and calculating and then he smiles. Merlin’s dread builds tenfold.

Without looking away from the servant Gwaine goes back to laving at Arthur’s neck and the prince rolls his whole body into the knight’s. Gods, Merlin isn’t sure he’s ever seen anything as arousing.

The dynamic switches between them as Arthur drags Gwaine up by his hair to attack his mouth, making sure Merlin gets the best possible view of how their tongues salaciously slide together. Gwaine grunts gruffly as he grinds his very clear erection against Arthur’s. Both of them still never looking away from the servant. There’s something inside Merlin telling him that he shouldn’t be watching, that it’s perverse and depraved, and as much as Merlin feels like he should be embarrassed he can't find it in himself.

Merlin watches as their clothed stiffened pricks rub against each other and he has to stop a moan from escaping his own mouth. He’s so hard now his cock is practically straining against his abdomen now. There are blots of small damp patches from his precum. He is severely regretting not having put on another pair of smalls.

Arthur brings his hands to Gwaine’s upper thighs just under the knight's arse and pulls the brunette against him roughly, the knight answers with an unabashed and rugged moan as his eyes flutter but never leave the raven.

Gwaine brings his hand on Arthur’s arse to the prince’s erection and fondles him through the cream colored fabric.

Merlin’s breath hitches as he fights down a whimper. He clenches his fists into the fabric of his sleeping trousers on the outside of his thighs, looking for anything to ground himself. He can feel as his defiant defense starts to crack.

“Shit.” Arthur hisses before bringing his hand to Gwaine’s bulge to reciprocate.

“Mmph” The knight’s eyes roll in pleasure at the contact but they are quick to find their way back to Merlin.

When the knight looks back to Merlin he sees his pretty blue eyes flash pink. Merlin lets out the smallest gasp, but Arthur must deem it excusable, given the source, since he doesn’t say anything.

They are both panting hard, chests heaving against one another. Their faces are flushed and the color in their eyes is almost completely overtaken by the abyss of their pupils. They both look sinfully alluring. Merlin aches to take a few steps forward to get some kind of damn friction on his cock, even if they punish him further, he’ll take it. But he can’t, not at the risk of his punishment being to wait longer.

The knights start writhing against each other's hands as licentious grunts and moans spill from their kiss swollen lips.

With each noise that falls from the knights Merlin can feel his balls tighten more and more and he needs release needs to be touched, gods he needs anything please.

With a particularly erotic and throaty groan from Arthur, as Gwaine closes his hand around the prince’s clothed cock and tugs, Merlin can’t stop the petulant sounding whine that rips out of his chest. The servant tightens his grip on the fabric of his pants, shame floods through him as his pride takes a large hit at the feeling of somehow being defeated. Gods it hasn’t even been that long, he’s pathetic. But he can't help it. He needs it so bad, he’s never needed anything so severely before in his life.

Merlin can feel it, his magic is clawing at his chest wanting nothing more than to reach out and entangle itself in the two men in front of him. He has to grapple with himself to not let it out. He tightens his muscles but it only emphasizes the primal need pullulating in his lower gut.

At the sound of his desperate whine Arthur pulls back from Gwaine before smugly asking, “What’s this? Is someone being impatient?”

Merlin’s eyes widen in fear as he fervently shakes his head side to side.

Arthur moves to stand up and Gwaine follows a moment later.

If Merlin wasn’t already as tense as physically possible he would have surely tightened his muscles further as the prince starts to approach. He doesn't let himself get his hopes up, he knows Arthur too well. The prat has a flair for being decidedly sadistic, relishing in Merlin’s discomfort, whether that be professional or otherwise, though the latter is a more recent development.

Gwaine hangs back a moment to watch what Arthur decides to do.

“Oh Merlin.” Arthur condescends, as if talking to a child. A tone he knows pisses off Merlin to no end. So much so that he rarely decides to use it.

Merlin puffs out an angry breath but doesn’t rise to the bait.

“We were just getting started. Already getting impatient are you?” the corner of Arthur’s glistening mouth twitches.

Merlin glares daggers at him, no, he glares long swords at him. It’s the only thing he can do to not reach out and beg the prince to fucking touch him.

A devilish smile makes its way onto Arthur’s face. “You look frustrated.”

Merlin nearly laughs but just stops himself.

“Well,” Arthur continues, his tone apathetic “this is a punishment after all.”

The prince starts undoing the laces on Merlin’s trousers, taking care to not brush against his erection. He moves the fabric around his cock making sure not to make contact as he slides them down his legs.

As he moves his breeches down Arthur gets onto his knees and Merlin’s heart leaps in hope.

The prince drags his hands up the outside of Merlin’s thighs to his hip bones before softly caressing back down. He watches amusedly as his servant’s cock flagrantly dribbles onto the floor.

“Gwaine,” Arthur calls.

“How can I help princess?”

“Feel free to touch him.”

Merlin’s eyebrows shoot up and Arthur’s grin only grows. “Of course just not his prick, or inside him.”

A small snarl tears out of Merlin’s throat, his magic fizzling under his skin buzzing to be released, he sneers at the prince.

“Perhaps your next lesson will be another in obedience, since the first one clearly didn’t work.” Arthur taunts.

Merlin bites down on his lip to stop himself from saying anything he’ll regret.

Arthur watches jovially as a variety of emotions flash across his servant’s face, the most prominent being rage and want.

Gwaine walks around and shoots Merlin a small apologetic grimace, though he still looks very aroused by the situation, enough that he won’t disobey Arthur on his behalf.

The knight walks behind him and places small kisses on his neck, reaching around he teases his hands along the bottom of his sleeping shirt.

“You haven’t been very good have you?” Arthur’s breath is hot on his thigh, causing his cock to do a rather poignant twitch. He can feel the prince's smile on his leg.

When Merlin doesn’t answer he only feels Arthur’s smile widen.

“You are allowed to answer me.”

Merlin still doesn’t say anything, not only not trusting his voice but fearful he won’t be able to hold his tongue and lash out at the prat.

Arthur finally looks up, though he keeps caressing his thighs. “Are you going to keep disobeying me or are you going to be good and behave?” his voice lowers as he talks, each word laced with more danger than the last.

Merlin swallows trying to think about anything other than his prick that feels like solid steel.

“I understand that you think my behavior has been ornery.” Merlin grits.

He feels Gwaine soundlessly chuckle behind him.

“Oh I don't think so, I know so.” Arthur stands abruptly, bringing them to eye level. “Now, if you don’t start behaving,” the prince grabs his hair and pulls his head back harshly, “I can give you a real fucking punishment you insolent brat.” Arthur lets go of his hair roughly.

Merlin knows Arthur’s words should intimidate him, and they do in a sense, but more than anything they fuel his already egregious arousal.

“Okay.” Merlin mumbles, lowering his gaze subserviently.

“Go on.” Arthur caresses his cheek in a manner that is much too tender.

“I’ll be good.” Merlin’s face heats up and he ducks his head, Gwaine can see his blush as it creeps up the back of his neck.

“If you aren’t there will be severe consequences, understand?”

“Yes, sire.”

Arthur sucks in a breath, Merlin has never used his title so reverently before.

“Good.” His voice comes out hoarse and he adamantly ignores the knowing look Gwaine shoots him over Merlin’s shoulder.

Arthur kneels back down still making sure not to accidentally touch Merlin’s straining cock.

The prince places soft barely there kisses along his hip bones as he moves his hands back to his thighs.

Gwaine presses kisses just below the servant’s ear as he skims his fingertips up his chest. He can feel Merlin’s muscles twitch at the ticklish sensation under his digits.

Arthur laps his tongue over Merlin’s right hip bone and sucks hard, but he makes sure not to leave any marks.

Arthur’s mouth is so close to his groin Merlin could scream in frustration, his fingers twitch wanting to reach out and grab his blonde locks and drag his mouth down onto his prick since he is only this hard because of him. Alright, maybe it was Merlin’s fault the three of them ended up sharing a room but he truly didn't think anything like this would ensue.

Gwaine brushes over Merlin’s nipples with his calloused hands and Merlin sucks in a shuddering breath.

“Like that do you?” Gwaine chuckles and runs his hands over them again but with more pressure this time.

Merlin can’t help it, his hips thrust forwards. Thanks to his reflexes Arthur is able to move just quick enough so he doesn’t touch Merlin’s cock. He glares up ready to reprimand Merlin when he sees the cause of his movement.

He supposes he can let it slide tonight, since it was truly an involuntary movement.

Arthur leans back and scrapes his teeth over Merlin’s hip bone and the servant shivers as more precum drips down onto the floor.

Gwaine gives a small tweak to his left nipple and Merlin thrashes. Lightning shoots down his sternum into his lower abdomen.

“P-please!” Merlin begs as he tries to stop his body from reacting, “Please I can’t- I can’t please please.” His magic is bursting at the seams.

“But you can, and you will.” Arthur drags his hand up his inner thigh and stops just before touching his servant’s taut bollocks.

“Again, if you would Gwaine.”

The knight coos, “It’s okay Birdie, so good, being so good for us hmm?” He pinches his right nipple this time and it earns the same reaction.

“Please sire please,” Merlin sobs, tears sting his eyes and quickly start to trail down his cheeks. “I’ll be so good I promise! I’m sorry! So sorry, please.”

Arthur leans back and takes in the stunning display, thick tears make their way down his servant's face as he begs for release. The prince is filled with a steadfast, guttural pleasure, appeased with Merlin finally crumbling. He ignores Gwaine’s chuckled ‘sadistic bastard’.

“Okay.” Arthur states, Merlin’s sobs quiet down in volume but still rack through his body. “But, this is a lesson in patience. And you disrespected me and Sir Gwaine. So you make us cum however you want but we won’t touch you anywhere you need until you satisfy both of us.”

Merlin sobs but agrees, knowing this is the only way he is going to be able to find release.

“Okay, you are allowed to touch us now.”

Almost immediately Merlin spins around and nearly tackles Gwaine to the ground even as sobs still tear through him.

The irony of making Arthur wait until after Gwaine isn’t lost on the prince. He knows Merlin is doing it on purpose.

Gwaine stumbles his way onto the floor as Merlin all but tears his trousers off.

“Woah there Birdie.” Gwaine teases.

Trousers and smalls now around his ankles, Merlin crawls over the knight's legs until he is straddling his knees. He bends over taking Gwaine’s cock into his mouth and the knight hisses at the sudden stimulation. Merlin bobs his head twice, making sure his cock is wet, he then brings his hand to the man's shaft.

As Merlin moves up and down the knight’s length he uses his hand to add more stimulation and reach down to the base where he can’t quite get to without gagging. The servant tactfully wiggles his arse, which is on full display for the prince in this position.

The way Merlin swirls and wraps his tongue is wicked and purposeful. With how on edge the knight already was it doesn’t take Gwaine long to cum. The taste stokes Merlin's arousal even more and he is sobbing again but he is sure to swallow every drop.

The second Gwaine’s cock stops throbbing Merlin veers on Arthur. Before Merlin can devour him in the same demonic crusade, Arthur places both hands on either side of his servant’s face.

“Hey,” his voice is calm and soft, “Be good, alright?” he strokes his thumbs across Merlin’s cheeks brushing away some of his tears.

Gwaine watches from the floor a few feet away, ravaged. Seeing Arthur so caring towards Merls, he knows it was the right call to tell the prince about the spell. While he may be a stubborn arse it’s clear he cares deeply for the boy.

Merlin whines, more tears fall down his cheeks as his words only worsen his need but he nods his head.

“Okay.” Arthur acquiesces.

Merlin’s hands are shaky and he fumbles with the tie on his trousers but he is able to get it.

While his movements are still fervent blaze he’s a tad slower. Arthur is unsure if it’s from his words or if he’s worried he’ll punish him further if his hurriedness might come off as impatience. And while it does, because it is impatience, Arthur isn’t going to punish him any further tonight. The prince would never let it slip that it’s because he wants Merlin to still enjoy pleasuring him.

Merlin is quick to take him into his mouth, it’s warm and slick and hot. Merlin sinks down onto him a few times, moaning all the while before he takes his hand and gently cups Arthur’s bollocks. The prince sucks in a sharp breath and Merlin picks up his speed.

Merlin’s tear-streaked cheeks and red eyes are too much with the stimulation Arthur warns Merlin but the servant keeps him in his mouth as Arthur finds his own blissful release, Merlin wasn’t the only one waiting that whole time after all. To be fair though, at least Arthur was able to find some tactile relief with Gwaine.

It only takes Arthur a moment to regain his wits. Gwaine is maneuvering a whimpering Merlin towards the bed. He guides the servant until his calves rest against the mattress. Arthur does up his sleeping trousers and makes his way over.

“Stay standing Birdie.” Gwaine whispers kindly.

Merlin can’t stop his pitiful tears, At this point he doesn’t care that he won’t last long, he just needs to be fucking touched for the love of the gods.

“Understand Birdie?” Gwaine asks, unsure if Merlin is with it enough to comprehend what he’s saying.

Merlin gives a shaky nod but an angry pout starts to form on his face.

“Shh, shh,” Arthur shushes. “It's okay, Birdie, we’ll take good care of you.” At the prince’s use of the nickname he glances over to Gwaine to gauge his reaction, if it’s okay for him to use it or not. The knight beams a blinding smile at him. Alright, good. Arthur sighs a small breath of relief.

Merlin hums in acknowledgment but if he doesn’t get relief in a matter of seconds he will burn this damn inn down.

“Okay, it’s okay Merls no need to get so extreme.” Gwaine laughs and Arthur chuckles too, getting to his knees.

Huh. he must have said that out loud, whoops.

Merlin’s near certain he is going to cum the moment he’s touched. But when Gwaine moves to get on his knees too, confusion clouds his already hazy, desperate mind.

Surprisingly he doesn’t instantly cum when Arthur places an open mouthed kiss on his cock. However, when Gwaine does the same on the other side of his prick he nearly does.

Both knights move their lips in caressing movements against his straining prick. Arthur swirls his tongue around Merlin and brushes against Gwaine’s lips. The knight is quick to reciprocate and then the two are lapping and kissing not only Merlin’s cock but each other as well.

Fuck. Fuck.

Merlin suddenly finds that he very much does care about cumming too soon. They move up and down his shaft working him in tandem. They kiss and suck and groan but as much as Merlin wants to see more of them both pleasuring him, he can’t hold on any longer.

He isn’t able to warn them but they feel the way he tightens up. Arthur places a stern hand on Gwaine’s arm as the prince moves and encases Merlin fully into his mouth.

The building of searing pressure peaks and he bursts, cumming with a shout into the prince’s mouth. He throws his head back, lips parted, eyes scrunched closed. He feels the slightest slip on the hold for his magic, there’s a powerful clap of thunder that rolls across the sky above the Inn.

The second he’s done cumming he sits on the bed behind him and falls onto his back with a content sigh.

Arthur swallows before standing. He’s about to ask if Merlin is okay when he peaks down at the boy only for a small snore to escape his servant’s mouth.

He looks over at Gwaine who shrugs but smiles brightly nonetheless. “Must have been quite tiring for him.”

Once they get Merlin’s trousers back on they haul him up into the center of the bed. Neither knight too keen on sleeping next to each other unless needed.

“Arthur.” Gwaine says just above a whisper after they’ve settled into bed, squishing a sleeping Merlin between them.

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad I told you about the spell.” Gwaine knows the prince will take care of Merlin.

There’s a pause before Arthur answers. “Me too.”

Merlin’s final rating: 12 (yes this is on a scale of 10)

Collaring
‘Collaring, the act of wearing a collar around one's neck.
Can be used as a form of control or proof of
possession / ownership. Typically made from
leather, can be inlined with spikes as a form of
punishment or further control.’

Merlin initial rating: 9

He’s late! Shit shit shit he’s late. He’s so dead. The sun is well past its rising point. Arthur’s going to have his head.

Merlin had been out nearly all last night tracking down the source of the raging storm that had assailed Camelot the past two days. The rain had slowed down yesterday morning but the wind had held up, ripping violent gales through the air. It had been so strong it ended up knocking trees over, even damaging some of the houses in the lower town.

Yet with the raging winds he and the knights were all able to make it back to the citadel safely on top of their steeds. Though Percival had been genuinely distraught that Merlin would get blown off his horse. Thankfully they arrived back home unharmed. Merlin had immediately got to discussing the abnormal nature of the storm with the Gaius. The physician had deduced that the storm was most likely conjured by a Druidic spirit guardian known as the Wind Fish.

Merlin had left immediately after their discussion in hopes of resolving the issue before the rain started back up or heavens forbid snow. It would have been detrimental to Camelot’s crop production as they are on the cusp of harvest season. Merlin knows all too well what an early frost can do to an already struggling village, let alone a blizzard.

In the end he was able to find the spirit in a small pond to the North of the city, thankfully the spirit was appeased easily enough just from the reassurances Emrys was able to give; promising that Magic will be brought back to the lands of Camelot in due time, once Arthur is crowned king.

By the time he had made it back to his chambers the sun had nearly started to rise, the black sky fading into dark blue, but he had been dead on his feet. He fell into his bed without even removing his boots in the hopes of getting a few minutes of rest. And that’s how he ended up sleeping in.

He bursts through Arthur’s chambers, chest heaving from exertion.

Arthur gives him a deadpan stare from where he is sat, already dressed, at his table, eating his breakfast.

“Good Morning Merlin. Or perhaps I should say ‘Good afternoon’.”

Merlin tries not to cringe from the reprimand. “Well,” his panting breath fills the air, “I wouldn’t say it’s afternoon yet.”

Arthur sighs clearly galled, “You say you slept in and yet it looks as if you didn’t get a wink of sleep.”

“Yeah it uhm- nightmares.” Merlin lands on.

Arthur minutely, he knows how bad nightmares affect Morgana so he feels a wave of pity for the boy.

Merlin hates lying, especially to Arthur, but he doesn’t really have much choice or explanation.

“Right.” Arthur clears his throat, “Well, we have a lot to do today.”

Merlin’s head shoots up from where he had been hunched over leaning on his knees. He had been fully expecting Arthur to double all his chores and make him muck out the stables or some other asinine chore that isn't even technically part of his duties.

“So, what’s first then?” Arthur asks before popping a grape into his mouth.

Merlin narrows his eyes at the prince. It would be imperceivable to anyone else, but Merlin can see the enthusiasm hidden in Arthur’s expression.

“Right,” Merlin’s voice is more suspicious than he had meant to let on but Arthur doesn’t seem to notice.

“Well, first you have knight training, and rather soon at that.” Merlin looks to the window, gauging where the sun is in the sky. “Then you are to go to the lower town and assess the damage from the storm. Once that is done you are to report the damages to your father during council. Then you are to see off the Northumbrian retinue. You’ll then have time for a late lunch but your evening is clear as of right now.”

“Excellent!” Arthur stands up from his chair. “Fetch my armor, we will head to the training field at once.”

Merlin furrows his brow as he eyes Arthur skeptically. Even his late arrival seems to not have dampened the prat’s bizarre good mood.

“Come on Merlin, I can’t be late. I have a reputation to uphold, unlike some people.” Arthur calls from where he is already standing at the door.

Merlin rolls his eyes but makes to follow the prince.

Training goes by quickly, Arthur’s good mood holding throughout. He bantered and jested with his men more than usual, putting them in high spirits as well.

He hadn’t even said anything about Merlin’s half-assed polishing of the training swords. To be fair Merlin was still gallantly fighting his exhaustion. Not that that had ever stopped Arthur’s pestering before.

“Elyan!” Arthur calls as he heads back over to Merlin now that their training is finished.

“Yes sire?” the knight trots up behind him.

Merlin hands his master a water skin which the prince gulfs down before answering Elyan.

“Drinks at the tavern tonight, on me. Tell the others.”

Merlin nearly drops the water skin as Arthur hands it back. He must truly be in an exuberant mood; he rarely goes out with the knights, let alone invites them himself. In fact, Merlin can’t remember a time he’s done so.

Elyan’s demeanor brightens immediately, “Of course sire.”

Merlin itches to ask but he’s afraid if he brings attention to it, it may dampen Arthur’s merriness.

“Come Merlin, I must go change, then we will make our way to the lower town.” Arthur walks away not turning to see if his servant follows.

Merlin stands there for a moment dumbfounded by Arthur’s pleasant attitude before stumbling his way after the prince.

Their trip into the lower town is somber. There’s more damage than they had anticipated, thankfully no lives were taken and the few injuries sustained were minor.

They walk around between houses and stores, the market hadn’t taken much damage but that meant the majority of the wreckage was to people's homes.

There are a few roofs that will need to be re-thatched, support beams that will need replacing, fences that will need re-posting, rubble that will need removing. With the help of two of Uther’s knights, Arthur inspects the damage to each affected building. Merlin writes down their findings on some parchment using a stick of charcoal as they make their way around the town.

Some people stop to say hello but most recognize that Arthur is on official business and don’t attempt to disturb him.

By the time they finish Merlin’s exhaustion starts catching up to him, his feet start to drag as he dutifully follows Arthur back to the citadel.

“Well, it’s lucky no one was seriously injured.” Arthur states, turning around to look at Merlin.

“Yeah, who knows what would have happened if the storm lasted any longer.” Merlin chuckles inwardly at himself.

“It’s true.” Arthur turns forward to pay attention to where he is walking. “We’re lucky it stopped when it did.”

Merlin feels a swell of pride at the words even though Arthur isn’t aware he’s the one who stopped the storm. Much like all his accomplishments.

They make small talk the rest of the way to the castle, well Arthur makes small talk, Merlin sleepily replies.

Uther’s knights ascend the steps heading to the council room. Arthur is about to follow when Merlin misses the first step and nearly faceplants into the stone.

“Christ’s sake Merlin.” Arthur exasperates. “Can’t even walk up the steps without knocking yourself out.”

Merlin feels a gentle pressure on his lower back, guiding him up the stairs. It takes his sleep deprived mind a few moments to realize it’s Arthur’s hand splayed against the small of his back.

His heart frantically skips a beat, surely from the adrenaline one gets when missing a step, no other reason. The heat on his cheeks is merely a side effect, and not at all because of Arthur’s doting hand on his back or the very much public touching that if one looked too closely at could come off as affectionate.

He subconsciously leans into the touch, the warmth from Arthur’s hand is comforting. The heat radiates through his shirt, it’s then Merlin realizes Arthur must have slipped his hand under his jacket, making the moment look all the more intimate.

Merlin finds himself much more awake suddenly, but he refuses to turn and look at the prince, lest he see the blush on his cheeks. He keeps his head down, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself from other servants and guards milling about the courtyard.

Arthur steers his servant up the steps. When Merlin ducks his head the prince can see the blush on the tips of his ears. While Merlin’s clumsiness can be rather distressing at times, Arthur has always found it an endearing trait. But the prince knows the boy’s blush is because he’s embarrassed from nearly falling, he isn’t naive enough to think otherwise.

They reach the top of the steps and Arthur reluctantly draws his hand away. “Well,” he clears his throat and Merlin looks back up at him, dark spots evident under his eyes. “Go get some rest.” Arthur waves him off, “Otherwise I’ll be scraping you up off the stone next time you decide to trip over nothing.”

As if he chooses when he trips and stumbles. Merlin stares at him dubiously before questioning, “Are you feeling alright sire?” Merlin brings the back of his hand to Arthur’s head with a slight ‘thunk’ noise.

Arthur swats his hand away sputtering, “Yes you idiot I’m fine. I just don’t feel like having to find a new manservant when you inevitably brain yourself on the next flight of steps.”

“Are you sure?” Merlin ignores the jest, “You aren’t feeling sick? Lightheaded? Floaty?” Arthur furrows his brow, “Enchanted perhaps?” Merlin squints his eyes looking for any signs of magic.

“Merlin, unless you would rather sit through this council meeting, I suggest you go to your chambers and rest.” Arthur’s tone is becoming more annoyed by the second.

“Ah, well,” Merlin hands the rolled parchment with his notes to Arthur, “who am I to disobey orders?”

Arthur bats the rolled parchment at Merlin’s head but the servant ducks in time, anticipating Arthur’s reaction, before scampering off.

“Merlin!” Arthur calls before his servant can get too far.

The raven turns around just before rounding the corner, looking expectantly at the prince. A look Arthur has become awfully fond of recently.

“I expect you back for my lunch. On time.”

“Of course, sire.”

Merlin heads off in the direction of Gaius' chambers.

Good. Arthur surmises, this day is turning out better than he hoped it could.

It’s much later in the day. Arthur had attended council and saw off the Northumbrian royalty. And as luck would have it Merlin hadn’t been around for Prince Elias to ogle as they said their adieu’s.

Much to Arthur’s surprise Merlin had in fact been on time to serve him his scheduled late lunch. After that he had his servant draw up a bath so he could finally wash away the lingering sweat from morning training that had been causing his clothes to stick to him all day in uncomfortable ways.

Merlin had just finished dressing him in a new pair of day clothes. He looks much better now, while perhaps not fully rested, the darkness under his eyes is gone and he seems to be aware of his surroundings, well, as aware of his surroundings that Merlin is capable of being.

As Merlin looks over Arthur, making sure his outfit is up to standard, Arthur speaks up,“Alright dollophead let’s head to the tavern.” Arthur brushes by Merlin, ruffling the younger’s hair.

Merlin gives him a very affronted and befuddled look, “Isn't it a bit early to head to the tavern?”

Arthur pivots on his heel, an incredulous expression on his face “Since when has it ever been too early for you to go to the tavern?”

“Well, I just mean, you’re not really one to spend much time at the tavern is all.”

“Merlin, I am the prince of Camelot, I shall do as I please.”

“I’m just saying, the knights might not be there yet.” Merlin looks out the window, it can’t be more than four hours past midday.

Arthur snorts a laugh before turning around and continuing his way out of his chambers, “I’m paying. They’ll have gone straight there after practice.”

Merlin doubts that, but he follows Arthur dutifully anyway.

All the knights, other than Leon, are already sat at a high-table when they enter, mugs of ale in their hands. Arthur turns and gives Merlin a very smug look of ‘I told you so.’ Merlin just rolls his eyes. With it being rather early there thankfully aren’t too many other patrons meandering about.

Elyan is the first to see them enter. “Ey if it isn’t the man of the hour!”

Gods how much have they drank already? They don’t look drunk per se but certainly buzzed.

“More like the man of the night.” Lancelot smiles brightly at the prince.

“So!” Gwaine speaks a little too loudly as Arthur and Merlin take their seats at the table, between Percival and Lancelot. “What’s the special occasion princess?”

Percival slides the new arrivals each a mug of ale.

“It’s just a good day. And I haven’t treated my men in a while.” Arthur shrugs.

“Well, I’ll drink to that!” Gwaine lifts his glass for the others to clink against.

“You’d drink to anything Gwaine.” Merlin snarks playfully, clinking his mug against the others before taking a sip.

“Even more so if I’m not the one paying.” Gwaine winks.

The conversation flows easily and the ale even easier. Though Arthur makes sure to pace himself not wanting to risk a hangover tomorrow, unlike his knights. Similarly, Merlin nurses his drink, laughing along as the knights poke and jest with each other.

The tavern starts to fill up with more and more patrons though no one dares to approach the prince and a table of knights… and Merlin.

It’s about two hours later, Merlin’s knee keeps brushing against Arthur’s in a way that’s almost teasing yet truly unintentional. He doubts Arthur even notices, he does his best to ignore the burgeoning feeling that has him wanting to lean into the blonde. Merlin takes another sip of his ale and listens amusedly to Elyan tease Lancelot for his obvious affections for his sister.

His knee brushes against Arthur’s again. To his bewilderment, Arthur pushes his knee back against the servant’s and leaves it there. Merlin glances at Arthur, he is listening to Elyan but the pompous smirk on the prat’s lips tells Merlin the prince is well aware of what he’s doing. Arthur takes a sip of his drink to hide his growing smile as he turns to look at his staring manservant.

Merlin turns back to the group quickly, the tips of his cute ears tinting red. Before Arthur can contemplate the boy’s reaction their missing member shows up.

Leon’s presence is met with a raucous cheer from their table. To which Leon seriously contemplates just turning around and heading back to the citadel. But Arthur had invited them and he was paying.

“About time you showed up.” Lancelot claps him on the shoulder as he squeezes in between him and Arthur. With another body at the table they all become rather squished. Merlin is extremely aware of how his and Arthur’s sides are pressed flush against one another. He glances over at the prince who gives him that annoyingly charming, boyish smile, his eyes holding a shimmer of something playful.

“Some of us actually do our diligence.” Leon replies.

Arthur raises a questioning brow turning back to the knight, attempting to hide his amusement.

“Well-” Leon sputters, “out of the knights, obviously. Not you, sire.”

“Yeah yeah save your bootlicking for the training field.” Arthur shoulders the knight. He’s known Leon for as long as he can remember, the man is no stranger to his jests.

Arthur can feel Merlin’s body shake with laughter against his side, further increasing his sunny mood.

A while later they’ve settled on playing some dice, most of the knights are pretty tipsy at this point, and while Merlin has been taking it easy he’s never been able to hold his drink very well.

“Oh come on Lance!” Elyan complains, “he isn’t that lucky.” His broad movements send a ripple of jostling around the table.

Merlin’s grin widens.

“Absolutely not.” Lancelot has to stop himself from laughing.

“Well it certainly isn’t skill that’s gotten the dolt so many wins.” Arthur teases, ruffling Merlin’s hair for the second time that day.

Merlin smiles brightly at Arthur and the prince feels his heart skip a few beats. Being able to make him smile like that always fills Arthur with a fierce fondness and sharp protectiveness.

While Merlin would normally have a surly retort for the prat’s words, he’s more interested in the pleasant atmosphere that has fallen over the two of them. He’s not sure what it is but Arthur seems more… interested in him today. Arthur is always excellent at dividing his attention fairly, he’s had years of training to do so and it shows. But tonight Merlin keeps catching the prince eyeing him when he thinks Merlin isn’t paying attention. But the servant is always paying attention.

“He can’t beat all of us Lancelot.” Elyan gripes.

“Well why don’t you put your coin where your mouth is then?” Lancelot eggs on.

“He’s beaten me twice already!”

“Well he can’t keep beating all of us.” Lancelot tosses the knight's words back at him.

“Fine! Merlin I swear I will beat you this time.”

The way Elyan imitates how Arthur says his name sends Merlin into a giggling fit that causes a few of the knights to start chuckling along as well.

Once Merlin can properly breathe again he tauntingly eyes Eylan. “I mean, you're right, I can’t keep getting lucky.”

Lancelot hides his smile in his drink.

“But it doesn’t hurt to try,” the servant continues cheekily, “I’ve made more winnings tonight than you’d be able to win in one game, so nothing to really lose.”

Elyan haughtily tosses the rest of his coins onto the table, they hit the wood with clinking noises, some spinning before falling onto their sides.

There’s a collective “oooooh” from the knights, playfully building the tension.

“Alright,” Merlin smiles, putting down an equal amount of coin.

Merlin nearly laughs at the intense atmosphere surrounding their table; the knights have even stopped drinking for the moment, putting their full focus on the game.

Merlin shuffles the dice a bit in the cup. “You can go first.” he nods at Elyan.

The knight doesn’t reply; he simply rolls the die out of the cup onto the table.

All eyes shift to Merlin expectantly. Well, all eyes except Lancelot’s, his expression is one of ‘you owe me for goading him into this.’

Merlin smiles at the man before silently casting a spell. The warlock doesn't have to look to know everyone is watching his hands, not his eyes.

When Merlin rolls higher there’s an uproar from those around him. There’s laughter and those ‘horseplay’ pats the knights are so fond of. Percival, well past tipsy at this point, clasps Merlin on his shoulder and shakes him excitedly, not looking away from the dice. The large man shakes him so violently Merlin nearly topples off his stool but Arthur is there to steady him with a hand around his waist before he can fall.

The servant turns to look at Arthur who Merlin hadn’t realized is startlingly close. With Arthur’s arm around his waist, hand wrapped around his hip, the prince nearly has him in a half hug. They’re so close their shoulders overlap, Arthur’s behind his. The prince turns his head to him and their noses are only a few inches apart.

Arthur’s eyes are crinkled from his smile due to Merlin’s win, but the raven doesn’t miss how his gaze dips down to his lips. Merlin’s breath hitches and he can’t hear anything but his own pounding heartbeat.

Until that silence is broken by a very loud Elyan. “How?! How on earth did you win again?!”

Merlin turns his attention back to the man, trying to calm his racing heart, though it’s rather hard as Arthur still hasn’t moved his hand. “Hmm, if it was luck surely I couldn’t keep winning. Must be skill after all.” Merlin scoops the coins into his other winnings from tonight.

The knights laugh and Lancelot gives Elyan a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“Here Merls,” Gwaine slides over another pint of ale even though Merlin’s is still half full. “Winner has gotta keep up with the rest of us plebeians.”

Merlin snorts at the ridiculous mental image that gives him.

“Well, unlike you lot I’m technically still on duty.”

Arthur gasps dramatically, “Merlin! You’re drinking on the job?!”

Merlin chuckles and relaxes into Arthur’s hold a bit more. Arthur reciprocates by tightening his arm.

“Uh oh, sire,” Merlin drawls flirtatiously, “You’ve caught me, suppose I’ll have to be punished now.”

Arthur’s eyes darken instantly and Merlin’s cheeky grin broadens.

Thankfully the only one paying attention to them is Gwaine, the others preoccupied consoling a moping Elyan.

“Well,” Arthur’s voice is low and sultry, “I think it's time I retire to my chambers. The spell will most likely kick in soon too.” Arthur shifts his gaze to his men.

“Alright princess, take your Birdie outta here, I’ll keep them occupied.” Gwaine grins, “Don’t mind the tab though.”

Merlin blushes at the brunette’s words.

Arthur rolls his eyes but gives an appreciative nod to the roguish knight.

Gwaine starts to make quite the ruckus and Merlin slides out of his stool. Arthur is quick to follow, putting his hand back on to Merlin, leading the raven out of the tavern.

The walk back is amusing and teasing, not in a sensuous way but a more kittenish and blitheful kind of way. They trade bants and jests while playfully shouldering each other. Merlin can’t even find it in himself to worry about the spell kicking in soon.

They are back in the castle chuckling and stumbling, though it’s mostly from the silly boyish atmosphere between them rather than the alcohol.

Merlin gasps dramatically, standing up straight.

Arthur’s expression falls, “The spell? Are you alright?”

“Oh.” Merlin smiles sheepishly, “Yeah, sorry. Just remembered I had to do something. Might as well since we are here.”

Arthur breathes a sigh of relief and narrows his eyes in annoyance at his servant.

Arthur follows suspiciously as Merlin turns down the knight’s wing of the citadel. The raven opens Lancelot’s door, Arthur is rather shocked, Lancelot is such a responsible knight; he wouldn’t expect the man to leave his door unlocked.

Arthur leans on the doorway as Merlin rummages through his pockets before hauling out the pouch of his winnings from tonight.

Merlin takes a good chunk of the coins and places them on the knight’s desk.

He turns to Arthur with a smile and Arthur can’t help but smile back, though it’s a bit weary. “What’s that about?”

“What? You didn’t notice Lance goading Elyan to bet again?” Merlin saunters past him out of the door.

Arthur watches dumbfoundedly, “You fox!”

Merlin’s laugh echoes off the walls of the corridor as they continue their way to the prince’s chambers.

They tumble into Arthur’s chambers in a fit of laughter. The hearth has died down but the candles are still burning from when Merlin had lit them earlier, fully expecting to drag a drunk Arthur home.

“I can not believe you roped Lancelot into that! I could see Gwaine, but Lance. I would have never guessed.”

“That’s exactly the point!” Merlin chuckles as he shuts the door behind them.

“So,” Merlin tilts his head endearingly, “are you finally going to tell me what’s had you in such a tolerable mood today?”

“You can’t talk to me like that.” Arthur’s cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling so much.

The prince looks at Merlin, not bothering to hide the underlying affection he usually snuffs down.

Merlin’s face is already flushed from laughing but it deepens slightly at the prince’s gaze. God he is so ethereally beautiful it doesn’t seem possible. Another one of those startling swells of affection floods through him.

“Just,” Arthur croaks out, “it was just a good day.”

“Yes but why you dollophead.” Merlin takes a step forward.

“I-” Arthur clears his throat, “I got something for you.”

Merlin furrows his brow. “Are you trying to deflect? Because I’ll have you know-”

Merlin cuts himself off with a gasp as a searing pain stabs his abdomen. The initial surge fades to at least be bearable.

Merlin opens his eyes to a very concerned looking prince.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Merlin straightens up, “the first wave is always really painful. But bearable now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Merlin smiles but it’s not nearly as bright as his earlier ones. He starts back up sounding almost reluctant, “That means though, it seems the more we do each time the less the pain affects me.”

“Oh.” Arthur states, heavy stones forming in his stomach. “So… should we just do as many as we can?” If they do that, this will end much quicker than Arthur thinks he’s ready for.

“No!”

Arthur’s eyebrows shoot up in shock at Merlin’s tone.

“I- I just mean- well, the more we do the less options we have later on. What if we do everything in the book and the spell doesn’t stop? I’d be in pain and we’d have nothing else to try.”

“Oh!” Arthur’s voice is a bit too enthusiastic, “Of course. That’s a great point.” Merlin flushes at the praise but Arthur trudges on unnoticing, “So we stick to one or maybe even two, until we can get a better understanding of your… interests.”

Merlin sucks in another breath, arms wrapping around his stomach, a pitiful whimper escapes his lips.

Arthur tenses, unsure of how to do this with Merlin in such pain, but his servant stands up again after a moment.

“Okay?” Arthur asks frantically as he moves over to his desk.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay, still bearable.”

“Good.” Arthur states, rummaging around in one of his desk drawers that Merlin will certainly have to reorganize.

“Arthur? What are you doing?” Merlin feels slight annoyance bubbling in his chest as he watches Arthur make a mess. He walks over to his master.

The prince turns to him with a brilliant smile and Merlin’s heart flutters at the sight. “Close your eyes.”

Instead, Merlin narrows his eyes, “You know, you saying that with a wide grin is rather unnerving.”

Arthur huffs in annoyance, “Merlin.” His voice is strong and domineering, Merlin knows better than to keep arguing, and while he has had the urge to disobey recently, he doesn’t want to dampen what a good day it has been.

“Fine.” He grumbles but closes his eyes.

There's some shuffling and what sounds like a click but Merlin doesn’t try to peek, knowing Arthur would surely be watching him.

“Hold your arm out. Keep your eyes shut until I say so.” Arthur commands.

Merlin listens and then something is placed in his hand. It’s smooth and feels wooden. He feels Arthur walk behind him and he shuffles a bit more.

“Here.” Arthur adjusts Merlin’s arm as if he is a guard holding a spear, but the object in his hand is far too small to be any kind of polearm.

“Gonna take your neckerchief off.” Arthur warns, not waiting for a response before untying the fabric. It falls to the floor and Merlin feels rather exposed suddenly.

“Okay, open your eyes.” Arthur’s breath ghosts against his neck.

Merlin cautiously opens his eyes, they quickly widen to saucers.

He’s holding a mirror, not only that but in the mirror he can see that Arthur is holding a black strap of fabric in front of his neck. Now that Merlin can see what it is Arthur gently moves it against his throat.

The material is unbelievably soft against his skin, it feels almost like leather but feels too luxurious, too soft. In the center of the material hangs a refined yet dainty gold carving of the Pendragon dragon. The metal gleams in the flickering candlelight that illuminates the chamber.

Arthur’s calloused fingers brush against his nape as he buckles the collar one notch too tight. It’s not choking or uncomfortable but it certainly puts a steady pressure on his neck, it's actually a rather comforting feeling.

When Arthur finishes securing the collar Merlin watches as his reflection’s eyes flash pink.

“There,” Arthur’s voice rumbles next to his ear. The prince lays his hands on Merlin’s sternum, his thumb caressing the dip between his collar bones, just below where the pendant sits.

“Now you clearly belong to me.”

Merlin can see the satisfaction in Arthur’s expression in the mirror; it’s reminiscent of a cat who has finally captured the songbird that has been flitting about its yard.

Merlin swallows and it only makes the collar feel tighter.

“Arthur-” Merlin tries but he’s suddenly overcome with emotion. There’s something about this, the undertone of pride in Arthur’s voice, Merlin’s devotion being laid across his skin for all to see. The intimacy that fills the air is nearly choking, it’s suffocating, it’s startlingly authentic and Merlin can’t get enough of it.

“Hmm?” Arthur hums as he brings his mouth to Merlin’s neck, placing kisses above the collar but never breaking eye contact in the mirror. The hand not on Merlin’s chest moves to his hip, sliding under the servant’s shirt so he can feel the warm skin under his rough palm.

Merlin’s brain sputters as arousal washes over him like a tidal wave, he couldn’t stop his whimper if he tried. He pushes back into Arthur’s firm chest.

When Merlin doesn’t answer him Arthur can’t help but smile against the boy's neck. “Merlin, I want you to wear this every day under your neckerchief, is that understood?”

Merlin, shaky on his feet, nods but his words are contradicting. “Arthur, this is too valuable for-”

“Merlin,’ Arthur cuts him off before he can continue, “I want you to.”

His words shake Merlin to his core, he can feel his well built walls crack further and further.

Arthur continues, “I want to make sure you understand what this means.” Arthur brings the hand on Merlin’s chest higher to brush against the collar, he slides a finger underneath making it impossibly tighter but it still doesn’t choke him. “Not only am I your prince, your lord, your master. I am your owner.” Arthur’s voice is a low rumble, Merlin can feel it vibrate in Arthur’s chest against his back. “You belong to me.” Arthur scrapes his teeth against Merlin’s neck, causing the raven to shiver as goosebumps erupt on his flesh. “Even if I decide to share you, you belong to me, no one else. Is that understood?”

“Yea- yes I understand,” Merlin replies immediately, that pleasant floaty feeling taking over his body again.

“Good,” Arthur purs as he grinds his hips against Merlin’s arse, “Such a good boy. My good boy, hmm?”

“Ngh yes! ‘wan be good for you.”

Arthur chuckles and nips harder at his neck, “Good.”

Arthur walks them over to the bed, stripping their clothes as they walk, though he waits until they are stationary to remove Merlin’s trousers, not wanting the clumsy fool to trip.

Arthur lays him down on the bed, his collar being the only thing adorning his heavenly figure. The air around them is rife with arousal but it’s not their usual urgent fiery passion. It’s inanimate, affectionate, and warm. It whispers a deeper feeling, something much more profound that neither of them acknowledge and will blame on the alcohol in the morning.

Arthur rifles through his bedside drawer and pulls out the vial of oil he keeps there.

The prince tosses it on the bed before crawling over his servant. They’re both already close to full hardness. Merlin watches with wide vulnerable eyes as Arthur straddles his thighs, he slides his hands down the servant’s flanks in smooth caresses. He reaches over his chest, brushing past his nipples where Merlin lets out a gasp. His hands continue to trail up. They brush against his collar bones, his collar, the underside of his jaw, Merlin keens and presses into his touch there. Arthur smiles amusedly at the boy. His hands caress further up until they rest on his cheeks.

The look of pure adoration on Arthur’s face has Merlin thinking this has to be a dream, but even his dreams aren't this nice. His heart surges with such emotion, such rightness, such fear, but he chooses to ignore it, he won’t let worries of the future or prophesied destinies ruin this moment. This is just him and Arthur, no princes, no warlocks, just two men, just them.

“Okay?” Arthur asks, his blue eyes flicking across his face.

It’s when Arthur asks that. They both come to a realization, they know they don’t have to do this. Merlin’s eyes flashed pink before. They don’t have to do this, there is no pain. They don’t have to do this, there is no time limit. They don’t have to do this, there is no rush, they don't have to do this. There’s nothing but them, they want to do this.

Merlin fights down his emotions, doing his best to focus on Arthur and the pleasant floaty feeling, he smiles softly up at Arthur, “Okay.”

Arthur brings his mouth to Merlin’s lips, They move together gently, affectionately. Merlin wraps his arms around Arthur’s neck and deepens the kiss. There are no urgent groans or whines of impatience, just content pleasured sighs and soft appreciated moans.

Merlin opens his legs and Arthur maneuvers between them. Arthur reaches for the oil giving them a moment to catch their breaths. He settles back between his servant’s legs and oils up his fingers. Merlin leans up and cups a hand around Arthur’s neck dragging the prince back down to him. The prince groans as his cock rubs against Merlin's for a moment before he moves his hand to Merlin's entrance, oiled finger rubbing at his hole.

Merlin gasps into his mouth as Arthur presses in his first finger, sliding it in and out gently. Merlin moves to place open mouth kisses on the underside of his jaw, and Arthur adds another finger.

Merlin makes beautifully wanton moans as Arthur continues to stretch him open. By the time Arthur has three fingers gliding in and out of his Merlin, the raven is a mewling mess below him.

He looks to Merlin, a silent question, Merlin eagerly nods his head.

Arthur lifts his servant’s legs so that his ankles rest on his shoulders before he presses in.

The feeling, the closeness, it has Merlin’s magic aching to reach out, to caress, to hold its other half dearly. Merlin keeps his grasp on it tight.

Arthur presses in slowly, it has Merlin’s eyes fluttering and his back arching. His lips are parted, breaths shallow as his head is turned to the side. When Arthur’s bottomed out Merlin has the gall to smile at him, Arthur can’t help but smile back.

He begins his thrusts, balancing Merlin’s legs on his shoulders. He starts slow and shallow allowing Merlin to adjust. Then he rolls his hips into Merlin and his servant moans.

“Ah- Arthur, so good nngh, so good ahh fuck.”

Arthur brushes stray pieces of hair out of Merlin’s face. “God Merlin, you're so beautiful.”

Even with his cock in his arse that’s what get’s Merlin to blush, Arthur nearly laughs but he doesn’t want the boy to take it in the wrong way.

“Ah Fuck- Merlin, fucking hell.” The prince groans as his Merlin moves to meet his movements.

Arthur brushes against his prostate and Merlin lets out a delicious sounding moan.

“Mmm fuck, such a good boy for me Merlin, so good, so fucking beautiful and all mine.” Arthur brings his hand to tease at the collar and he hits Merlin’s prostate again.

“Arthur! Arthur please.”

“Shhh it’s alright, I have you, I always take care of what's mine remember?” Arthur bends over, finding that Merlin is surprisingly flexible, he practically bends the boy in half and laps at his neck, just above the collar.

When Merlin cries out again Arthur benevolently slides his hand between them to Merlin’s leaking prick. With a few more rough rolls of his hips, Arthur’s orgasm sends shockwaves of pleasure through him with each pulse of cum that he fills Merlin up with.

A couple more pumps of his hand and Merlin is quick to follow, moaning Arthur’s name as his cum smears between their abdomens.

Arthur pulls out and falls over to his side of the bed, making sure not to crush Merlin.

They lay there for a while, panting, both blissed out reveling in the afterglow.

The cum is starting to get tacky on his stomach and he doesn’t want it to crust on them. So Arthur stands up and wets a cloth in his basin. He cleans himself off before moving back to the bed to clean off Merlin. The boy has a dopey smile on his face the whole time and Arthur doesn’t try to hide his own grin.

He cleans out his arse first before moving to his stomach, doing his best to prevent any large wet splotches from forming on his sheets. As he’s wiping off Merlin’s stomach, the raven squirming from the ticklish feeling, Arthur finally speaks up.

“Stay here tonight.” It’s not a question but Arthur’s tone leaves room for refusal if Merlin doesn’t want to stay.

“Mmm ‘kay. Tired anyways,”

That’s true, even though he had taken a nap Merlin had looked awful this morning.

“Alright.” Arthur brushes a hand through his hair before retreating to toss away the now soiled cloth.

Even though Merlin is tired he doubts he’ll be able to sleep soon with everything that just happened. He feels the bed dip as Arthur gets in.

They lie in silence for a few moments before Merlin feels an arm snake around his waist. Arthur pulls him into his chest, his other arm slides under Merlin’s head acting as an additional pillow. Merlin doesn’t know if this is because of the aftercare or- No. He’s not going to think about it, he’s just going to enjoy this moment for what it is. He melts back into Arthur’s hold.

They lay there in silence, not saying anything to each other, but Arthur’s breaths haven’t evened out yet so Merlin knows he’s not asleep yet. He shifts a bit and turns in Arthur’s hold so they’re face to face.

Arthur watches him curiously for a moment before relaxing again, as they take in each other's features. It’s then Arthur leans forward and brings his lips to his servant's again. Merlin freezes, taken back by the unexpected contact. But Arthur moves his lips against his and Merlin finds himself melting into him yet again.

They don’t do this. They don’t kiss afterward, not when it’s done.

It’s soft and sweet and slow. They move intrinsically against each other, a perfect balance of give and take, of care and affection. They draw back from each other. Arthur’s heart pounding not knowing how Merlin is going to react. Arthur’s cheeks are dusted pink. Merlin smiles before pressing another soft kiss to Arthur’s lips.

Arthur’s brows shoot up but he doesn’t say anything, the shock on his face clear. Merlin chuckles at the prince’s bewildered expression.

“Goodnight Arthur.” Merlin snuggles in against his chest.

“Goodnight Merlin.” He tightens his hold around him.

God he is so fucking in love with Merlin.

Merlin’s final rating: 9

Knife play
The act of using any form of sharp blade
as a tool for sexual stimulation. Depending
on the participant blood may be drawn for
furthur sexual gratification.

Merlin’s initial rating: 7

It’s warm and incredibly comfortable, the first thing Merlin registers is the pressure against his neck. The next is the heat radiating from below him.

He blearily opens his eyes, it takes him a moment to find his bearings in the dark. The first thing he sees is the very toned chest his head is resting on. The memories of the previous night come flooding back and Merlin can feel his face heat up. He carefully, as to not wake Arthur, brings a hand to his neck, the leather is supple to the touch.

He looks up at Arthur, his face is peacefully relaxed and stunning as ever, it seems a bit unfair for someone to be so handsome and a prince. His lashes are long and regal, they flutter ever so slightly as he dreams. Merlin can’t help but wonder what he’s dreaming about, perhaps battling some foes and being hailed as a hero, that or herb crusted capon.

Merlin sighs inwardly, his own humorings failing to distract him from the tight sensation in his chest. It’s a despondent ache, wrapping around his limbs like loathsome serpents, making his appendages feel much heavier than they actually are. It urges him to stay here, in the arms of his sovereign, to enjoy the quietness of early morning as a whole rather than a forlorn half, but Merlin knows he can not allow himself to get used to this, no matter how tempting the idea is. He allows himself only a few moments more to admire this serene and placid Arthur. One who doesn’t need to worry about duty or position, one who can give himself to a hushed sleep, a moment of respite where he isn’t shadowed by his primogenitary obligation to an entire kingdom.

Merlin eases himself off the prince, there’s a small indentation from where the pendant of his collar had been pressed up against Arthur’s chest.

The windows are still dark but the faint tweeting of songbirds, muffled by the cobblestone, tells Merlin the sun is not far off from making her appearance. He does his best to silently slip out of the bed but he knows, after years of trying to rouse the prince, that Arthur is a rather heavy sleeper.

The cobblestone is cool on his bare feet, he stretches his arms above his head languidly and rolls his neck, a bit stiff from sleeping propped up on Arthur. He goes about picking up his discarded clothes from last night and slipping them on. A strange mix of embarrassment and vitality heats his face as he ties his neckerchief over his newest accessory.

A part of him doesn’t want to cover it up, wanting to peacock around the castle, showing off that he belongs to Arthur. However, the smarter part of Merlin, the one that doesn’t want to get beheaded by Uther, prevails and he conceals the leather. Though even the smarter side of him feels wrong covering up such an expensive item.

Once fully dressed Merlin traipses around the chamber picking up Arthur’s clothes that had become strewn about the room last night. He’ll have to get the bed clothes too, he’ll wait until after he’s woken Arthur though.

Another peek at the windows tells Merlin it should be late enough to head down to the kitchens for Arthur’s breakfast. With one last pitiful glance at Arthur the servant takes his leave to start his day.

They don't talk about it. They go about the start of their day completely normally. Well, maybe Arthur glances at his servant’s neckerchief a bit more than usual. And perhaps he ponders why Merlin decided to start his duties before Arthur could wake with the raven in his arms, to indulge just a bit more but, no, neither of them talk about it.

It’s a rather uneventful day, that is until Uther calls a council meeting in the late afternoon.

Merlin stands dutifully behind Arthur as they wait for the last few council members to show up. Usually, Uther would be ruffled by the member's lateness, however, one of them is Gaius; and Uther, as stubborn a man as he is, understands the physician's duties can take precedence, wounds and sickness wait for no man, not even a king.

The members that are present murmur amongst themselves. Uther and Arthur both sit stoically, as royalty so often does, not conversing due to some asinine and fanciful etiquette Merlin couldn’t be bothered learning about.

Merlin swallows particularly harshly, causing his collar to press tighter around his neck. It had been rather exciting wearing it the first half of the day, but now in a room full of Uther’s men and the King himself, it’s a little unsettling. If they somehow found out and were able to recognize the meaning behind such an item he’d be dead by the morrow. It feels a bit like if Merlin had decided to walk around with a pointy hat on, nothing says ‘I have magic come and kill me’ more than pointy hats and robes, well perhaps glowing golden eyes shout it a bit louder, but it’s pretty close, either way it’s a quick sentence to the afterlife.

Plus it wouldn’t be that difficult to discern its meaning. It’s clearly much too fine a material for Merlin to ever afford himself, and the gold pendant might as well spell out Arthur’s name. Because obviously Uther would never gift the boy with such a thing. Ugh isn’t that just a horrific idea. Merlin can’t stop the shudder that sweeps through him.

His movement must catch Arthur’s eye because the prince turns around to peer at his servant questioningly. Merlin gives a small shake of his head, indicating he’s alright and Arthur pratishly rolls his eyes before turning back around.

Thankfully it’s not long after that the other councilmen trickle in, Gaius being the last.

Usually these meetings have Merlin longing for the door but today is one of the rare occasions he’s actually glad to be able to sit in.

Uther goes on to explain that there have been reports of a Saxon encampment on their Northern border. Camelot had sent envoys to assist Northumbria in an attempt to keep the Saxons (and the fighting) out of Camelot’s lands. They must have sent out a scouting or spy delegation to set up camp, thinking they wouldn't be found so far from the city.

The men get to discussing how to deal with the issue and Merlin is wholly unsurprised at what they decide on. The prince and his knights, and his manservant, though that went unsaid, are to go and eradicate the camp. They’d leave the day after tomorrow.

The rest of the evening Arthur is busy at his desk looking over maps and forming battle plans. And with anything the prince has to do on paper rather than with his sword comes Arthur’s thin patience.

That’s how Merlin winds up having to muck out the stables, well, if Merlin is being honest, which he isn’t, he did keep trying to talk to Arthur while the prince had genuine work to do.

By the time Merlin finishes it’s just past sunset but thankfully Gaius had prepared him some stew. The physician gives him a quick greeting before bading his apprentice to wash up before tucking in to the table.

Merlin sets the wash basin on the ground in the physician’s workroom, where he usually washes, but at the last second he thinks better. If he undresses and Giaus happens to look over he might see the collar.

So instead he takes the basin up to his room, along with two buckets of water. The basin isn’t particularly large, much smaller than Arthur’s bath. Merlin has to stand up to clean himself off as the top only comes about halfway up his calves, but it’s enough to get properly clean at least.

One of the best things about being the physician's assistant is that they keep a barrel of water in the workroom, that way they always have a good supply of water when needed. Granted Merlin is the one who has to keep it full, but back in Ealdor he had no such luxury.

He slips off his dirty clothes, tossing them on the floor to deal with at a later time, before carefully unlatching his collar. He takes a minute to admire it again, it’s as dark as the night sky, even the ladies of the court can’t get their dresses this dark, it only makes the golden pendant shimmer that much more. Looking at it closer, rather than in a mirror, Merlin can see now that it has almost a pearlescent luster to it when the light hits just right. He’s not sure he’s ever seen anything quite like it.

Not wanting to risk it getting wet, he slips it into his cupboard where his clean clothes lay. Then using his magic to heat the water he begins to clean the muck and grime off his skin. The smell of sandalwood and lavender has him relaxing near instantly.

After washing he sits down with Gaius and they discuss their days and the upcoming plans for Merlin’s travels up north with the knights. Thankfully with his frequent absences, Gaius doesn’t ask where he had been last night.

It’s a good night and Merlin is able to easily drift off to sleep, mentally preparing what he’ll have to pack for the journey.

The next day is a frantic mess as Merlin goes about his regular duties along with packing supplies for their journey tomorrow. Meanwhile, Arthur meets with Leon after knight training to discuss plans for their upcoming encampment siege.

It isn’t until Merlin brings Arthur his dinner that the two run into each other again. It’s a rare occurrence when they don’t spend the majority of the day together but it reminds Arthur just how much he enjoys having Merlin around, it’s a jarring amount. He always feels on edge without his servant around, worried the fool is getting into some kind of trouble.

Merlin regales Arthur with the servant's gossip he had heard today and Arthur discusses their plan for raiding the encampment.

When the conversation lulls, as Merlin does his chores and Arthur eats, Merlin runs over his mental checklist making sure he has packed everything he needed to. He’s near certain he has gotten everything, but he can’t help but feel like he’s forgetting something. Not an unfamiliar feeling to the servant but he can’t help but feel it’s something important.

Arthur watches as Merlin goes about his duties, coming back to refill his goblet every now and then, but the younger keeps furrowing his brow, clearly lost in thought about something. An uncomfortable feeling starts to make an appearance in Arthur’s chest.

The spell should kick in again soon, maybe Merlin’s fretting about last time perhaps it was too…tender. Merlin might be onto how Arthur really feels, not that Arthur will even fully admit it to himself, at least not when he isn’t relaxed and cuddling his best friend in post coital bliss. But Merlin has always been much too perceptive of Arthur’s inner thoughts, it’s a little eerie. But Arthur can’t help but think, how would Merlin feel learning that their arrangement means so much more to him than simply helping a friend? Would he feel used, angry? Disgusted? Happy?

No. He can’t afford to think like that, emotions are a weakness to a crown prince. A tool easily used for dangerous advantages by scheming foes. His duty is to Camelot first and foremost, it always will be, he can’t allow such affectionate feelings to take root, at risk of such affections being used against him. ... Who is he kidding, he was smitten the day he met the surly peasant boy, it’s far too late to prevent such feelings, but he can at least try to stop them from growing any further. Since that’s clearly worked so well before.

Thankfully, or perhaps not thankfully, Arthur is drawn out of his thoughts by a piercing shatter.

Merlin had gathered all of Arthur’s dinner plates on a carrying tray to take them down to the scullery to be cleaned. He only manages to get a few paces away from the table before the pain blindsides him.

Merlin grabs his abdomen with an anguished groan. The plates smash against the cobblestone dramatically, porcelain scattering on the floor as the metal tray wobbles around in a circle. He doesn’t even realize Arthur is there in front of him propping him up by his shoulders so he doesn’t fall into the shattered pieces on the ground.

Merlin takes a shuddering breath and the pain fades to a barely noticeable throb. It’s then he realizes Arthur holding the majority of his weight. Merlin stands back up, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Are you alright?” Arthur isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to seeing Merlin fold under the sudden onslaught of pain.

“Yeah,” Merlin’s voice is gravelly so he clears it before speaking again, “Yeah, I- I’m sorry.” He looks at the plates strewn on the floor.

Arthur has to fight the urge to roll his eyes. He’s not that cruel. “Merlin it’s fine you-” Arthur stops mid sentence, realizing what a good opportunity this is. “Well, clearly you didn't learn your lesson last time.” His voice takes on a cold tone. Merlin looks at him confused. “I think you need to be punished again since you have yet to learn how to properly serve your prince.”

Realization washes over Merlin’s face in the form of a pink blush, but there’s an eagerness about his expression as well.

“Well, I have been thinking of something, a new punishment that will hopefully help you learn what is expected of you.”

Arthur takes Merlin’s hand and leads him closer to the bed and away from the shattered porcelain in the ground.

They stand there for a moment as Arthur looks his servant up and down. Merlin, like always, doesn't cower under his gaze, he stands sure, waiting for Arthur to continue.

“Take off your neckerchief first.” Arthur commands huskily.

Merlin eyes him warily for a moment before reaching to the knot on the back of his neck. He starts to undo it but quickly stops. A stone of dread forms in his stomach, suddenly remembering what he had been forgetting all day.

Arthur raises an impatient brow.

Merlin meekly looks around the room searching for some saving grace, but alas there is none to be found.

“Merlin.” Arthur warns lowly, “You do not want me to ask again. Because then I will not be asking.”

Knowing there is nothing he can do at this point Merlin slowly, so slowly, undoes his neckerchief. It falls to the ground and it’s impossible to miss Arthur’s reaction, the hurt is clear across his face and guilt twists Merlin’s insides. He doesn’t think about what Arthur’s reaction could mean, surely he’s just disappointed Merlin had forgotten something the prince had gifted him.

Arthur’s brief hurt is gone in an instant as he puts on his ‘prince face’ but that too is gone quickly, replaced with an expression so cold yet blazingly angry Merlin isn’t sure he’s ever seen Arthur look so mad.

“Where. Is. It.” Arthur demands in what sounds like more of a growl than voice.

“I took a ba-.”

“WHERE. Is. It.” Arthur interrupts.

“The cupboard in my room.” Merlin answers this time.

“And why is that?” Arthur grabs Merlin’s chin bringing their faces closer, their noses nearly brush against each other.

“I took a bath last night. I didn’t want it to get wet.”

“That doesn’t answer my fucking question.” Arthur tightens his grip and Merlin worries it might bruise.

“I forgot to put it back on this morning.” His voice is shaky. Merlin does genuinely feel bad but that guilt is being overtaken by a masochistic and curious dread.

“Well, I suppose you just earned yourself a much worse punishment.” Arthur brings his lips to Merlin's but they don’t touch.

Merlin swallows, searching Arthur’s eyes but the prince has put up his walls, Merlin can’t discern what he is thinking.

“Arthur, I am really sor-”

“Did I say you could fucking speak?” Arthur brings a hand to Merlin’s neck but he doesn’t squeeze, no that would not be a severe enough punishment.

Merlin shakes his head no.

“Jacket off. NOW.” Arthur barks the last word as he lets go of his servant, turning to his bedside drawer.

Merlin slides his jacket off before tossing it onto one of Arthur’s dining chairs.

When Arthur turns around his expression is calmer though there is an animalistic and eager sheen to his gaze. But that’s not the only thing Merlin notices. The prince is also holding a dagger in his hand. The handle is intricately carved, smooth and white, either ivory or antler by the look of it. The blade though, the blade is silver but it reflects a blueish purple hue as Arthur twists it around in his hands.

While any person in their right mind would be scared of someone who has been trained to kill encroaching on them in such a predatory manner, Merlin knows Arthur would never truly hurt him. Well… not while Arthur is unaware of his magic at least.

“Roll up your sleeves.” Arthur closes in on him, his face a perfect picture of what a prince should be, strong, determined, calculating.

A spike of adrenaline surges through Merlin but he does as he is told, he rolls up the blue sleeves of his shirt until he can’t anymore, they land in the middle of his biceps.

Arthur watches as Merlin reveals his pale arms, dusted with black hair. Arthur’s quite surprised to see Merlin’s forearms are actually quite well built, it must be from all the chores he has the lad do. His veins can be seen under parts of his pale skin, different hues of blue, green and purple.

Another bout of pain has Merlin hissing but he doesn’t bend over.

“So,” Arthur starts, twirling the blade in his hand, “you say you forgot.”

Merlin nods his head, not willing to speak up again.

“I see,” Arthur circles around the servant, “so clearly it mustn’t be very important to you.” Arthur glares as he reaches Merlin’s front again.

Merlin opens his mouth but quickly shuts it just before he refutes. There’s the slightest hint of a smile on Arthur’s face as he watches Merlin catch himself.

Merlin’s heart is pounding. He won’t lie, there’s always been something thrilling about battles, the adrenaline pumping through his veins, the danger and risk of it all. The familiar exhilaration sends frissons through his body. His breaths come out in pants as Arthur hungrily watches him.

“Well, I’m sure after this you’ll never forget again.” Arthur says airily as he trails the hand not holding the dagger through Merlin’s hair. “You’ll never forget to mark yourself as mine,” The prince tightens his hold on the black strands, “mine to play with, mine to use, mine to damage, mine to do whatever the hell I want with.”

Arthur closes the space between their bodies and ghosts his mouth over Merlin’s neck, breathing him in. Merlin can feel as Arthur’s already hard cock pokes into his own growing erection but then he’s leaning back again.

Merlin’s eyes dart down and sure enough Arthur’s trousers are already tented.

Arthur searches his face, he must see whatever it is he is looking for because his mouth finds Merlin’s a moment later. Their mouths slide smoothly against each other, Arthur’s movements are teasing and leave Merlin wanting more. The prince slots their legs together and grinds softly against his servant a few times before pulling back, just enough to see his face.

“Clearly you must not understand. Or perhaps,” Arthur’s face hardens, “you don’t want to be mine.”

“I do!” Merlin vehemently disagrees.

Arthur’s brows shoot up before a baleful smile works its way onto his face. “Did I say you could talk?” He watches the way Merlin’s adam's apple bobs as he swallows, where his collar should be resting.

Merlin shakes his head, putting on a very innocent and cute look that almost has Arthur giving in. Almost.

“Such a shame.” Arthur grips Merlin’s right arm pulling it out in front of the younger, “If only you would learn to behave.” Arthur brings the dagger to Merlin’s arm, he angles the blade so the sides don’t make contact, only the tip of the blade does. The angle doesn’t mar Merlin’s skin at all but it still somehow stings as Arthur slowly drags the blade up the servant's inner forearm.

Merlin sucks in a breath as he watches the pretty metal slide across his skin. His adrenaline is pumping louder now, pulsing down to his cock in urgent throbs.

Arthur flicks his gaze between the blade and Merlin’s face which is getting a bit of that hazy look to it, but his blue eyes stay alert and watching.

“If you were good I wouldn’t have to punish you.” He carefully drags the blade over the crook of Merlin’s arm and up his bicep until it reaches where his shirt is rolled up. The path leaves tingles that radiate up to Merlin's chest, he has to fight off a shiver. “I could have been fucking you by now.”

Merlin’s eyes dart up to meet Arthur’s lidded ones. It’s then Merlin’s eyes flash pink, the light glinting off the dagger.

Good, Arthur thinks.

The prince drops Merlin’s arm to grab his other one. He angles the blade the same way, but he starts in the center of Merlin’s upturned palm this time.

“I could be shoving my cock into that tight little hole of yours right now.” Arthur’s breath is gravelly as he speaks. “I could be pumping in and out of you by now, holding you down and fucking you open.” Merlin lets out the slightest wanton whimper and Arthur tightens his grip on his arm, the blade slowly ascending to the crook of his elbow.

“I could be gripping your hips, forcing you to meet my movements as I thrust into your damn near addictive heat over and over again. I could be praising you for being such a good boy, for being my good boy.” Arthur groans the last parts and Merlin can’t help but moan in response.

Merlin squirms, his prick impossibly hard now. Adrenaline flows through him in a steady course as he watches Arthur carefully drag the blade up to his bicep.

“But you haven’t been good, have you?” Arthur asks as he lifts the dagger, but rather than bringing it further away he brings it closer to Merlin. He places the blade against his cheek, the metal a cool contrast to his flushed skin.

Merlin shakes his head, the movement causes the blade to press into him a bit further but Arthur is careful enough so that it doesn’t do any harm.

“That’s right, you haven't been good,” Arthur purrs as he carefully slides the metal down and across Merlin’s bottom lip.

Merlin wants to dart his tongue out and lick it but he isn’t sure if he’d get punished further, so he doesn’t.

The blade rests on his other cheek. “Clearly I need to be harsher with my punishments.” Arthur brings his lips to Merlin’s once more but it’s brief and leaves the servant frustrated. He doesn’t dare risk voicing the feeling.

Arthur drags the blade down Merlin’s chin, carefully maneuvering it under his jaw and down to his throat where his collar should be.

It’s cool and when Merlin swallows he can feel the metal press into his skin but still, it doesn’t cut him.

It’s then Merlin sees Arthur’s eyes change, they go from teasing and hungry, to rageful and hostile. His features darken with rabid and unfettered fury.

“You lied to me, you’ve lied to me all this time!” Arthur sneers, his voice trembling with rage.

Merlin's eyes go wide with confusion, the blade still held to his neck.

“Did you think I’d never figure it out? That I was so dumb you could just go behind my back and do as you please?!”

“What? Arthur? What are you talking about?” Merlin’s already surging adrenaline spikes even higher.

“Don’t you dare play fucking dumb with me Merlin. I know you’re a fucking sorcerer. I’ve seen it with my own goddamn eyes!” Arthur bellows, the blade pressing further into his neck.

Merlin’s stomach drops out from under him. “Arthur, I’m so sorry, I- I use it for you! Only for you I swea-”

“SILENCE!” Arthur roars, his chest heaving, cheeks stained red with anger.

“You have betrayed me! I trusted you!” Arthur’s body shakes with rage. “You were my friend! And all you wanted to do was kill me.” Arthur blanches at the sentence. “What was it? Were you trying to play the long game? Waiting until no one would possibly suspect you? Did you even get cursed?!” Arthur’s voice raises again, “Or did you just do this to get into my bed?! To lower my guard even further?” There are angry tears in Arthur’s eyes but they don’t fall.

“No! Arthur, please! I never wanted to hurt you, I swear!” Merlin pleads, his voice breaking, his ears ringing, throat tightening. He could use his magic to escape, but he never would, not from Arthur, he could never run from him, the reason he is alive, he can’t run from his destiny.

“If you speak up again I will not hesitate to slit your throat right here.” Arthur pushes the blade into him further but Merlin can’t feel it, he can't feel anything other than his pounding heartbeat. Panic starts settling into his bones, weaving into his muscles, into his magic. Merlin squeezes his eyes shut trying to focus on anything other than the panic overtaking his system, anything other than Arthur’s rage. Anything other than how lonely Gaius will be without him, anything other than the panic prostrating his whole body, but all he can feel is the utter need to get away, he won’t though, he could never leave Arthur.

When Merlin opens his eyes he’s met with a confused and not at all angry looking prince. Merlin’s heart frantically pounds in his chest, in his ears, in the tips of his toes. Arthur raises a questioning brow at his servant as if expecting Merlin to say something.

But he can’t say anything, panic constricting his airway, it’s compressing his veins, drowning his lungs.The blade on his neck burns like the flames of hell.

Merlin can barely register Arthur’s brow furrowing in slight confusion.

“orange” scratches its way out of Merlin’s throat.

Immediately Arthur hucks the blade across the room, uncaring if it gets damaged. His hands are off the servant and he raises them as he takes a couple steps back.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay.” Arthur’s heart is pumping off a different kind of adrenaline now, one of worry as he watches Merlin succumb to more and more panic. Arousal instantly forgotten.

The tears flow freely down Merlin’s cheeks as he sobs. He sinks to the ground landing on his arse as he desperately tries to breathe. He brings his hands up to his neck, scratching his blunt nails against the skin in an attempt to get more air but he can’t.

Arthur feels bile rising in his stomach, he has never seen Merlin so afraid, he looks truly terrified.

“P-please-” Merlin sputters brokenly, “please don’t burn me.”

What? “Merlin, It’s okay. No one is going to burn you, you’re okay. I promise, The dagger is over there now. I’m not going to hurt you, I’d never hurt you.” Arthur tries but his words only make Merlin sob more.

Arthur runs his hands through his hair, not sure how to help Merlin.

Merlin’s sobbing starts causing him to dry heave, his shoulders violently quaking.

“Merlin please, look at me.” Arthur’s tone is nothing short of desperate.

But Merlin can't hear him, his blood and heartbeat too loud in his ears. The smell of smoke filling his lungs, the crowd jeering as the flames lick his feet. It’s a fate he knew he’d succumb to eventually, he had just hoped it wouldn't be at Arthur’s hand.

“Merlin!” Arthur tries again to no avail.

Merlin’s nails have dug hard enough to start drawing blood. Arthur knows he has to stop him. The prince does his best to steel his nerves but seeing the bravest man he’s ever known so broken perturbs him to no end, for a litany of reasons.

Arthur slowly, as to not startle the boy, moves closer to Merlin before gently landing on his knees in front of his best friend.

“Merlin?”

Again the prince isn’t answered, Merlin’s broken and fearful sobs are the only sound that fills the room.

Arthur softly places his hands on Merlin's wrists to stop the scratching.

The contact startles Merlin but it does the trick and he looks up to Arthur, though the tears don’t stop streaming from his red veined, puffy eyes.

“It’s okay Merlin, you’re okay.” Arthur soothes his thumbs on the inside of Merlin’s wrists.

Merlin’s eyes fill with confusion, a welcomed difference.

“Okay, that’s good, good job.” Arthur coos but he’s still still tense waiting for something to happen. “Take a deep breath.”

It was in my head. It wasn't real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

Merlin’s sobs stutter a bit as he unsuccessfully tries to breathe deeply. His eyes are desperate and pleading and Arthur’s heart hurts.

“Okay, it’s okay, try again.” Arthur hesitantly lets go of one of Merlin’s wrists, when it doesn’t go back to the boy's neck Arthur rests his own hand on Merlin's heaving chest.

Arthur takes a deep breath and Merlin follows.

“Good! That’s it, just like that, good job.” Arthur lets go of Merlin’s wrist and brings his hand to his best friend's cheek, brushing away some of the tears.

“Again.” Arthur says before taking another deep breath.

It’s a long process but Arthur goes slow and takes his time. By the time Merlin has calmed down, well perhaps calmed down isn't the right phrasing, when he has outwardly stopped heaving and his tears have run dry, he sits across Arthur’s lap, leaning into the prince’s side, head resting on his shoulder. Arthur’s fingers trail against his back in light whispery touches. The prince subconsciously rocks them side to side.

Every couple of breaths Merlin’s lungs sputter and his chest rattles. His nose and ears painfully tingle, an effect of the lack of oxygen. The scratches on his throat sting. They sit there in silence for a while until Arthur finally speaks up.

“Here, can we get up? I’d like to look at your neck, if that’s alright.”

His questioning tone is a bit unnerving honestly, Merlin’s so used to Arthur demanding things, he never asks.

Merlin nods his head and slowly stands up. A wave of dizziness hits him but it fades quick enough.

Arthur places an arm around his shoulders and maneuvers him to the bed. Merlin sits down too exhausted to really think, his mind is blissfully quiet as he watches Arthur move to his desk.

The prince pulls out the small emergency aid kit Merlin keeps in one of his drawers before making his way back to the bed.

The bed sinks down as Arthur sits. With a gentle hand, the prince turns Merlin’s head towards him to get a better look at the scratches. They aren’t particularly deep, but heaven forbid they get infected.

“Is it okay if I apply some disinfectant?”

“I can do it.” Merlin’s voice is small and croaky. He reaches for the supplies but Arthur moves them away.

“Can I?” There’s a small pause before Arthur adds on, “Please.”

Merlin sighs, he never wanted Arthur to see him like that, while anxiety isn’t new for the warlock, panic attacks are usually rare for him.

“sure.”

Arthur takes out the rag and small bottle of disinfectant and starts dabbing at Merlin’s neck. Merlin welcomes the sting, it’s better than the achingly empty and anxious feeling lingering inside him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Arthur keeps his eyes on his work but he feels the way the bed shifts and how Merlin’s muscles tense at the question.

“No.”

“Okay.” Arthur replies easily, he wouldn’t force Merlin.

Arthur works in silence for a while, he’s nearly done when he speaks up. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Merlin’s voice comes out so strong it has Arthur looking up, meeting his confused, puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry, I took it too far. I should-”

“Arthur, no.” Merlin interrupts, “You stopped when I said the word. You didn’t take it too far.”

Arthur sighs searching Merlin’s face. His expression is similar to when he gets scolded by his father, he’s disappointed in himself. Merlin wants to reach out but he doesn’t.

“I should have known, it-”

“Arthur,” Merlin exasperates, “I didn’t even know. There’s no way in hell you could have. In no way is this your fault.”

“Just, I’m sorry- I’m sorry it happened then.” Arthur waves his hand.

“You know, sometimes I think you’re too good hearted.” Merlin’s lip quirks up but the rest of his face stays solemn. For all the responsibility and tribulations Arthur has to go through daily, Merlin does truly respect Arthur insurmountably.

Arthur gives him a strange look, he’s never gotten used to Merlin’s rare compliments, they always catch him off guard.

“Sometimes I think you’re too stubborn,” Arthur parries, Merlin opens his mouth to argue but Arthur continues, “it’s okay to ask others for help, hell I do it all the time, you, the knights, the servants, the councilmen. You don’t have to go through everything alone.” The prince’s expression is sincere and caring and worried and all the things Merlin needs him not to be so he can ignore his feelings for the stupid prat.

But Arthur’s words cut into Merlin’s chest, they carve and carve until there’s nothing left, like a widdler who keeps trying to fix his mistakes not realizing he’s used up all the wood. Because it’s not true, he does have to do this alone, he can’t tell anyone.

The servant exhales wetly.

“I don’t think you ask those people for things, certainly not me. It’s more like demanding.” Merlin tries to joke, attempting to change the topic.

Arthur gives him a sad look, one that tells Merlin he’s not fooled but Arthur thankfully doesn’t push him.

“Do-” Arthur pauses looking down to Merlin’s lips for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

Merlin’s heart skips a beat. “I- I shouldn’t. Gaius will wonder where I am if I’m gone again.”

“Ah right, of course.” Arthur scratches the back of his neck as he turns his attention to the fireplace. “Well then, I expect you ready bright and early for our ride out.”

“Yes, of course.” Merlin stands up, his gaze landing on the broken plates. “I’ll just-”

“It’s fine. I’ll get George to do it, you go rest.” Arthur looks back to him, his expression unreadable.

Merlin nods before picking up his neckerchief and jacket as he makes his way to the door. He stops before exiting. “Thank you, Arthur.” The door shuts softly behind him.

Arthur isn’t sure what Merlin is thanking him for this time.

Merlin’s final rating: N/A

Cum play
Using a participant's cum
in some sort of abnormal yet
sexual manner.

Merlin's original rating: 6

Merlin stands there for a moment leaning back against the door, his head throbbing. He holds his jacket clutched in one hand, neckerchief in the other. He closes his eyes, listening to the crackling of the torches that light the royal corridor. He hears one of the guards shift slightly at the end of the hallway but he pays it no mind. Too focused on other matters.

Where his heart had been pounding too frantically before, it feels as if it is beating too slowly now, as if trying to compensate for earlier. His pulse is a steady throb all throughout his body, each palpitation sending waves of sharp discomfort that radiate through his skull as if he’s poorly hungover.

He takes a deep breath, his lungs heave a bit but the air feels cool inside his chest. Not wanting to look strange to the guards, Merlin peels himself off Arthur’s chamber door. He’s a bit unsteady on his feet but he makes due, the guards nod to him as he passes.

He makes sure to only think of Gaius’ chambers and the path that takes him there, leaving any unsavory thoughts out of his reach. It’s surprisingly easy to keep his mind off of what just happened. He is always exhausted after any kind of anxiety or panic attack, and with that comes the ability to focus solely on his fatigue.

That is until he's in his chambers.

He doesn’t bother changing out of his clothes but he does take off his boots, tossing his jacket and neckerchief on the floor.

He squeezes his eyes shut as he plops down onto his bed, trying to get the image of a murderous Arthur out of his mind. He has never truly been afraid of Arthur per se, it isn’t like Arthur is a bad person. He’s as far from a bad person as someone can get. No, he has never been afraid of Arthur, what Merlin is afraid of is his reaction. What the prince will do if he finds out and the repercussions of his actions.

Arthur is the epitome of goodness, Merlin has never seen someone with a truer or more courageous heart, he honestly doubts there is even anyone else of Arthur's caliber out there. And Merlin… well Merlin is the other side to Arthur’s goodness, the other side of his coin. Now, does this make the warlock inherently bad? No, at least, he wouldn’t say so. Not anymore anyways, not after years of saving Arthur’s backside and Gaius’ paternal reassurances.

But, if Arthur were to condemn him, to sentence him to the pyre… if he asked, Merlin would light the flames himself. He would conjure the fire, using his last act to give Arthur the one part of himself Merlin hadn’t already willingly given. His magic.

If Arthur found out and was forced to choose between his servant and his kingdom, Merlin knows what Arthur would choose. Even if Arthur somehow returned his feelings, not that Merlin would delude himself with such thoughts, he knows Arthur would always choose his kingdom, his family, his father. That’s part of what makes Arthur so noble. But the prince would have to live knowing he was the one who sentenced his best friend to death. Merlin would never want to put him through such a thing.

With the upbringing and life that the prince has had, he has never seen magic other than anything but evil. Arthur isn’t at fault. Merlin could never blame him, he’s a product of his raise. Even if the prince ran Merlin through himself, the warlock wouldn’t be angry at him.

And that’s what truly scares Merlin. It’s his own devout loyalty that terrifies him. It’s not as if he wants to die, but he’d burn for Arthur a thousand times over.

Merlin takes a deep breath opening his eyes back up, he stares at the ceiling above, willing away his uneasiness in an attempt to get his thoughts in order. He’s thought it over countless times, what would happen, how it would happen, what Arthur would go through afterward, what the knights would do, what would happen to Gaius for harboring him, his mother for birthing him, Lancelot for protecting him.

It’s ironic, him and his magic being a risk and burden to every person in his life, yet it’s purpose is to protect Arthur. Perhaps that is where Merlin’s loyalty comes from, Arthur is his purpose, and with purpose comes a reason to exist, to live. It seems rather selfish.

If Merlin’s loyalty is solely because Arthur gives him a purpose, then the warlock is just protecting the prince for his own peace of mind, to know he has a reason to live. But Merlin knows better, that is not the only reason he is so set on keeping the prince safe, he loves Arthur.

He could not bear to live in a world without him… but that’s just as selfish isn’t it? In that sense, Merlin is doing it for himself. And yes he could argue he is doing this to bring back magic to Camelot, that will benefit countless magic users who live their day to day lives in fear, it would stop the persecution of his people. But that’s the thing, it’s his people, Merlin will benefit just as much as anyone else if magic becomes legal. How can he be sure he isn’t just doing this all for himself?

That’s how he completes Arthur’s goodness. Arthur always does what is right, always saves those in need and while he may get the glory, that certainly isn't why he does it. Being a prince there isn’t really anything Arthur can gain from helping others. Meanwhile, Merlin has everything to gain if he brings back magic.

Merlin has attempted to die on behalf of the prince multiple times. And Arthur has done the same in turn. But Merlin was willing to die to protect the heir to the throne, the one who is meant to bring back magic to Camelot. The one Merlin couldn’t stand to live without. Arthur did it because it was the moral thing to do.

Merlin presses the heels of his palms against his eyes until he sees spots of colors dancing behind his lids. He hadn’t expected to be afraid of Arthur, he doesn’t really think he is, even after what happened in the prince’s chambers. But the reality of Arthur holding a blade to him, it was more startling than Merlin had imagined. In a strange roundabout way, he feels almost more prepared if Arthur were to find out, knowing what it’s like to be on the end of a weapon wielded by his destiny.

He sighs and rolls over in his bed, thoughts and images of pyres, swords and blood running through his mind until exhaustion finally takes over.

Arthur sits on the side of his bed, staring across the room. George had come to clean the broken plates but when the servant went to pick up the dagger Arthur had thrown across the room earlier, the prince told him to leave it before dismissing him.

The flames of the dying hearth reflect off the metal blade mockingly, as if laughing at him.

God he’s an idiot.

How could he… how could he do that to Merlin?

He had been so frightened. He looked terrified, and Arthur had caused that. He was the reason for it. He feels sick to his stomach. Merlin had willingly stayed by his side while fighting a dragon yet Arthur was able to instill such a visceral fear in him.

Arthur had barely been able to try and comfort the boy before he all but ran out of his chambers. He runs a rough hand down his face.

Not to mention Merlin hadn’t worn his gift. Maybe he only wants to be Arthur’s during those times. And well, obviously that was what they had agreed upon, this was simply Arthur helping a friend out, why should he want to be Arthur’s any other time?

Arthur’s chest twists painfully.

It’s not as if they could be together anyway. It’s a good thing that Merlin doesn’t want to be his. Arthur’s breath hitches.

Even if Merlin prefers blokes it doesn’t mean he likes Arthur more than a friend. Hell Merlin wasn’t even going to ask him to help with the spell, he was going to ask Gwaine, and then Lancelot. Who knows how many people Merlin would have gone through before asking Arthur. God, he’s a fucking idiot.

But, there were these moments, in the heat of their discoveries, where Merlin truly looked as if he wanted to be Arthur’s. Merlin wears his heart on his sleeve, he's always been rubbish at hiding his feelings. There were always these times where Merlin would become distant and sad, though he tried to put on a brave face, and for whatever reason he never talked about it. Arthur had asked but each time he’d get some flimsy response. Eventually, Arthur learned he wouldn’t get any answers so he stopped asking. Perhaps Arthur has looked too deeply into Merlin’s loyalty, hoping that there may be something else underneath it, something fueling the boy to stay by his side. Maybe Merlin doesn’t trust him as much as he thought, especially given his reaction to what just happened.

Arthur likes to think that he knows Merlin after their years spent together. And he can’t help but feel that Merlin’s words have been genuine, about wanting to be together his. Obviously, Arthur couldn’t be Merlin’s, but perhaps Merlin could still be his… No, he couldn’t do that to Merlin, that would be horrible. But God Arthur doesn’t think he could see Merlin be with someone else, flirting, courting, sneaking off together.

Arthur aggressively strips his shirt off, bunching it into an angry ball before throwing it at the wall.

There’s something inside him that just knows it’s wrong for Merlin to be with someone else. But Arthur is a prince, the future king, nothing can ever happen between them. Not that Merlin would even want something more to happen between them.

Arthur plops onto his back, legs still dangling off the side of his bed.

How is he so bad at emotions? First he can’t even give Merlin a hug, and now he’s sent him into a full blown panic. And obviously, Arthur has been reading too much into what they say when taking pleasure from one another, clearly, Merlin’s words were from the heat of the moment and nothing more.

His eyes sting, Arthur refuses to acknowledge the sensation.

Rather than focusing on the emotion that is not heartsick, he focuses on the only other thing he can right now. The guilt.

God what must Merlin be thinking, feeling right now? Sure Arthur has never been good at comforting people but he would have done his damnedest had Merlin stayed. Not that Arthur doesn’t understand why he left, he doesn’t blame Merlin in the slightest for not wanting to be around him right now.

He’s never seen him so scared before, it was so unsettling. He got that look in his eyes that Arthur has seen far too many times not to recognize. It’s one battleworn soldiers get when they are stuck reliving their past combats, when the torture of war has persisted to such an extent that even years later the images still haunt them.

And Arthur had triggered that in his servant.

God Arthur is filth. The next time Merlin mucks out the stables Arthur wouldn't be surprised if he finds himself being shoveled out as well.

He has to make it up to Merlin.

Oh God.

What if Merlin wants to stop their arrangement after this?

Arthur quickly sits back up. While yes he would obviously respect Merlin’s decision to do so, but it might actually kill the prince.

No, he doesn’t want that to happen. It can’t happen. Merlin is his. Merlin said he was his! He said he wanted to be his. He knows Merlin. He can tell when Merlin is lying, he’s a horrible liar. If Merlin says he doesn’t want to be his then fine Arthur will be forced to accept it. But that hasn’t happened yet.

So he’ll just have to prove to Merlin he is the best man for the job. And to do that… well, Arthur would say he’s already proved himself rather well skill-wise, so he’ll have to do so emotion-wise now. He is a battle hardened warrior, the crown prince of Camelot, one of if not the best sword fighters in all of Albion, he can be affectionate! It isn't like he doesn’t already have affections for the fool. And Arthur is not one to ever back down from a challenge, especially not one that has to do with Merlin.

Arthur will prove to Merlin that there is no other choice but him!

Arthur stands up, suddenly invigorated with the need to prove himself, he marches halfway to his door before he thinks better.

His vigor dies down at the remembrance of Merlin not wanting to stay the night. Clearly, he wants to be alone, rightfully so. And Arthur isn’t going to intrude on his space, especially after scaring him so badly.

Arthur relents, sighing as he makes his way back to his bed. Tomorrow it is then, tomorrow he will start proving himself to Merlin.

Even with his newfound determination, thoughts of a terrified Merlin fill the prince’s mind as he settles in for sleep.

Merlin breathes a sigh of relief as he readies his and Arthur’s horses, finally getting a moment to himself.

They haven't even left yet and Merlin is already feeling antsy. This very well has to do with his royal pratness. Arthur had not only been up and dressed already when Merlin arrived to wake him, on time might he add. But the prince already had breakfast laid out, for the both of them.

It was clear Arthur was trying to make up for the previous night. Merlin had insisted once again that the prince was not at fault whatsoever but Arthur had then insisted he just sit down and eat. Merlin gave in, not only because the food smelled delicious (it tasted just as delicious), but in hopes that if he ate perhaps Arthur would feel less guilty. The tension in the air eased between them as they ate.

That wasn’t the only thing though. Arthur has been so touchy this morning. While Arthur touches him fairly often it’s usually in a similar vein as the knights, punches to the shoulder, aggressive hair ruffles, friendly shoves. Today it is, well Merlin doesn’t know what it is. It’s almost a mix of his usual rough touches but they lingered longer and felt almost protective.

All the while Arthur has had an adamant look on his face Merlin couldn’t fully fathom out. It was beyond strange. And when Arthur had offered to help Merlin carry down their bags to the courtyard the servant nearly fell over.

Merlin can’t say it isn’t endearing though, Arthur trying to make up for a mistake he didn’t even actively make. Merlin dare even call it cute.

Once finished with the horses he leads them out to the courtyard to attach their saddlebags. There are other squires about working on readying the knight's horses. Usually, they are a rambunctious group, chatting away with each other about the latest gossip or heroic tales of the knights, today though they work dexterously in an uneasy silence. Surely that has nothing to do with the crown prince standing there in the middle of them.

“Arthur,” Merlin grouses as he fights off a smile, “what are you doing out here?”

“I am the prince of Camelot Merlin, I can be wherever I want to be.”

“And you want to oversee the squires ready the horses before the sun is even past the trees?” Merlin raises an eyebrow as he brings the horses up to Arthur, their hooves clopping on the stone all the while.

“No. I want to oversee you ready the horses.”

There’s something about the way Arthur says that that has a pleasant shiver running down Merlin’s spine.

“Is my work not up to the high expectations of the prince of Camelot sire?” Merlin’s tone is laced with sarcasm.

Arthur fights down a smile as he pets his mare’s flank. “No, actually it isn’t.”

Merlin’s brow furrows in confusion. The squires look between themselves, sharing worried looks.

“And as you are my servant,” Arthur continues, oblivious to the tension amongst their surrounding audience, “I find that I must be the one to remind you how it is done.”

Arthur steps back to pick up one of the bags before he starts attaching it to Merlin’s horse.

Merlin’s jaw nearly hits the ground at the realization of what the prince is doing. He isn’t the only one, squires all shamelessly staring at their prince.

“Arthur,” Merlin says in a more hushed tone but with no other noises than the chirping of morning birds and intermittent snuffling of the horses he can still be clearly heard by those now taking their time working to see how this plays out.

Arthur looks up from where he is latching one of the straps.

“You really don’t have to do this.” Merlin’s voice is still hushed.

“But then how else will you learn what is expected of you?” Arthur turns his focus back to the horse, starting the second latch.

It’s one thing for Arthur to prepare his own horse, but to prepare his servants?

“Arthur.”

“It’s fine. I want to.” Arthur doesn’t bother lowering his voice.

Merlin’s heart skips a beat. Seriously, Arthur needs to stop doing randomly kind things for him, Merlin does not need to become any more disturbingly besotted than he already is.

Arthur speaks up when his servant doesn’t say anything, “Come on Merlin, get to work. We have a few days of travel ahead of us.”

Merlin stands there for another moment bewildered. He’s snapped out of it as Arthur looks up at him clearly waiting for him to start working.

It isn’t long before the knights start down the citadel steps, capes billowing behind them.

They share confused looks as they approach the horses, clearly not expecting Arthur to be helping the servants.

“Sire?” Leon questions when they get close enough.

“Ah Leon! You’re all here.” Arthur turns his head but his hands don’t stop working.

The knights look between the prince and his manservant who is adamantly keeping his eyes on his hands.

“Yes, uhm we are.”

“Good. We’ll depart as soon as the horses are ready.”

“Right. Of course.” Leon looks around to the knights but they’re all just as lost as he is.

There’s a beat of silence before Leon speaks up again. “Uhm- Sire, if I may… why exactly are you helping ready the horses?”

Arthur’s gaze flicks from the horse to Merlin and then to Leon. “I wanted to. I am the prince of Camelot, I can do as I please.”

“Right, of course sire, my apologies.”

Merlin’s forehead thunks against the saddle as he rests his head, hiding his face from the others. Surely Arthur isn’t going to keep this up all day, he can at least deal with it until they leave in a short while.

Unfortunately riding on their horses doesn’t give Arthur very many opportunities to try to be affectionate to his manservant, even if they do ride next to each other. They do banter as always though and it helps calm a bit of Arthur’s guilt. Meanwhile, there’s something else eating away at him.

Arthur can’t stop looking at Merlin's neckerchief. His desire to know if Merlin wore his collar today claws at his thoughts constantly.

Merlin has caught him staring more than once now and keeps giving him strange looks.

By the time they stop for the night Arthur is practically vibrating with curiosity if Merlin wore the collar. If he didn’t then Arthur will take it as a sign that the servant truly doesn’t want to wear it, surely he wouldn’t forget twice in a row, unless he hadn’t actually forgotten the first time.

Merlin flits about their campsite going about his chores, Arthur’s eyes watching him the whole time. Waiting for an opportunity to strike.

As the sky grows darker and the air cooler Merlin is still going about his tasks. Arthur never realized how much work Merlin truly does, especially on their journeys as he has taken to not only taking care of Arthur but the other knights as well.

The knights discuss their latest tavern tales and castle gossip since their last outing but Arthur can’t find it in himself to pay attention. Too focused on trying to get some form of confirmation about what Merlin’s neck looks like under his neckerchief.

The crickets have started chirping by the time Merlin is finally able to sit down to eat.

The servant is about to take his regular place between Gwaine and Lancelot when Arthur calls out.

“Here Merlin, sit here.” The prince pats a small spot in between him and Leon.

The request gets him some strange looks but Arthur doesn’t care, not only has he barely gotten any opportunities to prove himself to Merlin today, but he needs to know if his servant is indeed his. God, he needs to know.

Leon scoots over while Merlin stands there truly stunned for a moment. Gwaine clears his throat shaking Merlin out of his confusion and the boy walks around the fire to sit next to his master.

Merlin wants to ask why Arthur has made such a request but with his strange mood today, he is afraid of what the prince will say in front of his men, so he doesn’t ask. Instead, he turns to his stew.

But before he can actually start eating there’s a hand clasped on his shoulder giving him a small yet aggressive shake.

“You did good work today Merlin,”

Oh gods what now?

“I’m happy you are able to come along. You do so much for all of us.” Arthur moves his hand from Merlin’s shoulder to the back of his neck but still keeps shaking the raven.

Merlin nearly spills his bowl on his lap.

The others watch on with a mix of confusion and knowing smiles.

“Arthur, what the hell has gotten into you?” Merlin narrows his eyes. This is more than Arthur’s guilt, the prince has never been able to be forwardly kind to him for more than thirty seconds before following it up with an insult. “Have you been hit with some sort of enchantment that makes you inexplicably kind to servants?”

It doesn’t look as if the prince is enchanted, he still looks like himself, none of that magical haziness in his eyes. Though perhaps he does look a bit manic.

Arthur very brightly fakes a laugh as the pads of three of his fingers slide down the nape of Merlin’s neck. The raven can’t help but tense at the feeling.

“Oh Merlin, you're always so amusing.” Arthur pushes his fingers under the fabric, it’s warmed from Merlin’s body heat, it feels comforting compared to the briskness in the air. Arthur then feels the telltale sign of supple leather.

His body almost immediately relaxes, he hadn’t realized how on edge he had been, his nerves feel a bit frayed but that is overtaken instantaneously by a joy so genuine it is nearly impossible to stop smiling.

Merlin’s eyebrows shoot up and cheeks pinken, now clearly aware of what Arthur is doing.

The servant bats his hand away. “Stop being so… so.. so... nice you dollophead.”

“You don’t want to be treated kindly?” Arthur half asks half teases, barely paying attention, too giddy about his discovery.

“Not when it’s from you. It’s unsettling. Unnatural even.” Merlin is finally able to get a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Has something happened recently sire?” Lancelot asks from the other side of the fire looking between the two. “You do seem rather… happy, today.”

“Am I not allowed to be nice to others?” Arthur asks but he can’t hide his joyous tone.

“No!” Merlin haughtily replies. “You’re never nice to others!”

“And who’s going to stop me Merlin? You?”

Your father. Is what Merlin would have liked to say but he knows better.

“Well, I think it’s good!” Gwaine butts in. “it’s about time the princess learned to loosen up!”

The knights go on to poke fun at Arthur but tactfully don’t hint that they may know what (or who) has the prince in such good spirits.

Merlin finishes his dinner before escaping their clearing to find some firewood.

Unfortunately, the next morning is not any better.

Merlin’s not exactly sure why Arthur is so adamant about being nice to him but honestly, Merlin hates it. It’s not Arthur. Sure some thanks and praise here and there wouldn’t be bad but this is so exceedingly excessive it’s starting to piss the servant off.

So, as they ready up in the morning, Merlin purposefully goes slow, he drops an apple before giving it to the prince, he fumbles with Arthur’s sword more than once and even trips more than normal, though truthfully that one isn’t on purpose. He just feels so off kilter with this overly friendly Arthur.

Arthur doesn’t rise to the bait though, he simply assists Merlin each time he makes a mistake. Merlin’s annoyance builds further.

Their day of riding goes by horrendously slowly, the air unusually warm and humid this late into the year.

When they finally stop for the night Arthur is first to dismount. He quickly moves over to Merlin’s horse. The boy had started ignoring him about an hour and a half ago, in hopes that Arthur would stop being so distressingly pleasant. In an attempt to keep ignoring him, Merlin pays him no mind as he slings his leg over his horse. That is until he feels Arthur’s hands on his hips.

Merlin flails his way to the ground, Arthur’s hands steadying him the entire way. When his feet hit the ground his back meets Arthur’s sturdy chest. Merlin whirls around on the prince.

“Arthur.” Merlin growls out.

“It's okay, no need to thank me.”

The knights snicker amongst themselves.

“If you don’t let up soon I will drag you back to Gaius so he can figure out whatever enchantment you are under and I will make sure he gives the foulest potion possible to cure you.”

“Is that a threat Merlin?” Arthur gasps over dramatically.

“No.” Merlin says easily, “If you don’t stop I will poison your portions tonight, don't think I don't know how.” His tone lowers as he speaks. “That. Is a threat.”

“That’s treason Merlin.” Arthur smirks.

“I-” Merlin pauses at Arthur’s smug aura. “You’re messing with me.”

Arthur’s smile turns blinding.

Arthur had genuinely intended to be nice to Merlin. But when his servant made it very clear how much it annoyed him, well he couldn’t resist.

Elyan chuckles, patting Merlin’s shoulder as he walks by, “Should have kept it up until he helped you unpack the horses.”

Merlin turns his glare back to Arthur who tries to wink, but he has still yet to master such a skill.

“Well, you better get to it.” Arthur ruffles his hair before pompously walking away.

While Merlin is a bit miffed that Arthur had been playing with him, he is more relieved that Arthur isn’t so ridden with guilt that he felt like he had to be excessively kind. Plus he’d get his work done much quicker without the prat getting in his way.

After he has finished cleaning their bowls Merlin sits back down next to Leon. Even though Arthur said he had been teasing him, Merlin hadn’t missed the way his eyes continued to linger on him as he went about his duties.

So just to annoy him Merlin sat on the other side of Leon, closer to Arthur than usual but far enough away that he can’t touch.

Arthur watches as Merlin rests his head companionably on Leon’s shoulder. The knight gives him a friendly smile before turning back to listen to Elyan’s outlandish story.

Merlin tries to ignore it, the want growing in his lower stomach. He wasn’t in pain, not yet but… he just… he wants.

He sits there a moment trying to figure out what has him feeling so… frisky, when he comes to a startling possibility.

Perhaps his body has gotten used to this routine. And last time he and Arthur didn't actually do anything.

Oh gods is he just going to get horny on schedule now? What happens after this is all over? He has to keep up and wank every two days? Merlin doesn't have time for that! Not between serving Arthur, working under Gaius, and saving Camelot. The only reason it works now is because it happens on the time he would be with Arthur anyway. Once this is over he can’t just sneak off every two days, Arthur would unquestionably know what he was doing.

But this want, gods it’s making him squirm. Well maybe he can sequester Arthur away even if it’s a bit early, they’ll need to soon anyways.

Merlin stands up suddenly, drawing the knights attentions. “I’m going to get some more firewood.” He turns to Arthur, “Perhaps his highness is still feeling kind enough to help? With two people we will be able to get the flames burning a bright orange in no time.” Merlin hopes he picks up on the hint.

Arthur immediately perks up, though neither of them notice Gwaine’s knowing grin spread across his face.

“Only you are too incompetent to find firewood on your own.” Arthur stands and starts making his way to the tree line, “Don’t worry I’ll protect you from the darkness.”

Merlin huffs indignantly before stomping after the prat.

The moment they are far enough away Arthur turns to Merlin and immediately pulls him into a deep kiss that leaves the servant breathless.

Arthur pulls back a bit, warm breath mixing with Merlin’s. “Pain?”

He can feel Merlin tense. Arthur instinctively takes a step back, not wanting to push Merlin, especially after last time.

“Uhm well, actually no. But just-" Merlin fumbles, his face flushing further as he looks anywhere but Arthur, “We didn’t get to last time, and well now I-” Merlin gives Arthur a pleading look in hopes he understands.

“Oh thank god, me too.” Arthur says before stepping forward, grabbing at his manservant’s hips as their mouths meet again.

Merlin moans as their bodies press together, he brings a hand to Arthur’s silky blonde locks. The prince works his leg in between Merlin’s and can already feel the younger’s hardness poking into his thigh.

God he has been on edge ever since he learned Merlin had worn his collar yesterday. Merlin marking himself as Arthur’s. The prince had tried to put his energy into teasing and being obnoxiously kind to him but it could only distract him so much. He had to hold himself back from pouncing his servant multiple times.

He’s quick to undo Merlin’s neckerchief, letting it fall to the ground. He can feel the raven smile against his mouth.

Arthur moves his lips down to Merlin’s neck, he places open mouth kisses along the length of the collar, nipping in certain spots he knows Merlin likes.

Each nip of Arthur’s teeth sends sparks of pleasure down to Merlin’s already leaking prick. Gods this is going to be a problem, how can he ever go back to not having this?

Arthur pushes Merlin’s coat off his shoulders and the servant is suddenly very annoyed that Arthur is wearing his chainmail.

Merlin huffs and tugs at the material to get his feelings across.

“It’s alright. We’ll work around it.” Arthur murmurs against his neck.

Merlin nuzzles Arthur’s face away from his neck only to kiss at the prince’s neck instead. His stubble is rough against Merlin’s lips.

Arthur groans at the heat from Merlin’s mouth. The prince runs his hands up under Merlin’s shirt, admiring the softness of his skin.

Merlin bites the crook of his neck and Arthur moans, his fingertips pressing into Merlin’s skin.

It’s not like Merlin can just strip Arthur’s chainmail off him, the time it takes to take off and put back on would surely have one of the knights coming to check on them. Merlin can however at least untie his cape, so he does. It falls silently to the ground below them.

Merlin is forced to detach from Arthur as the prince lifts his shirt over his head.

“Hold on,” Arthur says before Merlin can start kissing him again.

Merlin furrows his brow but listens. The prince turns around and picks up his cape, he gives it a shake before laying it on the ground.

“There, that’s better.” Arthur moves back to him, tongue sliding back in his mouth.

He leads his servant to his cape and coaxes him to lie down on it. Merlin raises an impatient eyebrow and Arthur can’t help but smile fondly at him.

Merlin tries and fails to hide his smile. He opens his legs teasingly in a silent invitation and Arthur’s prick gives a very interested twitch.

He settles between Merlin’s legs before devouring his mouth again. Arthur ghosts his hands down the boy's sides and goosebumps erupt on Merlin's arms and chest, his nipples pebbling.

Merlin groans at the feeling, one hand slides back into Arthur’s hair, the other resting on the side of the prince's neck.

Arthur moves his mouth down from Merlin’s kiss swollen lips to his neck, he places one kiss right below his golden pendant. He moves lower again to lave at Merlin’s collarbones.

“Ngh Arthur.”

The prince slides his hands under Merlin to grope at Merlin’s clothed arse. Merlin tightens his grip in his hair.

“We- mmph- we can’t be out here too long.”

“I know, don’t worry.” Arthur rumbles against Merlin’s chest.

The prince moves his mouth to Merlin’s nipple and his servant keens, thrusting his hips up against Arthur’s erection, or well his chainmail.

“Arth- uh- r.” Merlin moans but his complaint is clear.

“Easyyy” Arthur moves to his other nipple and Merlin has to stop himself from shouting lest he alert the knights.

Arthur continues to trail kisses down his stomach, Merlin’s muscles tighten at the ticklish feeling.

The prince makes quick work of Merlin’s trouser laces before pulling them and his smalls down around his mid-thigh where Arthur’s own body stops their path. Merlin’s cock twitches eagerly.

Not giving him any warning Arthur envelops his servant's cock in his mouth, the tart taste of precum coating his tongue.

Merlin groans at the feeling he can’t help but thrust up into Arthur’s mouth. Arthur chokes slightly and glares up at him.

“Sorry.” Merlin’s voice is gravelly, his head is raised to watch Arthur, lips swollen and parted.

Arthur rolls his eyes before sinking further down Merlin’s shaft.

His mouth is hot and tight and Merlin has been waiting longer than usual and he can feel his release building much too quickly for his liking.

“A-Arthur.” Merlin warns, Arthur pulls off just as Merlin cums, hot seed near violently coating his own stomach.

Merlin’s head falls back and his eyes scrunch close as he finishes.

His chest is a splotchy red heaving with panting breaths.

Arthur ignores his own entrapped erection for now, wanting to focus on his servant, another form of apology.

“Okay?”

Merlin nods, cracking his eyes open to look at Arthur.

“Good." Arthur continues, "Because we aren’t done yet.”

Merlin’s heart skips an excited beat. His enthusiasm must show on his face because Arthur chuckles as he moves back up Merlin's body, careful not to get any of his best friend’s seed on his armor, he leans over kissing Merlin again, it’s slow and secure.

When they part Merlin looks dazed out of his mind. Pupils wide, hair tousled, lips swollen. There’s a guttural sense of satisfaction in Arthur as he takes in the enticing view.

“So,” Merlin’s lips quirk mischievously “now what?”

“Now,” Arthur drawls. The prince takes two of his fingers and runs them through the cum on Merlin’s stomach before bringing them to the raven’s mouth. “Open.”

Merlin’s eyes dip down to Arthur’s fingers then back up to his eyes before taking the prince’s fingers in his mouth.

Unsurprisingly his own cum tastes just the same as any other he's had in his mouth before.

“Good boy.” Arthur praises and Merlin’s eyes grow darker with want.

Merlin swirls his tongue around the two digits before sliding in between the calloused fingers.

He sees the pink light reflect off of Arthur’s rapt face.

Arthur pulls them out and Merlin tries to chase them but instead, he is met with Arthur’s lips, his tongue aggressively lapping, licking up the taste of Merlin’s cum from his own mouth. The thought has Merlin’s spent cock awakening.

Arthur pulls back only to lick a stripe through his cum this time. Rather than bringing it into his mouth for himself, Arthur brings a thumb into Merlin's mouth holding his jaw open before diving back down, cum covered tongue rubbing and swirling against Merlin’s own.

Merlin’s wanton moan is met with a gruff groan from the prince.

Using more of Merlin’s cum, Arthur starts to work a finger in and out of the younger, working him open.

By the time Merlin is ready, Arthur could honestly spill in his trousers.

“Gonna fuck you now alright? Fuck your own cum into you, fill you with a mix of both of our spends.”

“Fuck, Arthur, yes, please yes.”

Arthur sits on his haunches, he unties and slides down his trousers and smalls before hauling up his chainmail with one hand. Then he takes a scoop of Merlin’s cum and spreads it across his throbbing prick.

“On your hands and knees.” Arthur commands and Merlin is quick to follow once he untangles their legs.

Settling on his knees, Merlin bends so his shoulders and upper chest lay on Arthur’s cape. The angle gives the prince an erotic view of Merlin’s arse, already wet with his own cum.

When Arthur takes too long admiring, Merlin wiggles his arse playfully, “Please sire, want you to fill me up.”

Arthur feels something inside him snap.

He takes Merlin’s hips in a harsh grip with the hand not holding his chainmail up and slides into his best friend in one thrust. Merlin gasps and jerks forward at the unexpected feeling. It takes everything in Arthur to not move, if they had gone all the way last time he wouldn't be holding back but he doesn’t want to risk damaging his Merlin.

When Merlin moves Arthur doesn't hesitate to move his hips back before snapping them forward again.

Merlin Moans into his arm, not wanting to be too loud, but even muffled, his pleasure filled sounds send shockwaves through Arthur.

Arthur is rough as he fucks down into Merlin nearly pushing his servant to the ground with the force of each thrust.

Beautifully broken ‘ah, ah, ah’s, throaty whines and needy whimpers escape Merlin’s parted lips as he’s fucked relentlessly by Arthur.

“Not gonna last much longer.” Arthur grunts out as his thrusts become sporadic.

“Please Arthur, please want it, want you.”

“Fuck I- ah fuck Merlin.” Arthur groans, moving his hand from Merlin’s hip to the servant's cock.

Merlin wails as his second orgasm of the night washes over him. He shakes as his muscles tense, hot cum spurting onto the cape below him.

Arthur can’t hold on any longer when Merlin tightens around him, his cum floods into his Servant, and god does it feel divine.

They stay there for a moment before Arthur pulls out and flops down next to Merlin.

“Uhm, Arthur?”

“Hmm?” Arthur turns to the raven who hasn’t moved.

“Your cape.”

Arthur looks down to where Merlin’s second orgasm now lies.

“Eh, it’s fine.” Arthur shrugs, “you’ll clean it anyways.”

“I can't before we get back to camp.”

“Oh.” Arthur realizes what he means. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Merlin narrows his eyes but Arthur pulls him over so half of his body rests on his.

Arthur’s chainmail is uncomfortable but the coolness of the metal feels nice.

“Arthur we can’t stay here, we have to go back.”

“Fine. But I need to show you how to clean up since I promised ages ago and haven't been able to show you.”

Merlin blushes but nods.

Once Merlin is fully cleaned off, thanks to Arthur's cape, they get their clothes back as orderly as they can. Arthur insists on tying Merlin's neckerchief for him, giving him another chance to admire the black leather that sits against his servant's skin.

“Alright we really need-” Merlin starts but before he can continue Arthur pulls him into a crushing hug, the prince buries his head in the crook of Merlin’s neck.

“A-Arthur?”

“I wasn’t- it wasn’t a joke earlier. I wanted you to know how much I appreciate you.”

Once his shock fades Merlin relaxes into Arthur’s hold, wrapping his arms around the prince in return. He nuzzles his head against the prince’s.

“Thank you for telling me. I- I appreciate the effort.”

Arthur hums in acknowledgment.

“But if you try to get in my way again-”

Arthur snorts. “At first I meant it, then I saw how annoyed you were getting, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Prat.” Merlin huffs out.

Arthur tightens his squeezing even further.

“Too tight.” Merlin wheezes out.

Arthur chuckles before loosening his hold again but still doesn't let go.

“I do though.”

“Hmm?”

“I do appreciate everything you do for me.” Arthur’s voice is unsure.

There’s a pause before Merlin replies, his voice soft. “I know Arthur. I know it’s difficult for you to talk about such things. But I appreciate you telling me.” Merlin burrows further into Arthur’s hold.

“Okay. Good.” Arthur’s voice is gruff as he gives one final squeeze to his servant, placing a kiss on his temple.

Merlin looks at him, eyes wide and beautiful. They stare at each other for a moment before Arthur clears his throat. “We should… we should head back.”

“Yes. Right. Of course.”

Merlin is both surprised and confused when no one questions why Arthur is carrying his cape rather than wearing it.

He’s even more confused when a few of the knights toss some coins to Elyan.

“What’s that about?” Merlin asks curiously.

“We had a bet if you two would actually bring back firewood.” Elyan says with a mischievous smirk.

Merlin and Arthur both freeze mid-step.

There’s some snickering as Merlin blushes a bright scarlet. He frantically turns back to look at Arthur who is also blushing, yet the prince holds his chin up in a rather self-satisfied manner.

Merlin glares daggers at him.

“What?!” Arthur exasperates, "You forgot too!”

“Oh gods.” Merlin groans “It’s not what you think.”

They go on to explain what has been going on. Not in very much detail but Merlin does explain how to dispel the curse, so there’s no confusion.

There’s some laughter and disbelief but Gwaine makes sure to back up their statement to those who think they were just trying to hide their relationship. That brings up more questions to which Gwaine replies ‘he doesn’t kiss and tell’ which is not only an answer in itself but they all know it’s a load of bullshite.

They are actually not as surprised as Merlin thought they would be. He doesn’t know how to feel about that.

After some more teasing and jests they settle in for the night, Lancelot kindly offering to take first watch.

Everyone opted to sleep on their bedrolls rather than in them due to the humid air. Merlin has always struggled to sleep when it’s too warm out. And it’s not like he can take off his neckerchief lest he is teased until the end of time come morning.

The stars are bright tonight, dancing between different colors. He knows a few constellations but he can’t be bothered to find them, he simply enjoys the beauty of the celestial lights. He peeks around to see if anyone else is awake other than Lancelot who sits a bit away. While no one is snoring they all have their eyes closed as far as he can see, except for Arthur who is looking at him from his usual spot next to his servant.

Merlin raises a questioning brow.

“Can I ask you a question?” Arthur asks, tone hushed.

“You just did.”

Arthur stretches over to shove at his servant.

“Of course, Arthur.” Merlin’s tone is laced with amused yet relaxed teasing.

Arthur looks up to the starry sky above them. The fire crackles softly as the crickets sing in the forest. “You always talk of destinies and great futures and fate.” His voice is contemplative.

Merlin’s heart skips an unsure beat.

Arthur continues, not looking at him, “Do you truly believe in such things? That no matter what, our futures are already decided for us?”

Merlin sighs, isn’t that a loaded question. He can’t help but think of Kilgharrah and his talks of such things.

“Honestly? I’m not sure.” Merlin turns his gaze back to the sky as well. “But I think that perhaps there are some things that are so strong they will come to fruition, no matter what.”

Arthur hums and the silence stretches out for a while before the prince breaks it again.

“Like what?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s something you believe will happen no matter what?”

“Oh. Well, that’s easy.” Arthur can hear the shy smile in Merlin’s tone without having to look at him. “Obviously, you’re going to be the greatest king Camelot has ever seen. That all of Albion has ever seen.”

“How can you be so sure?” Arthur narrows his eyes and turns to Merlin but his servant doesn’t turn to meet his gaze.

“Because I know you, Arthur. The real you, not the prince. Not the knight. Not heir to the throne. Just…you. You’re a good person”

Arthur doesn’t know how to reply to that. Merlin’s unwavering faith always fills him with an unyielding determination to create the future the boy dreams of. To be the best king Albion has ever seen, to give Merlin the future he deserves.

“Is there anything else? You believe to be already written in the stars?”

There’s another long pause before Merlin speaks again.

“Yes. I think perhaps some souls are tangled together by the strings of fate. Destined to be together, in whatever way that may be.”

“Like soulmates?”

“I suppose.”

“Hmm. I like that idea.”

Merlin takes a deep breath, focusing on the stars and nothing else knowing he wouldn’t have the courage to ask otherwise. “Do you think, perhaps in another life, if you weren’t a prince, and I wasn’t a…sorcerer a servant, do you think we’d still find each other?”

Merlin isn’t sure what answer he wants to hear. But perhaps this pull he’s always felt towards Arthur isn’t just because Merlin knows of their shared destiny. Maybe … maybe there’s more to it. Would Merlin still feel the way he does about Arthur had he never learned about their inevitable fate?

Arthur is silent as he thinks it over for a moment. “No, I don't think we would.”

Merlin’s heart sinks. Perhaps his knowledge of their star crossed destiny has misguided his feelings down a desolate and naive path that-

“Because,” Arthur continues, his voice barely a whisper, “I was lucky enough to find you once, I doubt I’d be so lucky again.”

Merlin turns to look at Arthur but the prince is staring resolutely at the stars.

Arthur continues on, “But, if somehow we were to find each other again,” the corner of Arthur’s mouth quirks up slightly, “well, maybe you’ll land your punch next time.”

Merlin snorts.

Arthur turns to him with an amused yet soft smile.

Merlin smiles shyly as they look at each other. Merlin speaks up first.

“Goodnight, Arthur.”

“Goodnight, Merlin.”

Merlin’s final rating: 8

Crossdressing
The act of wearing clothes
traditionally worn by
the opposite sex.

Merlin’s original rating: 3

It had been just over a day of traveling until they reached a spot the prince deemed close enough to the Saxon encampment. Thankfully the humidity has since died down, though the cool wind of early autumn chills Merlin’s fingers as he tends to the horses.

“Alright men gather round,” Arthur calls to his knights.

The knights all make their way over to the prince, their armor clamoring as they move.

“You too Merlin.”

Merlin’s head snaps up from the horse to Arthur who is beckoning him over. A few of the knights raise teasing eyebrows at each other.

Merlin pulls on the rope making sure the horse is safely tied up before warily walking over. “Me?”

“Yes you Merlin, unless you see someone else with such a ridiculous name around here?”

Merlin grumbles something inaudible to Arthur as he joins their circle. Gwaine playfully shoulders the servant as he stands next to the knight.

“Leon and I have been in discussion and have come up with the best plan of attack.”

Leon nods his head from his spot next to the prince. “Due to the reports we received, we believe it will be best if we cause a distraction before attacking, to catch them off guard.”

“And that is where you come in Merlin.” Arthur says seriously, but there’s the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes.

“And why do I have to be the distraction?” Merlin drawls.

“Well,” Leon speaks up again, “No one else could pass as a woman.”

…

…

The silence stretches on far too long.

Merlin blinks comically, clearly not understanding what Leon means. “What?”

“Well if one of us trie-”

“What?!” Merlin says again, truly baffled at what the hell is going on.

Leon clears his throat a bit sheepishly, “Sire, perhaps you should explain.”

“No,” Arthur’s voice is tight with restraint, clearly trying not to laugh. “I really don’t think I should.” The prince exhales a puff of air that sounds suspiciously like a chortle.

“Let me get this straight.” Merlin stands up to his full height, raising his chin defiantly as he narrows his eyes at the first knight. “You expect me to dress up like a woman and distract their encampment?”

“No. Not the entire encampment, just their leader.” Leon smiles as if what he is saying is any better.

“And just exactly how do you expect me to distract him?”

“Oh God no.” Arthur cuts back in, “Nothing like that. We just need to create a diversion.”

“And Merlin can’t do that without being dressed like a woman?” Lancelot asks.

Merlin shoots the man an appreciative look.

It’s Gwaine who speaks up next, “If Merlin were to go in there and try to create a diversion they would just kill him. They wouldn’t kill a woman though.”

“Exactly.” Leon exclaims.

“Hold on!” Merlin huffs, “That still doesn’t explain why I have to be the one to do it.”

“Well, you could pull off being a woman more than any of us could.” Leon replies.

If it was anyone other than Leon saying that Merlin would have seriously considered trying to sock them.

“How does that make any sense! I’m one of the tallest here!” Merlin argues looking around at all the knights who have begun to inspect each other, clearly trying to picture the others as women.

“I mean, I get why you didn’t volunteer Percival. But what about… Elyan?” Merlin argues, gesturing to the man.

“Oi!”

“His shoulders are too wide.” Arthur argues.

“Then Gwaine! He’s shorter and his hair is longer!”

“Hey! I’m not that much shorter.” The knight pouts.

“Yes, because a bearded woman won’t be suspicious.” Arthur retorts.

“So Lancelot and I are out as well.” Leon unhelpfully supplies.

Merlin turns his gaze to Percival only for the large knight to shrug apologetically. Merlin’s gaze snaps to the prince.

Arthur swallows harshly. He isn’t unused to Merlin’s glares but it's rare for the servant to stand at his full height, not that Arthur would ever admit it but Merlin can be rather intimidating when he wants to be. Merlin encroaches on him and Arthur hates the way he has to lift his eyes, even if it’s the smallest of fractions.

“And you sire?”

“I have to lead my men.” Arthur supplies easily. However, Leon responds at the same exact time with, “His waist is too wide.”

Arthur can visibly see the amusement make its way onto Merlin's face, though unfortunately, it’s not enough to distract him.

“And what do I get out of this?”

“You get to make sure your prince returns back to Camelot safely,” Arthur replies cockily.

“Hmm can’t say that’s worth it.”

Arthur narrows his eyes at his servant as the knights chuckle.

“What do you want then?”

“A week off.”

Arthur sputters for a moment. “Absolutely not!”

“Five days.”

“One day.”

“Three days.”

“One. Day.”

“Two days.”

“Twenty-four hours.”

There’s a pause as they hold each other's glares, neither willing to back down.

“I get to choose the day.”

“Within reason,” Arthur replies, “I can’t have you parading about during a time where I require your services.”

“Fine.” Merlin grouses.

Honestly, it’s better than nothing. Not that Merlin even really minds the idea of being used as bait. And the idea of wearing women's clothing isn’t bad either, he just didn't appreciate everyone immediately agreeing he was the best candidate. He is just as man as anyone else here, even if he isn’t a knight.

“Do we even have a dress? I can assure you I didn’t pack one.”

“I did.” Leon replies almost excitedly and Merlin has to take a deep breath to calm himself. Leon isn’t purposely trying to rile him up, he’s just never been the best at social cues, likely due to his noble upbringing.

The knight goes over to his horse to pull out the dress of one of his saddlebags as Arthur explains the rest of their plan to the others. Merlin begrudgingly follows.

He isn’t sure what he had expected but it certainly wasn’t one of Morgana’s dresses. While Merlin can’t see exactly what it looks like from the way Leon is holding it, there’s no doubt it belongs to the lady Morgana as it’s clearly made out of rich materials.

Merlin stares at the rich fabric incredulously. “And why must I wear a noblewoman’s clothing?”

Leon shrugs while digging further into his bag, “They’ll be less likely to harm someone they could get a ransom for, if it comes to that. And Guinevere’s dresses were too short to adjust to your height.”

Leon pulls out a small satchel. Merlin does not like where this is going.

The knight continues, “We couldn’t ask any of the other serving girls in case word of our siege spread.”

Merlin supposes he can understand that.

“Here.” Leon hands him the dress.

Merlin takes it with a frown. “You know Leon, you just fell a few places on my knight rankings.”

“You have such a thing?”

“Of course I do.” Merlin smirks mischievously.

“Well… you’re still my favorite servant.”

“Flattery will not undo your new ranking.” Merlin smiles.

“Not yet it hasn’t.”

Merlin snorts.

“Alright, go and get changed.” Leon nods his head to the trees, “I’m sure you’d rather do it while Arthur is still occupying the others.”

“Right.” Merlin grimaces.

After finding a spot obscured by enough foliage Merlin holds up the dress out in front of him. Surprisingly it has a hood that will allow him to hide his face a bit at least. It looks like it’s one of Morgana’s fancier dresses. How they managed to convince her to let them borrow it is beyond him.

There are two main layers, a blue satin underskirt and the outer purple layer that is inlined with some kind of gray fur, at first Merlin had thought it was hare but upon closer inspection, it looks to be fox.

The sleeves are lined with fur up until the elbow where a white-gold embroidered cuff lays, from there to the hand hole is a loose sheer fabric that billows down much further than what seems practical in Merlin’s humble opinion.

On the front the skirt is slit up the middle revealing the blue satin underskirt up until the waist where an elegant pattern is embroidered with the same white gold as the cuffs around the elbows.

Now if Merlin could only get the freaking thing on.

Merlin hadn’t known how to do half of the prince’s clothes when he first arrived let alone a noblewoman’s clothing and it’s not as if he’s ever practiced such a thing. There are so many layers and flaps and ribbons.

It takes far too long but he does manage to get it on his body well enough. It is a bit tight in the shoulders and rather loose in the chest. But now that he’s gotten this far he has no idea how he's supposed to tie up the ribbons on the back.

After some more time passes with him unable to even attempt tying the ribbons he calls out for Leon, hopefully he is still standing by.

When no one arrives after a few moments he tries calling out again a little louder this time.

Finally, he hears the shuffling of brush as the knight approaches. However when the figure appears Merlin’s hope sinks.

“You’re not Leon.”

Arthur stares at Merlin a moment too long, eyes raking up and down his body before he clears his throat. He takes a few steps closer as he speaks, “No. And you should be glad I’m not.” The prince flicks the golden pendant on Merlin’s collar, clearly unhidden by the dress.

“Ah.” Merlin flushes. “Right.” He goes to unlatch it but Arthur is quicker. The prince reaches around his neck, Merlin would be able to feel the heat coming off of Arthur’s body if it weren’t for the prince’s armor.

To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur pockets the object himself but neither say anything about it.

“What do you need help with?” Arthur takes a step back.

“I can’t get to the ribbons on the back.” Merlin turns around to show Arthur what he is talking about.

“Merlin, how many times have you told me just how capable you are at dressing yourself?” Arthur teases. “Being a peasant you’d never be so incompetent as to rely on someone else to dress you. You could never be so idiotic as to not know how to do such a thing! It’s common sense really. Only those spoilt arrogant nobles are dumb enough to need someone to dress them.”

Merlin looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. “A lady’s clothing is much more complicated, sire. They actually need assistance with the bits they can’t reach. It's no wonder Gwen never complains about serving Morgana, she’s clearly actually needed.”

Arthur starts to do up the silk laces, perhaps just a tad too tight. It’s not unlike lacing up his boots, though he hasn’t had to do such a thing himself since he was young. “Are you saying your position is unneeded then?” Merlin can feel the prince’s breath cascade across the back of his neck. “Then I suppose I could just fire you and you could find another job.”

“Oh please, you'd come looking for me in less than two days.” Merlin can feel the fabric getting pulled tighter around his body as the prince continues. “Truly it would be more like one day, but your bullheadedness would have you holding out longer.”

Arthur gives the laces a particularly harsh tug causing Merlin to gasp.

Honestly, it isn't as unpleasant as he thought it would be. The fur is incredibly soft against his skin and the satin feels so silky against his legs, he’s never felt anything quite like it.

Arthur has seen plenty of different noble women's dresses to know that the ribbons should be tied in a bow but he has never learned such a thing. Unwilling to admit that to his servant he simply ties it in a sturdy knot.

“There.” Arthur puts his hands on his own hips and admires his handiwork, not perfect but good enough.

Merlin turns around and, the fabric, now tighter in his chest, is still not quite tight enough. Not much he can do about that though, he isn’t a woman after all.

As he moves the luxurious fabrics brush up against his skin and he can’t suppress his shudder. Nor can he suppress the magic he feels tingle through him.

Arthur just manages to see as Merlin’s eyes fade from pink as he turns around.

Arthur can't help the sly smile that makes its way onto his face.

“It’s not what you think.” Merlin huffs.

“I told you Merlin, I would never tease you about this sort of thing.”

Merlin narrows his eyes at the egotistical looking prince.

“Plus, what a man does in his spare time is completely up to him.” Arthur turns and starts walking away.

“It’s not what you think! The fabric is just so nice-”

“It’s alright, it just makes the siege tonight all the less worrisome.”

“Arthur really it’s not-”

“The color suits you, Merlin.” Arthur quips before sauntering back into the clearing.

Merlin stumbles and nearly trips over a root as his heart skips a traitorous beat at the vexatious compliment.

The moment Merlin is out of the treeline he is met with various wolf whistles and flirty catcalls. He has to fight down a smile at the ridiculousness of his friends. Instead of rising to the bait, Merlin decides to play into it.

He gasps dramatically and puts a hand to his chest. “Oh my,” Merlin says in a breathy voice he pitches up, “And to think I had heard the knights of Camelot were a chivalrous bunch. Clearly, your reputation does not precede you.” Merlin snootily harrumphs.

Arthur sits down on a log and watches amusedly as his servant teases his men. Gwaine stands up and starts to sashay over to Merlin but surprisingly Leon makes it to the servant first.

“My sincerest apologies my lady.” The knight takes Merlin’s hand and brings it to his lips, it’s clear Leon is doing his best to look serious but there’s a slight twitch to his lips. “Please excuse the others, they don’t know how to behave in the presence of such a beautiful woman.”

Merlin nearly keels over at the gobsmacked expressions of the others, Arthur in particular looks half horrified and half dumbfounded.

“Sir Leon, while I appreciate such affable words I am worried you may have ulterior motives.”

“Leon?” Gwaine squeaks, “ulterior motives?”

Lancelot chuckles, “Never thought I’d hear those two things in the same sentence.”

“And on what grounds do you make such a claim, my lady?” Elyan asks, coming to Leon’s aid.

Merlin opens his mouth to reply but the first knight is quicker.

“I’m afraid she is right.” Leon hangs his head lowly.

There’s a raucous of startled laughs, gasps, and choking sounds. Merlin can’t hold it in any longer and starts laughing.

“Well, Sir Leon, I suppose you could retain your previous ranking on my list.”

“Thank you, my lady, you are very generous” Leon half bows.

“List? What list?” Arthur asks from where he sits.

“Uh oh Merlin,” Lancelot calls out, “You’ve done it now.”

“What list?” Arthur asks again more impatiently now.

“Sorry sire, I’m afraid I must finish getting Merlin prepared.” Leon starts to tug Merlin over to the horses.

“What list!”

Merlin stares at the first knight incredulously.

“Merlin, we need for this to work.” Leon urges.

“Clothes are one thing, this is completely different.”

“It needs to be believable.”

“Next banquet you have to snag me a honey cake.”

Leon rolls his eyes, “Fine. Now will you stand still?”

Merlin sighs but relents. It would be so easy for him to go in there and just use his magic to deal with the encampment but here he is, dressed as a woman.

The brush is smooth against his lips, and a pleasant minty scent drifts up his nose. It’s a strange sensation that Merlin can’t really relate to anything, he imagines this is how it feels to have paint on one's skin; not that Merlin has ever used pain in his life but he’s seen royal artists meander about the castle, their hands splotched with varying colors.

“Don’t lick it.”

“But it feels strange.”

“Stranger than a sword in your abdomen?” Leon raises a brow.

“Fine. Just get on with it.”

“Of course, my lady.”

“Don't think I won’t poison your food.”

Leon smiles as he dips another brush in a black pigment. As the knight brings it to Merlin’s eyes he instantly recognizes the smell, charcoal, just this one seems to be in the form of paste.

Merlin closes his eyes and he can feel how meticulous the knight is being, the brush barely ghosting across his skin. There’s a moment where Merlin doesn't feel anything and is about to open his eyes when the brush makes contact with his other eyelid and he can’t help but jump at the unexpected feeling.

“Sorry.” Leon murmurs.

Merlin huffs out a breath in reply, not wanting to move and mess the knight up.

“Okay. All done.”

Merlin’s eyes flutter open.

Leon looks at him for a moment before the lightest blush tints the knight's cheeks.

“Uhm, here.” Leon holds up a small pocket mirror for Merlin to peer into.

The servant’s cheeks heat at what he sees. As much as he loathes to admit it, he does look… well he looks pretty. The red paste brings out the shape of his lips and the charcoal on his eyes makes the blue look even more vibrant. Even with his masculine features, he looks remarkably feminine.

“Alright.” Merlin clears his throat, “Let’s get on with this.”

He had been expecting a similar reaction from the knights from when they saw him in the dress. What he hadn’t expected was the wide eyes and startling silence.

Merlin narrows his eyes at the group and crosses his arms. “What?” His voice is terse, but he can’t help it, the silence is unsettling.

“You just…” Lancelot trails off.

“It’s… you…” Elyan tries and fails to follow up.

Percival is the first one who manages to get a sentence out. “I- I’m confused.”

Gwaine perks up at that, “Well big man, I’d be glad to help you clear up that confusion.”

It’s enough to shake the others out of their stupor. “Gwaine!” Leon reprimands.

Arthur clears his throat but doesn’t stop looking at Merlin. His expression is a peculiar amalgamation of confusion and lustful hunger.

Merlin doesn’t know how to feel about that.

Arthur speaks up, “We don’t have time for you to adulterate the other knights.”

Percival’s confused expression quickly turns embarrassed.

The prince continues, “We go over the plan one last time before we take our positions, understood?”

His question is met with a round of ‘yes sire’s.

It’s just before sunset and they are all huddled in a collection of gangly brush. Through the gaps in the foliage, they can see the flickering of flames on canvas fabric. There have to be at least thirty tents.

Men dressed in rugged furs meander about their campgrounds, some already drunk, others going about their assigned duties.

“It’s alright.” Arthur says lowly next to Merlin.

The warlock isn't sure exactly what prompted such words as he truly isn’t that worried, it isn’t as if Merlin hasn’t been on countless scouting missions with them. And even though it’s a rare occurrence he has been used as bait before. Though if he’s being honest he much preferred wearing the chainmail instead.

“I know.” Merlin replies easily.

Arthur glances over to him. His servant's unwavering faith in his abilities is always a bit unnerving. Not that Arthur doesn’t think he can keep Merlin safe, he knows he will, but no matter how many times it presents itself the raven’s bravery will always fill Arthur with confounded awe.

“You remember the plan?”

“Yes Arthur.”

“Alright. Good.”

“Sire.” Leon states, indicating they need to get a move on.

“Right.” Arthur clears his throat. “We’ll be watching the whole time. We’ll step in if something goes wrong. Don’t go looking for trouble.”

Merlin’s red painted lips form a bright smile, “When do I ever get into trouble?”

Lancelot has to muffle his choking sound, Merlin sends him an impish look.

Arthur sighs, “Just, be careful.” He pulls the hood of the dress up so it frames Merlin’s face, it’s an intimate gesture but thankfully none of the knights say anything. Purple really does suit him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Merlin dismisses as he stands up, untangling his dress from the bushes. But just before he leaves the woods he whispers “You too.”

“Oh sirs! Thank gods! Sirs please! I need your help!” Merlin dramatically calls in his best womanly voice, stumbling into the clearing.

Two men rush up to him immediately and Merlin drapes himself on the larger one’s chest in an attempt to hide some of his height. “Oh please, my guards were attacked by bandits! I’ve been running nearly all day. You must help, please, who knows what they would have done! I promise I can reward you greatly! Please let me talk to your leader.”

The two men look at each other for a moment, the one Merlin is leaning against clearly flustered, he waves his arms aimlessly, unsure of where to put his hands.

“Let’s bring her to the boss, he’ll know what to do.” The other one says with a seedy smile. “Don’t worry my lady, we'll be sure to help you.”

“Oh thank you! Thank you so much!” Merlin’s eyes fill with tears as he looks up at them.

The two men start to lead him further into the encampment, hands not leaving his body. He quickly garners the attention of everyone they pass, clearly not expecting to see a distressed noble lady. All the while he can feel the intense gazes of the knights on him.

In the center of the encampment, there is a large bonfire burning as a man plays his lute while others drink, gamble, and roughhouse with each other. There’s also quite a few cages that contain muzzled foxes, badgers, boars, and even some eagles. Clearly, they’ve decided to poach while they are in enemy territory.

They arrive at the largest tent and the only one that has guards standing outside. They give the two men wary looks, Merlin doesn’t want to decipher the looks they send his way.

“What’s the meaning of this?” The guard on the left asks.

“That's for the boss to hear.” The man Merlin had originally draped himself against sneers as he tightens his hand on Merlin’s hip.

The two guards share a look before the one on the right pokes his head into the large tent. “Boss, you’re gunna want to see this.”

There’s a grumbling sound from inside before a man steps out. Merlin had expected the usual bandit leader type, the ones that are usually large, not particularly muscular, well fed.

He had not expected a man whose stature surpasses even that of Percival. He has no shirt on, yet has fur draped around his shoulders and leather straps that cross over his scarred chest, holding the axe on his back in place. The left side of his face has a gnarly scar that goes over his cloudy left eye. His curly brown hair is tied up, adding to his height. His pants ride low on his hips, where an assortment of small daggers and hunting trophies hang, Merlin can only recognize a rabbit's foot.

“My my,” the leader’s voice is low and gravelly. “What do we have here?”

“Boss, we found this woman on the outskirts of our encampment, says her guards were attacked by bandits, and she needs some help.” The amusement is clear in the lackey's voice.

The leader narrows his eyes at Merlin. “And what exactly was a lady and her knights doing traveling through the woods?”

“Ah you see, my brothers and father headed home a bit ago and I was to stay in Camelot in hopes of winning the prince’s favor.”

“And how did that go, lady…?”

“Lady Ambrosius of Northumbria. And not well mind you, the prince is a complete prat! Truly insufferable. He had no manners and didn't know how to treat a lady.”

“Well don't worry my lady, I can assure you I know how to treat a woman right, nobility or not.”

The others snicker around them as Merlin feels his insides turn.

“Well I would hope so, especially with the day I have had, you would not believe it.” He tries to play off the remark.

“Oh don’t worry,” The large man takes a step forward and moves his hands to either side of Merlin’s hips, pushing the other men away in the process. “I’ll make you forget all about your disastrous day.”

“Oh,” Merlin giggles airly, “well, I do like a man in power.” He takes a quick glance around the camp. “Perhaps you’d be so inclined to show me around first? I’d love to see what you are in charge of.” Merlin draws with a sultry tone.

Merlin has met more than enough power hungry men in his life to know exactly how to inflate their ego.

An amused look overtakes the rapacious one on the leader's face. “If that is my lady’s only request, I can oblige.”

“Thank you very much sir….?”

“Oh please I am no sir. Just call me Bowen, sweetheart.” The man brings his hand to cup Merlin’s face, the tips of his fingers brush against Merlin’s hair that is currently hidden underneath his hood. The man frowns slightly.

“Short hair?”

“Yes, It is a family tradition, I am not to grow it out until I am betrothed.” Merlin answers easily.

The man grumbles something about ‘ridiculous noble traditions’ under his breath before answering. “Very well, let me show you around my lady.” He tucks Merlin into his side and starts to lead him around the camp, though the warlock gets the feeling it’s more to show him off to the others rather than showing off his encampment.

Arthur watches stony faced, muscles taught, as various men lay their hands on Merlin. He needs to focus on the plan though, Merlin’s safety is on the line. No matter how badly he wants to march in there and run those men through, he’s not going to risk Merlin.

Some of the knights have started the second step of the plan, currently working their way around to the other side of the encampment. It’s just him, Lancelot, and Percival who have not moved yet, keeping an eye on Merlin in case anything goes wrong.

“He’ll be alright.” Lancelot offers softly.

Arthur glances to the knight for only a second before returning his attention forward. “Of course he will be, he has us watching after him.”

“He’s stronger than you think.” Lancelot offers amicably.

Arthur nearly laughs at that. “Strong isn’t a word I would associate with someone who is so lanky.”

Lancelot chuckles slightly, “That's not what I meant. He just- he’s done a lot, for all of us.”

“I know.”

Lancelot whips his head to the prince.

Arthur continues, “He’s in danger every time he joins us on our travels. Hell, even just being my manservant puts him in danger.”

Lancelot sighs a breath of relief.

“He knows that though, he’s brave.” Percy interjects.

His statement is met with affirmative hums.

The sun has sunk below the horizon, now casting everything in a dark blue hue. The night is particularly cool, just a bit colder and Arthur is certain he’d be able to see his breath puff into the air. Even the crickets aren’t chirping tonight.

When Merlin and the leader of the encampment come to a stop in front of a rowdy group of men, Arthur’s blood runs hot as the man lowers his hand to Merlin’s backside. Arthur goes to grab his sword but Lancelot stops him with a firm grasp.

“Not yet, we haven't received the sign. He's alright.” Though Lancelot does not look to be happy about the situation either.

The laughter of the drunken men echo in the air around them. Then Arthur watches as the leader brings his mouth down on Merlin's; the hand on his arse starts vigorously groping.

Arthur and his two knights are up immediately, Percy whistling a bird call, sending out their own signal to warn the others they aren’t going to wait any longer. Hopefully, they are close enough to keep to the plan.

The three of them do their best to move silently as they close in on the encampment.

Merlin nearly gags as the man shoves his tongue down his throat. He tastes of ale and smoke. Merlin wills himself to not shove the man off. His magic is humming under his skin urging him to fight back but he can’t, not when he knows the knights are watching.

It’s then everything seems to explode around them.

Bowen pulls off as the laughs of his men turn into panicked shouts. It’s then the leader sees multiple tents up in flames.

He tightens his grip on Merlin before grabbing his forearm so harshly Merlin is afraid it’ll snap. “You scheming whore.” The man's face is scathing but Merlin can’t help but feel pride for getting such a reaction out of the man.

“What? Did you think some lone noble woman would willingly let you take her to bed?” Merlin keeps his voice high just in case Bowen decides to run him through, and based on his expression he most certainly would.

The man yanks Merlin harshly back towards the center of the camp and he can’t help but yelp out in pain as his shoulder is nearly dislocated. “Oh don't worry I still plan to have my way with you.” The leader growls as he drags the warlock behind him. “And after I’ve had my fill of your pretty mouth I’ll cut yer fucking tongue out.”

When Merlin sees where he is being led he starts fighting harder. The last thing he wants to do is make this even more difficult for the knights.

Unfortunately, there is no feasible way for Merlin to overpower this man by strength alone, so when he yanks one of the large animal cages open Merlin can’t stop himself from being thrown in. Thankfully he doesn’t hit his head but his shoulder takes the brunt of the impact, slamming against one of the bars on the other side of the cage, not that it’s very large to begin with.

The warlock hisses at the pain and grabs his shoulder.

“Stay here and watch your comrades die. Then, when I’m covered in their blood I’ll come back for you.”

Merlin’s stomach clenches at the idea but he has full confidence in the knights. (And his own magical abilities.)

Once Bowen takes off from the center of the camp Merlin immediately gets to work using his magic to locate all the knights. Seeing that they’re all safe for the time being, Merlin focuses on spreading the flames to the other tents without getting in the way of the knights. When the fire starts spreading too rapidly more and more of the Saxon men start taking off into the woods. After only a few moments Merlin can sense Arthur approaching so he immediately cuts off his magic.

“Merlin!” Arthur calls as he runs up to his cage.

“Arthur!” Merlin calls in his regular voice.

They each grab onto the bars of the cage on their respective sides.

“Are you okay?” Arthur’s eyes scan his body for injuries.

“It’s fine, I’m fine.”

“We have to get you out of here, the fire’s spreading fast.” Arthur quickly inspects the lock.

Merlin feels an all too familiar pang of guilt.

“Arthur it’s okay I’m sure… ARTHUR!”

The prince ducks just in time to avoid an axe to the head. The weapon clangs against the metal and Merlin swears he just felt his teeth chatter in his head. Once his head stops vibrating Merlin watches as Arthur does not hesitate to swing at Bowen, each slash of his sword just as brutal and relentless as the last, every attack aimed to kill. Even with his bad eye, Bowen is able to parry each of Arthur’s attacks though he is on the defensive. But Arthur is quick and wearing down the larger man’s stamina.

Merlin is watching intensely for a moment where Arthur might need his help.

Lancelot slides to a stop in front of the cage and Merlin nearly falls on his arse from being startled.

Lancelot looks around quickly, his eyes linger on Arthur’s fight for a brief second before turning back to Merlin. “Unlock it, quick.” The knight hisses.

Merlin doesn’t have to be told twice. He wordlessly unlocks his cage with a quick thought.

The moment it’s unlocked Lancelot turns to stop a wayward Saxon lackey from teaming up on Arthur.

He makes quick work of the man as Arthur’s battle persists. Each man is dripping sweat from the exertion and the heat of the growing flames. Over to the far left Merlin can see Leon and Gwaine fighting back to back but he doesn't see any sign of Elyan or Percy. But he has to focus on Arthur.

But it seems Arthur doesn’t need his help, Bowen is growing slow. His movements become heavier as he tries to keep up his defense against Arthur’s blazing attacks. Lancelot gives Merlin a nod before going off to look for the other two knights.

It’s only a few more swings before Merlin sees it coming. He looks away as he hears the routine sound of Arthur’s sword being driven through a man. However, Merlin hears it again and again and again. He can’t help but wince, though he takes that moment for another wordless display of magic, he unlocks and unmuzzles all the caged animals before commanding them to a path that is clear of flames.

When he turns around Arthur’s chest is heaving, blood splattered on his armor and a bit on his face. The flames light up the smoke around them ensconcing everything in a fiery haze. Arthur looks like an angel of death as the firelight halos his body and dances across his chainmail and bloodsoaked sword that is still plunged into the bleeding chest of a very dead Bowen.

“Arthur.” Merlin calls calmly.

The prince’s head snaps up to him, rage immediately replaced by concern.

“Are you alright?” Arthur pulls his sword out with a squelch before moving to his servant, Merlin does not look down to the listless body.

“I’m fine Arthu-”

Arthur stabs his sword into the ground before bringing his hands up to cup Merlin’s face. “God, I saw him.” Arthur’s voice is laced with anguish. “I saw him touch you, he- he-”

Merlin's eyes go wide in shock, Arthur is never unnerved by battle. “It’s okay, I’m okay Arthur, I promise.” Merlin returns the sentiment and brings his hands to Arthur’s face, he uses his thumbs to try to wipe away the blood but it just smears against the prince’s cheek.

“God I’m so sorry, Merlin.”

His servant’s lip paint is smeared over his lips from where that bastard had laid his mouth. He feels sick.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It wasn’t-”

“Hey!” Gwaine calls as he approaches, Leon in tow. “We have to get out of here before the fire spreads further.”

“Right.” Merlin pulls away, “Lance went this way to look for Percy and Elyan.”

Merlin starts in that direction when Arthur reaches out and grabs his arm. Unfortunately, that is exactly where Bowen had gripped and nearly broken his arm. Merlin hisses at the contact and Arthur immediately lets go.

“You’re hurt.” Arthur seethes.

“It’s fine, really Arthur, we have to get out of here.”

Gwaine and Leon wait for them a few paces ahead.

Arthur takes a deep breath before grabbing his sword in one hand and Merlin’s hand in the other.

“Let’s find the others.” Arthur demands as he pulls Merlin along with him.

It doesn’t take long to find them, they were headed their way after Lance found them and had steered them in the right direction.

They manage to leave the encampment avoiding the growing inferno. The glow fades as they make their way back to their own camp. Merlin casts another wordless spell to keep the fire from spreading too far, he is careful no one is looking at him when he does so.

The march back is quiet and led by a fuming Arthur who refuses to let go of his servant’s hand. The knights don’t dare speak up. Merlin focuses mostly on not tripping on the dress.

When they finally reach their camp they are all beyond relieved none of the fleeing Saxons came across it. That has nothing to do with Merlin’s magic at all…

Arthur doesn’t stop at their camp though he marches past dragging a confused Merlin with him.

“Arthur? We're already at camp.”

“Yes Merlin, I'm not dumb.” Arthur spits but doesn’t stop walking, he scoops up Merlin’s bag as he passes it. “Gwaine you’re with me.”

“Right behind ya princess.”

It’s only a couple of minutes of walking until they come across their destination. A small unassuming river.

“Gwaine you’re on watch.” Arthur demands as he tosses his sword down.

“Aye Aye captain.” Gwaine turns around to face the direction they just came from.

“Arthur it’s freezing out! Can’t you wait until morn-”

But before Merlin is able to finish he finds himself being dragged into the icy water.

“Arthur! What the hell?!” Merlin thrashes as he tries to find his footing, for a small river it’s rather deep; plus the dress floats up around him, leaving his legs and small clothes fully exposed under the water.

Arthur strips off his chainmail and tosses it onto the bank after he’s gotten it more than half soaked already. The blood trickles off it into the sandy dirt below.

“Arthur! I asked you a damn question!”

“We need to get clean.” Arthur rumbles as he approaches the servant.

“Clean?! It’s freezing in here! We’ll catch our deaths like this!”

“Merlin, do not argue with me right now.” Arthur spins his servant around and fumbles with the ribbons. He curses himself for tying them in a knot earlier.

Still fueled on adrenaline and anger Arthur manages to rip one of the ribbons allowing him to slide the laces out.

“Arthur!” Merlin angrily reprimands, turning back around to face the prince. But the servant suddenly can't see his master due to the wet fabric being dragged over his head. Once fully over his face, Arthur tosses the dumb thing by his chainmail.

“Arthur what-” Before he can finish Arthur is diving under the water and grabbing a handful of sand.

The prince resurfaces and shakes the water out of his hair, reminiscent of a dog.

“Arthur, I swear to the gods I will drown you right now if you keep ignoring me.”

The prince starts adamantly scrubbing the coarse sand against Merlin’s waist. “I’m cleaning you.”

“Arthur.” Merlin growls.

Arthur huffs an angry breath as he glares at his idiot servant. He drops the sand and rubs it off his hand, instead scooping a handful of water and rubbing it against Merlin’s mouth but some of it goes up his nose and he starts coughing.

“Arthur!”

“I'm cleaning that bastard’s filth off of you!” Arthur thunders.

Merlin’s coughing dies down as shock rocks his system.

“Now open your damn mouth... Please.” The prince's voice cracks on the last word.

Even if he hadn’t asked, Merlin's mouth would have fallen open due to Arthur saying ‘please’.

Arthur takes that opportunity to pour his handful of water into his servant’s mouth. “Swish it around, don't swallow it.”

Merlin obeys simply because his mind isn’t capable of anything on its own at the current moment.

“Again.” Arthur demands and they go through the process two more times.

“Good.” Arthur praises before bringing his own mouth to Merlin’s. They’re both wet and cold but the lightning that shoots through their bodies warms them up from the inside out.

“A-Arthur.” Merlin pants as they break apart for air. The loss of contact has him shivering from the cold.

“Merlin,” the prince’s expression is pained. “Just, we’ll talk about it. Not tonight. I can’t.”

There’s a pause as they stare at each other, so many emotions laid bare yet not said out loud. They’re never said out loud, not between them, not between Merlin and Arthur, servant and master, sorcerer and prince.

“Alright.” Merlin whispers as his eyes search Arthur’s. They stand there in the freezing water for another moment before Merlin clears his throat. “Can we get out of here? I think I’m starting to actually freeze to death.”

“Right. Of course.” Arthur goes to move away but before he gets too far he grabs Merlin's hand again. “Come on,”

Using the towel in Merlin’s bag the prince insists Merlin dries off first. Then as his servant changes back into his regular and dry clothes Arthur uses the damp towel to dry himself off after stripping down to just his trousers.

“Gwaine.” Arthur calls to the knight.

“Yes sire?”

“Make sure you wash up, I’ll send the others over. You need to wash off the smoke.”

“Sure thing princess,” Gwaine says not unkindly.

“Oh and bring back my armor when you’re done too.” Arthur adds as he bends down to pick up his sword and Merlin’s bag.

“Fine.” Gwaine waves him off as he starts to strip out of his own armor.

“Let’s go.” Arthur tugs Merlin along again by his hand.

Feeling brave thanks to the surge of energy from the cold water Merlin intertwines their fingers. Arthur doesn’t say anything but he give their hands a squeeze as they continue back to their camp.

The fire is blazing when they return and the knights make no indication that they’ve noticed the two holding hands, even though it’s impossible not to notice. Arthur dismisses them all to go wash with Gwaine and they listen easily enough, even with the cold temperature, and Arthur is grateful for their compliance.

Arthur putters about the camp after demanding Merlin to sit on his bedroll, next to Arthur’s as always. After dressing himself in dry clothes Arthur digs out a salve for bruises from Merlin’s pack.

The prince tends to Merlin’s injuries being as gentle as possible and Merlin can’t quell the butterflies in his stomach. They sit there in silence, the crackling of the fire and the faint splashing of the knights are the only sounds between them.

Thankfully the fire is quickly warming them back up. Merlin’s damp hair slowly starts to dry. “Arthur,” Merlin says quietly but the prince doesn’t acknowledge him, too focused on the bruise forming on his best friend’s forearm. “Arthur,” Merlin tries again, this time lifting his other hand to Arthur’s cheek, gently lifting his face to look at him.

“It’s not your fault. You can’t control or predict the actions of others.”

He can’t be sure if Arthur has tears in his eyes or if it’s a trick of the firelight. “I’m sorry, I just-”

There’s a pause but Merlin knows that look, the ‘you’re my friend and I couldn’t bear to lose you’ look.

“I know.” Merlin gives him a sad smile.

Arthur nods his head and goes back to work.

Only a few moments pass before Merlin starts nodding off and Arthur can’t find it in himself to shove his fondness down this time. “Hey,”

“Hmm?” Merlin hums without opening his eyes.

“Go to sleep.” Arthur runs his hand not moist with salve through Merlin’s now dry hair.

“M’kay.” Merlin leans down and is asleep before even getting under his blanket. Using so much magic in one day, especially directing that much fire at once, has taken its toll on the warlock.

Arthur smiles and shakes his head fondly. He wipes his hand off before setting up to take the first watch, right beside Merlin.

It isn’t long until the knights come back, courteous enough to approach quietly, though Arthur doubts a stampede would wake Merlin up right now.

Gwaine drops off the prince’s armor beside him but Arthur sets it closer to the fire so it can dry before he puts it back on.

They all get ready for bed, understanding Arthur wanting to take first watch.

It isn’t until they are all nearly in their bedrolls that Arthur speaks up. “I’m sorry.” The knights look up at him. “I’m sorry, back there I was too-”

“It’s alright.” Eylan cuts him off, “We understand.”

It’s Lancelot who speaks up next. “We’d do the same if someone we… care for deeply, were put into a situation like that.”

They don't have their usual teasing looks about them. Instead, their faces are all… sad. God they all know. They know he loves Merlin, and that a prince could never be with a servant, let alone a male one.

“Right.” Arthur clears his throat. “Well, I’ll take first watch.”

The others hum their acknowledgment as they settle in for the night.

Arthur stays up through the second watch, allowing Merlin to rest through the night. He stares up at the stars contemplating if there’s a way to change destinies, to change fate.

Merlin’s final rating: 5

Force Feeding
The act of forcing one to eat.
This can be done with food
or played out using oral sex.

Merlin’s original rating: 8 (based off previous experience)

They’ve all just stopped for lunch on the second day of their travels back to the citadel. They’re making great time, and now that the somber mood of the raid has faded a bit, the knights are in rather high spirits at the prospect of returning home and celebrating a successful siege.

Merlin shuffles between the knights, handing out apples and pieces of bread to each of them as they stretch their legs from riding. Arthur takes his food with a silent nod of his head. They haven't talked about it, not that either of them particularly wanted to with the knights around anyway.

While Arthur is rather okay not discussing it, Merlin wants to make sure the prince knows it wasn’t his fault the Saxon leader forced a kiss on him. It’s not like he could have known, and Merlin agreed knowing full well what might happen, knowing that their leader could have gone a lot further. And while yes having a kiss forced upon him like that was indeed horrible and slimy and beyond unpleasant, Merlin’s used to nobles taking liberties with him as a servant. Not that any of them went beyond groping, not for lack of trying, but Merlin was always able to escape their incursions. But the feeling isn’t something new to him, not that Arthur needs to know that, but Merlin would do just about anything to keep the prince safe.

The knights talk between themselves as Merlin hurries around to tend the horses, they’ve been working hard and deserve some apples too.

The servant peeks over and sees that Leon, Percival, and Gwaine have started talking to Arthur, the prince’s shoulders relax a bit and an amused look takes over his face from whatever the two knights must be saying to him. Seeing Arthur finally not sulking Merlin feels like he can breathe a sigh of relief.

As his chest expands he feels the reassuring weight of his collar under his neckerchief. Arthur had covertly slid it into his hand the morning after the raid before telling Merlin to make sure they didn’t forget to pack anything, giving the servant ample time to put it back on while not being in the knight’s line of sight.

The pressure on his neck gives him something to focus on, a reminder that he is Arthur’s in whatever way the prince will have him, even if some Saxon leader shoved his tongue down his throat. Merlin shakes his head, moving his focus back to the task at hand.

Once the mares have had their treats Merlin starts brushing them down, removing the accumulating dust from their bodies. It’s as he’s finishing up Elyan’s horse that Arthur calls out to him.

“Catch.” Arthur calls out no other warning before tossing his waterskin at Merlin.

Merlin drops the brush and reaches up to catch the skin but it flies over his head and the horse beside him. The servant gives Arthur an unamused glare.

“You know,” Arthur feigns thoughtfulness, “I think my dog can fetch better than you.”

“Possibly because you treat him better.” Merlin replies sardonically before going to retrieve the water skin. Though he smiles once he turns around, glad to see Arthur being his prattish self.

The knights chuckle at Merlin’s response. Arthur doesn’t though, too occupied thinking over the intriguing idea that just gave him.

The sun is nearly set as they find a place to camp for the night. It doesn’t feel like they’d been riding that long but the days are starting to grow noticeably shorter.

Merlin is quick to start the fire and get working on dinner. They’re starting to run low on provisions but they should hopefully arrive back to the citadel tomorrow.

The knights are eagerly discussing the harvest banquet that is laggardly approaching. It’s one of Merlin’s favorite holidays, there’s something so comforting about this time of year. The warmth of the hearths, the brisk chill of the wind, the constant smell of apples and spices that waft through the citadel from the kitchens, the slow shift of green to oranges and reds in the forest.

It’s a time back home when they would have ample food, right after the harvest. His mum would always make the best apple bread and they would be spoiled with extra vegetables for their stew, a reward for their labor harvesting the goods. Then the village would always gather for a celebration once the harvest was complete, there would be a large bonfire keeping the chill of the night away, honeyed mead would be passed around as Griffith would play lively songs on his viol that they’d all dance to.

In Camelot it really isn’t all that different. Everyone in the town celebrates the harvest season, even if they don’t actively harvest anything themselves. There’s always plenty of food to go around, even among the servants, along with ale and wine and the sweets that would be left over after the nobles had their fill; though you’d have to be quick to get one before they’re all snatched up. He and Gwen always worked together to snag some sugared pears.

Even the knights and guards were usually in higher spirits, no longer having to train or sit out in the blazing sun all day. Nor is it miserably snowy and freezing. The cold season always brings sickness, snow, and ground too frosted to yield anything. Harvest season is the perfect in-between of sweltering and icy. It just feels like the world comes together a bit more during autumn, it’s like a warm comforting blanket before the bitter air of the cold season settles in.

Merlin is brought out of his musings by a particularly loud pop from the fire. He gives their stew another stir before deeming it ready. The knights are laughing at something Gwaine has just said when Merlin reaches beside him to grab the stack of bowls, however his forearm bumps into the log he is sat on. He hisses in pain, dropping the bowls in front of him. He hit the worst spot of the bruise Bowen had left on him.

“Merlin?” Elyan asks from diagonally across the fire. “You alright mate?”

The question catches the others attention.

“Yeah, sorry ‘m fine.” Merlin mumbles picking up the bowls again before he starts filling them. He can’t help the wince as he fills each bowl, the stew adding more weight than is comfortable to hold on his injured arm.

Thankfully it seems no one notices as Merlin passes out a bowl to each of the knights. And if Merlin purposely avoids Arthur’s scrutinizing gaze, well hopefully the prince doesn’t notice. (He does).

Once the knights are all served Merlin goes to fill his bowl and sits down next to Arthur, as it seems this is his new designated spot as of recent. He can feel the prince’s eyes on him but he ignores it, instead focusing on his stew.

As always the knights eagerly scarf down their fare. Arthur per usual eats slower, royal customs and practices ingrained so deeply in him that he doesn’t even notice anymore.

As the knights break off into small conversations of their own, Merlin finishes his portion, he moves to get up but a hand on his knee stops him.

“Here.” Arthur holds out his own bowl, half full, to the servant.

Merlin furrows his brow. “If you tell me it wasn’t up to your standards, I made it how I usually do. Granted I had a little less to work with than normal but-”

“No, it was fine.” Arthur interrupts before his servant can go on a tirade. “But you need to eat more.”

Merlin tilts his head. “I already ate.”

“That measly portion you gave yourself is not eating.”

Merlin narrows his eyes, he hadn’t expected the prince to notice such a thing, but it’s more important that the others get their fill. “I’m fine Arthur, really. Now finish so I can wash the bowls.”

Arthur scoffs, “And who put you in charge? Last I checked you were the servant, and I was the prince.”

“Ah you haven't heard? While we’ve been away the servants have overtaken the citadel and have deigned me their new king.” Merlin replies, snarkily grinning.

“Merlin.” Arthur narrows his eyes in a challenge. “Watch your treasonous tongue.”

“See it would be treason if I weren’t the new king.”

Arthur fights down a smile. “Merlin.”

“Oh just hurry and finish eating before it goes cold you prat.”

“You will eat the rest. Don’t think I didn’t notice how you didn’t eat anything when we stopped earlier.”

Merlin feels heat rise in his cheeks, yet another thing he wouldn’t expect Arthur to pick up on. And okay, yes he hadn’t eaten earlier, to be fair he was busy with his duties but it certainly isn’t the first time he’s skipped a mid-day meal in lieu of chores. “Well some of us don’t need to keep up our wide waists.”

“Merlin.” Arthur warns, his patience starting to slip.

“What? I’m serious! Some of us don’t have to eat until we’re full.”

Arthur pauses, caught off guard. “What?”

“What?” Merlin blinks at him.

“What do you mean you don’t eat until you’re full?”

“Well, I just eat so I’m not hungry anymore.”

Merlin is slightly concerned at the bewildered look Arthur is giving him.

“You don’t eat until you’re full?”

“Why would I? It seems like a waste.” Merlin shrugs. “Now will you please just-”

“Christ, no wonder you’re so slim.” Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose with the hand not holding his stew.

“I’m not slim, you’re just not as fit as-”

“Merlin. First of all, do not finish that sentence. Second of all, with all the work you do day to day you should be eating until you’re full.”

“Arthur I am not arguing about this, just finish-”

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice comes out low and dangerous.

Merlin glances to the others but they are all too invested in their own conversations to pay him any mind.

“Arthur, you need your energy, I’ll be fine.” Merlin back talks.

“Merlin.” Arthur firmly brings his hand to the nape of Merlin’s neck while leaning closer. His breath ghosts against the cuff of Merlin’s ear, “You will eat this or I will force it down your gullet in front of my knights.”

Merlin glares at the prince. He is the one who needs to keep up his energy, Merlin is used to going periods with eating very little, unlike the pompous prat. Knowing Arthur and his delicate sensibilities he’d end up passing out from simply skipping one meal and the last thing Merlin wants is to lug the prince the rest of the way back to the city.

“No.” Merlin raises his chin defiantly, in the way that always has Arthur itching to discipline him.

“I warned you.” Arthur rumbles, placing the half full bowl on his own lap.

And before Merlin can reply he is getting a spoon thrust into his mouth as the hand on the back of his neck holds him in place.

The servant flails as the stew is forced past his lips, he frantically looks to the others but those that look over just seem amused yet unsurprised, as if this is an everyday occurrence, before going back to their own conversations.

Arthur removes the spoon and Merlin starts coughing as the stew unceremoniously makes its way down his esophagus.

Merlin flails a bit more but Arthur vigorously shovels more stew into his mouth. “See what happens when you don’t listen?” Arthur’s voice is husky.

An angry puff of air is exhaled through Merlin’s nose, the heated air cascades across Arthur’s hand.

The prince’s other hand tightens further on the back of Merlin's neck. “Do not think I will not punish you just because we have an audience.”

Arthur pushes the spoon further past Merlin’s lips and the servant releases an almost inaudible whimper between them. Arthur’s gaze ardently darkens.

A shiver runs down Merlin’s spine and his eyes flash pink.

It’s then a distraught shambling and the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn breaks them apart.

Lancelot quickly closes in on the two, heart pounding in his ears. This is it, this is the moment where the prince finds out. This is the moment the knight betrays the crown for his closest friend. There is no way Arthur had missed the way the warlock’s eyes flashed sitting that close together. Lancelot truly doesn’t know what to expect, how the prince will react, but gods forbid it’s violently, he won’t give Arthur the chance to hurt Merlin.

Merlin watches in horror as Lancelot closes in on him and Arthur. It’s then the servant simultaneously realizes multiple things. Firstly, when explaining the curse to the knights, neither he nor Arthur explained that Merlin’s eyes would flash pink. To be fair he wanted to go into as little detail as possible and that hadn’t seemed like a prominent thing to mention until this very moment. Secondly, Merlin knows Lancelot is incredibly loyal and he can now see, by the knight's stern expression, that the man’s loyalties lay further with Merlin than the prince. Thirdly, Lancelot is clearly on a crusade towards Arthur, and not only may he actually threaten Arthur with a blade, a genuine form of treason,but he may also inadvertently expose Merlin’s magic to a still blissfully ignorant Arthur.

Before Merlin can think any further he theatrically stands up, his empty bowl falling from his lap onto the ground rolling dangerously close to the fire. He brings his arms out to the side as if expecting a sudden attack, “What are the rest of you doing?!” Merlin questions with a false panic. “Didn’t you hear that?!”

Lancelot stops only a few steps away from Merlin, brow furrowed. But thankfully Merlin’s words have spurred the others into action, all standing and drawing their swords.

“Over there!” Merlin points to the tree line to his left. “Footsteps, I heard it too.”

Lancelot shoots Merlin a cautious look but concedes, “Yes, right.” The knight clears his throat. “Couldn’t have been too far off.”

“Could be some of the Saxons that escaped into the woods.” Arthur states. “On me.” He calls getting into a semi-crouching position as he approaches the trees. “Merlin, you are to stay put.” His tone is authoritative and princely. “Lancelot, you stay with him and guard the camp.”

“Yes, sire.” Lancelot takes up post as the other men tactfully start making their way into the surrounding woods.

Merlin and Lancelot stand there for a few moments, making sure their comrades are far enough away.

“Merlin?” The knight asks tentatively.

The servant looks over to him, his expression is a strange mix between deadpan and amused. “It’s alright.”

Lancelot’s brows shoot up, “He knows?”

“Oh gods no!” Merlin’s eyes go wide.

“Then what on earth was that?”

Merlin sighs before explaining the curse he was hit with, in detail this time. He knows he can trust Lancelot.

By the time he is done they’re both blushing red.

“And,” Merlin adds on after, tone taking on a seriousness Lancelot rarely hears. “If something does happen, if Arthur ever does find out. Please. Do not step in. As much as I appreciate it, I will not have you condemned for a crime you have no part in.”

Lancelot opens his mouth to reply when they hear the rustling of leaves, surely the others returning. He closes his mouth before opening it again, giving Merlin a look that the warlock can’t quite discern, “Alright.”

It’s then the rest of their group trudge back into the clearing. Arthur grumbles that it might have just been a large stag the two heard but that they’ll take watch in pairs tonight just in case.

During their watch Merlin tries to talk about the siege with the prince but Arthur waves him off with worries of waking the knights. Though Merlin isn’t sure if that’s truly the reason for not wanting to discuss what happened. They spend the rest of their watch in amicable silence.

Merlin’s final rating: 8

Pet Play
The act of treating someone
as you would a human pet. Typically
using them for your pleasure while
not allowing them the respect one
would typically give a partner. This
can also include: petting, training,
collars/leashes, and even forcing your
‘pet’ to eat from a dish on the ground.

Merlin’s initial rating: 3

“Arthur!” Uther exclaims as the prince enters the throne room, servant in tow.

“Father.” Arthur bows his head as he approaches, his boots click against the polished floor, Merlin bows at his waist.

“I hadn’t heard you had gotten back.” Uther hands the parchment he had been looking over to a servant.

“We only just arrived.”

“Excellent. I’m sure you bring only good news.” The king voices in his usual acrid tone.

“Yes father. The siege went well. I managed to take out their leader and we burned down their encampment. Whatever stragglers have survived will surely spread word of their loss.”

“Very good.” Uther nods. The king’s gaze flicks to Merlin and the raven nearly winces at the unexpected attention, Uther is never one to pay mind to any of the servants. Merlin can’t help the way his pulse increases ever so slightly.

“Since you and your knights left there has been an increase of bandit attacks to the west. I believe them to have gotten word of your leave and attempted to use your absence as an opportunity of sorts. I expect you to take a patrol to put an end to any loutish bouts of unwarranted confidence.”

“Of course father.” Arthur agrees with a bow of his head. “Will there be anything else?”

“Yes.”

Arthur keeps his face impassive as he waits for his king to continue.

Uther waits a particularly long time before speaking up, it’s an act of intimidation that Arthur has long learned to deal with. Merlin on the other hand, does his best not to squirm at the lengthy silence.

“Just after you left. There were some rumors floating about.”

“Rumors, father?” Arthur asks, genuinely confused.

“Yes. Supposedly there are whisperings among the servants that you’ve started to… favor your manservant.”

Arthur’s heart sinks to his stomach, it takes every ounce of his being not to step in front of Merlin, to block him from his father’s view. But he knows better, he can’t give reason for the king to actually believe such rumors… even if they aren’t exactly rumors, though the servants certainly don't know that.

Arthur scoffs, “And do you know on what grounds someone would make such outlandish claims?”

“It seems some believe you to have prepared the boy's horse for him before you left.”

Merlin mentally starts strangling the prince. He had told Arthur not to help. Of course something like this was going to happen. Oh gods Merlin is so dead.

“Ah. A misunderstanding then. I found Merlin’s work to be unsatisfactory that day and felt the only way he could see work to my liking was for me to show him personally.”

“So you deny the claims?”

“Of course.”

“You are not fond of the boy?”

Arthur pauses for a moment, thinking over his words briefly before answering. “Well, I suppose as he is my manservant I am closer to him than I am with other servants. But I am not fond in the way originally suggested. I see Merlin more… as a pet. A very loyal dog if you would.” Arthur is thankfully able to keep the amusement out of his tone with the last two sentences, hopefully the irony will not be lost on Merlin later. Though even without looking at him he can feel Merlin's mood shift to annoyance.

“Right.” Uther drawls, used to his son and manservnat’s bizarre relationship. He supposes he could see someone misunderstanding the two. The boy is fond of Arthur and helped save him before, it’s why he gave the boy the position in the first place. He had even told Merlin to take care of Arthur before, perhaps someone just misunderstood the servant’s fidelity. Uther would be ignorant to ignore such a thing.

“I ask then,” Uther continues, narrowing his eyes slightly. “If the boy's work is not up to your standards why don’t you just dismiss him?” He trusts Arthur knows better, he has to be certain though, he won’t have the prince .

Arthur pauses just a moment too long and he’s aware of it as he answers. “Well, Merlin does do quite a few things to my liking, it would be a nuisance to have someone starting from scratch.” The prince does his best to keep his breaths steady.

“Very well.” Uther waves his hand dismissively. “I expect you to ride out on that patrol when you have recovered from your recent siege.”

“Yes father.” Arthur nods. The prince turns on his heel and makes sure not to even glance at Merlin lest his father notice.

Merlin follows the prince dutifully, head bowed in proper severance until they are well away from the throne room. It isn’t until they’ve ascended the stairs to the royal corridor that Merlin breaks the tense silence between them.

“We only just got back and must prepare for a scouting patrol? Rather unreasonable if you ask me.”

“You’d rather have the bandits attacking defenseless travelers? Or outlying villages?” Arthur looks over his shoulder.

“No, of course not. But the knights need their rest, they expend a lot of energy during battles.”

“Which is exactly why my father said after we have recovered.”

They arrive to Arthur’s door, Merlin moves to open it for the prince. “Yes and according to Uther that’s, what, one day?”

“Merlin.” Arthur walks past his bed before holding his arms out to the side.

“I know I know, treason, you’ll put me in the stocks.” Merlin haughtily rolls his eyes as he walks over to the prince, he starts undoing his armor.

“Look at that, you are capable of learning! Only took you a couple years.”

“Prat.” Merlin grumbles just loud enough for Arthur to hear.

Arthur lightly cuffs him on the head.

Once Arthur is divested of his armor Merlin goes about setting up a bath in his chambers. “Is there anything else you require sire?”

“Have somewhere to be, do you?” Arthur asks as he lifts his gambeson over his head, the muscles in his shoulders flexing while he does so.

Gods that should not be as attractive as it is. Merlin clears his throat. “I’m sure Gaius will need some more herbs with my absence the past days.”

“Very well.” Arthur waves him off. “I expect you back here with my dinner though.” The prince starts unlacing his breeches, eyes not leaving his servant.

Merlin swallows. “Right, of course.” Thankfully he’s able to tear his eyes away and make a hasty escape.

Arthur huffs an amused breath, the turnip hadn’t even realized he was supposed to be the one undressing him. The prince doesn’t fight his smile as he settles into the warm water.

Merlin huffs as he fills the small wash basin he has once again hefted into his room. Gaius had indeed needed a resupply of herbs. In all honesty, it’s one of Merlin’s favorite chores to do for the physician, being able to meander about the forest freely while gathering plants that will be used to help the people of Camelot, it’s both relaxing and fulfilling. More often than not though Merlin gets quite begrimed, thus his opting for a wash.

Once fully undressed, clothes messily strewn about the floor, collar delicately laid out across his bed, he steps into the water. With the use of a well practiced spell, the water is the perfect temperature. He takes a deep breath enjoying the steam that tickles its way up his body.

His mind starts to wander as he cleans off. He can’t help but think back to what Uther had said this morning. If Arthur tries anything like that again Merlin will have to make sure to put a stop to his facetious antics. And while Merlin knows why Arthur said what he did, as is glad he did so, it still stings a bit. Obviously, Arthur did the right thing, but the prince saying he isn’t fond of Merlin… well he knows Arthur isn’t fond of him, not in the way he is fond of the prince anyway, but hearing him say it so easily aches a bit more than he would have expected.

It’s all Arthur’s fault for doing borderline kind things for him lately. It’s getting his heart all confused. I mean really, helping with horses is one thing, but the caresses? The affectionate words? The outwardly care for his well being? How is he supposed to keep his heart in check?! He scrubs a bit harder at his arm.

He knew this was going to happen, it’s why he hadn’t wanted to go to the prince for help with the spell in the first place. But then the prat had insisted and, well, Merlin’s only so strong-willed.

That trail of thought brings him to Arthur stripping to get into his bath before Merlin had left his chambers. The way his muscles flexed as he removed his clothing. The trail of hair from the prince’s naval that disappears below his trousers, the mix of amusement and hopefulness in his gaze. Merlin’s breath picks up, gods he wants to touch himself. He and Arthur hadn’t been able to do anything since before the siege, he’s been so needy for the prince yet unable to do anything about it without the knights knowing exactly why they were sneaking off. He could just reach down and no. He’ll wait until he’s with Arthur. But he’s so… so wanting. He tries to will away his arousal but nothing is working. He is then hit with a brilliant idea, instead of wanking, perhaps he could open himself up, it’ll feel good and save time later.

He squeezes his eyes as he pours water over his hair, washing the sudsy lather away.

Arthur doesn’t look up from his desk as the door gracelessly crashes open. “I thought I told you to be back for my dinner.”

“I am! I have it right here.” Merlin sets the tray down noisily against the table.

Arthur sighs leaning back in his chair, he turns his head to where Merlin is filling his goblet with wine. “And you should have been here twenty minutes ago.”

“Yes well, I figured I should wash before I came back.” A small blush paints Merlin’s cheeks.

The image that gives Arthur is enough to spur him up from his desk and over to the table, the sooner he eats the sooner he can have what he is truly craving. It’s been days since they’ve truly been able to do anything and Arthur is just about ready to jump Merlin.

“Very well,” Arthur says as he sits down and starts eating. He watches as Merlin goes about restocking the hearth.

“So,” Merlin stands up brushing his trousers off, “what’s the plan for tonight?” He hopes he doesn’t sound as eager as he does in his head. But gods if they don’t do something soon he’s afraid his magic will truly start rebelling.

Arthur’s brows shoot up in surprise at his forwardness but he can’t fault the boy, he’s quite antsy as well. His surprise quickly turns into a mix of conniving and poorly hidden amusement that has Merlin both eager and curious.

“Well,” Arthur starts off smugly, “do you remember the other day, how you claimed I treat my dog better than you?”

“Yes.” Merlin answers warily from where he stands next to the warmth of the hearth.

The prince’s tone is jovial as he responds, “Well I couldn’t help but think, you are completely right.”

Merlin narrows his eyes in suspicion. Not only would Arthur never admit such a thing, he only ever uses such a tone when intentionally annoying Merlin.

Arthur waits for Merlin’s reply but when his servant doesn’t say anything he can’t help but chuckle at the suspecting look on his face.

“Well then, come here.” Arthur gestures his head, beckoning his servant over to the table.

Merlin totters over, his hands fiddling with the ends of his sleeves.

“Neckerchief, off.”

Merlin complies, taking the blue fabric off before folding it neatly and placing it on the table. Arthur is pleased to see he is indeed wearing his collar.

Arthur takes a sip of wine as he admires his claim on the boy. “Jacket.” He commands after a moment.

Merlin slinks off the jacket before hanging it on the back of the chair.

Arthur presses his napkin to his mouth wiping any residue that may be left from the wine. “Sit.”

Merlin starts pulling out a chair when Arthur stops it with his booted foot. “Ah, ah” the prince chides, “I would never let my dog on a chair.” He can’t keep the amusement out of his tone.

Merlin stares at him incredulously as understanding washes over him. “Arthur you can’t be serio-”

“Last I checked, pets don’t talk back.” His voice hardens.

As much as Merlin wants to argue, he wants to be fucked even more. He takes a calming breath before sinking to the ground, sitting on his haunches next to Arthur’s chair.

Merlin had played ‘animals’ with the other village children when he was younger, as children tend to do. The other children would always want him to be a bird because of his name, though he preferred to be larger creatures like a deer or a horse he even pretended to be… a dragon… oh. He had never thought about that. But he supposes this has the same kind of rules given what Arthur has already said.

“Good boy.” Arthur seductively praises as he runs a hand over Merlin’s hair.

Okay, perhaps not the same rules.

The acknowledgment has the already restless arousal in his stomach ignite with sparks that stir through his abdomen and flare out down his limbs.

Merlin is filled with a feeling similar to when Arthur had first punished him with the lashing from his hand, it's an amalgamation of shame and unfettered desire. Much to Merlin’s aggravation, Arthur simply turns back to his dinner, though his lips quiver with a hidden smile, instigating Merlin’s impudence.

Merlin waits in the rather humiliating position but Arthur pays him no more mind. He contemplates tying the prat’s bootlaces together but decides against it, not wanting to have to wait any longer than this is already seemingly going to take. Fine, Arthur want to play that way? So be it.

Merlin relaxes his legs so he rests on his feet rather than his haunches. Arthur still doesn't pay him any attention. He scoots a little closer before resting his cheek against Arthur’s thigh. He can feel the muscle tense under him.

Arthur glances down to Merlin who looks up through his lashes at him. The want shining in his eyes does things to Arthur, he has to stop himself from hauling Merlin onto the table and stuffing him full with his cock right there. No, they have to do this the right way, mark a kink off the list.

“You know,” Arthur feigns a conversational tone, “while you have the loyalty of a dog, you manage to have the asinine obstinance of a cat.” Merlin smiles mischievously at the prince, Arthur adds on, “And the virility of a rabbit.”

Merlin can’t help but snort at that. “Oh please like you’re any better.” Merlin’s eyes drift to the bulge forming in Arthur’s trousers.

The prince brings a hand down to hold Merlin’s chin, “Behave.” His voice is low and husky with warning.

“Yes master.” Merlin smirks, Arthur’s cock gives a very interested twitch.

He forces his attention back to his dinner. In all honesty though he is done eating, he pushes around what's left on his plate solely to make Merlin wait. It’s not long until Merlin starts rubbing and nuzzling against his thigh. The servant hungrily watches as the bulge in Arthur’s trousers starts to grow. Arthur brings his leg closest to Merlin around to the side of the chair nestling the lower part of his leg right in between his pet’s thighs.

The pressure against his groin has Merlin gasping as he resists the urge to rub against it. He is able to fight against desire until Arthur starts moving his leg up and down teasingly against Merlin’s erection.

His breath stutters as the flames of arousal lick through his core, he can't help but push into Arthur’s limb, adding much needed friction against his needy prick. After a few thrusts, he brings his hands around the prince’s calf allowing himself to press further against the prince’s leg, enhancing the pitiful relief he is able to find. Merlin pushes as close as possible, his chest pressed firmly against the appendage, he doesn't doubt the prince could feel his heart racing. All the while he keeps nuzzling needily against Arthur’s thigh.

Completely foregoing his dinner now, he watches with lidded eyes as Merlin ruts wantonly against his leg, the hardness of his pet's cock dragging up and down against his trousers. He doubts the servant even realizes he’s sitting on Arthur’s foot. He experimentally tilts his boot up, heel never leaving the ground. His servant’s eyes flutter at the new pressure against his bollocks and arse. He keeps capriciously grinding his hips making small salacious sounds, each pushing Arthur’s restraint further and further.

“Nngh Arthur,” Merlin whines breathily.

“Merlin.” Arthur strains, “Good pets do not beg at the table.” He can feel his own pulse picking up, the heat from Merlin’s body radiating through his trouser leg. “Though I suppose it’s not food you’re begging for hmm?” He pets Merlin’s hair watching as his pet shamelessly seeks his own pleasure.

“No, I’ll- mmph take something else in- ah in my mouth though.” He nuzzles a bit further up Arthur’s thigh.

“Cheeky brat.” Arthur grabs the younger’s hair though not harshly. Merlin pushes into the touch.

“Stay.” Arthur instructs as he pries his leg from Merlin’s grabby hold and lifts himself out of his chair.

A broken whimper escapes past Merlin’s pouty lips as Arthur walks over to his bedside drawer. The prince takes a moment fishing out what he is looking for. It’s when he turns back around Merlin can see what is in his hands. He is unsurprised to see a vial of oil, however the long black strip of leather with a gold hook, that perfectly matches his collar, he had not expected.

With each step Arthur takes, each click of his boots on the stone, Merlin’s nerves pulse with effusive excitement.

The prince crouches in front of his pet, his eyes are dark as they trace his features, Merlin doesn’t miss the way they linger on his lips before falling to his collar. “So pretty,” he murmurs before looping the hook through the small ring where his pendant hangs from.

Merlin preens proudly at the compliment and Arthur’s lips tick up. The prince ruffles Merlin’s hair before standing back up.

“Come.” Arthur tugs on the end of the leash on his hand, it pulls against Merlin’s neck.

The servant sits there for a moment not sure what to do. Does Arthur expect him to crawl over? Or is he allowed to walk over? He supposes he could crawl but the cobblestone is harsh enough on his knees when he's not moving so-

“On your feet.” Arthur speaks up, clarifying the confusion on the raven’s face.

Merlin wobbles to his feet and is then immediately pulled forward by the leash. Though Merlin is confused when they don’t head for the bed, instead his master leads him to the rug in front of the hearth.

“Hands and knees.” The prince’s voice leaves no room for argument.

Merlin crouches down before landing on all fours. Merlin hadn’t been sure about this at first but honestly, it’s quite… fun. He had never thought he’d be having fun while resolving this spell.

Arthur stands there eyes roaming over Merlin as he looms above him. Merlin, feeling rather cheeky, jokingly lifts one knee up imitating how a dog takes a piss and Arthur chokes on a laugh. Merlin can’t help but to start laughing too he has to lower his leg back down to keep himself steady.

It isn’t until they’re both done laughing that Arthur lowers himself onto the rug, sitting on his arse legs stretched out in front of him. “Heel,” Arthur tugs the collar and Merlin crawls to two paces needed to sit beside Arthur, though still in front of him enough so they face each other.

Arthur puts his hands around Merlin’s waist, he maneuvers his pet so he is now sat on the prince’s thighs.

Merlin’s face is flush with arousal and laughter, his eyes bright with amusement yet pupils wide with desire, Arthur’s not sure he’s ever seen his servant look so perfect. Arthur removes his hands from the boy's waist before commanding “Arms up.”

Merlin follows easily, eager to get out of his clothes as quickly as possible. Arthur lifts the red shirt over his frame, leading the leash all the way through. Once the leather is fully out of the shirt Arthur wraps the end around the palm of his hand multiple times, making Merlin’s leeway even shorter. Merlin watches raptly, throat bobbing when he swallows.

It’s then the prince notices the bruises that still adorn his servant’s pale skin, a smattering on his forearm and shoulder, leftover from the siege, left by someone else. A spike of fury shoots through him.

“Hand.” Arthur demands harshly, the way one would ask a dog for its paw.

Merlin holds his hand out, Arthur takes it in his own before placing it on his shoulder, they go through the same process with the other hand.

Arthur is quick to move the raven further up his legs until their erections are nearly lined up. Merlin tightens his grip at the unexpected movement. Arthur tightens the leash around his hand once more before giving it a harsh tug until Merlin's face is right in front of his.

“You are mine Merlin, understand? My pet, my servant, mine to do whatever the fuck I want to with. Mine to fuck however I want.”

Before Merlin can even reply Arthur brings their mouths together with another yank of the leash. Merlin moans as their lips meet, just before they fully close their eyes Arthur can see Merlin’s eyes flash pink. The prince smiles into the kiss.

Merlin shifts his hips forward and Arthur groans as their clothed pricks rub against each other. “Eager as ever hmm?”

“Please master.” Merlin’s voice is throaty and full of need and Arthur can’t help but buck his hips up against his pet.

Merlin moans tossing his head back.

“Gonna be a good boy and obey your master?” Arthur eggs on as he laces a hand in Merlin’s hair before tugging.

“Y-yes I’ll be so good, so good for you Arthur please.”

“Mmm good pets take whatever their master gives them, are you gonna take all of my cock? I am gonna fuck you so hard my pet will never forget who he belongs to.” Arthur rumbles against Merlin’s mouth.

“Yes please master I- I want it so bad, want all of your cock please.” Merlin’s breath hitches as he wrangles his magic in, it dances across his skin lighting up all of his nerves just further increasing his already impossible want.

“Fuck,” Arthur groans as he brings his mouth to Merlin’s neck, the prince uses the hand in the boy's hair to tilt his head, giving him better access to suck and nip. “God you taste so good.”

Merlin keens, he can feel a particular eager spurt of precum escape his prick and smear against his smalls.

Merlin gasps at a rather harsh nip. Arthur laves his tongue over the bite before groaning, “Gonna fill you up so good, I’m gonna spill so much in you, been waiting for days to get you alone, you’re going to be dripping with my cum. Fuck gonna breed you like a good boy.”

Merlin lets out a sinful moan and his eyes flash pink for the second time that night. They both pause for a second, surprised at another kink being discovered. Not bothering to think about it at the moment, Arthur continues to lave at his pet’s neck, around his lovely black collar, a stark contrast against his skin.

Merlin moans and fumbles with Arthur’s shirt before he’s able to get it over the prince’s head. After Arthur detaches from Merlin’s neck to allow his shirt to be discarded he slides out from under Merlin. “Hands and knees,” he domineers.

As Merlin gets back on all fours Arthur kicks his boots off as he walks around to the back of his pet, making sure not to walk too far lest the leash pull the boy.

He lowers himself on his knees grabbing at his servant’s arse through his trousers, Merlin pushes back into his hands. The prince groans appreciatively before reaching around to untie the laces of his breeches.

Arthur slides his fingers into his trousers and small pushing the fabric down tantalizingly slow, appreciating the curve of Merlin’s thighs. His servant shifts allowing Arthur to pull his clothing down to his boots which Arthur makes quick work of before tossing them towards the door. Shortly followed by Merlin’s bottoms.

“Gods Arthur please I need it, need you inside please.”

“I’ve got you,” Arthur soothes as he slides his hands up Merlin's inner thighs, the smooth leather of the leash, wrapped around the prince’s palm, drags across his skin. The sensation has goosebumps erupting on Merlin’s legs even with the heat of the hearth so nearby.

Arthur softly bites the swell of Merlin’s arse, his pet makes a wonderful half-moan half-sob sound that goes straight down to his already heavy cock.

Arthur grinds his own hardened cock against Merlin’s thigh. Merlin whines and pushes back into him, he bends forward so his shoulders touch the rug giving Arthur a delectable view, his collar pulls ever so slightly against his neck at the added distance. The firelight of the hearth reflects off the slick wetness that coats Merlin’s hole and he groans as his arousal becomes near overwhelming, the heady feeling sends prickles all through his limbs as his lower abdomen flutters with a guttural satisfaction.

Merlin wiggles his arse and Arthur savagely grabs the globes, the leather wrapped around his palm digging into his pet’s skin. The force of his hands pushes Merlin further into the ground with a small yelp that is quickly muffled by the rug. The prince uses his callused hands to spread his best friend further before rubbing his thumb across his glistening hole.

“Merlin?” Arthur asks as he lightly probes but doesn’t enter Merlin’s hole.

“Nnn wanted to save time.”

“Fucking hell.” Arthur grunts as he pushes his thumb past the ring of muscle, it slips in easily. “Christ Merlin, what am I going to do with you?”

“Fuck me.” Merlin answers the rhetorical question snarkily.

“Mmm, oh I will, such a good pet deserves only the best fucking. And I am more than happy to give it to him.” Arthur moves his hands, trailing them up Merlin's sides and back down; it gives the servant a bit of reprieve from the slight tug of his collar.

Arthur unties his trousers, not bothering to shuffle them past his knees. He oils up the fingers on his hand not holding the leash before immediately sliding two into Merlin’s waiting hole, he is rewarded with an utterly profane moan.

“Ah- yes Arthur mmph.” Merlin pushes his chest off the ground, moving himself further back onto Arthur’s digits. Gods he needs this so bad, he could cum just from Arthur’s fingers at this point.

Arthur shuffles his knees against Merlin's calves getting the boy to open his legs wider. Arthur sees his pet’s cock eagerly dribbling onto the rug beneath him and it only further fuels his hunger.

Arthur eagerly pumps his fingers in and out with obscene squelching noises making sure Merlin is properly ready for him. “God look at you pet, already so open and wet for me, he wants to be bred so badly by his master hmm?”

“Yes gods Arth-master please fuck me please I’m ready I can take it please.” His pleas are starting to sound more like sobs and it’s music to Arthur’s ears.

Arthur extracts his fingers with a filthy wet sound before slicking up his own cock. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to control his libido as he wraps the leather around his hand another time. The sensation gives him a heady feeling of power that he relishes in.

Without warning Arthur slides into Merlin, not slowly but not enough to sting too much either. A moan tears out of Merlin’s throat at the delectable intrusion, the hearth burns just a bit brighter. Arthur groans Merlin’s wet heat swallows him.

Arthur starts off with small movements until Merlin cries out a broken “please,” and the prince can’t hold back anymore.

Arthur starts ramming in and out of his pet, illiciting heavenly cries of pleasure from the boy.

“Fuck Merlin, shit you feel so good. So fucking good on my cock. Right where you belong.” Arthur grunts

“Ah tha-nngh-nk you ma-ah-ster. Feels so oh good fuck.”

“Mmm my good little pet deserves mmph only the best.” Arthur tightens his hand on the leash before pulling it back.

A lewd low moan scratches out of Merlin’s throat as he is forced up onto his knees by the pull of the leash, his back thumping against Arthur’s chest. The rush of adrenaline sends thrilling waves down to his weeping prick that bounces in time to each of the prince’s thrusts, unfettered.

Arthur wraps the leash around his hand a couple more times so it’s just long enough that he can reach to the front of Merlin's chest. He runs his hands hungrily over his pet’s chest, Merlin pushes back into him.

Stars flash behind Merlin’s eyes as Arthur’s cock rubs against that spot inside of him, gods he’s not going to last much longer.

“Ah-Arthur please I’m mmph clo- oh -se.”

“Mmmph fuck, good that’s a good pet.” Arthur groans breathily into his ear as he licks the cuff.

Arthur drags his hands over Merlin’s nipples, the leather of the leash adding further friction before taking them between his digits and rolling the pink nubs.

Merlin feels the coil in his stomach reach its breaking point and he can’t hold on any longer, Arthur’s grunts of pleasure send him over the edge. He whimpers as his cum eagerly shoots out painting the rug in front of him, it comes out in excess after having to wait so long to finally find release. The pleasure crashes over him in pulsing waves that rock him to his core.

“Fuck pet, look at- ngh - look at you, cuming untouched. Fuck so good,” Arthur presses his hands against Merlin’s chest as he unyieldingly pounds into him. “Such a good boy, so good, so pretty, cumming with my cock up your arse.”

Merlin mewls hazily at the words as he comes down from his orgasm.

“Gonna, fuck-” is all Arthur is able to get out as his hot seed spills into Merlin’s clenched hole.

Arthur untangles his hand and grabs at Merlin’s hips, rocking the boy against him with each spurt of cum that leaves Arthur’s cock.

After a moment of kneeling there Arthur drags them both down onto the rug, still inside Merlin, but when they land he slips out. Merlin whines at the feeling as lands facing away from the prince though his arm is underneath him.

Arthur uses his trapped arm to roll Merlin over so his servant can rest his head on his chest. Merlin instinctively tosses an arm and leg across Artrhur’s sprawled body.

“Okay?” Arthur asks, fully worn out.

‘Mmmm’ Merlin hums pleasantly as he nuzzles into the side of Arthur’s neck, he knows he should get cleaned and dressed, he has early duties in the morning but the boneless exhaustion has other plans.

Arthur can’t stop his smile, he peeks over but Merlin’s eyes are closed. The prince is so exhausted and comfortable he can’t find it in himself to move them. He tightens his hold on his Merlin, he places a soft kiss to the crown of his head before sleep overtakes him.

Merlin’s final pet play rating: 8

Merlin’s initial breeding kink rating: N/A (it’s not in the book)
Merlin’s final breeding kink rating: 7.9

Aquaphilia
Having intercourse in
some form of water.
This can range from
lakes and ponds to oceans
and even washtubs.

Merlin's initial rating: 6

Merlin feels as if he weighs an entire ton when his boots hit the cobblestone, the contact reverberates up through his legs all the way up into his skull. Thankfully some of the stableboys have already started unpacking their mares.

The prince looks around at his men, all clearly laden with exhaustion. It had been a rough thirty hours, it seemed Lady Luck was not on their side as they had not only one group of bandits attack them on their patrol but three. THREE times they were attacked by bandits in the past 30 hours! It was a new record for all involved, the attacks weren’t coordinated either, nothing linked them together that they could find, it was just pure bad luck.

The sun was setting and the thought of sleep nearly made Arthur shiver. They had just been preparing their camp the evening before when they were attacked by the second group of bandits, by the time they finished fighting and found somewhere safer the sun was rising once again only for them to be ambushed again not soon after.

A footman trotts down the steps of the citadel towards Arthur but he slows as he catches a glimpse of the state of their group.

The prince is speaking before the footman can even think of bringing up a meeting.

“We are to retire for the night, please inform my father that we have returned safe and that I shall give him report tomorrow.”

“Yes sire.” The man bows deeply before quickly taking off.

Arthur stands unmoving, his muscles and brain unwilling to work as his knights slowly make their way up the citadel steps, surely to get rest themselves.

The idea of rest is able to spur him into action again.

As he takes the first few steps Arthur doesn’t hear the slightly lighter footsteps he’s so used to echoing his own.

He turned around to see Merlin in just as bad of shape as the rest of them, staring off into space unseeing.

“Merlin.” Arthur calls out.

His manservant’s attention shifts over to him, slower than normal. “Coming, sire.”

Merlin shakes his head trying and failing to wake himself up.

As they ascend the steps Arthur hears Merlin lose his footing twice, followed by grumbled curses the prince chose to ignore.

As they enter the citadel they thankfully run into Gwen of all people.

“Guinevere!” Arthur exclaims slightly too loud, causing the maid to nearly drop her basket of linens.

“Arthur!” Gwen exclaims, adjusting her hold on the basket, “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, yes fine, just a long day.”

Merlin snorts behind him. “You could say that again.”

“Could you ask some of the servants to fetch the largest bathing tub and have it filled in my room?”

Merlin groans internally, Arthur requesting the larger tub means he’ll have to wait even longer to dress the prince let alone make his way back to his own chambers to sleep.

“Of course, sire.” Gwen says with a small curtsy before continuing on her way.

Arthur starts back on the venture to his chambers when halfway up the steps to the royal corridor he hears Merlin’s steps fading. Sure enough, Merlin has only made it up half the height Arthur has.

Merlin shoots him an exasperated look. “What?”

Arthur gives his servant a once over, checking for injuries for the umpteenth time. “Are you alright?” Poorly hidden concern laces his words.

Merlin had been knocked to the ground in their most recent bandit attack; Arthur feels a surge of heated anger at the memory, waking him up just the slightest. Thankfully it had just been a shove, not an actual weapon attack and Elyan had been quick to step in. Arthur needs to make sure he gives the knight an extra day off.

“I’m fine Arthur, just exhausted, as we all are.” Merlin scurries to catch up with the prince.

Arthur squints his eyes, he can’t see any visible injuries, not even a limp, just a rather large amount of dirt smeared onto his manservant’s clothes.

When Arthur doesn't move, Merlin passes him with a playful yet careful shove to his shoulder. “Come on clotpole the sooner you get bathed the sooner I can sleep.”

The prince makes an indignant sound and moves to catch up with his manservant.

As they make it to the prince’s chambers Merlin immediately goes to light the hearth as Arthur toes off his boots.

By the time Merlin gets the hearth roaring, not that it takes long, three servants are lugging in the castle's largest washtub. The prince typically uses one of the regular sized washtubs when bathing, (though it’s still obscenely large in comparison to anything a peasant might have), only using the larger one when he wants long relaxing baths. Meaning Merlin will be working late tonight. Plus Merlin can’t carry the large tub by himself so Arthur rarely asks for it.

Normally Merlin would prepare Arthur’s bath as the prince gave report to the king, but he had thankfully been spared the duty today with Arthur not reporting to Uther until tomorrow.

Merlin makes his way over and starts undoing Arthur’s armor as the other servants filter in and out with steaming buckets of water.

Merlin can feel his movements slowing down down, exhaustion creeping up on him again and again, each time he catches himself it’s only a few moments until he slows down again.

He glances up at Arthur expecting an annoyed prattish expression but the prince is merely lazily watching him just as exhaustedly, if Merlin didn’t know any better he’d think Arthur looks a tad sympathetic.

Once Arthur is finally fully undressed Merlin takes a step towards the bedside table but Arthur gently grabs his wrist stopping him in his tracks.

“I’ll get the oil and soaps, just deal with my clothes.” Arthur gestures to the garments at their feet.

With not enough energy to argue or even question, Merlin just nods and starts tossing the clothing in a basket.

By the time Merlin finishes picking up, Arthur is standing at the side of the tub adding a few drops of lavender oil. He detested the idea ages ago when Merlin first suggested it, saying he didn’t want to smell like a flowery girl, but after the way it had helped his muscles and helped him relax, he rarely bathes without it.

The pale yellow drops scatter on the warm surface of the bath water in a mesmerizing way that has Arthur staring for a moment too long.

The prince turns around to see Merlin standing by the door where he had placed his basket of laundry, he is turned towards the prince, though his face is slack and eyes closed. Is.. is he sleeping standing up? Arthur would have laughed if he hadn’t been so boggled.

“Merlin?” Arthur asks tentatively.

Merlin's eyes shoot open, bright blue staring at him in surprise, “Yes sire?” He asks too loudly.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Arthur runs his hand down his face “You’re going to get injured at this rate.” The prince sighs “Come on.” Arthur gestures his head for Merlin to come closer.

Merlin’s brow furrows as he takes the few steps he needs to make it over to the bath.

They stand there for a moment just looking at each other, one fully dressed and one fully nude. Arthur has an expectant and now slightly impatient look on his face.

“Yes?” Merlin tilts his head in the adorable way he frequently does when he’s confused.