Chapter 1: Again
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“It's time to wake up, clot-pole”, Merlin cheerily exclaimed, while yanking Arthur's covers off. Arthur hadn't been exactly asleep, but wanted Merlin to think it.
Until the moment Merlin had barged into his chambers, Arthur had been in the throws of one of the most marvelous dreams. Unfortunately, the stiffness in his cock only worsened when Merlin walked in.
“You've got to give a speech about armor polishing, and then you have to listen to a speech about bricklaying. And then in the afternoon, you have training, followed by a dinner with Guinevere”. Merlin's tone was annoying as ever.
“Oh, and here's you're breakfast”, Merlin added, shoving a scone into Arthur's mouth.
It took all of Arthur's effort to not buck his hips at the sensation of being gagged. This is new. An unbidden image of the scone being replaced by Merlin, rose to his brain. In order to hide his erection, Arthur grumbled something mildly unrecognizable, and turned over.
Rather than giving him solace, Merlin simply climbed on top of him, momentarily caging him with his body, and then pulled Arthur's blankets off, exposing him completely. Arthur did not want to think about how this made him feel. I'm king, and he's a servant. This is just my body. There is nothing else there. Arthur took a deep breath. He was not ready to process what he felt when seeing his miserable servant's smirk.
Of course, Merlin noticed Arthur's predicament as soon as covers came off. However, the raven haired man did not have any mercy.
“Guess somebody is having a hard morning,” Merlin teased with a hollow chuckle, “But I already know your prick. Oops, I mean, that your a prick”.
Arthur would never get a break. Arthur grabbed the closest object, which happened to be a pillow, and chucked it at Merlin. Hopefully that would distract him for the moment.
“Looks like you want an even harder sick up your ass,” Merlin responded, easily dodging the pillow, “I wonder whose will be there next.” Arthur tried to assume he was imagining the sultry tone in Merlin's voice. He was not going to give Merlin the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to him. Arthur did not want to think about the memories, or what he wanted from them.
With something between mocking, pity, and urgency, Merlin commanded “Get out of bed. I need to make sure you are dressed.” Merlin punctuated his command with a slight bite to his bottom lip, somehow making Arthur even more aroused. Hoping that he came off as angry, Arthur completely got out of bed, ran towards Merlin, grabbing one of his hands, twisting it around Merlin's back, in hopes of at least restraining the idiot of a servant. Forgetting his predicament, this motion meant that Arthur was now pressed against Merlin's but, and was holding Merlin close.
Merlin was not going to waste this opportunity, “Oh, being a tease now, are we,” Merlin, then wriggled his but into the Arthur's unmistakable situation, “Just know that turnabout is fair play.” Arthur did not realized that he had pressed Merlin's hips into him, at the flirtatious gesture. He is just teasing me like he always does. He means none of this.
In order to maintain some semblance of control, Arthur then moved his left hand to reach across Merlin's waist, and used his right to make Merlin bend at the waist, but sticking out. “I don't need a weapon to hurt you, Merlin”, he says softly, and then he smacks Merlin's right butt cheek with a smack, hard enough to leave a mark, even above clothing. Arthur knew that the most sadistic part of this routine, was to only it Merlin once. Arthur then gruffly pushed Merlin away, after almost too gently grazing his hands down Merlin's body. There is nothing else there. This isn't the first time I've smacked Merlin. Hell, Merlin isn't even naked.
Merlin is grinning far more widely than Arthur would have liked. Is the grin even genuine? He goes into Arthur's wardrobe with what looks like a spring in his step, and starts to dress Arthur.
“Hmm, Arthur,” Merlin, called, using an almost singsong voice, “You haven't worn these pants in a while, and I think I now why. Maybe you'll be a humbled wearing something that even I would recognize as vaguely pretty. If I'm willing to admit this much to you, imagine what it will do to those who want to touch you.”
That last taunt earned Merlin a punch in the gut, followed by grabbing and pulling Merlin's hair, with the intent to whisper a threat into Merlin's ear. But instead of a threat Arthur grazed Merlin's ear with his teeth and tongue, far more softly than he had intended. Arthur did not dare think too hard about what that meant.
The next thing Arthur notices is Merlin leaving the his room, carrying a laundry basket, with the door quietly closing behind the servant. Arthur was about to call out that Merlin still had chores to do within his chambers. Arthur then looks around and notices that his bed is made, his armor is polished, and set out on an armor stand, and his sword belt laid on his table, next to his now neatly stack papers. Upon further inspection of his chambers, there is nothing Merlin could possibly have left to do inside his chambers. The candles are lit, and next to each candle holder, there are two or three replacement candles. The hearth lit enough to provide heat, but with a warm low flame, appropriate for the day time. Next to the hearth, the wood pile has been refilled. On the mantle, there are even flowers, replaced with fresh ones, and one of his bedside tables has a bowl of fresh fruit, and a covered plate. Underneath the cover, Arthur sees that there is a helping of his customary bread meats and cheeses. I just woke up. How the hell did this happen? What even happened?
Deciding that he could not find a single work-related reason to recall his servant, Arthur went to the table, to finish his speech, and then see what the day had in store for him. After arriving at his table, Arthur noticed that the scroll placed neatly on the top of the pile of papers, was in fact a well written speech about armor polishing. Beneath that was a scroll that seemed have the title “Bricklaying”, and had a bunch of notes, with questions, and neat lines for him to fill in an answer. Upon further inspection, the first few paragraphs even had a neat summary of the current laws, the proposed laws, and the places that the bricklaying guild wanted something different. Huh, I don't remember doing this. I don't know the first thing about polishing, or bricklaying.
Merlin must be a miracle worker, as Arthur was sure he did not do all of this research. Arthur made a mental note to silently give his servant a raise, and question him more thoroughly about his “night in the tavern”, as Guias claimed Merlin was doing yesterday, when asked. Unbidden memories of Merlin's soft flesh haunted Arthur, as he walked over to his council meeting about polishing.
Arthur tried his best not to doze of during the speech about bricklaying. The delicate curl of Merlin's penmanship kept him occupied as he filled in the blanks, trying really hard not to create doodles in the margins. Arthur respected Merlin too much to destroy his handy work with doodles.
Arthur cleared his throat, making the hand-signal for servant to refill his goblet. To his surprise, it was George, and not Merlin refilling goblet, with an ever-present scowl, paired with a professional bow. Because of the meeting, Arthur could only think Where the ever-present fuck is Merlin. Bricklaying is far more boring than I could even imagine. At least Merlin would have the decency to smirk at him.
Merlin
Merlin raced barely remembered what happened this morning. He did not remember the familiar walk home. He barely remembered when he unlocked his door with silent incantation. There were no thoughts, only rage.
Freya
It was around noon when Merlin stormed in. Freya recognized the anger in her husband, and knew that something big happened. She also knew that only Arthur could cause this. She had seen glimpses of this before, when remembering what happened. Freya knew that she couldn't coax Merlin out of this alone. But she she needed her Merlin to protect her. But she also knew that she will always take care of her Merlin. She will surround him with love and protection, She knew that Merlin would guide her and protect her, and she hoped she would allow Merlin to let her make him pay for his misdeeds. But for now, Merlin needed her, and other friends. He needed to feel safe, and to know that he was not alone.
Once Merlin had crossed the threshold she extinguished the flame in the hearth, knowing that under-cooked dinner an acceptable risk for now. She walked up to him, and grasped his hands in hers, feeling his stone cold fingers. Freya was not going to press, but she needed him to know that he was safe, and that she was not leaving him. Not that I have anywhere to go, but I also would not have it any other way. Merlin had a way of making her feel loved, to the bottom of her soul. And as much as Freya knew that it was reciprocated, Freya had done this enough times to know that she would not be able to coax Merlin out of his trance. However, she did need to know something.
“Hit me…. on me... stopped time... used magic,” Merlin croaked, in an empty voice, his eyes seeming to stare straight through her, or past her.
Freya grabs a cloak from a hook by the door. This cloak was special for when Merlin needed to get around with less recognition. Freya was known for being a florist in the town, but they had both agreed that they would both be safer if their marriage was not common enough knowledge for it to get to the king. Most of the knights knew who she was to Merlin, but Merlin was not particularly keen on Arthur using her against him.
“Put this on, Emrys,” Freya coos, pulling the cloak around Merlin's shoulders, attempting to get the hood to cover his face. She used his druid name, to relax him, and to impress upon him the degree of her trust in him. “Let's get you out of here”.
Freya turned Merlin around and coaxed him out the door with her. Freya smiled tightly as she noticed Merlin's eyes glow, wordlessly locking, and warding their home. Even in this state, Merlin seemed to have enough wherewithal to protect the incriminating contents of the house.
With Freya's firm grip on Merlin's hand, she expertly guided him through the familiar streets to Gwen's house. Freya wished that Gwen or Lance were druids so that she could call out to them. Her own house was much safer. But somehow the comfort and familiarity of Gwen's house, with Lancelot's murmurs were the only thing that seemed to work to coax Merlin out of this trance before. Freya was not so possessive to reject help from the only two who knew Merlin more intimately that she did. Or at least the only two who had permission to know him so well. The king was an enigma, as he seems to know Merlin well, but not well enough to know when to back off.
After two sharp raps on the door Gwen answered, opening the door just a crack with nust her head peaking out. A single glance at Merlin and her caused her to close the door, and then open it again, wearing a silk robe, tied neatly around her waste, but not tied tightly enough to completely cover her cleavage. At the moment, Freya ignored the way Gwen's curls draped over her shoulders, framing her face. Or the way her hips swayed when grabbing Merlin from her, guiding him to a bench.
“What happened,” Gwen asked sweetly.
“I'm not exactly sure,” Freya replied, doing her best to keep her voice even, “From what I gather, the king came on to him, and then Merlin used some time magic. I've never seen him like this.”
Gwen hummed gracefully, beckoning Lancelot, who must have been behind a screen until now. Seeing Lancelot wearing so little made Freya instinctively reach to magically lock the door, only remembering that the door was bolted from the inside, and that it was still risky to practice magic without Merlin's wards. Freya then watched as Gwen glided over to the hearth, swaying her hips seductively. As Gwen started to put the kettle onto the hook over the fire, her robe fell off her shoulders, revealing most of her bosom. Freya turned away, hoping Gwen didn't notice her blush.
Gwen handed Freya a teapot, and a tin of tea, and then she grabbed the kettle with a cloth. Lancelot and Merlin were settled on the bench on once side of the table, with Merlin laying down on Lancelot's lap. The latter was shirtless, head protectively dipped down, one hand on Merlin's stomach, and the other curled around Merlin's ear. Merlin's eyes were golden and glowing, but otherwise unfocused. One of his hands had an icy blue orb floating. Freya could finally relax somewhat, knowing that Merlin was safe for now. While instinctively wanting to adjust his hood, to hide the magic in his eyes, Freya refrained, knowing that Lancelot knew what he was doing, and was well appraised of Merlin's magic. It broke her heart to see Merlin like this.
Freya placed the teapot atop a block of wood, shaped for the purpose, like she had done many times before. She automatically scooped some tea from the tin and placed it into the brewing cage, and set the teapot down to brew. Wanting to give Lancelot and Merlin some privacy, Freya turned towards Gwen and the cupboard again, aiming to get come teacups. With the same idea, and a fair amount of practice, Gwen had already turned around, anticipating Freya's move, mug in each hand, handing them to Freya.
The only difference between this time, and other iterations of this routine, is that Gwen hadn't bothered to keep her robes closed as tightly. This is simply because of the urgency, anxiety, and activities her and Lancelot were clearly engaged in before my interruption. An unbidden image of Gwen riding on Lancelot, one hand squeezing a nipple, and her other hand rubbing her own clit, bringing herself to orgasm, with Lancelot's hands on her hips. She then blushed resisting the urge to ghost her hand across one of Gwen's nipples while retrieving the offered mugs. She also did not want to think about some of her more intense impulses around Gwen. She will always be there to serve her Merlin, but this was different. Another image of Gwen's perfect face, clamped between her own thighs, with her perfect curls tangled within her own fingers came to Freya's mind, as Gwen touched her fingers to her hand, while releasing the mug.
“You are welcome to look, or even to touch if you want,” Gwen breathed into Freya's ear.
Freya snapped out of it. Holy fuck. I want something from Gwen that is not part of what I have with Merlin. As if feeling caught, Freya mumbled something, but then straightened out, with her two mugs, turning on her heel to walk over to the table. Gwen lazily grabs the other two teacups and follows Freya, running a hand down the druid woman's back before sitting down next to her.
Freya automatically pushes the kettle to the center of the table so that Gwen and Lance have equal access to it. Gwen slides closer to Freya, with her teacup and bats her eyelashes at Freya, not moving the hand on Freya's back. “May I?” she asks, softly.
As Freya pours some tea, Gwen continues, “You are quite beautiful you know”. She then leans into Freya, and swiftly gives her a kiss on the cheek. This gesture could be construed as simply reassuring, if it weren't for her now complete nudity, as Gwen's robe was now draped over the bench. The intimacy was only increased when Gwen abruptly stood up, and coaxed Freya out of her own cloak, undoing the front fastening from behind carefully caressing her shoulders, back, and breast. Freya shivered at first, feeling mildly uncomfortable at the removal of her armor, but not altogether uncomfortable, the combination of the tea and hearth and bodies in close quarters had made her rather warm. Freya did not want to think about any other reasons why removing a layer might make her even warmer than before.
“Are you okay?” Gwen asks kindly. Gwen was not unaware of how challenging Merlin's episodes could be on her, especially when she couldn't help him herself.
“Yes”, Freya responds, still anxious, “I'm worried for Merlin, especially since, well, it seems there might have been magic involved. I am also scared because I do not like it when people touch my Merlin without consent. But most of all, I am worried, because right now there is somebody whom I very much would like to kiss,” Freya looked up at Lancelot and Merlin. Merlin breath has evened out. His right hand still has the ball of magic, but his eyes are locked on Lancelot's eyes. Merlin's other hand is entwined with Lancelot's hand, who seem to be moving his hand back and forth along Merlin, generating feelings of pleasure and protective comfort. Freya was well acquainted with that look from Merlin. She knows that he is happy, and that she can only get him to this place when he is assertively gripping her hair. It is one thing for Merlin to have respite of peace from place of strength. Freya couldn't get him here, from a place of weakness. That is what Lancelot was for. Freya's lips curled, knowing what she wants.
Feeling emboldened from Merlin's safety, Freya reached out, and grabbed Guinevere's hair, right at the base of her neck. Close enough to gain control, but not so far to cause pain. “I want you to thank me for trusting you with my husband,” Freya states flatly, but leaning into Gwen, placing her other hand on Gwen's shoulder, trailing down, “By going down on me”.
The tension between the two women was palpable. Gwen's pupils dilated, drinking in the moment, relieved to finally give control to somebody who will take it.
Freya, surprised at herself, but pleased by this reaction, touched her forehead to Gwen's with a lick on her lips. She squeezed Gwen's nipple between two knuckles, moving them even closer together.
The moment was broken with a sharp wrap on the door, “Gwenivere, open up. I can't fund my stupid manservant. Have you seen him?”
Chapter 2: Hungry
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Arthur walked into his chambers to eat a quick snack and change into armor. Merlin was prattling on as usual, complaining about something Arthur couldn't be bothered to pay attention to. Once his chamber doors closed, Merlin continued his prattle while removing the king's clothing. This was nothing new, but Merlin allowed his fingers to linger a bit too long this time.
Arthur nearly imperceptibly leaned towards Merlin as the raven-haired man put his hands underneath Arthur's shirt. Arthur secretly hoped that Merlin would simply place his palms on his chest and hold him close, forgetting about his station briefly.
“Carry on and quit being stupid,” Arthur barked at Merlin, aiming to hid the blush creeping along his cheeks. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of was giving favor to a mere servant. No matter how petulant.
However, Arthur could not deny that Merlin's petulant defiance stirred something within him that made him want to force the servant to truly obey in a way that no other servant could. Then Merlin's sharp cheekbones moved in a way that made Arthur want to kiss him. Artur could not betray that he wanted something soft.
So then the electrically charged silence continued as if this were a normal routine. Merlin carefully undressed his king and Arthur barked orders to hide arousal or bit his tongue.
“On your knees,” Arthur commanded, immediately after Merlin had unbuckled his trousers. To be fair, Merlin was already on his knees, pulling Arthur's trousers down, so Arthur placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder to accentuate that he meant for Merlin to stay there.
“In your dreams,” Merlin replied but did not move to get up, instead looking up at Arthur with a flutter in his eyes.
Without words, he moved his hand from Merlin's shoulder to his hair and pushed the servant's lips onto his now exposed and enlarged cock. Merlin's squeals of surprise and movement to get away made Arthur's hardness twitch even more. Merlin could not escape. Arthur was aroused. Arthur was aroused because of Merlin. There was no escape.
When Merlin opened his mouth, likely to protest, Arthur forced himself into Merlin's mouth, with enough force to stop all noises. Merlin's wet mouth felt heavenly. It felt like it was made specifically for his pleasure. Merlin's noises of protest created vibrations that Arthur felt throughout his body. These sensations were going to drive him to release.
Arthur did not want it to end yet. He was just getting started. In an effort to savor the feeling, Arthur brought Merlin's head just to Arthur's tip, to allow him to lick just the most sensitive tip. The pleading look in Merlin's eyes nearly made Arthur cum, so he then violently shoved himself until he bottomed out, roughly fucking into Merlin's throat, relishing in the sensations of each gag.
“I see somebody is enjoying himself,” Arthur growled while pushing Merlin's head into another gag. Arthur was curious about Merlin's reaction after a gag. “I expect you to be grateful for this privilege, as I know you've wanted this since you met me.”
Merlin's eyes became a stony cold at Arthur's soft words. Tears were now just residue on his cheeks.
Curious, Arthur pulled Merlin halfway off of him. The light scrape of Merlin's teeth teased Arthur as he was manipulating Merlin's head. Arthur stopped, holding Merlin about halfway up his length. This made Merlin's words into sensual sensations rather than any useful communication.
It was clear that Merlin's defiance reached his eyes. Arthur was expected to see empty, compliant eyes. He hoped to see pleasure. What he found was quiet defiance.
Suddenly, Arthur couldn't think. He felt nothing but pain. His vision was white, with ghosts of red in his periphery. The pain extended from abdomen to knees. It was all Arthur could do to avoid doubling over.
Merlin, Arthur's servant, had the nerve to bite Arthur's penis.
Merlin had the gall to bite Arthur when he was giving Merlin the honor of pleasuring a king.
Sometime during the struggle, Merlin managed to get his mouth off of Arthur's penis, but Arthur threw his hands on Merlin's shoulders to prevent a complete tumble. Now, Arthur's face was cheek-to-cheek with Merlin's.
“Stop, and fuck off,” Merlin spat, “I don't want this.” He pushed against Arthur's shoulders, creating as much space between the two men as possible. This defiance made Arthur livid. Merlin was Arthur's manservant. Merlin did not have the right to deny royalty.
Despite the sexual situation, Arthur's warrior instincts kicked in. Arthur stood up properly again, and used Merlin's momentum against him, and then twisted Merlin around to now being bent over, cheek pressed onto the table.
“Oh, you will pay for this little party trick, idiot,” Arthur responded, roughly taking off Merlin's jacket. He then more tenderly unknotted the neckerchief while pressing a kiss onto the more petite man's forehead.
Arthur figured that some tender treatment might coax this idiotic mood out of Merlin, and bring him back to his friendly self.
He didn't want to think about how he also wanted to see Merlin smile, and accept the offered pleasure.
“Be a good boy for me, will ya?” Arthur whispered into Merlin's ear, hoping the praise would keep him still. He also privately liked seeing Merlin's proud smile when trying to be good for Arthur.
Arthur swallowed down his embarrassing hesitation, and decided he was going to continue trying to convince Merlin that he meant no harm, and to ensure that Merlin would not pull a trick of defiance again. He figured the best way to achieve this was to make Merlin confront his own arousal, as Arthur was making it clear where they stood.
Arthur crouched down and pulled down Merlin's pants and underwear, revealing two deliciously round ass cheeks. However, Arthur was rather surprised to fins a limp and soft dick, as if none of the fondling was arousing. With the lack of arousal in mind, Arthur figured that the situation is humiliating enough for now. Arthur wanted to make this last, so he could savor all of his servant. Merlin's lack of interest made Arthur's erection twitch, with barely controlled desire. Merlin's arms were flailing, and his countless disapproving insults were on his lips. While others may stop and confirm consent at this point, the the rejection only encouraged Arthur.
“You are kind of hot being your master's little slut boy” Arthur almost whispered, ghosting Merlin's cheek with his lips.
Merlin squirmed away in response, as if trying to decide whether defiance or submission was the best course of action. Arthur loved seeing Merlin take this delicious choice, as either answer had him right where Arthur wanted.
He then decided that Merlin's mouth should be put back to good use, despite the pain from earlier. Merlin's defiance made the challenge even more exhilarating.
Arthur roughly grabbed Merlin's head again, moving it back and forth along his length, ensuring that Merlin kept making the wonderful gagging noises that made his warm throat contract around his dick, feeling soft and inviting.
Arthur kept up the pace, increasing until he was about to reach release. “I think I want to show off today,” Arthur said with a smile, looking into Merlin's glassy wet eyes. Release was coming. Merlin's head brought Arthur to the brink. Arthur had the sudden urge to mark his territory, ensuring that Merlin knew to whom he belonged. Arthur abruptly moved Merlin's head off of his cock, not giving him enough time to bite down, having learned his lesson. Arthur then grunted in absolute pleasure as he released his seed onto Merlin's face and shirt and then made sure he got some onto Merlin's neckerchief.
Seeing this wondrous sight made Arthur's spent cock twitch again. So Arthur decided to grab Merlin's shoulder, bring him up to stand, and start rubbing Merlin's neckerchief to collect Arthur's seed. Noticing the moistened cloth, Arthur then started using his own seed to rub on Merlin's soft dick.
Seeing little reaction other than empty eyes, Arthur smacked Merlin's face with an open palm, “Tell me how much you love this. I want to hear you beg for me as I make you feel good.”
Merlin's eyes held no more defiance. They were simply blank. Accepting. Trusting.
Arthur started to kiss Merlin, starting on the forehead and making his way down, paying special attention to Merlin's nipples, stiff due to stress, the cold, or, most likely, arousal. A quick nip on Merlin's neck told Arthur this would be a special spot.
Eventually, Merlin's energy came back, and with that more defiance. “For real, I do not want this. Let me go, and I won't tell anybody about this,” Merlin squealed pitifully. This may have been genuine communication. But to Arthur, the squeals were encouragement. He would not accept no, for he could finally be honest, and allow Merlin to do the same.
“No, I want you to be aroused for me, as you are adorable and you want this more than I do,” Arthur replied while softly rubbing Merlin's thighs and bollocks. Merlin's physical reactions already confirmed that he wanted this, regardless of what his mouth might be saying.
Finally, Merlin's cock started to stiffen as Merlin sighed. With that, Arthur lifted Merlin up, bridal style, and gently placed him on the cushioned bed. Arthur was determined to make Merlin feel good. A bed was a first step in impressing onto Merlin just how much he mattered.
“You are adorable. I can tell how much you want me, and that is really sexy” Arthur whispered, gazing into Merlin's teary eyes.
Tears started dripping down Merlin's face as his cock hardened. He wiggled his torso, trying to get free, but in his state, it worked only to bring him even closer to Arthur. If Arthur was honest with himself, the squirming only made Merlin more alluring.
Even after one orgasm, Arthur could feel his own arousal at Merlin's pitiful attempt to break free.
“Any questions, your majesty?” The head of the bricklayer union repeated, startling Arthur out of his daydream. Noticing that he was unceremoniously aroused, underneath the table, Arthur grabbed his goblet, and took a moment to ground himself. He then looked around for Merlin, disappointed that he had not seen him since that weird moment in his chambers that morning. Arthur bit back a smile at the fading imagery of his spend all over Merlin, hoping that he did not look as he felt inside.
Feigning interest, Arthur looked down at the scroll on the table before him, attempting to shake off the daydream. Arthur, now fully erect, started paying attention to his notes, surprisingly scribbled, to reduce the inappropriate nature of his mood. Somehow, while daydreaming, he had successfully scribbled something. However, most of the notes he took were simple lines, keeping track of time. Arthur silently thanked Merlin for making his notes.
After scanning for a question Merlin helpfully wrote Arthur asked, “Is there a trade route that will make obtaining clay and other supplies easier?”attempting to sound like he had been paying attention this whole time. He did his best to not let his mind wander over to his insolent servant.
Arthur did not particularly want to indulge in this anymore. He suddenly wanted to stand up and force himself on the closest person to him. Still, he also knew that such a public display of disinterest in the task at had would be politically problematic, so he continued. It was almost painful, as Arthur tried not to look around for a hint of raven haired goofiness to keep him focused. He attempted to keep one ear open this time as he drifted back into the deliciously sensual daydream.
Arthur promised himself that he would manage to get Merlin into bed at least someday soon. Merlin would finally be able to be honest about how he felt.
Picking up his quill and continuing with sham interest, Arthur motioned to George to refill his water glass. Maybe George could pretend to be Merlin for a while. He did not have Merlin's smirk, but he did have a rather fetching build, for a servant.
George swiftly refilled Arthur's goblet with self-assured confidence, while unusual in servants is also present in Merlin. George' was slighter and shorter than Merlin, giving him an unassuming presence. However, the gleam in his eye and the plumb of his butt made him worth admiring. Unlike Merlin, George's clothing was expertly tailored, with red, brown, and gold fabrics. George wore no neckerchief but a formal necktie, knotted and tucked underneath an ivory tunic.
Arthur attempted to rest his hand on George's hindquarters as he was refilling the goblet, but somehow, George managed to swiftly navigate the situation, preventing this from happening. Arthur was perplexed, expecting to be able to caress George with the same ease he liked to do with Merlin.George is being professional, Arthur thought, he was not rejecting me, attempting to stave off boredom.
Then, figuring that the best way to get through this arduous meeting was to keep one hand on his own growing dick and hope that others notice just enough to know who has power in this room.
Arthur was thoroughly frustrated when the “matters of state” meetings were finished. He could not listen to another squabble about cows or trade routes if he wanted to. He also felt his arousal like a weapon. Arthur headed to the training ground to try to forget the wonderful images that Arthur had used to get through the meeting.
Before training, Arthur stopped at his chambers to change. After removing his tunic and before removing his trousers, Arthur heard a knock.
“Come in, ” Arthur responded to the knock, knowing that he had requested some food to energize him for training. This was part of his normal routine, although it did bother him that Merlin had not walked in.
In walked a servant Arthur had not noticed before. She was tall for a servant, only about a head shorter than Arthur. Her curly, auburn locks were tied back with a hemp ribbon, with wisps framing the front of her face. Her features were long and elegant, although there seemed to be a scar from her left eyebrow down to the middle of her cheek. Her face was now tinted pink, as she was not accustomed to seeing a shirtless king.
While her servant's dress fit loosely, Arthur figured she was quite pretty. “You may place the tray over the table,”Arthur requested, indicating the surface on which he wanted his food.
This may have been due to his extreme arousal, but Arthur could not ignore the way the servant's hips swayed as she glided across the room. Arthur followed behind her, trapping her against the table when she got there. For just a moment, he allowed himself to brush erection against her.
He then gently ghosted his hand across her bosom, and collarbone. Then he clasped the servant's shoulder with one hand.
Leaning in, he pressed his lips against her cheek and trailed to her ear. After lightly nibbling her earlobe, Arthur whispered, “Kneel.”
He was curious where this would lead, and hoped that he could successfully imagine Merlin in her place. Maybe she would disobey enough for him to forget Merlin just for a little while. Where was that idiot anyway?
Obediently, this woman knelt. Arthur would later realize that he never saw her again, but that didn't matter now. While having one hand tangled in her hair Arthur guided her face to his crotch, hoping any indication that she was resisting.
“Do you want this?” Arthur asked, suddenly unsure. When Merlin was around, it was clear that he was interacting in their private dance. This new servant was unfamiliar, and did not engage in banter.
“N–no… Not really,” The servant stammered, trying to remove herself from the situation. Arthur noticed that her refusal was earnest and quiet. Despite communicating discomfort, it was clear that she would obey regardless of the ask. This reassured Arthur that she could not possibly refuse the chance at being intimate with a king.
The servant woman's ultimate compliance with the sensual requests, paired with explicit words of distaste softened Arthur. Part of the fun was the chase. He knew he was the most powerful man in Camelot. There is no chance she does not want this Arthur thought to himself after hearing the her displeasure. Refusal is the best way to ensure you will get what you want, Arthur chided himself, happy that he was not thinking about Merlin for once.
The serving girl was now leaning away from Arthur, precariously leaning against the table. One hand was gripping the bottom of the table. Her other hand felt and noticed that the table was mostly empty, so she pushed the plate of food over to an otherwise unused part of the table. Arthur raked his eyes down her smooth jawline, and letting his eyes rest just above her bosom.
Arthur took his right hand and started to feel around for her nipples, while staring deeply into her eyes. With his other hand, he grabbed her hand and placed it directly on the front of his trousers, to communicate what he wanted from her. He was impatient to see her writhe in pleasure, the way she implicitly asked for.
“I really should get back to the kitchens. I'm expected to continue cooking,” the girl whispered sinking to her knees. It did not occur to Arthur that she was trying to escape. All he saw as a woman with moist lips sinking to her knees. He assumed that this was another tantalizing invitation, as he saw all refusals to be.
Arthur tangled his right hand into her curls, allowing him to completely guide her head. With his other hand, he freed his cock with a satisfying “plop”. The warmth of her mouth reminded Arthur of what Merlin's mouth could do. The warm wetness felt like it was made for him, and Arthur pleasured himself with the servant's head with his eyes closed, imagining Merlin's angular form.
With the memory of his seed all over Merlin in his mind's eye, Arthur decided that he first wanted to try something else.
Arthur wanted to her this woman's shrieks of pleasure. This interaction would not be satisfying without knowing she was here. He wanted to see some life in her eyes. Pleasure or pain. Desire or Defiance. Command or deference. He wanted a challenge.
A few minutes passed, as the serving girl writhed underneath Arthur's ministrations. Arthur neither knew or cared if she actually felt something, but at least she was resisting. He looked up, catching a breath for a moment, and moved away from her. She swiftly got up and left the room, nearly at a sprint. This was fine, as Arthur moved across the room towards his open window, only to see that his knights were gathering at the training grounds. While not completely satisfied, Arthur figured that he could now train with his knights, and maybe tire out. Hopefully Merlin would be tending to the weapons. and everything will go back to normal.
After easily beating Sir Leon and Sir Percival in a two-on-one fight, Arthur realized that he did not see Lancelot. Frustrated with his absence on top of Merlin's, Arthur plodded over to Gwenivere's house, hoping that maybe she would know where the two weirdest men in his life were hiding. He sheathed his sword onto his belt, and plodded into town after politely waving to the knights. He did not care who saw him, or how sweaty and aggressive he looked right now. Arthur was on a mission.
Chapter 3: Afraid
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For the first time today, Merlin felt peaceful. Gwen's tea, smelled calming as ever, and the hearth warmed his bones, like a comforting hug from his mother. He felt Lancelot's hand lazily caressing his chest, occasionally tugging at the wisps of magic coming from the hand by his side. This felt peaceful and safe.
The memories of this morning started slowly coming back to him, as he vaguely noticed Gwen and Freya flirting on the other side of the table. Freya and Lancelot made him feel safe, and as whole as he could possibly feel, given the situation.Right now, Merlin just wanted to get lost in Lancelot's dreamy eyes looking down upon him, smiling, as his mouth smirked at the playful squeeze Lancelot was giving Merlin's manhood. Merlin felt a surge of magic and pleasure ripple down his body, and turned his head towards Lancelot' lean chest, aiming to lick Lancelot affectionately. Missing his mark, Merlin ended up nuzzling Lancelot's own erection. Merlin stiffened, not actually wanting to change this moment into anything other than affection.
“You are adorable you know?” Lancelot leaned into Merlin, whispering into Merlin's ear, with words only meant for Merlin. It was clear that Lance understood that Merlin had no intention of escalating, but only wanted affection. He seemed to know exactly what Merlin needed. Merlin needed to be able to escape, and to not think. If he thought about what happened …
Suddenly, Merlin felt another wave of pleasure, from Lance lazily caressing his chest and stomach, jolting him from the unpleasant thought about to occur.
Then when Lancelot tensed in response to a noise, all that remained was fear.
Lancelot
Before hearing anything, Lancelot noticed Gwen's entire body stiffen, and instantaneously flip from the relaxed, flirtatious posture she was indulging in, to that of fear, scrambling to find clothing, and to keep Freya out of sight. He could tell that both Gwen and Freya were flustered, both because of their momentary relaxing reprieve, and because they each were almost as scared of Arthur as Merlin was. The servants talked, and Merlin, while the focal point of Arthur's insanity, was not the only one at the receiving end of indiscretions.
Earlier that day, before the missed training session, Lancelot had spoken to Leon about the more problematic logistical consequences of Arthur's behavior. While he did not explicitly mention Merlin's plight, he used the conversation to gauge Leon's response for this kind of situation. Lancelot just did not realize that the situation would happen so soon.
Hilariously, Lancelot noticed that a cart, only slightly smaller than Merlin himself, full of linens, weapons and armor, was situated near the back door. This gave Lancelot an idea.
First, Lancelot propped himself up, gently resting the catatonic Merlin on the bench. He then slinked over to Freya, and put one hand over her mouth.
“Freya—quiet. Help me move Merlin in to the cart. Gwenivere,—moaning and look for some proper clothing.” Lancelot sternly ordered in a kind whisper, removing his hand from Freya's mouth, and gesturing appropriately. He was not unkind, but needed to keep a cool head. He then made a forced grunt in time with Gwen's falsetto noises, hoping that presumed intimacy would buy them enough time to at least hide Merlin.
While Gwenivere scampered over to her wardrobe to get proper clothing, Lancelot motioned for Freya to quietly empty the cart, while Lancelot lifted Merlin and carried him to the back.
“I'll be right there. Hold on a moment, Your Majesty” Gwenivere announced loudly and conspicuously. Lancelot hoped this was enough.
Freya had grabbed one of Lancelot and Gwenivere's pillows from the bed, and placed it underneath Merlin. While Lancelot was loath to make Gwenivere part with one of her two pillows, he figured that she would understand, given the situation. He made a mental note to grab a replacement from the laundry at the castle, later. Hopefully it would go unnoticed.
Two more booms shook the frame of the house. “What is taking so long? Merlin has got to be here, unless you and Lance-y are doing the do?” Arthur emphasized the shortened version of Lancelot's name, in a way that made his skin crawl. Merlin was just about the only person allowed to give Lancelot a nickname. It was also stomach churning that Arthur dared to use euphamisms to describe actions he managed to twist into something dangerous.
“Do you think you can get him to Leon's chambers?” Lancelot whispered to Freya, as he finished covering Merlin with a blanket, and the rest of the linens and weapons. “If anybody asks, you are delivering these weapons from the blacksmith”.
Freya nodded, as Lancelot opened the back door to let her out. The moment she was out and the door closed agan, Lancelot nodded at Gwenivere to open the door, while starting to put on the shirt he thought he was just taking a break before training.
“I missed you during training. I wanted to pummel you, Sir Lancelot” Arthur's voice was posh, and had an even joking tone, as if he had no idea why he might be unwelcome.
“You haven't been able to yet,” Lancelot responded, keeping his tone lighthearted. Unfortunately this banter was well-practiced. If he betrayed how he really felt, then he would not be a knight, and he might not have a head. Lancelot wanted to keep his head firmly on his neck. Despite Arthur's ridiculousness, he did tend to make good decisions for Camelot as a whole, most of the time. However, there were no other good options. Morgana, was not … politically favorable at the moment. Even Giaus would be better than both Morgana and Arthur combined, but Lancelot did not think that the septuagenarian physician wanted a second career in politics.
Arthur muttered a response, not quite rebuffing Lancelot, as he walked around the cottage, picking stuff up, and placing them down, as if to tell Gwenivere, and himself, that he could take their home away if he wanted to. After taking a moment to scan Gwenivere's hasty ensemble, with a clearly backwards shirt, Arthur, poured himself some the tea meant for Merlin, and drank from what was Freya's teacup.
“It looks like you missed mandatory drills to have a romp with the blacksmith. ” Arthur stated calmly, after taking a breath. Lancelot could tell that despite gathering supplies to restart the forge after lunch, Gwenivere had not let her breath out or stood still since Freya left with Merlin.
“Yes, sir” Lancelot responded, standing rigidly near the table, unsure of Arthur's meaning.
“Can I assume that you and the blacksmith were alone for the romp?”
“Obviously.”
“Hmm, that is not obvious. I, for one, rather enjoy showing off.” Lancelot swallowed, shuddering at Arthur's implication.
Arthur continued, “Why do you have four places set for tea, if it was only the two of you?”
“Because—” Lancelot stuttered, hoping to pass this off as embarrassment at the sexual situation. At least he was subtle enough about most of his rendezvous to not gain a reputation, unlike another knight Lancelot knew. “You kind of interrupted us, but we had err—plans for the extra two mugs, if you know what I mean?”
“I do not. Please elaborate. I've had all manner of kinky carry-ons, especially as of late, so do enlighten me—what exactly were you and Gwen doing with four teacups and a lunch break? Might be worth a go. ”
“I'm sure, with enough effort, you can work it out, sire.” With that both Lancelot and Arthur knew there was more to the story, but Arthur decided to drop it for now.
“Well, if you do see my dimwitted servant around, let him know I have chores for him, okay?” Arthur poured himself a second cup of tea, drained, standing up from the table, and patted Lancelot's arm, and went to leave.
After Arthur opened the door, and before he left, he remarked, “I hope I get a chance to give Gwen a ride. She seems like a good one. Though I prefer to wield the only weapon in bed.”
Once Arthur finally left, Gwenivere walked back in, and wordlessly hugged Lancelot tightly closely, burying her face and her worries in his chest. Somebody has got replace that turd one of these days,Lancelot thought to himself, while just taking comfort in the softness of Gwenivere's hair, and her shrewd understanding of exactly what he needed in the moment. They stayed like that, just holding each other, until Gwenivere's breath started to steady, as she tried to match her breathing to Lancelot's calming rhythm.
Freya
Lancelot's cart with Merlin, and all of the supplies, was a lot heavier than Freya first thought. She worried that the jostling would wake or upset Merlin. She wished that Lancelot had just asked if he could walk. How did he think that she got Merlin to their place? By flying? Lancelot knew her magic was nowhere near Merlin's but she could manage a half decent misdirection spell. Usually with Merlin's help.
Freya walked from either Gwen's place, or her own, multiple times a day. She remembered one time she even sleep-walked her way over to right outside Morgana's bed-chambers. That was the day Merlin put the “awake-checker” on the wards on their house. Freya smiled at the memory. That was her Merlin, always making sure she was safe.
The walk seemed to take years, with the extra load, and Freya's nervous energy about being caught. Luckily, she had managed to put her cloak back on, and at this point she doubted anybody she did not know and trust would explicitly recognize her. While she did serve the royal family nearly every day, she spent as much time running messages between servants doing actual chores for the royal household. Most of the other servants she knew were because Merlin introduced her.
After looking around, and ensuring that she was alone, Frey the cart over, and lifted the blanket from Merlin's forehead, caressing it gently.
“Emrys,” Freya half whispered, and whispered in her mind. She did not want to disturb Merlin, as the mid trick was wrought to do, but she started to realize that she did not remember who "Leon" was. She knew he was an important person. She also wanted to ensure that Merlin could take a breath, as she was sure the air under the blanket, inside the jostling cart could not be comfortable. Freya could barely accept seeing her Merlin so weak and pitiful. Even more, she was furious that somebody had managed to her Emrys, the most powerful warlock to ever live. Merlin was the warlock who has been written about in the legends. And Merlin loved her. But more importantly, her love for Merlin would make him even more dangerous than he even knew.
“Ask George” Merlin softly croaked, while sending a tendril of magic in her direction. Even without the physical touch, the feel of Merlin's magic immediately made her calm down.
“Emrys, my love, why should I go to one of the royal servants, find a…soldier or politician…? … I think…?” Freya asked, telepathically, after re-securing Merlin and getting back onto the path. To be totally honest, Freya wasn't even sure why some random castle-person would be expecting a weapons and laundry delivery from some random servant. Or why a royal servant would deign to look at said castle-person. In Freya's experience, most of the royal servants were quite uppity until Merlin introduced her properly. Somehow saying Merlin was her husband was never enough.
Instead of respond, Merlin chuckled, and sent her images of George proudly polishing armor, while Merlin was holding a spoon.
Freya sighed, knowing Merlin was going to be no help. But this was a good sign, as his cryptic sense of humor was coming back. Despite not solving her problem, it lifted her spirits immensely.
Arriving at the entrance to the castle, Freya, much to her dismay realized that she needed to take the long way around, with a ramp. She internally groaned, remembering the last time she was here, she spent half a day wandering the maze. Sensing her exasperation, Merlin started giving her directions, and telling her when to hide. Apparently he could help her when she was directionally confused, even if he would not explain who Leon was.
When Merlin eventually fell silent Freya nearly panicked, as they were in the depths of an unfamiliar part of the castle, and nowhere near the locations of her typical message route,from physician, laundress, silversmith, cook, and back to the main Morgana servant's hub. Worse still, nobody seemed to be frequenting this passageway, preventing Freya from even being able to ask for directions. After looking around for anybody, she pulled over to the side, and gave Merlin time to breathe again, hoping that the telepathic communication was wearing him out or something.
Then one of her superiors came over, and knocked on the side of the cart twice, and stated “The royal prince belives you are gathering herbs with Giaus”
George
Despite being taller than him, Leon's whimpers were intoxicating, as George wedged his knee between Leon's thighs, pressing Leon against the ancient castle wall. He could feel the heat radiating from Leon, despite being cooled by both stone and chain–mail. Leon tried maneuvering to get friction, but only managed to look adorably pathetic. George loved this particular nook, as it was convinently out of view, and led to a rarely-used servant's corridor between two different major, and newer thoroughfares. Georged stayed cautious, as he did not want to risk his career due to an improper relationship. Earning royal ire never went well, even with the protection from the first knight.
“Lets continue this in your chambers after I serve dinner” George whispered into Leon's ear, with a smirk. He had just heard the afternoon bells, and thought he heard somebody in the hallway. Luckily this particular junction meant that he and Leon could walk in opposite directions and still get meet in Leon's chambers within a reasonably similar time. George also could see that Leon was a little bit zoned out, likely from Arthur's particularly draining training, and did not notice the time. George worried about cause and effect of Arthur's mood.
George hoped that the person was only Merlin, but that might not come with good news, based on Arthur's earlier mood.
“Fuck you too,” Leon replied quietly, before loudly saying “I trust that his majesty's food will be delivered on schedule,” and turning on his heel.
George smirked, and started walking in the other direction, towards the noises he heard. Leon's chainmail was looking even better than usual. It seemed as though Leon was taking George's lessons about oxidation reactions to heart, by avoiding wearing armor in the rain. Based on the state of armor belonging to other knights in Leon's charge, it seems like he as been instructing others to do the same. While it did take away some of the fun of polishing armor, George did have other responsibilities, and did not have Merlin's pesky magic to make the particularly burdensome tasks faster. Not that he would ever admit this to Merlin. Geroge was pretty sure that Merlin belived George did not know. George was okay with that. He would happily keep Merlin's secret. George did not envy Merlin's task of serving Arthur. He was perfectly happy to serve knights. The knights at least listened when somebody knew what they were talking about. Even if they didn't know exactly why.
Right near the entrance to the secret corridor, George saw the source of the noise. Merlin's wife seemed to be lugging Gwen'-the-weaponsmith's extra-big cart that was totally only for lugging weapons from Gwen's place. However, she seemed to be bent over the cart and whispering to it. Since weapons do not talk, George figured that Arthur made another pass on Merlin. George took a deep breath, straightened out his coat, and ran a finger over his hair, and walked into the corridor to meet Merlin and Freya.
Freya
She was momentarily speechless. She knew that George had history with Merlin, but he was still her boss. Having your superior catch you surreptitiously whisk your husband to some exclusive place in the castle you are not allowed to be in, is never desirable.
George started helping Merlin out of the cart while Freya tried to rearrange her facial features to appear less guilty.
Merlin, while still clearly weak, managed smirk at her and cuff George on the arm, “ Eh— not here, but she can handle it.”
“George, who is Leon?” Freya hesitantly asked, encouraged by Merlin's relative ease, “Lancelot seemed to think I should go to him, rather than our house,” She still thought their home was safer, given all of the magical protections, and access to the ephemeral plane.
Rather than answering, George and Merlin burst into a fit of laughter, much to Freya's confusion.
“He's only the second most powerful man in Camelot,” George finally answered, after catching his breath. He held out a hand to steady Merlin, who was already leaning against the wall, laughter abated. Freya was unsure if George noticed that Merlin's laugher was almost too enthusiastic. When Freya followed Merlin, leaning against his chest, he instinctively wrapped his arm around her waist, and subtly squeezed her hand, reassuring and thanking her. She returned the squeeze, and quickly kissed his cheek in response.
“And here's to me wondering if he was a soldier or a politician. I guess I was right because both?” Freya, says mocking herself. This revelation led to even more questions, but she figured that she might actually get answers this time.
“Anyway, Lancelot told me that I should bring Merlin to him, ” Freya continued, pulling Merlin down a random hallway, nearly forgetting the cart.
“Ahem— I'll take the cart, if you think you know where you are going” George reminded.
Freya blushed, at her uncharacteristic carelessness.
“I assume its also your cover?”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I can take if if you and Merlin lead the way.”
Eventually, George knocked on a door, said “Its me,” and entered closing the door behind him.
Freya eyed Merlin quizzically as he did not just barge in without a care, the way the gossip portrayed him to act.
“It'll be okay, Freya,” Merlin whispered, practically reading her mind.
A moment later, George opened the door, and invited Merlin and Freya into the largest chamber single Freya had ever seen.
Chapter 4: Reflections
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Back to top ↑Gwenivere
The hug from Lancelot was everything she needed. Even when putting on a brave face, his first thoughts were to those around him. When she pulled back and looked into his eyes, she saw that despite his calming demeanor, he was far away. She was unsurprised given the quick transistion from one strenous activity to a completely different kind of stress.
Gwenivere knew that he needed exactly what she did right now. Now that Arthur was away, she kept remembering the feel of Freya's fingers in her hair, and the way she actually asserted what she wanted. There was something unshakably alluring about such a timid woman knowing exactly what she wants. Maybe with Freya, Gwenivere will be able to stop thinking so much…
“Hands behind your head” Gwenivere sharply commanded Lancelot, while removing her shirt. Giving commands to a knight, even if he was barely dressed, still did give her a rush. Even if his hair did not smell of strawberries and fresh spring rain.
Once Lancelot was suitably still, with his butt backed into the table, just enought to provide support Gwenivere started kissing and nipping at him, in all the places she knew he like. She even scolded him when he started to grunt in pleasure. She eventually stood tall, and allowed Lancelot to remove his shirt, while she pulled his trousers to his knees.
“Where were we?” Gwenivere asked cheekily, just before taking the entirity of Lancelot's half-erect manhood into her mouth, massaging his scrotum.
Lancelot knew better than to talk. He would not have been able to say much anyway, as Gwenivere expertly worked her mouth up and down his body, getting each and every secret spot. It did not take long for him to start leaning back on the table, head lolled back, and practically rutting himself down Gwenivere's throat. The erratic gestures grounded Gwen, she felt herself tear up at the over-large intrusion into her throat, while attempting to overcome her gag reflex. While starting to use her free hand to pinch her own nipple, imagining that hand beloging to somebody else, Gwenivere hoped that Lancelot was thinking about Merlin.