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~x~
Something was not quite right. The King of Camelot frowned, squirming deeper into the safety of his bedding. There was sunlight, caressing his face, tempting, or, rather, poking him awake. There was soft shuffling to be heard, coming from somewhere within his chambers as well. But that was it. No loud stomping, no even louder Rise and shine! or Up and at ‘em! or other chirpy nonsense that usually greeted him. There was… just the sun. In his face. And the barely-there shuffling, indicating that the King was not in his chambers alone.
Arthur blinked groggily, poking one eye out from his nest of blankets to assess the situation.
He spotted his manservant immediately - he was leaning over to pick up a discarded tunic. He was leaning over slowly , which could mean one thing and one thing only - The Tavern . Peeved to have been disobeyed yet again (honestly, just how many times should a King need to expressly forbid something for it to stick?), Arthur rose from the bed quickly and quietly before tiptoeing over to where Merlin was dropping the tunic into the laundry basket to be taken care of later.
"Drinking all night again, Mer lin?!" the King bellowed into his ear, making the man jump, and slapped his hand over Merlin's shoulder. The flinch could've been ascribed to the force Arthur had used, but the whimper of genuine pain? The King frowned. He knew his own strength. He knew how hard he could slap his manservant about without crossing from horseplay into actual punishment. No, this was not his doing. Arthur's grip on Merlin's shoulder softened immediately.
"Merlin?" Arthur's frown deepened when his manservant turned around to face him, his movements stiff and stilted. This was not the result of a bender. Arthur's eyes narrowed, a sick feeling sinking like a stone in his stomach. If it was not, in fact, a bender, that would only leave… but, what kind of chores would leave Merlin with...
"Merlin." He knew his tone was harsh. Harsher than warranted, most likely. He also knew, with absolute certainty, that his manservant would wiggle out of what he was about to ask--- order , what he was about to order, otherwise. "Take off your tunic."
Merlin's eyes widened to impossible size and the nervous gulp told Arthur more than the stammered out question his manservant managed.
"S-sire?"
Arthur felt his jaw tense. There was no teasing in the title. No spark of the usual banter.
"Now, Merlin. Do not make me ask again."
Merlin stood before him, frozen, looking like the startled stoat Arthur always accused him of being.
He narrowed his eyes when no motion was forthcoming and reached for the belt that held his manservant's tunic himself.
That seemed to snap Merlin out of whatever stupor he had fallen into. He pushed Arthur's hand away meekly and undid the knots himself, his fingers trembling slightly. He placed the belt on the table slowly, his eyes zooming all over. Searching for a way out, a distraction , Arthur realised with a sinking feeling. And lo and behold, not a second later ---
"What about your breakfast, sire? It'll get cold. You should eat, you've a council session in---"
Arthur reached for the edge of his tunic again, and Merlin choked on the flood of words that was trying to leave his mouth.
"Right then," Merlin muttered defeatedly and gripped his tunic with a deep sigh before pulling it over his head. He couldn't contain a wince the action pulled from him.
Arthur frowned again, opening his mouth to speak, to ask, but then he saw . The sound that left his mouth then was so full of unadulterated rage , Merlin flinched away from him.
Arthur raised a trembling hand to touch, but then he couldn't and it just fell down to his side helplessly, shaking so hard he had to squeeze it into a fist to stop it.
"Arthur…" Merlin started, but Arthur just shook his head, asking for a moment to gather himself in silence. Merlin gave it to him, standing quietly, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. His hand slowly rose to grip his other elbow as he waited, trying not to shiver under the King's gaze.
Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, Arthur spoke, his voice a broken whisper.
"Turn around."
Merlin's eyes were pleading as he looked into the icy gaze of his King. "Arthur, please… "
"Turn. Around." Arthur didn't know what tone his voice had taken, but Merlin sighed and offered no more protests before he slowly, carefully turned around.
Arthur couldn't have stopped the pained gasp even if he had tried. Bruises. Bruises upon bruises covered Merlin's back, his sides and arms. He had thought that the bruising he saw on Merlin's chest was significant enough already, but that had nothing, nothing, on the absolute devastation that was his back. As Arthur stepped closer, carefully observing each patch of black and blue skin, he swallowed down a shudder - Merlin's back was more bruise than the healthy, unblemished skin it was supposed to be.
Some, Arthur noted with rising rage, were going yellow already, like the ones over his nape. The ones that looked suspiciously like fingerprints. His shoulder blades and sides were the worst, harsh deep purple and almost blackened-blue bruises covering every inch. Merlin's arms, shoulder to elbow, showed bruising too, fading already at places, but mostly new. The way he looked, Arthur was surprised he could move, much less come to work.
The King hurt just looking at his manservant, and he was the Knight, the Warrior. He knew what bruises were. He had his fair share of them during training and during skirmishes and during battles for his Kingdom. It was normal. Hell, it was expected. Merlin, on the other hand, was anything but . He was not a fighter. Not a warrior. Not a Knight.
He was supposed to be soft and warm and healthy. He was supposed to whine and berate and make his workload easier with minor magical assistance while Arthur pretended not to notice. He was supposed to be loud and cheerful and energetic and animated…. He was not, not supposed to be more bruise than man.
A low growl tore out of his throat as he finally reached his hand, trembling fingers feathersoft across Merlin's skin.
Merlin let out a questioning little noise, and Arthur's fingers snapped back as if burned.
"Who." It wasn't a question. Arthur wasn't sure he was capable of stringing such a complicated thing together at the moment.
Merlin turned back around and reached for his tunic. Arthur's fingers closed around his wrist, stopping his motion and making him wince a little. Not from pain --- Arthur made sure to hold him gently --- no. Just startled at the unexpected touch.
" Mer lin." The King's voice was soft, quiet. Soothing, if not for the undercurrent of rage, simmering right underneath.
Merlin was biting his lip again and Arthur couldn't stand the thought of yet another bruise forming, however unintentionally. His finger, gently pulling the at said lip, garnered a gasp.
Arthur let his fingers trail over Merlin's full bottom lip and down to his jaw. He held his face in place with two fingers, keeping their eyes locked.
"I will not ask again."
Merlin gulped, a wobbly little smirk pulling at his lips. "Technically, you've not asked to begin with, sire."
Arthur wanted to be pleased at the return of the banter. Instead, all he felt was rage at Merlin's dodging.
"Are you protecting the scum that did this to you?!?" he hissed, absolutely furious with his manservant.
Merlin blinked, floored for a moment before he shook his head with a sigh. "No, I'm not. But it doesn't matter anymore. They'll not do so again. Trust me."
Arthur frowned again and helped Merlin into his tunic when the manservant shivered.
"How can you be certain?" he mumbled under his breath, tying Merlin's belt in place with gentle fingers. "If they're not properly taken care of, who's to say they won't try this again. And hang on, they? As in more than one?"
Merlin huffed, shuffling Arthur gently over to the table and pushing him down to sit. "I'm certain, sire , because dead men cannot do anything anymore, much less stage another attack on the throne. Now eat your breakfast."
Arthur's jaw promptly hit the floor. "What…" he tried, but Merlin's expression said he was done with this conversation. With another huff, Merlin grabbed a muffin and stuffed it into Arthur's mouth.
"Shall I chew for you as well, sir e?"
Arthur watched him thoughtfully as he ate, his mind spinning. Once the muffin was gone, he kicked a chair away from the table and motioned for Merlin to sit. "Eat. You're as thin as a twig. No wonder you got all beat up. No. Arguing."
As a flabbergasted Merlin sat down and filled his plate hesitantly, the King kept his quiet. His mind, meanwhile, was working overtime.
~x~
It took some doing. Some serious talking --- interrogating --- of the Knights and even a few discreet conversations with Gwen, but finally, Arthur managed to piece at least some things together.
One. It was not the first or even the tenth, to Arthur's absolute horror, time that Merlin had gotten hurt in this sort of situation.
Two. He seemed to be more or less the only one that didn't know about this. For all the other things he did know, the thought did not soothe him one bit.
Three. No one could tell him precisely how Merlin had gotten hurt, but the general consensus seemed to be that it had something to do with his, Arthur ’ s , safety. And wasn’t that just a punch to the gut on top of everything else?
Four. Merlin, his bumbling, dimwitted fool of a manservant, that Merlin, seemed to be protecting him. Which, if rumours were to be believed, was going on for years now.
Needless to say, Arthur was beyond furious. And if his fury was mostly directed towards himself and not his lying, protecting his King, manservant? Well.
Still, Merlin continued to be all twitchy, and even though his bruising was lightening fast, what with Arthur pestering Gaius and making sure Merlin had proper salves rubbed into his skin twice daily, he was still weary with the King. And it was driving Arthur up the wall. But needs must. So he kept his distance except for the twice-daily application of the salves (Merlin couldn’t be trusted to do a proper job on his own, now could he) and thus he reigned his temper in and he bided his time.
It all came to a head four days later.
~x~
Arthur was growling --- explaining, thank you very much --- his way through the Knight training when a sudden commotion in the courtyard caught his eye. With a sharp wave of a hand, he sent the Knights to continue on their own before making his way over.
“Sir Gwaine, Sir Lancelot.” Arthur nodded to two of his best Knights, frowning at the guilty expressions on both their faces.
“Sire---” Lancelot started, but, apparently, had no idea how to finish.
“Hiya, Princess, say, where’s Merlin at?” Gwaine pushed his hair back with a roguish grin and moved his mount closer to Arthur. He was trying to cover Lancelot’s horse, Arthur realised. Or, rather, the figure, that was slumped over Lancelot’s saddle. Arthur’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. Gwaine’s smile turned a bit wooden.
“Who’s that? And where have you two been the last couple of days?” he asked, tone light, but eyes fierce and commanding obedience. Lancelot squirmed in his saddle. Gwaine, on the other hand, didn't so much as blink.
“Nothing of import for his royal majesty. As to where we were, we were running an errand for Merlin. Ergo my asking for him. So have you seen---”
“I believe it is my decision whether something is or is not of import to me, Sir Gwaine. So I will ask again. Who. Is. That.” Arthur’s temper flaring, his voice came out harsher than planned. Still, he couldn’t exactly say he was solely responsible for that - Gwaine just… rubbed him the wrong way at times.
Before either Knight could manage a reply, however, a loud exclamation drew their attention to the stairs.
“Ah! Finally, you’re back. Please tell me you’ve good news, otherwise I’ll have to---” Merlin cut himself off and did a double take as he reached the Knights and only then noticed Arthur, who was until then shielded by Gwaine’s mount.
“My lord!” Merlin squeaked, and Arthur’s eyes widened - there was… fear? Was it truly? in his manservant’s eyes. “What are you… aren’t you supposed to be training?” he asked, accusation cutting Arthur deeper than it had any right to do.
“I do not, despite what you may think, answer to you, Mer lin,” the King spat, scowling, and ignored the twinge his heart did at the hurt that flashed through Merlin’s eyes.
“Of course not, my apologies, my lord.” Merlin bowed his head meekly, and it rankled Arthur something fierce - the subservience was just… wrong on his manservant. Before he could fix it, however, Merlin had turned back to the Knights, paying no more mind to his King. “Were you successful?” he asked, voice cool and collected and… demanding. Arthur blinked; he had never heard his Merlin speak like that. With a start, the King realised it suited his manservant. And wasn’t that a thought to sleep on.
“Aye, that we were, Merls. Where you want hi--- it?” Gwaine turned his mount again, blocking Arthur’s view of not only Lancelot’s horse and its cargo, but of Merlin too.
“Tower, if you’d be so kind, Sir Knights.”
Gwaine snorted and Lancelot was sporting an amused little grin at that. Before the King could so much as blink, the two men were gone, leaving him standing awkwardly by the steps, and Merlin, above him, watching them leave for the stables.
“‘An errand for Merlin’ they had called it. Tell me, Mer lin, who are you, to be sending my Knights on errands, hm?” Arthur tried to keep the bitterness from his voice. He had a sinking suspicion that he failed.
It wasn't like he minded Merlin using his Knights. Especially ones that were his friends. What he di d, however, mind was the fact that Merlin did it behind his back. As was per usual when it came to his manservant, granted, but still. It grated, as it always did.
Merlin winced. Took a deep breath, opened his mouth to speak and Arthur just… knew , in his gut, that he was about to be lied to. He had a sinking realization it wouldn’t be the first time, either. It hit him from absolutely nowhere, this… Knowledge, this, certainty , that everything he had found out in the last couple of days was, in fact, true. Before Merlin could break him, however, a sharp call of his manservant’s name sounded from above.
“Merls! Anytime you’re ready, mate!” Gwaine’s voice rang loud and clear from where he had stuck his head out a tower window.
“Be right there, Gwaine!” Merlin hollered back, his eyes still on the King. “I… I have to go now, my lord.”
Arthur took a shuddering breath. He had a choice to make here. He could let Merlin go to Gwaine and his errand . He could do that. But on the other hand, he was just so tired of all the sneaking around. All the lies, all the secrets. All the he’s in the tavern, sire, and all the I overslept, you clotpole, no need to get all cranky! He was tired of black bruises under Merlin’s eyes and his smiles growing dimmer with each passing year. And he was just so tired of pretending that he didn’t… Just how much longer was he expected to wait? No. Enough was enough. He shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving his manservant’s.
“ Sir Gwaine will have to wait, Mer lin. The only place you’re going to right now is my chambers.”
“But, my lo---”
“And if you call me your lord one more time, I swear to the gods, Merlin,” Arthur growled under his breath before grabbing Merlin’s forearm and making for his chambers, pulling his sputtering servant in tow.
~x~
“You have five seconds to start talking. If you don’t, I will,” Arthur said in as calm a voice as he could, the moment the door of the chambers closed. He felt the slight tremble of the wards Merlin had set react to their presence before settling. He contained his eye roll with extreme difficulty - honestly, did Merlin seriously think he was being subtle? But also, he felt like hitting his head against the wall for having been as obtuse as he had been. Menial household chores magic only, really, Arthur? The King thought to himself self-deprecatingly.
“My --- sire, I’m not…”
“Maybe I wasn’t clear enough. When I said start talking, I meant the truth, Mer lin.” He turned to face his manservant and let the royal mask of indifference fall, just for a moment. Just long enough for Merlin to see his weariness. Collapsing into his favored chair, he placed his chin on his fist on the table and held Merlin’s gaze. “For once in your time in my presence, tell me the truth. Please .” The plea he uttered nearly breathlessly, so quiet he wasn’t sure Merlin would hear. Judging from the widening of his eyes, however, he did catch it.
“I…” Merlin started, stopped, swallowed. Then he visibly steeled himself, licked over his lip in nerves, huffed a breath and moved to the table. He sat down before Arthur and clasped his hands in his lap. “What would you like to know, Arthur?”
Arthur took a shuddering breath. “Will you tell me the truth?”
Merlin squeezed his trembling fingers together before nodding. “I will.”
“What errand did you send your Knights on?”
If Merlin noticed the distinction, he didn’t show it. “The… people, who had attempted to kill you… the ones that,” he cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable before continuing, “that, um…”
“Made you black and blue all over?”
Merlin flinched, nodding. “Yes. They had a sorcerer, but he wasn’t the leader. The sorcerer managed to teleport the leader out when they realized things were not going their way. The rest of the men, together with the sorcerer were… taken care of, but that leader… Arthur, that man is dangerous. He would have tried again. But he did not come out… unscathed. Which was why I sent Gwaine and Lance after him. And they brought him back. Alive. That’s where I was going. To interrogate him.”
Arthur nodded. “All right,” he said simply before standing up, the royal mask shielding his thoughts once again. “Where are they?” he asked mildly, beginning to walk towards the door. A hand on his forearm stopped him in his tracks.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Arthur turned back just enough to toss a grim smile over his shoulder. “Where do you think.”
Merlin shook his head frantically, his grip on Arthur’s arm growing harder. “No. No no no, no way. You’re not going to him. He’s dangerous, I---”
Arthur snorted a laugh. “Oh he’s dangerous, huh. But you’re going to interrogate him. Tell me, Merlin, how many men did this dangerous criminal mastermind have?”
Merlin stiffened behind him. Arthur didn’t turn around as he continued. “How many assassins came after me this time? They even had a sorcerer, you said. Tell me, Mer lin, how come no one seemed to have noticed their approach?”
“The…” Merlin stuttered. Stopped.
“Yes?”
“The sorcerer. He hid them.”
Arthur hummed contemplatively. “How many.”
There was a pause then before Merlin breathed his answer, barely above a whisper. “Twelve.”
Arthur made a thoughtful sound. “Twelve men, in the heart of my capitol. And yet, no alarms sounded, no guards were roused. No one noticed. Had it not been for your… condition, I’d never have known at all, would I?” he asked, voice soft, but Merlin stiffened further. His fingers around Arthur’s arm were trembling.
“Arthur, I---”
“How much longer, tell me that, at least,” Arthur interrupted him, biting down on the bitterness as much as he could.
“How much longer what?” Merlin gasped out, his grip on Arthur’s forearm actually starting to hurt.
“How much longer am I expected to wait for you to tell me?” Arthur asked and heard Merlin gasp before his hand fell away. Arthur missed the contact immediately.
It took him a while. Arthur did not turn around, giving Merlin this, at least. Giving him his back, showing him the utmost trust he could.
Finally, Merlin spoke, and his voice sounded raw and his words cut Arthur to the bone. “How much longer am I expected to wait for it to be legal for me to exist then, your majesty?”
Arthur’s blood froze in his veins. Merlin hadn’t yelled, hadn’t even spoken loudly. Yet it felt like he had been hit with a mace. Without saying a word, he stumbled his way to his desk, unlocked the only locked drawer there and pulled out a scroll, signed and adorned with his royal seal. Wordless still, he offered it to Merlin, who took it, apprehension in his every move.
The sound that escaped Merlin as he read could not be classified. His eyes snapped to Arthur when he was done, the scroll trembling in his hands. “What is this?” he gasped out, cheeks flushed and eyes so bright, so full of such unadulterated hope , that Arthur cursed himself thrice over. For waiting, for being as foolish as he had been…
He sighed, ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Exactly what it looks like. I was waiting to make it official. I was hoping I could present it to you together with this,” he handed Merlin another scroll, “once you finally came to me with...well.” He sighed again. “I was a fool to wait. I… Merlin, I am so sorry.”
“This… this makes me…” Merlin breathed and then seemed to lose the rest of his air.
“My Court Sorcerer, yes. If… you’d want it, that is.”
“You… rescinding… ban… Court.. I…”
Merlin, at a loss for words, who woulda thunk , Arthur smiled self-deprecatingly, all I needed to shut him up was… He watched his manservant tremble, watched as tears, big and silent, began streaming down his cheeks.
“You don’t have to...decide now, or anything,” Arthur told him awkwardly, and Merlin’s head snapped up from gazing adoringly at papers to Arthur.
“There’s nothing to decide, you clotpole.”
Arthur knew his face fell, but he couldn’t contain his disappointment. “Oh…”
Merlin rolled his eyes with a snort. “I accept, of course.”
“Really?” Arthur beamed, and Merlin beamed right back.
“Really.”
“Splendid.” Arthur stood back up, reenergized. “In that case, I shall announce it first thing tomorrow. We’ll need to get you a new outfit…” He blinked at Merlin’s scrunched up face and then grinned. “Make that a whole wardrobe. I won’t have my Court Sorcerer helping me rule my kingdom in rags. Now then. I think it’s high time for me to meet this fan of mine…” He started for the door, only to yet again be stopped by a hand on his forearm. This time, however, he turned to look at Merlin fully. “Merlin?”
Merlin was watching him intently, his teeth once again worrying his lip. “Thank you, your majesty,” he said softly, and Arthur started at the genuine emotion coming from the title. “For the honour you’re bestowing me with. I… I have much to tell you.”
Arthur shook his head then. “It’ll keep, Merlin, first the assassin then---”
Now it was Merlin who shook his head, stepping closer to his King. “I have much to tell you. There are a lot of things you need to know, about me and about you and about the prophecies because I don’t, no, I won’t lie to you anymore. Never again. But you’re right, it can keep. All except for…” He caught Arthur’s eyes then and swallowed, his cheeks blooming in pink. Arthur was mesmerized.
“Except for what?” the King whispered, his eyes trained to Merlin’s lips.
“Except for me telling you that I…” He took a deep breath. “I love you, Arthur. I have for a very long time now. I just needed you to know before---”
But Arthur wasn’t listening anymore. There’d be time for words later. Now, well, now he had those tantalising lips to taste. Because now? Now he could. And so he did, leaning in and capturing Merlin’s mouth with his, drawing out a startled gasp from his sorcerer. Arthur hummed, loving the softness of his lips, the faint scratch of his evening stubble, swallowing each and every sound he managed to coax out of him and keeping them for his own. He ran his tongue across the seam of Merlin’s lips, asking for permission, which he received, eagerly, and was met by Merlin’s tongue, teasing against his lips, plundering his mouth in turn. They explored each other, hard and fast and fierce, clinging to one another as if they wouldn't get another chance.
Arthur ran his hands over Merlin’s sides and around his waist, pulling him to his body. He knew Merlin was still healing, still hurt, but he couldn’t help but want to touch him. Maybe, if he were careful and didn’t go overboard...
“I want to taste you,” Arthur gasped into Merlin’s mouth, making his sorcerer give a full body shudder. “Can I? Mer lin? Please ?”
Merlin straight up whined, nodding his head fiercely, his hands spasming on Arthur’s shoulders, making the King grin.
Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees before Merlin, running his hands over his thighs in soothing motions before he reached for the laces of his breeches, undoing them with quick fingers.
Merlin hiccuped out a breath, his pupils blown wide, his cheeks on fire, and he looked so wrecked already, it made Arthur feel dizzy in the best of ways. Good gods but I love him , he thought, breathless and wild at the realization. Some of it must have shone through because Merlin’s eyes softened, and when he carded his fingers through Arthur’s hair, it was a caress, not a demand. “What is it?”
Arthur shook his head; it was far too soon for thinking such things, much less voicing them, he was, after all, the King . “It’ll keep.” He leaned in then, placing his lips over Merlin’s covered length, his eyes still on Merlin’s face. “Now all I want is…” he muttered, pulling Merlin’s breeches down and letting them pool over his boots. “To make you feel …”
Merlin shuddered out a moan, his eyes falling half-closed, and bit his lower lip again, making Arthur crave to be the one doing the biting.
Instead he contented himself with placing a wet kiss to the tip of Merlin's cock. Ran his tongue languidly along the underside, bathing the hot flesh in his saliva, swirling his tongue around the head before giving the slit a slight suck. His eyes shuddered closed at the first taste of salt that leaked out. With a soft humm, the King opened his mouth and pulled the head in, going slowly, savoring each inch.
A strangled groan tore out of Merlin, the fingers in Arthur's hair spasming lightly. "Gods, Ar thur ."
His sorcerer sounded almost broken. Arthur pulled back and took a deep breath, wondering how much it would take to break him completely.
He sent a glance to his sorcerer from beneath his eyelashes and heard a whimper. Smirking, the King leaned right back in, bobbing his head up and down faster and faster.
He slid the fingers of one hand to cup Merlin's sack and roll it gently; all the while sliding the fingers of his other hand further back, to press against his perineum.
Merlin wailed, the stimulation hitting him from all sides hard .
"Ar--- I'm --- Let ---!"
He was probably attempting a warning, but the King just gave him a wink and swallowed . Merlin shattered. So did a pot with flowers that was adorning the dining table. The King of Camelot preened.
It took Merlin a while to come back. Arthur held his sorcerer in his arms, having caught him when his legs gave out and lowering him to the floor. The King was positively gloating - it had been a long while since he'd been with a man, so Merlin being this done? Well, it did things for a man's ego, suffice it to say.
Couple of minutes later, a soft sigh puffed out before Merlin stretched languidly and gave Arthur a slow, content smile.
"Why hello there." The King couldn't help returning it with his own grin.
Merlin looked boneless in his lap, all slow, fluid motion. He radiated calm and relaxation and happiness and it suited him so much. Arthur was determined to keep him like that forever.
Merlin rubbed his face into Arthur's chest gently, humming as he reached up, his lips finding the King's collarbone and mouthing there, his tongue peeking out for a taste. Arthur inhaled sharply - he had been so focused on Merlin, his own arousal had been shoved into the background, left to simmer there, completely secondary. Merlin's easy caresses however, slammed it right back into the forefront.
" Mer lin…" Arthur sighed, leaning back against the side of the bed - they hadn't managed to make it all the way onto it, after all, but Arthur still considered it a win.
Merlin hummed against the skin of his throat, his hand running smoothly over Arthur's chest and down down down , nimble fingers undoing the complex knots of Arthur's laces before slipping inside.
Arthur gasped when those long fingers wrapped around his throbbing erection and squeezed , pulling nice and slow. Merlin alternated between slow and fast, soft and hard, learning what the King liked best, learning Arthur, and Arthur's head was swimming. His skin felt like it was on fire, shivers wracking down his spine.
With a soft whine, he nudged Merlin's head a little, coaxing him up to meet his lips. He moaned into his sorcerer's mouth, and Merlin swallowed his sounds, his pace finally increasing.
They kissed, sloppy and glorious, and Arthur's hands wrapped around Merlin's waist, pulling him closer, unable to stop, unable to stand the distance between them, no matter how small it was.
When Arthur came, it was with Merlin's name on his lips and Merlin's taste in his mouth and Merlin's hand around him. It was the best he had ever had.
~x~
"Convenient, isn't it…" Arthur remarked thoughtfully when Merlin waved a hand, his eyes glowing golden, and their skin turned clean, their clothing became unwrinkled, their hair unruffled. Arthur wondered, mildly, just how much his Merlin was capable of. He guessed he’d get to find out soon enough. He couldn’t wait. Merlin blushed --- always a pretty sight, Arthur noted with a slightly besotted smile --- and offered the King a sheepish grin.
"I couldn't very well let you into an interrogation looking all…"
"Debauched?" Arthur offered and smirked when Merlin's blush deepened. "Ravaged?" He took a step closer and pulled Merlin flush against him. "Positively fucked out?"
Merlin whined, pushing against his chest, his cheeks flaming.
"Stop it, you utter clotpole!"
Arthur threw his head back in a laugh. "Why, can't handle it, Mer lin?" His voice was a purr, and Merlin's breath hitched. His eyes were wide, his mouth was open slightly, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to take him straight to bed.
As if reading his King's thoughts, Merlin gave him another shove to the chest. "Enough. We have to go, now. There's that assassin to interrogate. I need to know what his plans were. If you'd rather wait for me here, however…"
Arthur scoffed and motioned for Merlin to go with a flourish. "After you, my Court Sorcerer." Privately, Arthur had decided that he'd never grow tired of making his Merlin blush. With a bitten down grin, he followed his sorcerer out of what would soon be their --- Arthur would make sure of that --- chambers and up to the tower where the prisoner was being held.
~x~
Once outside the door, however, Arthur stopped Merlin with a hand on his shoulder.
"It's just in there; why are you stopping me? Arthur?" Merlin asked, turning his worried gaze to his King.
Arthur was torn. On the one hand, he wanted Merlin there, wanted for him to be able to confront the man who had been the cause of such hurt for him. On the other, though… he really, really wanted to talk to this man one on one. His inner conflict must have shown on his face for Merlin gave him a measured look and turned to face him fully.
"Arthur." He ran his hands over his King's chest and hooked them around his neck. "Look at me, please." When Arthur met his gaze, he couldn't stop himself from gasping - for the first time in, probably, ever, Merlin looked utterly and completely open . Arthur looked at him, gorged himself on the openness of his sorcerer and then smiled.
"Together, then. But, Merlin… I---"
Merlin leaned in and placed a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. When he pulled away, there was a small, private smile on his lips. "Even the sun has dark spots, sire . Luckily for you, I am not afraid of darkness. Why don't you show me yours, for I shall definitely reveal mine to you after this is done."
Arthur kissed him as a reply.
They entered the tower room together.
~x~
"There you are! We damn near started without you." Gwaine was smiling, but there was caution in his eyes and tension in his shoulders. Lancelot held his quiet, but there was a frown marring his forehead as well.
"We'll take this from here. You're dismissed."
The Knights gaped at their King, even as Arthur added a quick head tilt towards the doors, signaling them out.
Gwaine sputtered, but Lancelot's hand on his forearm stalled his upcoming rant. "Your Majesty… pardon my insolence but…"
Merlin sent a look at the Knights then, and it must have been a Look, for after seeing it they exchanged one more quick glance before bowing and turning towards the doors.
"If you need us, we'll be right outside," Lancelot said with a firm nod, and Merlin returned it. Arthur didn't seem to notice, his focus solely on the man, tied up on a chair in the middle of the room.
"Punch him from me too, yeah? Merlin had given us strict orders to bring him back unharmed you see." At the quiet words in his ear, Arthur sent Gwaine a quick glance and nodded once. Gwaine slapped him on a shoulder before following Lancelot outside without any more objections then.
Only when the door clicked closed behind the Knights did the King speak again. "Now then." Arthur's voice was soft and smooth, yet it carried through the otherwise silent chambers. "You and I are going to have a little chat."
~x~
Merlin had never seen his King like this before. Yeah, sure, he’d seen Arthur in battle. Seen him cutting through throngs of enemies like it was nothing. He’d seen his King’s anger, his reaction to betrayal, his sorrow. He’d seen his rage.
This, however? This, cold, icy fury, that was radiating from his King in waves? Merlin shivered, scolding himself internally - he needed to focus, they were here for information. It was no time and certainly no place to be getting all hot and bothered watching his King interrogating the lead assassin.
Merlin gulped. And tuned back in. He held back a whimper at his King’s tone. Barely. Then he heard his words.
“ I am a Knight of the realm and the leader of my people. I have been trained to kill since birth . I know how many bones there are in your body, and I know exactly how much pressure it will take to break each.and every.one.”
Merlin gave up on holding the whimpers back.
~x~
The door opened and a dazed looking Merlin stepped out. A satisfied looking Arthur followed, wiping his hands clean on a dark red cloth.
“Your Majesty?” Lancelot asked when Merlin offered nothing and just sort of… leaned into the King’s side, his eyes still mostly vacant.
Arthur glanced at his manservant and smirked before wrapping an arm around his waist. “You can transport the prisoner into the cells. Keep him chained; he is a trained assassin, thus highly dangerous even… even in the condition I’ve left him in.”
“Princess?” Gwaine hummed, waving a hand in front of Merlin. Merlin puffed out a tiny snort and snuggled into Arthur’s neck. “What… happened in there?”
Arthur’s smirk grew. “Interrogation, Sir Knight. I will need you to call for a war council, first thing in the morning - there’s an army of Saxons marching on us, apparently. So, first thing tomorrow ---” He was interrupted by a soft whisper in his ear, which he leaned into immediately. “Ah that’s right, thank you, love. Second thing tomorrow, we convene a war council. First thing is the rescinding of the magic ban and your new appointment, isn’t it?”
Merlin nodded into Arthur’s neck, his hands tightening around his waist before he spoke. “Aren’t you done with the order giving yet?”
His voice was finally growing in strength somewhat, and the Knights who had been standing there gaping snapped out of their stupor and opened their mouths to, no doubt, ask Questions.
But then Merlin continued and instead of speaking, both Knights promptly lost their jaws to the floor. “Because I think you should be done. I think you should be taking me to bed now.”
Arthur’s smirk grew yet again. “As my sorcerer commands.”
War would wait. Startled Knights would too. A lover who was wanting and willing and there, in his arms? Healthy and rosy cheeked and whispering filth in his ear? Well. What kind of a King would he be, if he didn’t know how to prioritize?
~x~