Work Header

Immortal Blood

Chapter Text

To everyone who has been waiting for a long time for me to post, my sincere apologies. Shit happens, y'know? I am currently trying to refresh my brain on this story as well as go through and fix some minor and many, many major mistakes within this story. I do have a few new chapters coming on the 5th of November, (which will be posted AFTER I watch V for Vendetta). 

Also, a few updates:

  • Do not go to the links on any of the stories posted - they are all inactive. I am going through and removing them, but let me know if I forget one!
  • I still do not have a Betta, but I do my best. If I end up missing something, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. 
  • For the Chapters I have gone through and re-read/fixed/edited I will put it at the notes in the BEGINNING of that chapter. 
  • I'm terrible at spelling, even with spell check. You have been warned. 
  • I am updating Chapter Titles
  • I will put in notes when/if there any major chapter detail/plot changes. I will do my best to keep the bases of the story the same, but sometimes things just don't fit and need to be a little tweeked. 

Again, I am terribly sorry it's been over a year since I have done anything with this. 

But fret no longer, the story must go on!


Much Love,


Chapter Text

The room was quiet as the students had their heads buried inside the books in their small, feeble, human hands. Professor Emrys was sitting at his desk, legs propped at the top, crossed at the ankles as he too, held a book in his hand, face buried in it. The room was, for the most part, soundless other than the students who seldom checked their phone or the soft sound of turning pages. The door to his room was opened, in stepping a golden-haired boy wearing sweatpants and a large sweatshirt, all disheveled and not matching as if he were rushed. Professor Emrys looked up from his book, first checking his wrist watch, noting the time: 09:15a – the boy was 30 minutes late. The Professor sighed and met the eyes of the boy, “Mr. Pendragon, you are late,” he said before looking back down to his book.

“Yeah, long night, sorry,” the young man said with a prideful smirk on his lips as he walked to his desk.

The Professor looked up and watched Arthur walk up the stepped aisle to his seat in the far back of the room. He admired the way the boy’s ass looked in his sweatpants, the cloth clinging to his glutes as though their life depended on it. The professor thought to himself, “Very nice, indeed." It was a pity the boy never seemed to show up on time or for very long. He was a partier and being the star of Camelot University’s football team, he was always showing off or smart mouthing anyone and everyone, including the Professor. The professor really wanted to teach him manners, or at least how to speak to his elders without being a prat the entire time. Call the professor old fashioned, but that’s how he was:  very old and very old fashioned. There was also the matter of who Arthur was: A Pendragon. Specifically, the son of Uther Pendragon, the one man set out to kill everyone like the Professor, which meant Arthur would be taught as such. No matter, he was still very lovely.

Professor Emrys finished his chapter before speaking to the entire class, “Okay everyone, I would like you to finish up the next three chapters in Bram Stockers Dracula before next class. There will be a quiz before the discussion so be ready for that. You’re dismissed,” he stood from his black leather rolling chair, closing the novel and placing it on the desk. “Arthur, stay for a moment, please,” the Professor looked up at the boy who was attempting, terribly, at making his way, sluggishly down the steps. The professor nodded once Arthur huffed and sat a few rows back, before he turned towards the chalkboard behind him and began to write. He wrote for a few moments, allowing the few strays to make their way out of the room and into the hallway. Once the room became silent once more, the scraping of the chalk the only sound left, Arthur spoke, breaking the tension that had accumulated, more so because Arthur stirred in his seat uncomfortably.

 “Look, Professor, I can’t really stay, I have practice in like an hour and I’m helping out with the freshman team beforehand,” he began, but the professor didn’t pay much attention to his excuse.

Still facing the chalk board, the Professor said, “I will let your coaches know that I held you back because you are failing my class, one that you needed, last I checked.” He stated matter-of-factly.


The professor heard a large sigh escape the young boy’s lips and when he turned from the board, he saw him running a hand though his golden hair. “Why did you need me?”

Professor Emrys stepped around his desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest, “To help you understand that if you continue to skip my class, and continue to fail it, your coaches will have no choice but to put you on a suspension since my class is the only academic class you have this semester.”

The boy sighed again, “Whatever,” he mumbled.

The professor pushed off the edge of his desk, a little irritated at the prattish child. Before making his way to Arthur, who sat slumped in the desk chair, the Professor grabbed his copy of Dracula and laid it on the desk with more force than necessary, “Read this to help catch up. Chapter ten is where you are going to stop,” he glared at Arthur.

Arthur picked up the worn book in his hands and smirked, “Dracula? Seriously?”

“Mm, quite; this is a Mythology Studies, Arthur. We start with Vampire and end with Vampire, from fiction to facts. Read it.” Professor Emrys said down to the smirking child. Arthur wasn’t a child, probably twenty-two or twenty-three, but he still acted like a child, therefore, Professor Emrys thought he should be described as a child.

“You want me to read this in two days?” he returned the glare.

“It’s only ten very short chapters, Arthur. You will survive,” he turned away from Arthur, “Now get out of my classroom. I wouldn’t dare want you to be late for practice,” he once again grabbed chalk from the chalk trey and watched the disheveled Arthur grab the book and slide from his desk and towards the door. “And Arthur, don’t lose my book. It’s very old,” the professor said as Arthur walked out of the room, who only gave him an aggressive eye-roll before disappearing down the hall.

The professor didn’t stay much long after his students had left; he wrote some things on the chalkboard, checked the room for any forgotten items or trash and then left. It was the late morning at this point, which was nice as he didn’t teach anymore classes the rest of the day. His plans were simple: go to his home for a bit, shower, do some light reading, go on a run with his dog, and then meet up with Gaius since it was his birthday and take him to a nice, well deserved outing. He did have to go speak to Arthur’s football coach along with a few other students’ band directors and teachers, so they too could fix their grades or make up things they hadn’t done. The professor was very different from most of the other professors at Camelot University. He allowed students to make up work and he tried to get them to care about their grades and fix them if they needed to. He didn’t only teach Mythology Studies, but also an advanced class on Viking History, Literature and Creative Writing, and he even taught Violin, but not more as a tutor than a teacher for that.

The professor first went to one of the band directors and gave them the pass for their student and then to a psychology professor and did the same. He had gone to a total of five professors before making his way to the football coach’s office where he was to give him the pass for Arthur. It would be for every Tuesday after class until his grade goes up, but when he arrived at his office, he was surprised to find Arthur inside talking to the coach, “Coach, someone has been stealing our equipment,” Arthur said when Professor Emrys stepped inside.

He raised his hands and took a step back, “Sorry, am I interrupting?” He said smiling a bit.

“Oh! Never Professor, what can I do for you?” the coach stood from his chair and walked towards the professor, his hand outstretched.

The professor took his hand and shook it, completely ignoring the shocked look on Arthur’s face. “I wanted to give you this,” He held out the paper to the coach, “It’s for Mr. Pendragon here, so he doesn’t get suspended,” He finished looking at Arthur whose forehead was damp with sweat and his uniform grass stained.

The coach took the slip of paper with a smile, “Of course; picked a good day too, Tuesday’s the players get off,” He smiled and glanced at Arthur briefly, who still had a look of shock on his face.

“Wonderful, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Arthur, yes?” He smiled at Arthur before turning to leave Arthur in his growing cloud shock. He left the campus after that and went to his flat for the rest of the night, after calling Gaius to arrange plans for that evening.




Professor Emrys walked down the corridor to his class room, his violin case in hand. He wasn’t really paying attention to his surroundings as he looked at the bright luminescent screen on his mobile, reading through emails from students about them having to miss class or to turn in late work or just ask simple questions about the topic they were discussing and there was even a few from other professors about a few students missing class or about a history seminar coming up. So, he didn’t really notice the student standing in front of his door until he looked up and practically ran into him. “Arthur?” He asked realizing who he was as he leaned against the steel door. “It’s Tuesday morning at 7 a.m., Mr. Pendragon,” He said unlocking the door, completely side stepping the boy, practically ignoring the gravitational pull Arthur’s body had on him. Arthur followed close behind as the Professor turned the class room lights on, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He made his way towards his desk and sat the violin case on it.

He heard the soft steps of Arthur following suite, but soon fading into silence as the boy stood at the Professors desk, “I can’t do Tuesday afternoons,” he stated.

The professor laughed softly, “Why is that? You don’t have practice on Tuesday afternoons,” he shook his head, still laughing when he turned to face him. “Unless you’re here to tell me that you’ve ‘changed’, and you’re ‘going to stop skipping my class and start caring for once’?”

Arthur was just standing there, his hands in his jean pockets, his backpack pressing against his strong shoulders, causing his graphic tee to tighten around his fit chest and biceps. Lovely, the professor thought to himself. “I’m here to tell, well ask, if we could do this tutoring thing or whatever on Tuesday morning’s instead of afternoons?”

“Why? if I might ask?” the Professor crossed his arms over his chest.

“Because I like my Tuesday afternoons to do nothing; it’s my break time, I’d like to keep it as such.”

“Alright, mornings it is, but I play the violin in the mornings, so get used to hearing it when you’re in here,” he turned to open the violin case on his desk. “Have you read any of Dracula yet?” he asked, pulling the bow from its place in the purple velvet followed by the black instrument.

“Yes...why the hell is your violin black?” The professor turned towards Arthur, the violin in hand.

“It was a gift from an old friend a long time ago,” he smiled, remembering when Gaius gave him the violin on Christmas. “How far have you gotten?”

“The first line.”

The professor rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Then you will be reading until my first class starts today,” the Professor rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to just above the elbows while watching Arthur walk to a seat in the front row and pulled out the first edition copy of Dracula.

He opened the cover, glanced over the page and looked up at the professor who had already placed the violin under his chin, “Who is Merlin?” his question was abrupt and almost shocking.

The professor sighed and took the violin from under his chin, “Me,” he gave Arthur a small half-smile.

“That’s impossible,” Arthur stood and carried the book when he walked towards the professor. “This,” he placed it on the desk, opened to the front inside cover that was covered with old cursive lettering. The professor looked at the writing and shrugged his shoulders before putting the violin back under his chin. “You can’t be Merlin because this,” he pointed, “is dated 1895, two years before the book was actually published, and the fact it is dated 200 years ago is impossible. You can’t be Merlin.”

The professor laughed, “It is dated 120 years ago, Arthur, not 200, first-of-all,” he began, “Second, I never claimed to be that Merlin, just that my name is Merlin,” He said looking at the confused Arthur. “How did you know when Dracula was first published?”

“It’s my ex’s favorite story,” Arthur shook his head and looked over at the professor who was looking off to the back of the room. “So, what are the chances that you own a book from 120 years ago, that happens to also have your name in it, both first and last might I add?”

“Arthur, did it ever occur to you that people pass down the names of fathers to sons?” he saw Arthur shake his head, “Read, Arthur, now.” Arthur sighed and walked back to the desk, knowing he had been defeated, and began to read. The professor put the violin back under his chin and put the bow to the strings and ran it across, tuning it before playing.

As he played, he noticed Arthur glancing up at him and then back to the pages, more than forcing a soft smirk to cross his lips. The professor fell into tune with the violin, the vibrations running through his chin and fingers like lightning hitting the rivers of blood, filling him with the music. Time flew by, minutes morphing into seconds, before he heard a shuffling in the room. It was enough of a disturbance in the air to silence his bow; he looked up. It was Arthur, picking up his phone that must have fallen or buzzed in his pocket. Arthur gave the professor a kind, innocent smile, before placing his eyes back on the old, yellowed pages of the book.

The room was filled with the tune from the Professors violin, the electrifying wings encompassing both Arthur and the Professor in a soft kiss of song and flesh. Time began to fly again, at least for the Professor. This first meeting was nice. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to get to know the boy in front of him, the real Arthur Pendragon, not the façade that masqueraded around in his flesh day-to-day in order to keep his namesake honorable and true. He was a jock, a Pendragon. That name and title gave him, whether he wished it, a set of unspoken rules to be played, and oh, Arthur played them well. He was however, simply a marionette in the game of popularity and first class. The real Arthur could not be shallow, so cold and self-absorbed. There was more to the mask the blonde bore every day. The Professor was determined to figure him out.

The Professor glanced at his watch, an hour and a half had passed. “Arthur, you can be done for the day.”

Arthur glanced up and smiled, “Sweet, thanks,” Arthur quickly put the book into his bag, zipped it up, and put it over his shoulder. “You’re very good at that,” he gestured towards the violin the professor was placing back into its velvet case.

“I should be for as long as I’ve played. Nowhere near as good as someone like Paganini but still good,” he said clipping the case shut.

Arthur smiled and looked as if he were going to speak but didn’t. He simply gave another look at the professor again before making his way towards the door and disappearing down the hall. As soon as he left, the students for the Professors first class came strolling in, most silent and on their phones, others talking in a group of only two. Professor Emrys was distracted the rest of the day with the thought about how Arthur reacted when he saw the note Bram himself left him and the reaction of his name being written in it. Then again, he had never lent his book to anyone before, so he wasn’t sure how he would react if he paid attention enough to truly see it. Still, he thought it was a reaction that most students would not have had, he would think. He didn’t pay much mind to it, but it still bothered him, that he would confront Arthur about. Would have, if not for Gaius strolling into his class, whispering to him:

“Merlin, we have a serious problem.”

Chapter Text

Merlin sighed as he looked down at the slip of paper Gaius had handed him not ten minutes before. It was a list of names, specifically names of professors Uther Pendragon planned on investigating at the University. The paranoid man was always assuming the vampire had infiltrated his university. That was no surprise to Merlin, however, his name being the fourth on that list was a surprise. Merlin, to his knowledge, was the most unsuspecting person on campus. But, the paranoid can find out the most darkest and most hidden of secrets.

Merlin ran a hand through his raven hair and looked up at the clear, star filled night sky. There was no moon to muddy the brightness of each star, dazzling in their own unique colors and waves. God it was beautiful. Merlin loved the night, not just because of what he was, but because of the vastness of the sky and how small he felt when he gazed upon the god like creation.

He was walking down one of the sidewalks that traversed the campus, winding through the small park area and past the football fields. It was lined with trees and bushes, even flowers that filled Merlin’s nose with the earthy scent of each individual plant. It also provided cover for small creatures and people even; he once caught two snogging behind one of the hedges near the sports locker rooms. This night, however, Merlin found no such person or thing other than the one moth or bat that made their way near him.

It wasn't until he passed a small clearing that he saw the shadowed silhouette of a boy kicking a ball between his feet as he sat on a bench, hands pressed firmly on the insides of the jacket he was wearing; the sound of music drifted inside Merlin’s curious ears. In being the curious man he was, he slithered from the path and towards the boy. He knew who he was before actually being able to see his face; he would always know where Arthur was, what he was doing. His scent was to intoxicating , too addictive for him not to. Still, there was a  small shock to see Arthur there, sitting alone in the quiet of the night, being quiet. Merlin noticed the soft streaks that trekked down his face, remnants of the once flowing tears that Arthur had shed. Why had he been crying?

Merlin placed a hand on one of the boy’s shoulders. Arthur he jumped, startled at the sudden disturbance but once his eyes met Merlin’s his body became less tense. He pulled one of the white earbuds from his ear, still buzzing with music, “Professor?” His face was in question and curiosity as to why his professor was out so late.

“Hello, Arthur,” he said softly, inviting himself to sit next to the boy, the black, rusted metal bench creaking at the sudden amount of extra weight being forced upon it.

“What are you doing out so late?”

“I could ask the same of you, Mr. Pendragon. It is, after all, past campus curfew, even if you do not live on campus,” he glanced at Arthur before leaning back, his eyes making there way back to the stars.

“I came out here to think,” Arthur didn’t need to look at Merlin for him to know that his face was sad, his words sad, his entire being sad.

“About?” Merlin asked feeling the pain in Arthur’s voice hit him in the gut like swords just pulled from the flame.

“Family,” He looked at Merlin this time, but only for a brief moment and one Merlin could only catch from the corner of his eye. “Why are you out here?”

Merlin sighed, not out of being tired or annoyance, or really anything, he just...sighed. “I was having a talk with an old friend who stopped by my class,” he replied honestly, glancing down at the piece of folded paper that lay safely in his trouser pocket.

“Must have been good for you to be here so late,” Merlin turned to look at Arthur whose face was no longer in so much pain, the faint hint of a cocky smile possessing his plump pink lips.

“I would not have called the conversation good, but it an informative one at least,” he returned Arthur's smile.

“You getting fired?” Arthur asked cocking an eyebrow slightly, smirking at his own words. He was purposefully trying to get a reaction from the Professor, but the reaction he was yearning for would never come.

“It could be a possibility I suppose. I hadn’t really thought about it,” Merlin shrugged his shoulders, having not actually thought that he could, in a sense, be fired.

“Father is doing an investigation of a handful of professors in the coming days,” he looked down at his hands, “You’re of them," he looked at Merlin then, "Is that why your friend came to speak with you?” Merlin was surprised at the forthcoming of Arthur's words. Why did Arthur feel it okay to tell him about his father's investigation? Not many of the professors knew about the investigation, and those who did know did not share the detail with anyone for fear of being fired. Though, they didn't know the real reason for the investigation. 

Merlin mulled over the question, unsure if he were telling him or questioning him. Arthur must know about his father’s plan and suspicions and surly Arthur was to feel the same as his father, with the suspicions? He had, after all, seen his full name in a book dated back 120 years ago, and his reaction was very odd. But since it’s an investigation, that means they were only looking for evidence, so Merlin had time to find a way to fly under the radar of the Blood Hunters. It shouldn’t be hard, Merlin had done it since the first Blood Hunters came into existence. “Are you asking or telling?”

“Both,” his answer was again honest and true.

“Do you know why your father is investigating a handful of professors here at Camelot University?” Merlin asked softly, looking the young boy in the eyes. Arthur nodded his answer.

They both sat there in silence for a long while, their breaths filling the space between them, the sound of Arthur’s music filling night air. Arthur was eventually the first to speak again, “Will he find anything?”

Merlin took in a deep breath and released it, as he thought about what and how to respond. He didn’t want to lie to the boy, probably due to the fact he fancied him, or maybe because he just hated lying. Then again, telling the truth could get him hunted for a long time, sending him away from Camelot, from Europe, never settling, always running. He could find himself being hunted by Arthur which would inevitably get Arthur killed, despite the attraction he feels towards the boy. He shook his head, leaving the space between them silent, and awkward, their unsure breathes silent, yet audible just the same. “No,” he finally said truthfully, because Uther would find nothing.

Merlin has lived longer than any living thing on this planet, from the creatures in the sea forgotten in time, those still yet to be discovered by the modern man; longer than the trees that survived war and apocalypses and end times of entire races. He’s learned how to hide, how to fade in the cracks of time, to become invisible. If he needed, he would become invisible again; he would disappear for a few centuries, hiding or hibernating. He has learned all too well how to hide who and what he is. It came naturally now, after all of this time on the planet. Despite his knowing how, he also knew how to not hide, and not seem as prey to those who hunted him, to act human, to act against his natural actions. “He will find something, he always does,” Arthur said breaking the thoughts of the professor.

“No, Arthur, he won’t.” Merlin looked at Arthur, his eyes piercing the golden haired boy’s eyes. His answer was brash, a low growl slipping through his. He did not mean to be so aggressive, or maybe he did? Arthur, in his coded language and words, needed to understand the clarity, and non-coded words of his professor. 

“Don’t be quick to undermine him. He's the best at what he does.”

“And so am I,” he snapped, brazen once more.

Arthur shook his head, “Is it true then? You are what he suspects of you of being?”

Merlin had to think about his response before he actually spoke. He knew, clearer than a perfectly blue sky in the Midwest of the United States, what Arthur was asking him. So, Merlin simply nodded his reply, unable to find the right words, lost in maze of his mind. Arthur's face became drained of all emotion, even the overwhelming emotion of pain, the pain that stained his cheeks with dried salty rivers ceased to exist on his cheeks.

“Morgana is...” his voice cracked softly, the sadness finding its way through, "like you."

“Your sister, I assume?” Arthur nodded. “How long?”

“A few years now, before Father wanted me to become him,” his eyes filled with tears, though too shy to break the dam of his blue eyes.

“That is why you’re out here, yes? Thinking about family and how you do not wish to betray either of them and their beliefs or who they are?” Arthur turned his face away from the professor, looking out ahead of them. “We are not all as bad as your father thinks we are, Arthur. You must know that, after knowing your sister has been what she has been for two years.”

“I can’t kill her,” Arthur said, his voice a shaky whisper. “Father doesn’t know she is, not yet at least. He is too blinded by his love for her to allow himself to see it, but he will, one day," a single tear rolled down his cheek. "He told me, when I was a kid, he told me that no matter who they are: brother, sister, lover, mother, father, I would still have to kill them. 'They are no longer family. They are evil, and we are here to help fight the evil', he would say,” Arthur released a half-laugh.

“Yet you haven’t killed your sister, have you?”

Arthur sighed and ran a shaky hand through his blonde hair, “Or you.”

Merlin laughed, softly, and only a few seconds, “Arthur, you couldn’t kill me if you tried.”

Arthur looked at Merlin, “You doubt my capability?” His tone was challenging, but Merlin didn't mind. He was just happy to see him slowly shaking off the shell of betrayal from his perfect flesh.

“No, not at all. I’m sure you’re very capable of killing, just not me,” he returned the playful, yet challenging tone back to Arthur. “I am far too old and experienced, Arthur.”

“Old? Please, you look twenty,” He gave an eye roll, his face slowly lighting up.

“Are you flirting with an old man Arthur Pendragon?” Merlin smiled at him.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders, “You don’t look old, Professor.”

“Looks can be deceiving, Arthur,” he smiled. “And please, don’t call me professor; call me Merlin, or Emrys if you wish, just not professor when outside of the class.”

He and Arthur didn’t speak for a eternity after that, so long that Merlin’s body had become stiff and uncomfortable on the bench they sat on. They would have stayed like that, silent and stiff, if it weren’t for campus security riding by on one of their carts and stopping when they had seen the two sitting there in their silent bubble. They asked them what they were doing outside past campus curfew. Merlin lied, though he was against it, but he had done it for Arthur, telling them he was one of the visiting Astronomy professors and this was his student and that they were outside watching and calculating the movements of the stars. The guards nodded when Merlin showed him his I.D. then they left. Soon after, he and Arthur did too, walking together on the path that mapped the entire campus like a hard river of stone and cracks. “

“Arthur?” His professor said, breaking their ever silent silence.

“Yes?” He responded, his hands deep within the pockets of his shorts, Merlin had only just noticed the boy wearing.

“Why do you not believe as your father believes about the likes of me?”

“I don’t know. If it weren’t for Morgana, I probably would believe as he does, and not seen him for who has become,” Arthur was truthful in his words, words that sent chills down Merlin’s spine.

“But why? Love only goes so far, and humans give into fear quicker than they give into their love for someone,” Merlin glanced at Arthur’s face, allowing his eyes to travel down his body until reaching the ground in front of him and leaving them there, as they walked in the night.

Arthur sighed, but didn’t speak for a few moments, probably thinking about a response, or thinking about why he did not believe as his father. “I’ve seen how my sister has acted for two years. She’s never killed anyone or almost killed anyone. She’s cautious and honest and still a good person, despite her affliction.”

“An odd choice of words,” Merlin had never thought about who he was as being an affliction. Though, Merlin was unlike the others of the world. He was born who he was, not bitten.

“I see the pain, the suffering it causes her everyday as she fights the monster within herself. She calls it her monster, the thing that is always there, telling her to kill and hurt everyone she loves or gets close to. I see that, she tells me about that.”

Merlin nodded, “I couldn’t imagine what that must feel like.”

“Aren’t you one of them?” Arthur cocked an eyebrow at Merlin, as if what he had just said was stupid or unreal or unbelievable.

Merlin wasn’t too concerned for his look as he was too deep in thought about the sister of Arthur. Morgana must have a teacher, someone helping her control herself, but who? Or is she lying to her brother, so as to not hurt him? Merlin had to know, he must understand how one so young can resist her natural urges. “Arthur, who is your sister’s mentor?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. She joined a “Civil Coven” after her first night, when they found her. She never told me where, though, why?”

Merlin nodded and sighed, “Makes since, most recently turned forget the events of their turning for a long time, sometimes hundreds of years.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said stopping to face Merlin who was completely shocked at the sudden change of Arthur’s tone, it going low and stern, “Answer my question.”

“Because I found it odd that your sister had found such good control? it was merrily curiosity.” He had said in a questioning tone, stopping a few feet ahead of Arthur.

Arthur quickly interjected, keeping Merlin from speaking again, or even moving. “Not that question.” His eyes had become slits, as though Merlin was a small child caught in a lie.

“The, ‘Are you not one of them?’ question?” Arthur nodded. “I am, but I am not. I was born not bitten, Arthur. There are no others that have walked the face of the Earth that are like me. So, yes, and no.” He answered, speaking slow and clear, meeting the eyes of the surprised looking Arthur.

“How old are you, then?”

Merlin smirked, “Old enough.”

“That all you’re going to tell me?” Arthur asked, slightly annoyed by the shift of weight from foot to the other and small clench of his jaw.

“Yes,” Merlin replied.

“Do you tell your girlfriends that same ominous age?” Arthur smirked.

“I don’t date women, Arthur, nor I have I ever, and secondly,” Merlin began. “I do not lie to my lovers or those I hold close, though most are not human. What’s the point in falling in love with someone that will slowly age and waist away while you stay young and alive?” As the words flew from Merlin's lips, it felt like a kick in the face because only then, for the first time since he had known the young boy, had he realized that he was beginning to fall for a human, a boy who was one day going to die of old age if he isn’t killed beforehand and that thought made Merlin sick, his blood going cold and stagnant in his eternal veins.

Arthur nodded, “Me too,” His voice was soft, like he was trying to tell a secret that was not a secret, but something he felt should be a secret, or maybe he became shy at the thought of speaking it allowed to someone who was an almost stranger? Merlin didn't dwell on it too much.

“Don’t date humans?” Merlin laughed knowing what Arthur meant, but wanted to keep him from being shy and awkward.

“You know what I mean,” He rolled his eyes and they both spilled out into laughter, laughter that formed into silence.

Through that silence, they both began to walk again, aimlessly, not really a destination set into mind. They eventually found themselves near the parking lot, Merlin’s car being the only one other than Arthur’s BMW, with a body of a sports car, expensive and fast. Merlin’s car was just as expensive and fast, though it was no BMW, or Mercedes, or a European car at all: It was an American Muscle car, a 2015 Mustang Boss 302, practically a racing car, though Merlin was not one for street racing, despite his need for speed. He loved the car, and after getting imported from America and after adding a few grand into making his car, it was worth the same as Arthur’s, if not more with the added engine upgrades, the full body kit, the air ride suspension...

“Merlin, that is your car?” Arthur asked completely shocked.

Merlin smirked and began walking towards the vehicle, “Are you surprised?”

“It’s American,” he said nodding and approaching the Mustang alongside Merlin.

“Yes, it is, and directly imported from America too,” Merlin laughed pulling the keys from his pocket, the same pocket the slip of paper was folded in, it falling out and floating to the ground. “Do not judge my taste in cars.”

Arthur picked up the paper and naturally, he unfolded it, reading over the names, his eyes faltering on what Merlin suspected to be his. He sighed and handed it to Merlin, who took it as he opened the door to his car. “I’m not, I’m just surprised is all. Who knew you had money?” He chuckled looking into the car, a gasp leaving his lips.

“I have lived a long time, Arthur.”

“She a standard?” Arthur asked looking back at Merlin who was leaning against the body of the car, letting Arthur get a better look inside at his black leather seats, the young boy running his fingers over the neon green stitching.

“Of course,” Merlin said crossing his arms over his chest.

“Very nice,” He pushed off the body of the car and faced Merlin, who smiled and followed the slow motions of Arthur as he shifted to a comfortable position again. He brought his eyes up to meet his Professors, “Well, I suppose I should go? Security at my flat is intense because of my father, so I should check in before he gets and entire army sent to find me,” Arthur said forcing a casual laugh to form in his mouth and escape into the cool night air.

“Suppose you’re right, it is getting late isn’t it?” Merlin looked at his watch after pulling up his dark purple suite shirt sleeve.

When he looked up from his watch, Arthur had filled the space between them with his body, Arthur’s breath brushing against Merlin’s face, Merlin’s breath brushing against Arthur’s, both of their blue eyes locking together. Arthur’s pink lips were opened slightly, more than forcing Merlin to view them, his eyes finding a vein just under his bottom lip. His eye's began tracing the vein down his neck and underneath his shirt. When Merlin felt the soft, shaking touch of Arthur’s hand on his arm, his eyes broke from the delectable vein and back into his beautiful blue eyes, dark and bright at the same time. They stood like that for a moment, Arthur’s hand on Merlin’s arm, their bodies almost touching but not quite.

Merlin couldn’t handle the suspense that was left between them. His stomach was churning like butter at the tension. Without thought, he motioned forward, quick and precise, he pressed a hand to the back of Arthur’s neck and pushed his body into Arthur’s, placing his lips on Arthur’s lips, the faint sound of a gasp getting lost with the swiftness of their bodies and lips coming together. There was such an urgency to the action, one that neither had known was there before. Merlin mind went blank and was lit on fire all at the same singular moment. The kiss was neither long nor short, or just a simple peck or a tongue down your throat kind of kiss. It was a kiss that became lips pressed hard against each other, bodies pressed hard against each other. There was such a need for this moment, a passion that only became evident as Arthur’s arms wrapped around the lower neck of Merlin, Merlin’s hand still against Arthur’s neck, keeping him there, keeping him from stopping or pushing away, stopping a moment that Merlin had only envisioned or dreamed of. It was more than Merlin had just dreamed of, more than he could have imagined; better, and more powerful, and not just one sided, but two, Arthur’s quivering body only furthering his desire.

All too soon they broke apart, Merlin’s hand tracing Arthur’s skin from his neck and throat and jaw, and over his lips, grazing the swollen lips before resting it on Arthur’s flushed cheek. Arthur pressed his cheek into Merlin’s palm, his eyes closing at the touch and he spoke, “I have wanted to do that for a while now,” He smiled into Merlin’s hand and kissed his palm.

 “You are the worst flirt if that is the case,” Merlin laughed, soft and short, it fading away in the night rather than abruptly halting to a stop.

Arthur gasped, sarcastically, “I am an amazing flirt, I’ll have you know it,” His eyes were opened now, looking back into Merlin’s. “You’re just too old to remember what flirting is,” He said, laughing.

Merlin laughed along with him, his hand sliding from his cheek and to his shoulder, down his arm, stopping on his hand briefly before completely releasing him from his touch. “Prat,” Merlin mumbled, though it being loud enough for Arthur to hear.

“Rude,” He replied, mouth agape, the corners of his mouth upturned in a smile.

“You, Arthur Pendragon, are rude.” Merlin said, shaking his head, a soft growl in his stomach submerging, indicating he needed food.

“Oh yeah, totally.” He rolled his eyes teasingly.

Suddenly, the air shifted between them, Arthur's face once again shifting as quick as the wind. His eyes became glassy. Tears?  Arthur suddenly pushed Merlin back with an unexpected amount of force, "We can't do this. T-this can't happen..." he became frantic, confused, and probably a little scared. "I have to go," he quickly pushed passed Merlin.

"Wait, Arthur," Merlin turned and reached out for Arthur, almost as life depended on it.

Arthur forcibly took his arm back, "No, Merlin. Stop. This will never be something. I can't be. I'm sorry," Arthur again quickly turned and ran to his car.

Merlin watched as tears filled the young boys eyes, he only caught it at the last second. Merlin couldn't wrap his head around what just happened. He was left there, standing at his car, in shock. What had just happened? He melted thinking about the kiss, but then after...he wanted to scream. He growled frustrated, running both hands in his hair in frustration before slipping into his car and leaving the parking lot. 

What in the hell had just happened? 

"C'mere girl," Merlin said patting the bed sheets next to him. 

His red doberman girl trotted over and leaped upon the bed, licking Merlin in the face and wagging her docked tail. "I love you too," Merlin smiled as Freya laid halfway on him and on the bed. It was 2:00am, Merlin couldn't sleep. He spent most of that night perusing social media, switching between YouTube, Facebook, Instagram...he played some Call of Duty: Block Ops III, but he eventually found himself back on his phone. He didn't feel like grading papers, or really doing much of anything. He was still shocked and confused about the events of earlier. He, for the first time, felt wanted, needed. He then felt hated, and like a parasite, all within minutes of each other. 

"You tolerate me, Freya," he said looking down as his doberman. He rubbed one of her cropped ears, her eyes blinking open to look up at him. "Yeah, I know you do," she licked his wrist and forearm, before shifting her body into a ball beside her master, her head laying between her paws. 

Merlin was unsure if he could face the young boy at school. He knew it was cowardice, but he just couldn't. Arthur new too much. Merlin could quite, leave the country. He could make his way to the New World, start all over again. Maybe he could do to the Dean and see about getting Arthur moved from his lecture time to another professors? As Merlin mulled over what to do, he received a new notification his phone, the familiar Snap Chat notification bar popping up, interrupting the video of pandas falling to classical music.  Someone sent him a new snap, how exciting! He thought. He quickly clicked the link, sending him to the app. 

He was less excited when he saw who the notification was from. 

ArthurDragon just added you on snap!

ArthurDragon just sent you a snap!

"I really need to private this thing," Merlin told Freya, who was soundly sleeping next to him. He hesitated. He was unsure if he should open it or block him or just leave the message there to taunt him in his dreams. Arthur after all, more-or-less lead him on and then off a cliff in one night. He deserved it. 

He cursed to himself. It wasn't a photo, but a text. Pity, Merlin thought. A part of him hoped Arthur had gotten drunk, drunk enough to add him on Snap Chat and drunk enough to give him a sexy sneak peak of him na-. No, nope, don't go there. But how he wished. He began to imagine the shirtless boy, his abs prominent and glistening in the glow of his cell phone flashlight. He imagined him biting his lip in the imaginary photo, and...Merlin sighed. This was no photo, but he sure would have preferred that than a message. Message's are a gateway to the soul. Well, not really. But they can be hard to read and be a let down. Merlin assumed Arthur was going to tell him that Merlin should leave soon, and that he would not tell his father. Or something like that. Or maybe, just maybe it would be incoherent gibberish? Or just random emoji's. He wouldn't find out until he just opened the snap, just open the damn snap. He clicked.

He looked away, too afraid to ruin the suspense, too addicted to the way this situation made him feel, the racing of his heart, the blood rushing through his veins. 

Hey, we need to talk. Come to practice tomorrow. -ArthurDragon.

Chapter Text

The rain tapped softly against the metal bleachers, dancing in the thousands, falling to the concrete beneath them, or bouncing onto the bleachers below, in a large heard of transparent, liquid, drops. Merlin sat on one of the wet benches that made up the bleachers, the rain falling against his face, dampening his raven black hair.

Arthur was on the pitch, passing the bright yellow ball to an unnamed team player, who then passed it to another player before kicking it into the goal. The coach’s whistle rang, sending the boys into wet jogs towards the sidelines, wiping the rain from their faces with the muddied jersey’s they wore. Arthur looked up towards the bleachers, his eyes searching over the faces of the small crowed until landing upon Merlin’s face, his damp blue eyes becoming bright in the grey rain of the day. Arthur averted his eyes quickly, continuing his slow jog to the crowd of people on the sideline. 

Merlin smiled to him, though he was sure Arthur had missed it. A hole was filling the pit of Merlin's stomach. His smile quickly faded. He was a foolish old man. Foolish for falling for a child, a human. Foolish for falling for someone he did not know. Merlin knew this story would end horribly wrong, end the way they all do: with sadness. Still, Merlin could not help but trace the mud that was trying to dry on Arthur’s wet cheeks and forehead, some clumping his golden hair together in awkward positions on his forehead. But his eyes wandered, making their way down to his body, where his wet jersey clung to him in every which way possible; it clung in all of the right places, and all the wrong places. Merlin bit lip and crossed his legs, blood pooling to the one part of his body he couldn't control. 

Merlin was so lost in thought about his cock the nearly fell off the bleacher when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He jumped, "Jesus Christ," he shouted turning to face the source of his fright.


"Hey," Arthur said, sitting next to Merlin. 

Merlin quickly composed himself, straightened his shoulders, and and nodded to Arthur, "Hello."

They simultaneously looked to the now empty football field, the ran still coming down, a light steam stretching to the sky.

"I never got into football," Merlin said, filling the empty space between them. "I'm not much into sports at all, actually. Well, I swam and rode horses, a long time ago, but never football." He sighed. "You're very good at it," Merlin said facing Arthur.

To Merlin's surprise, Arthur was already looking at him, his eyes piercing Merlin as though he were looking in his soul. Arthur smiled softly, "I've been playing all my life," he replied. "Father always wanted me to be active, and football comes naturally to me."

Merlin nodded in agreement, "I agree, you're very good." He paused, waiting to see if Arthur would reply. He did not. "So, what did you want to-"

Before Merlin could finish, Arthur had his head in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. For a moment, Merlin thought about Arthur shooting him, right there, in that moment. Arthur's eye's were pursed closed, contemplating something. Merlin was vulnerable in this moment. He couldn't help himself, Arthur burned all of his walls to the ground. He felt safe, despite the fact he was sure Arthur was going to kill him. And he would have let him do it, Merlin thought. He would allow the hands of the boy in front of him be the only hand's to destroy to him. Arthur's hand moved to the back of Merlin's neck, his fingers making themselves familiar with Merlin's hair, distracting the vampire from his thoughts of being murdered. And in that moment, in that singular second in the universe, there was a spark. A physical, blot of energy crossing paths between both of their bodies. And time had stopped. The spark was the only moving flame between the rain, reaching its blue hands to sky. In the midst of the spark and the rain and the possibility of it being Merlin's last moment on the Earth, Arthur leaned in, and kissed him. Just like that, their lips were intertwined, dancing with lust and something more. Merlin could taste it, but he would not let his mind travel to false hopes or what if's. He just let the moment be. 

Merlin pushed back, releasing his lips from the golden-haired boy's. He let his eyes trace the rain droplets sliding down his forehead and cheek, and over his lips. Merlin couldn't help himself and licked the trail of water off of Arthur's mouth, replacing it with his own saliva. That was his mouth now. "I'm sorry, Merlin," Arthur said, his cheeks the color of roses. "I'm sorry. I was scared and-" it was Merlin's  turn to interrupt.

He pushed Arthur back, hard enough for him to go backwards, a thud filling the both of their ears as Arthur's back made contact with the bleacher. Merlin hovered over him, positioning himself in between Arthur's legs. He pinned his arms above his head, gripping them by the wrists. "Next time," Merlin whispered into the nape of Arthur's neck, "don't be a coward," he nipped the skin, a light moan escaping Arthur's lips. 


“This rain is awful,” was the only thing Arthur was able to groan out.

“Indeed, it’s very wet,” Merlin shot the boy a cocky smile, before sucking on the lobe of his ear. 

Merlin sat up, looking down at the outstretched, flushed boy. The hair was now plastered to his forehead due to the rain. With his arms above his head, the wet, clingy jersey showed off more of muscular physique, his nipples hard and peaking through the jersey. His body was wet, the water droplets caressing the chiseled skin of the boy beneath him. And then it happened, the one thing Merlin knew would make his knees buckle if he were standing. Arthur bit his lip, taking the plump pink flesh into his mouth, sucking on it softly. Merlin was the one to release a moan then, the blood in his body accumulating in only area that was located in his trousers. 

Arthur smiled, "I am sorry. I just had to think about...this. I had to think about what it would become, what would happen. And...I acted like a child, I'm sorry."

Merlin ran his nails up the side of Arthur's body, tracing the vein that led to the pulsing artery in his neck, and then to his mouth. Merlin let his forefinger rub the bottom of Arthur's lip, teasing the sensitive flesh, before slipping it into the boys mouth. Arthur was quick, and without warning, began to suck on the finger. I am going to ravish you, you selfish little prat. "You can make it up to me," Merlin smiled and stood.

He offered out a hand to help Arthur up. “Come to dinner with me,” Arthur said taking his hand. "With my family."

“Is there a particular reason as to why?” Merlin gave a questioning look to the damp haired boy.

“Never mind, then.” Arthur said is voice turning slightly harsh.

“No, Arthur that is not what I meant. I was just curious as to the occasion,” Merlin said looking at the slightly angered boy. “I probably should have worded my question better and for that, I am sorry.”

Arthur looked at Merlin sending a reassuring smile, the anger draining from his face, “Well, I do owe you and I was thinking that if Father saw you acting human and not like a vampire, he might stop the investigation on you,” Arthur said gazing into Merlin’s eyes.

Merlin slid his hand into Arthur’s, entangling their fingers and bringing his hand to his lips, kissing the soft skin as they began their trek down from the bleachers. “Alright, Arthur, if that is what you wish.” Merlin said letting their entangled fingers dangle closely between them, their shoulders grazing one another’s as they walked. “Why would I be coming to your home to have dinner? It is still very inappropriate for a student and professor to have relations; I could get fired if we were to be found out by the right people,” Merlin said looking at Arthur.

Arthur ran a hand through his wet hair, pushing his bangs from his eyes “We technically are not together,” He began, “So we don’t really have relations,” He said shrugging.

“If we are snogging and practically fucking on the bleachers of campus, we have relations, Arthur. Or at least the beginnings of one,” Merlin stated, looking into Arthur’s blue eyes, a small hinge of sadness entering his body as Arthur’s words pierced his ears.

“Not officially,” he replied, “Anyway, I figure since I still live with father, you could be my private Violin teacher, which would explain the need for you to come to my home.”

Merlin couldn’t help but release a laugh at the young boy who was worried about his not-so-mate, mate. Arthur scrunched his brow at Merlin, “You are a clever, clever boy, Arthur Pendragon” Merlin pulled at Arthur’s hand to stop him, guiding him to stand in front of his professor as he leaned towards him, their lips colliding. In between breaths, Merlin whispered against the boys lips, "It's okay Arthur," he whispered out. "I understand why you were scared. But please, don't run away next time."

Arthur smiled and nodded, “I have to go, but meet me by the car, yeah? You can follow me,” He said a smile on his face before disappearing behind a door Merlin had just noticed they had reached.

Merlin shook his head as he turned away from the brick building, the rain still gliding against his face in cold droplets. As he walked to his car, he thought about what he was going to do with the Violin excuse Arthur had said they were using for his father. Merlin didn’t own any other Violin, and he was sure Arthur would have to actually learn something; if not, his father might find it suspicious that the two wondered off with no Violin to be heard, ever.

It wasn’t too bad, however. Merlin could imagine Uther being away one evening, leaving Arthur and him alone, in his childhood bedroom, or in the study, things turning from kissing to touching and…Merlin shook his head, in an attempt to shake the thoughts from his head. He wouldn’t think of Arthur in such a way, it was inappropriate and harsh and not very gentlemen like, despite Arthur having a gorgeous frame and beautiful eyes and that torturous smile. And despite Merlin almost ravishing the child only minutes ago. Arthur did not make it easy for Merlin to not think about him naked and with Merlin. Merlin sighed, he still shouldn’t see Arthur in that way, not until things became more than random snogging.

The soft sound of a buzz and the feel of vibrations against Merlin’s thigh pushed away his thoughts as he pulled his mobile from his trouser pocket. He had completely forgotten it was in his pocket and so he was surprised it wasn’t damaged by the rain since he was practically dripping from being out in it for so long. No matter, it was fine and undamaged, but he halted from checking it until he was in the safe confines of the school building, making his way slowly to his class.

He waited until he reached his class room and grabbed a towel from one of the cabinets to dry himself off as much as possible, starting with his arms and hands, then his face and hair. He took off his suite jacket along with his red buttoned up shirt, leaving his chest bare and cold. He laid the wet clothing across the backs of a few chairs before turning towards the old instrument room, where he had a suite hanging for cases such as this one.

Before he went to the side room, Merlin made his way to his desk and picked up his mobile, from where he had set it right when he’d entered his class room and unlocked it. There was a Snap Chat notification from Arthur. Merlin placed his finger against the square reddish-pink square, tapping it open. Merlin smiled immediately at the sight of Arthur biting his lip as he stood in front of a full length mirror, holding a white towel just below his waist, the steaming shower water seeping in from behind him.

Merlin’s knees felt slightly weak, so he leaned against his desk for support, but within a short ten seconds, the picture was gone, leaving Merlin flushed and biting his lip, staring at his mobile like an utter idiot. Arthur was making it terribly hard to not think of him in such a perverse way. Arthur was still, no matter how much Merlin hated it, very nice to look at.

With a sigh, he closed the app, locked his phone and placed it once more against his desk, before walking towards the side room turned instrument lockers where he was to get a new and dry suite, along with a Violin for Arthur, so his plan would have even the slightest bit of chance of working.

Merlin had no idea what he was doing. He wasn’t used to such actions, or events like this one to happen; to go to the home of the one hunting his species, going to the place that could get Arthur and Uther and everyone else killed. The place that could bring the end of Merlin’s civil life, turning it into a life with no end to running, with no end to fighting, or hiding. But he would do it for Arthur, because he cared enough to be worried, despite Merlin persisting Uther would never find anything, persisting that he was going to be alright.

He opened the door and turned on the light, revealing the cubbies with black cases filling the inside of white painted boxes. He approached the closest one, reading the name tag, “Claire,” he moved to the next, “Wolfgang,” he moved, checking each case until landing on one that was empty of any name, and he grabbed it, and made his way out the door, grabbing his hanging suite before.

He softly placed it the violin on the desk, before he put on his new suite, pants and all, the new suite shirt being green and no longer red. Afterwards, he opened the latches on the violin case to reveal a Tim Phillips Violin, the worn wood and strings revealing the age of the instrument, the strings no longer the original, and the bow no longer matching the violin. Merlin shrugged his shoulders and closed the case, locking it up. He glanced at his mobile as it lit up and vibrated, telling him he had a text.

It was Arthur telling him he was heading to the cars, so Merlin told him he would be there momentarily, as he rushed around the room, grabbing the violin, his phone, shutting off the lights, locking the room, and then heading to the car lot, where Arthur would inevitably be waiting for him.

He had been right for when he arrived at his black mustang, Arthur was leaning against it, his white earbuds in his ears, his music blaring, his face buried in the luminescent screen of his phone. The rain had finally stopped, though the sky was still cloudy as the sun began to set in the distance.

Merlin smiled and unlocked the car, Arthur glancing up at the approaching Merlin. He smiled back and pulled the white cords from his ears, “Took you long enough,” He said rolling his blue eyes, before Merlin reached him and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Yes, well, for your plan to work, you need this,” Merlin said showing the case to Arthur who nodded. Merlin opened the driver side door, leaned over and placed the case on the passenger side seat.

 “Dinner’s always at 7, so we will be slightly late,” He said while Merlin stepped from the car, taking a few steps closer to him, placing his hand on the black body of the car, just above Arthur’s head. “We are having some German Dish tonight,” He began while Merlin leaned in to him, their faces only inches apart. “Can you even eat normal food?” Arthur asked just before Merlin had placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Yes, though it is very distasteful,” He said between the kisses he trailed on Arthur’s face, who seemed to not notice Merlin. “You will owe me for eating such vile things, by the way.” He whispered against Arthur’s tan neck.

"I'm beginning to accumulate many of those," Arthur chided.

Merlin smiled as he pressed his body against Arthur’s which caused a slight reaction, Arthur groaning, “Merlin, you changed suites?” He asked a little hushed and a little flustered as Merlin still kissed down his face and neck. 

"What do you expect? Me to meet your father in wet clothing?" he said, realizing that despite him not wanting to treat Arthur like an object, he was doing just that.

A part of him couldn't help it, it didn't want to. And Arthur, with that image he sent? He was practically begging for Merlin to use him in such a sick way.

Merlin didn’t reply or stop when Arthur’s phone rang. Arthur didn't seem to mind as he answered the phone anyway, a little breathlessly, “Hello?” he said first, “Yes father, I’m on my way now...mmmm...don’t worry.” Merlin looked up at him, their eyes meeting, Merlin nipping his skin forcing another moan from his lips. “F-father, I’m sure she’s a lovely woman.” And then he said, “I have a violin instructor coming tonight, so make extra food.” There was a long moment of silence after that, until he said goodbye, putting his phone back into his pants. “Merlin, c’mon, we should head out,” He said to Merlin whose body was still pressed against Arthur’s, Merlin’s face still buried in his neck, kissing him.

Merlin nodded and kissed Arthur once more on the cheek before sliding into his car, “Lead the way,”  Arthur strolled off towards his own vehicle and before long, they were on the road heading towards Arthur’s home.


Arthur’s home was a mansion on a hill, literally, surrounded by iron gates that stood seven or more feet up, with dragon heads at every pillar of white brick, connecting new pieces of fence. It was beautiful and very large compared to other mansions Merlin had seen in his days, this one filled with life as people walked through the front courtyard and around a fountain in the center.

They had driven through large iron gates that lead directly into a courtyard that circled around the fountain that sat in front of large stone stairs which led to large wooden doors. Arthur pulled his BMW to a stop and Merlin did the same, stepping out when Arthur did. Arthur smiled at the man who came to take his keys who soon left in his car. Merlin did as Arthur had, when a boy dressed in a red suite asked for his keys and he too, left in his car, not before Merlin grabbed the two Violin cases. “He won’t hurt it, right?” He asked Arthur as they made their way up the large stone stairs.

“Please, if any of them were to hurt any car, I’m sure my father would have them killed, Arthur said laughing as they stepped through the opened doors and made their way down a corridor, dressed with red curtains and paintings of kings and scenery, along with armor that sat between every other pillar.

“That’s reassuring,” Merlin said following Arthur, taking in the sights as they moved along, completely amazed at the beauty of the place as the made their way up the steps and into yet another corridor that eventually lead into the dining area.

It was a very beautiful place, a large wooden table in the center of the room, decorated with a white and gold table cloth and silver plates, with various other table decorations and such on it, while an old rustic chandelier hung directly above it. There was a man sitting at the head of the table, a woman to his left, and another to his right, all talking and already eating, the sound of forks and knives scrapping obnoxiously against their silver plates.

“Hello, father,” Arthur said, Uther looking towards them, a smile on his face. “Ah, and you must be Catrina?” Arthur asked the women closest to them, a smile dancing across her face. “Very nice to meet you,” He said shaking her out stretched hand.

Uther stood, holding an outstretched hand that Merlin took quickly and shook it, “You must be Professor Emrys? Arthur told me you’d be coming for Violin lessons, yes?”

Merlin nodded and smiled as they released one another’s hands, “Yes, nice to meet you,” Merlin said as Uther sat on his chair that resembled a throne.

“Arthur’s mother used to play violin; I’m finally glad he’s taking something up of hers,” He looked Arthur with only love in his eyes.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Merlin smiled at Arthur, as two people brought out plates for him and Arthur, the smell of cooked meat and raw vegetables filling Merlin’s nose. Arthur was really going to owe him for making him eat such disgusting, such vile things.

Everyone began to eat once more, including Merlin who cut the chicken, and began to eat small pieces at a time, glaring at Arthur when he would turn to face him.

“How did you and Catrina meet?” Merlin asked between bites of chicken, following it by the wine that wasn’t as bad as he would have guessed it to be.

“It’s a long story,” Uther said wiping his mouth.

“I understand,” Merlin nodded, taking another bite of the chicken.

“Morgana, how was your day?” Uther asked the pale skinned girl next to him.

Merlin knew before actually seeing her that she was definitely vampire, her smell lingering all through the home, but looking at her gave it away much more, the paleness of her skin, the vividness of her eyes, the way she looked aware of everything around her and the lack of her eating.

Merlin had intended to listen in on her and Uther’s conversation, but when he felt a hand on his thigh, he became distracted. He looked over at Arthur, who was facing away from him, making conversation with Catrina, while his hand and part of his arm was hidden from the dangling white and golden table cloth.

His fingers stayed on his thigh, tracing circles for a long time, Merlin having almost finishing the food on his plate by the time Arthur’s fingers slid up and up and… Merlin almost chocked on the wine he was sipping, as Arthur’s hand grabbed his crotch. Merlin again looked at Arthur who was still facing away. Merlin had no idea what he was to do. Should he stop Arthur? Yes. Would he stop Arthur? Probably not. They were in public, they could be caught, but Merlin eventually stopped caring about that, once Arthur began rubbing him with his palm, slowly at first, but soon speeding up.

Merlin bit his lip as he tried to listen to Morgana and Uther talking about their day. This was by far the most inappropriate thing Merlin had done in the last fifty years, and it felt kind of good, really good now that he thought about it. The way Arthur worked his hand on Merlin’s ever growing erection in his trousers, all happening under the table, in front of everyone. Merlin shifted slightly towards Arthur, which caused Arthur to turn and give a small smirk before facing Catrina again.

Merlin still ate the chicken, no longer caring about the taste, as he just wanted something in his mouth to keep himself from moaning. “Professor Emrys, have you been teaching very long?” Morgana asked, looking down at Merlin.

Merlin cleared his throat, “Ugh, a few years now,” he said his voice still cracking. He went for his wine, taking down another sip, when Arthur slid his fingers to the zipper of his trousers and pulled it down, reaching his hand beneath the fabric of his boxer.

“And the Violin?” She again asked.

“All my life, not teaching it, but playing it,” Merlin said, clenching his jaw before smiling.

“You should hear him sometime, he’s very good.” Arthur said smiling at Merlin as he took his cock into his hand and pulled it from his boxers and trousers.

Arthur ran a finger over the tip before beginning a slow up and down motion, his arm not visibly moving from above the cloth. Merlin stopped eating, letting a hand fall to his lap and then under the cloth, finding Arthur’s forearm and following it to his hand that was rubbing up and down his member.

Merlin wrapped his hand around Arthur’s, speeding him up from his painstakingly slow pace, to a quicker one, while tightening the grip, his wet precum already on the tip and sliding down beneath Arthur’s palm, making his path on Merlin slicker.

“Arthur how was practice? I know it rained, must have been awful,” Morgana said turning her attention from Merlin to Arthur.

“It wasn’t too bad, the rain made it harder to guide the ball, but it was pretty good other than that. We have a few new players we’re breaking in,” Arthur said his voice cool and collected, as though he wasn’t jerking Merlin under the table.

Merlin tightened his grip around Arthur’s hand, warning him that he was getting close and he stopped. Arthur took his hand from Merlin’s member, leaving it bare and hard and very unsatisfied. Merlin had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from his mouth gaping out wide in disbelief. Merlin couldn’t believe what Arthur had done, but oh how he was going to get pay back, and he would, he thought to himself as he put himself back into his trousers and boxers, zipping up, before shooting Arthur a look that was only replied with a devious grin.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Merlin thought about how he was going to get pay back on Arthur, and by the time the dinner was over, he had a plan, a very good plan he thought. So, after their plates were taken away, Arthur stood and said goodbye to his father and left, Merlin following him as they made their way up a few flights of stairs and landing on a hallway that had various doors leading to various rooms.

Merlin would have paid more attention to the beauty of the place but he had only one thing in mind when Arthur guided him into a large and very beautiful bed room, with paintings and poetry on the wall, a large window on either side of the largest bed Merlin had ever seen, it fitted with Camelot red. There were other doors in the room, one opened into a bathroom, the other most likely a closet. A desk sat at one corner of the room, just under yet another window, a laptop and some papers strewn across its surface.

“Catrina is a troll, I swear,” Arthur said casually, making his way towards a set of chairs across from the desk.

Merlin shut the room door and followed Arthur grabbing his arm before he sat down. With inhuman speed, Merlin grabbed Arthur and placed his back against a wall in only seconds, as he began to kiss his jaw and neck, quickly, and hungrily, his ears filling with the sound of Arthur’s blood and his nose filling with his scent, both his blood and shampoo and body wash.

Merlin nipped at his neck, softly, not to draw blood, “Arthur,” Merlin first said, continuing his kissing down Arthur’s neck and to his collar bone. “You bloody dollophead,” he said between kisses, sucking at the skin, making sure it was to bruise.

“Who speaks like that anymore?” Arthur said, both a laugh and a moan escaping his lips as Merlin’s hands ran down Arthur’s sides and to his belt loops, pushing his hips into Merlin’s.

“I do,” Merlin bit him, still not drawing blood, just enough for Arthur’s body to shiver under the act making Merlin smile.

Merlin began to slowly grind into Arthur, a leg between Arthur’s spread legs. Soft pants released from Arthur, followed by a gasp when Merlin reached from the top of Arthur’s pants and pushed his hand down beneath the fabric, letting his hand graze Arthur, all the while still grinding against him. “Merlin,” was the only thing Arthur had said.

Merlin pressed into Arthur harder, as he no longer kissed his collar bone, but now traced kisses, wet and sloppy, from his jaw line and then to his lips, allowing his tongue to break beneath the surface, their tongues battling for the feel of each other’s mouths.

Merlin had years to learn how to please and tease and he had become very good at it. He knew how to respect one’s body while also punishing it, not harshly and not even a dominant type harshness, but a punishment that left the person trembling and begging and very much so pleased.

Merlin looked into Arthur’s eyes as he bit Arthur’s bottom lip, sucking on it, while his hand began to thrust against Arthur’s already hard cock, Arthur pressing himself into Merlin as he did. Merlin smirked before kissing Arthur again deeply, his tongue trailing and mapping every inch of Arthur’s mouth, while his body learned how it fit with Arthur’s as he was pressed against the stone wall behind him.

Merlin sped up his thrusts as well as his continuous grinding on Arthur, causing Arthur to shift and moan and tremble beneath him. The warm wet liquid that breached the surface of Arthur’s cock was a sign he was close, the precum being spread by Merlin’s hand as he mapped out Arthur’s mouth.

Then he stopped.

He pulled his hand from Arthur’s pants and pushed off of him, releasing their mouths, a soft strand of saliva connecting their lips before breaking. Merlin looked at the wide eyed Arthur, and licked off the hand that was in his pants, making sure to get every bit of Arthur off it, before abruptly turning to make his way to a chair in the room. “Alright, Arthur, let’s learn some Violin,” Merlin said smiling at the frozen Arthur, who was still shocked, his back pressed against the stone wall. “Come on, we haven’t got all night, and some of us still have yet to eat a proper meal,” Merlin said to Arthur, smiling at the golden haired boy.

Merlin couldn’t believe what he had just done, pleasing Arthur in such a quick session without asking or warning, but he was glad he did. He was glad he finally got to feel Arthur in his hand and learn how he tasted, but he wanted more. Merlin really wanted more, his cock twitching between his legs, but he would not, not tonight. That was going to be Arthur’s punishment for what he had done at the dinner, though Merlin was punishing himself too. Still, Arthur was going to be taught how to not be rude, and Merlin thought leaving him hard without finishing what he started was rude, therefore he needed to be punished, and oh how Merlin did.

The look on Arthur’s face somewhere between anger and confusion and lust, all combined in one, as he looked at his Professor, his eyes glazed with lust and want. Merlin shook his head as a knock sounded on the door, in stepping a young girl, holding the violin cases, “You forgot these, sir,” She said setting them by the door before leaving.

Arthur wobbled his way to pick up the violin cases, almost tripping, before he came back, handing Merlin his violin. “Let us begin,” Merlin said smiling as Arthur opened the violin case.

Merlin thought this was going to be the start of something new, something great, and something he has yet to experience.

Chapter Text

“No, Arthur, your pinky, use your pinky,” Merlin said tapping Arthur’s hand that was placed against the finger board of the violin.

“Merlin, this is my first time, hold on,” Arthur said rolling his eyes.

“Yes, but we’ve been at this for an hour already and you still don’t know which finger to put where,” Merlin said crossing his legs as he sat on the leather chair.

Arthur sighed and placed his pinky on one of the strings, a wrong string. “Okay, okay,” Merlin stood up and grabbed Arthur’s hand, guiding it up the finger board until stopping it, Arthur’s eyes never leaving Merlin’s. Only an hour ago he and Merlin had gotten very inappropriate, the tension still lingering between them, but neither spoke nor made any attempt to move any further; Merlin was slightly glad of that, though he wouldn’t mind too much to go further. “There, now, remember this.” He smiled and kissed Arthur’s rosy red cheek, “We’re done.”

Arthur sighed and placed the Violin in its case while Merlin stretched and straightened out his disheveled suite. There was a soft knock on the door, “Come in,” Arthur said, the soft echo of the latches on the case filling Merlin’s ears.

“Arthur, your father wishes to speak with you,” the young girl looked towards Merlin, but never made eye contact. “Alone,” She finished.

“That is quiet alright, we were just finishing up here,” Merlin replied to her before Arthur could, smiling a reassuring smile towards the soft faced girl.

“Have someone bring his car around,” Arthur said just as the girl was leaving.

Merlin walked towards Arthur, wrapping his arms around him from behind at his waist, pressing his chest into Arthur’s back; he did not speak, or move other than the small shift of weight on his feet once Arthur had straightened completely. Merlin was leaning into his neck, breathing in his scent, his eyes closed as he learned the sound of Arthur’s heart and the rhythm it danced in his veins.

He smelled nice, nice enough to eat.

Merlin had self-control, though he wasn’t always like he is today, able to resist the urge of his instincts, to not bite into everyone who passed him, vampire or human alike. There were times in his youth, hundreds of years ago when he gave into the instinct and became a beast, but those days had long since passed and as the human world became civilized, Merlin too, became civilized, no longer feeding from un-willing humans, to blood bags, to donor banks that covens had brought about; a place where people came in willingly to give blood to the vampire, though the humans were put under contract and paid handsomely; the ones who were not bonded to any vampire.

It worked, too. Eventually the vampire society faded from the humans eye, not including the damn Blood Hunters, but the media no longer raved about them but for the movies and books people had written, all fiction, including Bram Stokers, though the people were real, the counts relationship with Mina and them all, real. Some movies and other works or fiction were based on real vampires, but due to the Covens and the society the vampire had set forth, they were strictly controlling what was allowed in those movies and what was not. But the count was no Dracula and that was a story the Covens had no bearing on,  Merlin thought, a smirk breaking his lips. “What?” Arthur said breaking the silence as they leaned into each other.

“Just thinking about old memories,” Merlin said softly into Arthur’s ear. “C’mon, your father has summoned you,” Merlin kissed Arthur’s cheek yet again and released his grip around the boy, and followed him through the door and down to the stairs, until they arrived at a small study that sat just near a living room.

Before Arthur went in, he grabbed Merlin and pulled him behind a corner, and kissed him, hard, but short, it only lasting a few seconds, before he turned and said goodbye, leaving Merlin to walk alone to his car and leave, without another word escaping from either of them.

This was frustrating to deal with, having to hide again, as though on some level, history were repeating itself. Granted, Merlin didn’t have to worry about dating men until Christian Faiths appeared, beforehand the world not caring too much who bedded with who or whom one loved; it was looked down upon a few hundred years before the religion became widely spread, but he never truly had to hide it until then. He knew that this circumstance was different on the level of it being okay to be man sleeping or loving with man, but if he were to be found out that he were having relations with a student? No, Merlin and Arthur couldn’t risk it, even if they weren’t a couple, or even mates.

Merlin ran a hand through his hair and slumped in his leather seat as he turned the car on and left, the sky still cloudy from the earlier rain, keeping any visible stars from view, or the soft glow from the thumbnail moon that made its appearance, all shrouded in a blackish-blue darkness created by the clouds.

Merlin’s phone began to buzz in his pocket as he drove, so he reached and grabbed it, answering the call, “Hello?”

“Hey, you forgot the violin here,” Arthur said.

“Hm, just bring mine to me tomorrow morning,” Merlin replied, turning down his long gravel driveway. He didn’t realize he had lived so close to Arthur, only a five or ten-minute drive away, but this was the richer side of Camelot, so it hadn’t been surprising.

There was a short pause, “I can’t, I have to help out this new kid, Mordred, who’s going to be the new goalie.” Arthur said, “He’s been on the team for so long now and he really likes the idea of being goalie, so I thought I’d help him out, y’know? He’s a friend and friends help friends,” he finished.

Merlin clenched his jaw shut before answering, feeling as if Arthur weren’t telling him something about this Mordred fellow. “Why do I feel as though you aren’t telling me something?” Merlin hadn’t meant to ask it allowed, but he had, snapping his mouth shut, the force causing a soft ring in his ears.

“He’s like my sister, and you I suppose,” Arthur replied, the sound of shuffling papers in the background.

Merlin shook his head. There was something more to him than his just “being a vampire”, but Merlin didn’t want to make Arthur angry, so he just left the conversation at that. He began driving up the long gravel driveway of his home, a stone sign reading, “Ealdor Estates,” with gold lettering as he came close to the large iron fence that circled the entire land.

Merlin released a sigh as he pulled his car to a stop just beside a key pad and he rolled down his window, “I’m home now, Arthur, so I should go,” He placed his thumb against the scanner just to the side of the keypad, a small light tracing the print of his finger, shining green when it was done and the gates slid open.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Merlin said with a smile as he continued up the gravel driveway. “Goodbye, Arthur,” And he hung up, just as he pulled up in front of his mansion like home.

Merlin sighed and sat in the Mustang for a moment, rubbing his hands against the leather steering wheel, closing his eyes and listening to the world around him. He hadn’t turned on the radio, which was a new thing for him; he always listened to David Garrett or Lindsey Stirling, and a few others on his drives home, turning the volume up loudly, the only sound he would be able to hear was the sound of the beautiful violins the people were playing.

He released a heavy sigh as he stepped from his car and made his way up the lonely stone steps that lead to the front door and soon he was inside, placing his mobile on a small table just inside the door. He looked up the winding stairs in front of him, the black marble floors shinning, as his eyes found the body of his large dog, laying at the top landing of the winding set of stairs.

Before taking another step, the sound of claws against the marble floors echoed in Merlin’s ears, followed by the clinking of dog tags beating against each other as the large Doberman ran from the tops of the winding stairs and down to Merlin. “Freya,” Merlin said her name with a smile as he knelt down to pet the large dog as she barreled her way into Merlin’s outstretched arms, knocking him backwards slightly, “I missed you too, girl,” Merlin said smiling.

Freya had been Merlin’s since before she was born, owning every generation of her pedigree since the Doberman were bred into existence. Freya however had been Merlin’s favorite from them all and he would miss her dearly once her time was to end, though she was still a very young pup, barley three years old, so Merlin tried to not think of the future, as dwelling on the dead gets no one anywhere in life, immortal or not.

Freya wagged her stubby tail and licked Merlin’s face before trotting off towards the kitchen, “Indeed, it is past time you ate,” He nodded to himself and followed the Doberman into the kitchen.

She sat just in front of a dog dish on one side of the large granite island, her eyes following Merlin’s every move as he sluggishly made his way towards the pantry, filled to the brim with only dog food. He opened one of the bags and grabbed the scoop, filling it with a food special made for her, and made his way towards her bowl, where she sat patiently, though her mouth was dripping and foaming with saliva. Merlin poured the food into her dish, but she did not move, she just stayed and watched Merlin, her eyes never moving towards the food. He leaned against the island and smiled at her, “Essen,” he said and immediately jumping off her paws she began eating.

After Merlin put the scoop up, he fixed himself his own food, grabbing two bags full of the red liquid in the refrigerator, and heated it up in a large mug. After it was all done and finished, he and Freya made their way up to his room where they stayed the remainder of the night, too tired to think or move anymore, falling asleep with the thoughts of Arthur’s hand on him and his hand on Arthur…and then the mention of that Mordred fellow was on his mind as he drifted off into a dreamless slumber.


The Next Day

Merlin growled silently to himself when he saw the outline of Arthur making his way through the classroom door. Arthur didn’t make it far before noticing the class void of any students, at the same time Merlin looked up from his grading papers, “You’re late, Arthur.”

Arthur sighed, “I’m sorry, I had that practice thing with Mordred and I just forgot about time,” Arthur gave a smile, awkward and forced against his pink lips, which were slightly puffier than normal. Merlin shrugged it off as him biting as his lips on the pitch or out of nerves.

“Well, you missed the start of our new subject today: Greek Gods. I let the students go early, as you may know,” Merlin said not looking back up at Arthur, very annoyed at him for being late, and not texting him, or bringing him his violin.

His entire class routine had been flipped around; first off, he hadn’t gotten any response to his text or snap chat that morning. He didn’t have his violin so he could not play and his head was as if it were being bombarded by thousands of asteroids. On top of that, he was worried about Freya. Merlin had no idea what was wrong with her, her having been experiencing some inappetence that morning, her energy a little low. Merlin was worried about his girl, but would see if she were better that night. If not, he'd be taking a trip to his vet in the morning. He should check her temperature when he get's home, just to see if she were running a fever. Merlin was just having a bad day.

“You okay?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded, “I’m fine,” he smiled, just as forced as Arthur’s had been.

He clenched his jaw when Arthur pulled his mobile from his pocket and smiled at whatever text he had gotten. Merlin shook his head, “Arthur, I have to get these papers graded,” He said, breaking Arthur’s eyes from his mobile.

“Yeah, okay. Hey, I have to help this Mordred kid to get him good enough before our game in a month. Is there anyway we can do this study thing after that? I'll come to class, every class."

"Suppose that's fine. Just bring me a written form from you coach stating that's why you will be missing," Merlin ran a hand though his hair.

"Talk later?” Arthur asked suggesting to his phone. Merlin nodded and the boy left, leaving Merlin angry and annoyed and just… he released another sigh and ran a hand through his hair again, he was having a really bad day.

Weeks Following

Merlin glanced down at his phone as he sat in his rolling chair,spinning it slowly with his foot pushing off of his desk.

Hey, he had said in the text he sent Arthur exactly four weeks ago.

No response, not one. He had snap-chatted him on several occasions, but Arthur hadn’t replied to them, though he had looked.

He and Arthur were still doing the Violin lessons and he was improving, but they hadn’t kissed since the first night Merlin had been to his house. Merlin did try of course, but Arthur always stepped away just before Merlin could. They hadn’t hardly spoken either, Arthur’s excuse being, “I’ve been practicing with Mordred,” and others always involving that bloody vampire. Merlin remembers seeing Arthur and Mordred hanging out and having fun last Friday from Arthur’s snap chat story. Merlin had asked if he wanted to hang out after class, but Arthur said he had prior plans. Guess those were his prior plans.

Merlin was tired of hearing of this Vampire child and he hated how much time the two were spending with one another, Arthur completely stopping everything Merlin thought they had. This Mordred had been taking Arthur away, and yes Merlin knew they weren’t together, but he was still jealous and angry. He didn't trust the creature, but he would be there for Arthur, when things went to shit, he would be there. 

Merlin looked at the time and sighed, “11:00 p.m.,” he rubbed his eyes, stood, getting his things before leaving his classroom. Merlin never really stayed late after school because of Freya, but she was at the vet still, as they were still trying to figure out what was wrong with her, her condition getting worse every week. Did Arthur even know if Merlin had a dog? Probably not, Merlin thought. Most likely not, at least.

He thought about Arthur as he walked to his car, and what he might be doing this weekend since their game had been canceled for a reason Merlin did not know. He wondered if he would have been with Mordred doing whatever they did on Friday’s now, and if he were having fun. Probably.

So it was surprising when Merlin looked up and saw Arthur’s car still in the parking lot. He cocked an eyebrow, curious and figuring he could go look for him, because he was curious. At least, that was going to be his excuse when Arthur asked what he was doing, if he even managed to find him. He would, however, be able to find Arthur. Vampire like Merlin, not exactly like him, but old, very old, those with the title of "Primordial" could always find the person they were looking for, despite being bonded or mated or not. Merlin didn't have to learn the skill, it came naturally to him. All other Primordial's had to learn it, and took hundreds of years to be mastered, and most had to have tasted the blood for those they were looking for. 

He felt like a teenager, being so jealous and a little murderous. Merlin wanted to blame the world he lived in now and how everyone was childish most of the time and that the childishness was rubbing off on him, but he knew it was more because he truly was jealous and a little murderous towards that Mordred boy. Arthur was being a prick, even if he had not known it. But Merlin thought that people didn’t just jerk anyone under a table in a room full of people without actually feeling anything, did they? Ugh, he was very frustrated that he allowed a human to make him feel this way; like a stalker and obsessive. 

Merlin looked at the dark pitch, no lights on and empty. He stopped and listened, letting all of the sounds and the smells to engulf his body and mind as he searched, trying to find Arthur’s scent or hear his voice or anything, like the zipping up of a bag or bare feet in the locker room, or music on the sidewalk around the school. Lucky enough for him, Merlin heard the sound of music coming from the locker room, along with running shower water and… damn. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach as the sounds from the locker room filled his ears. They may not be Arthur, he told himself as he approached the locker rooms, opening the red door and stepping into a steaming room, looking at the lockers all in neat rows, though some were open while others had clothes being trapped between the outside and the inside, wrinkled and begging for release. 

The showers were running and most of the lights were off but the one coming from within in, and the sound of some pop flooded into Merlin’s ears as he approached the showers, not really sure what he was expecting to find until he found it. He peered around the corner into the showers as laughter and moans filled his ears, Arthur’s moans. What he saw made him want to cry and kill, but he also was filled with amazement and beauty as zaps of soft lightening filled the pit in his stomach as he looked at Arthur, pinned to the shower wall.

Arthur’s head was leaned against the wall behind him, the steaming shower water caressing his skin, the marble droplets of water rolling down his face and chest. His eyes were closed and his hands were placed out in front of him, tangled in the black waves of hair that bobbed on him. The hair belonged to Mordred, and that made Merlin sick, but he was too shocked and confused and frozen to move. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t turn his head from Arthur or take a step back behind the corner or run away. He like a moth to a flame: unable to look away,drawn to the light. But he was filled with rage, a rage he had not felt for a long time. He wanted to rip Mordred off of Arthur and beat Arthur for what he was doing, but he couldn’t move. HE wanted to rip off the head of the vampire child, defiling his Arthur. But all he could do was just stand there, mouth agape with everything in between that of shock and anger.

Until Mordred’s head came off of Arthur and looked up at him, Arthur looking back down, his grip tightening against the others head. Merlin wasn’t sure how they saw him, but Arthur’s eyes swiftly turned up to meet Merlin’s and that was all it took for Merlin to turn and leave, swiftly and definitely with inhuman speed, the sound of Arthur speaking his name reaching him but not having any effect. He made it to a row of trees, his gut wrenching. He couldn't help it. He buckled over, vomiting clear liquid into the fresh mulch. "Fuck," he wiped his mouth, the burning in his throat having lasted only seconds. He could hear the pounding sound of Arthur's feet on the ground as he ran towards his Professor. Merlin was sure he was yelling his name, or telling him to wait, stop, let me explain, but the rage coursing through his veins would not allow him. Merlin made it to his car without looking back, and quickly sped off, leaving Arthur standing still a few hundred yards away, his black silhouette the only thing Merlin could see when looking trough his rear-view mirror. 

How could Arthur do that? How could he whore himself around like that? How dare he lead Merlin on, only to go and fuck someone else without the slightest word! He ran a shaking, frustrated hand through his hair as he turned the music up in his car, some new-age alternative song blaring. It made him feel better. Fuck them all, he thought to himself. Merlin wasn’t much for cursing, he rarely did it, he even hated it, but he was so angry that he lost all morals and self-restraint against who he has become and what he has vowed not to do. It was all gone in a flash of fiery rage.

Merlin was just having a really bad month, he figured as he sped home. It was expected, he did put himself in a very uncharacteristic situation by going after a human boy, who was just that, a boy, barely twenty-three.

Sirens and flashing lights shined through Merlin's mirror, “Bloody fucking fantastic,” he shook his head and pulled to the side. He was having a bad month.

The man approached Merlin’s car and told him to roll the window down, but Merlin having a bad month, and still being very, very pissed off, and having no self-restraint or any morals left, he opened the car door and gripped the man tightly around the neck, his feet lifting from the ground as he scratched at Merlin’s hand. “You caught me at a really bad time, mate,” he said before slamming the man into his car, and biting his neck, hard, the sound of bones cracking underneath him as his blood pooled into Merlin’s mouth.

Merlin moaned; he couldn’t help it. It had been too long since he had had fresh blood, and God did the sexual pleasure he felt feel amazing. He had been living off of chilled bags of blood from donor banks for too many years, ever since bagged blood became a thing in the modern world. It was good to feel the natural warmth and freshness of this man’s blood filling his mouth and throat and mind and body, but all too quickly was the feeling gone. The man’s body limply fell to the ground when Merlin released him, unconscious and broken, but not dead. The wound on his neck was healing slowly but would be gone by the time anyone found him. Without hesitating, Merlin got back into his car, not caring that he dented the mustang, nor did he care that there was blood on his suite and face, and even some on the hand from when he gripped the man’s throat. He drove off, tire's squealing, leaving the police officer in a cloud of thick smoke. Merlin just didn’t care anymore. He shouldn't care in the first place. He and Arthur had not put a name on what they were doing. Hell, they only kissed a few times, and there was a handy there, but not to completion. They were just "fucking around" as the young people called it those days. 

When he got home, he cursed himself for allowing his emotions to become so controlling. Vampires feel emotions more strongly than humans, but he still hated when he let it take over. He didn’t regret it, however. He enjoyed nearly draining a man dry for the first time in centuries, and drinking fresh blood for the first time in years. It felt good to just let loose of everything, even though it was anger and driven by rage; and the fact the he almost killed a man, punishable by the Coven laws, especially since he was law enforcement. Pity they would never find out it was Merlin. He enjoyed allowing himself to feel something for once, other than the “good” side of emotions he only ever allowed to show through… Most of the time.

He played the images of Arthur and Mordred in his head as he numbly walked up the winding stairs of his home and into his bathroom, striping himself of the bloodied suite, taking out his mobile beforehand and dialing his personal mechanic to fix the Mustang before he goes to work tomorrow.  He had the lights off as he sat down, pulling his knees up and his face, as the smell of blood and salt ran from Merlin’s body and into the drain. He stayed that way, for a long time, until his body shriveled and the shower water turned cold. Even then he didn’t get out, but he did shortly after, once he realized it was three a.m. He hadn’t bothered with clothes or even drying off; he just numbly made his way to his bed and fell in, falling asleep as soon as his head had hit the pillow.


Blood filled Merlin’s nostrils as the world around him was dark and cold. He couldn’t see anything, or feel anything, as though he had no body or physical being; even when the dark world suddenly exploded with light and images, of Arthur. He was walking down one of the paths at the University, his hands in his pockets while another walked in sync with him- Mordred.

Merlin growled, but he seemed to have no effect on the two boys as they walked side by side, so Merlin just watched, feeling a slight shift in wind and emotion from the boy’s. They smiled and pushed one another’s shoulders, soft laughter filling their air. Merlin sighed, and watched with heavy eyes, his anger and hatred for the vampire child, Mordred, growing inside of him. Merlin didn’t trust him, Merlin wouldn’t trust him. Not just because he took Arthur from him, but because the air around Mordred was different and bad, if it were to be given a name. Merlin felt he needed to protect Arthur and be very territorial, as if Arthur were an object, though Merlin could never see him as such.

Merlin was in deep like of the boy, despite two situations making it seem as though Arthur felt differently. He couldn't help it. There was a connection there. Arthur had witnessed it to, commenting on it at one of their violin sessions. Arthur felt that electrifying spark, he even saw the flash of light and energy intertwining them as they kissed. Arthur new what they had was different. Maybe he was just scared, maybe he was just running. No. Arthur was knight, a prince. He would not be a coward and run from something like that. Merlin would not allow himself to believe that. 

The two boys eventually fell silent, staying that way for a long time, until they reached Arthur’s car, “Need a ride?” Arthur had said, facing Mordred.

“No, but thank you,” Mordred;s face changed then, a glint in his eye, dark and mischievous. He held a smirk on his lips, but it was as though he were a wolf  that had just trapped their prey.

In a flash Mordred was pining Arthur forcibly into his BMW, a fanged smile across his lips.

“Mordred?” Arthur asked, Merlin noticing the struggle Arthur had against Mordred’s grasp on him.

Merlin could hear the blood in Arthur begin to rage hot and loud and fearful through his veins, his face turning a slight pink, his blue eyes becoming wide with fear, or anger or maybe surprise, Merlin couldn’t tell. “Arthur,” Mordred said, Arthur shivering with chills as his name was spoken.

Arthur was still squirming under Mordred when he pushed his head to the side, revealing a pulsing vein in his neck. Mordred licked his lips before swiftly biting down, a groan escaping Arthur.

Merlin was shaking his head. He knew it wasn’t painful for Arthur, he knew it was pleasurable, unlike any pleasure he had probably ever experienced, but when someone was unwilling, it made the teeth dig deeper into the flesh, ripping it, which would hurt and the entire act of not wanting it was painful to the mind, and most tend to come out of it in a depressive state. Merlin was screaming, yelling, for this dream to be over and to be stopped. It was a cruel joke his mind was playing on him, and he just wanted to wake up.

Arthur’s eyes fluttered closed, his lips turning blue and pale followed by his face, then his ears, his neck, all becoming blue and pale. Soon, his body was limp, his breath the slightest, being nearly impossible to see or feel if it were a human looking. Mordred pulled off, some drops of blood spilling down his lips as he guided Arthur to the ground. Mordred cut the vein on his wrist and held it to Arthur’s mouth, tilting his back as the blood flowed into his mouth, making it slide down his throat whether Arthur wanted it to or not. Moments later, the blood stopped and Arthur coughed, chocking, some blood spitting out, reaching some parts of his face and clothing.

His eyes squeezed shut as his body convulsed under Mordred, pain clear on his still pale blue face, but Mordred had a tight grip, keeping Arthur from moving far as he stroked his hair, sending calming words into him. His flesh slowly became golden, and deathlike. He body was still convulsing in pain, foam spilling from his mouth, blood leaking from his nose. 

Mordred let Arthur lay back, the rocks beneath his back scrapping at his shirt and shifting at the shaking motion. Mordred walked away, leaving Arthur alone and cold. Merlin was screaming, anger filling him as he saw Mordred leaving Arthur like he was. “You fucking bastard! I will kill you!” Merlin yelled, pointlessly in his dream.

Merlin knew what would happen. Ten minutes tops, and he would be changed. He would wake up, maybe for a short time. His eyes would shoot open, a large gasp coming from him as he took in his first breath of air. He would look around, confused and a little scared, wincing at the new sounds and smells and sights. He wouldn’t remember anything, and he would be alone and scared. Merlin shook his head. It could take Arthur hundreds of years before he would remember how he was turned, unless he is one of the lucky few who can remember it in the first few years. Merlin has found that even when people tell them how they were turned, they don’t believe it, and they don’t ever remember who turned them and why or when or how, that taking years. There have been times when Merlin has witnessed changing where the vampire remembered who and why, but seldom do they ever.  Merlin tried to reach out to Arthur, to send him soft words, telling him it will be alright, it will be over quickly.

But when he felt tears run down his cheek, he paused. Had he been crying? Upon noticing this, his mind was forced into darkness again, only to be drug from the dream as though a demon were dragging his next victim to hell.  His eyes shot openedlooking up at the ceiling of his room where stars from the universe floated above him like a 3-D image that he could touch and feel.

He jumped up in bed, sweat pouring from his face and body, “Arthur.” He yelled out, feeling as though his dream was more than just a dream.


Chapter Text

Merlin was speeding again, down the road, passing the spot on the road where he almost killed a man. They were no longer there, a flare still burning against the asphalt. but he didn’t care. He did not think about that, he couldn't. His mind was on Arthur and getting to him. He had no idea if he were dreaming or if it was a vision, but he couldn’t chance it, he couldn’t chance leaving Arthur all alone on campus with only a few hours left until the sun came up and began to be filled with students.               

Merlin reached out with his mind, searching for Arthur. Vampires could find each other with their minds, and talk telepathically, though Merlin could do it with humans and read the minds of both human and vampire, but it made his head hurt like someone was bashing his head in with a stick. He was searching, searching, but nothing. He was too distracted to focus. He just needed to get to the scene, he needed to be sure Arthur was okay. Then he found him. His body was still convulsing, groans filling the night air as Arthur was writhing in pain on the hard ground. 

Merlin," Arthur groaned out though painful yelps. 

Merlin pulled into the car lot moments later, and sped near Arthur, stopping a few feet from him, and without turning off his car, he jumped out and reached out towards the boy. Arthur was still speaking his name, his body no longer convulsing, his skin a golden-dead. Marlin's knees skidded the ground as he slid towards Arthur, grasping the boy swiftly and into his arms. "Oh, Arthur," Merlin said to the boy. "I'm here, I'm here," he whispered into his skin, the new scent of Arthur filling Merlin's nose. 

Arthur's eyes flickered open, softly, his breath shallow, his voice raspy. "Merlin?" he questioned, his eyes adjusting the way the world looked now, more vivid and sharp.

Merlin rubbed the new born's cheek, "I'm here Arthur," he smiled into his flesh, whispering softly into his ear. 

Merlin stood, holding Arthur in arms, his head swinging back off his biceps. He was dazed, confused, shrouded in a fog that he could not shake. "Mer-," he coughed, "I'm sorry," was all he said before becoming unconscious, falling into a deep slumber. 

A tear streamed down his face as he leaned down to kiss his forehead softly, “I am too, Arthur."

Merlin quickly sat Arthur down in the passenger seat of his car, buckling up the unconscious boy before once more that night, speeding from campus. Merlin dialed up Gaius on his phone, not caring how unsafe it was. He tapped his steering while impatiently, waiting for the old man to answer. “Merlin, it is five in the morning, what do you need?” Gaius said, obviously being woken up by Merlin, sleep and agitation in his voice.

“Gaius, something bad has happened," Merlin began, glancing every few seconds at his passenger.

“Merlin what is-“

"I am taking Arthur to Hohenzollern castle,” Merlin began frantic.

He heard the knowing sigh from Gaius, the old man knowing why they were leaving, well mostly. He knew it meant life or death. He guessed something happened to Arthur, probably being bitten. It wasn't hard for the old man to assume such based on the frantic, worried, voice from his old friend Merlin.

“Alright, I will make sure things are covered here,” he said. “Merlin, be safe. Keep that boy safe,” Gaius said,, obviously worried and a bit afraid, but knowing to trust in Merlin and that in time, he would be told of what happened that night.

“Can you get Freya from the vet Sunday and keep her until I return?," Merlin ased, "She needs to taken care of and watched and I just don't think I can do it right now. PLease," Merlin pleaded.

“Yes, Merlin, of course.”

“Thank you Gaius, I am in your debt, old friend.” And then Merlin hung up, glancing over at Arthur who was still unconscious. Merlin again dialed a number on his phone, this time a manager of his castle and told them of his plans of staying there for the next month or so, so people will not be allowed on property but for the guards and grounds keepers while he and Arthur are there. The woman complained, but she said okay and Merlin ended the call just as he passed the road sign saying, “Come back soon! To Camelot,” as he and Arthur and his dented Mustang made their way away from Camelot and towards Germany.



The drive was awfully long and Merlin only needing to stop for gas a few times for the entire two day trip. The best thing was that Arthur slept the entire time, not waking once, not even when Merlin was stopped for gas. Merlin was worried, however, scared that Arthur wouldn’t wake up. He knew it was a ridiculous thought because Arthur’s state of sleep was normal, very normal for those who’ve been turned. But some never wake up. Arthur just needed to wake up.

When they had finally arrived, Merlin couldn’t help but smile at the trees, their colors changing the further up the mountain they went. After ten or minutes, they reached the castle gates, where he was stopped buy the two armed guards at either side. “Mr. Emrys, everything has been put in place, there should be no disturbances until you make your leave,” the oldest of the guards said to Merlin.

“Thank you Wolfgang,” Merlin nodded and drove past them, stopping just before the main entrance, the Mustang being too large to fit through the small archway. He stepped out and made his way to Arthur’s side, unbuckling him and picking him up again,  one hand holding from under knees, the other at his back. He carried him down the winding pathway towards the entrance that lead to the interior of the castle, Arthur still un-waking as he did so. Merlin was slightly glad for that because it was mid-day, maybe noon-ish, the sun being very bright, even for Merlin, meaning it would be much worse for the very sensitive Arthur.

Merlin opened the doors using his mind and stepped into the large room. There were pillars on either side, evenly spaced with small desk type furniture’s and chairs sitting just between each, and as Merlin made his way towards the other set of doors, he looked upon the art and color and the memories he had about the castle from long ago, when men in armor stood at the pillars during balls or events.

Arthur shifted in his arms, his eyes fluttering open slightly before falling closed again. Merlin really needed to hurry before Arthur woke up again, Merlin knowing how hysterical and angry and scared Arthur would be, and how hungry. Without taking another step, Merlin holding Arthur tight against his chest, he closed his eyes, wind engulfing his body. The room followed suit, soon melting and into lines of color, then just fragments of light and dark. Seconds later, reds and golds and blues were dancing in the whirlpool around the two, slowing slightly seconds later and then completely.

The room around them no longer was colorful, painted with gold and white, and no decorations, or stars on the floor. The walls were grey stone, ivy somehow making its way on the inside. Merlin looked at the stairs that softly wound around a corner, leading upwards towards a room Merlin knew had no windows or much of anything but a few bookshelves and a small cot-like bed. He would put Arthur in there until he woke up and until he calmed from the change, his emotions being under control and his mind being stable.

Arthur wasn’t going to be held as though her were a prisoner, Merlin was taking such drastic measures for the safety of Arthur and the humans still left on the grounds. Arthur was turned unwillingly, and though he wouldn’t be able to remember much if anything at all, he will still be angry and scared and hungry, and most likely unable to control himself if he allowed his emotions to become him. Merlin was doing it to protect Arthur.

He placed Arthur on the bed and laid the blankets just over him, as he leaned down and placed another soft kiss on Arthur’s forehead, “Wake up yourself, Arthur, not a monster,” Merlin hardly even whispered as he stroked Arthur’s hair, "Wake up, please," Merlin said, trying to convince himself everything was going to be alright and that Arthur would wake up whole, and unbroken.

Merlin allowed himself to cry as he left Arthur in the room, slowly making his way towards one of the gardens on the castle grounds. Merlin was worried for Arthur, terrified for him. Arthur has just lost everything he’s held dear to him: his life, his love, his humanity. It was stolen from him, by Mordred, for reasons Merlin did not know but he swore, making a silent oath to himself that he would find out and kill Mordred for what he has done to Arthur. That was a promise. It would not change the hurt and pain Arthur would feel, how alone and robbed of his life, robbed of himself, he would think he was.

Merlin felt it, the change in air, the power surge becoming magnetic, the new life awakening in his castle as he read a book. It happened suddenly, Merlin shivering at the shift in the air. He placed his book down, stood from the chair he sat on and ran towards the room Arthur was in.

He stopped running when he reached the closed door that lead into Arthur’s room, taking in a deep breath, unsure of what he was to find, who he was to find. He pushed the door open, his eyes finding Arthur under seconds, as he was sitting up on the cot-like bed, sweat on his brow, his eyes wide and slightly dilated. “Arthur?” Merlin stepped through the door.

Arthur was shaking his head suddenly, “No, no,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “No,” he kept repeating as Merlin approached him.

“Arthur?” Merlin again saying his name, but Arthur stilled repeated “no”.

Just before Merlin reached the bed, Arthur was out of the bed and pushing hard against Merlin, sending him stumbling backwards at the suddenness of Arthur’s actions. “No! This can’t have happened!” Arthur was yelling, gripping tightly against Merlin’s shirt, it balling up and wrinkling in Arthur’s fists. “How could you do this to me?” Tears spilled over Arthur’s eyes as he spoke, as he yelled, his fists trembling, his body trembling.

Merlin reached out towards Arthur, in an attempt to pull him in an embrace, but Arthur simply slammed Merlin into the stone wall behind him, his new vampiric strength, shocking Merlin for a moment.

“Arthur, stop,” Merlin said calm, his eyes piercing Arthur’s, demanding him from looking away.

Arthur pressed harder, “No!” He yelled again, his tears falling harder and faster, the salty drops soaking his shirt and chin.

Merlin again reached up towards Arthur, this time grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him in, forcibly, making Arthur come closer to him for the embrace. Arthur tried to pull away, but Merlin was too strong, completely wrapping himself around Arthur, even as Arthur beat his balled fists against Merlin’s chest, “Change me back! Take it back!” He was no longer yelling at Merlin, his voice sounding defeated.

“Arthur,” Merlin again saying his name.  

He was fighting back still, his fists relentlessly pounding into Merlin’s chest, which only made Merlin grip Arthur tighter, pulling him in closer, then Arthur broke. His knees buckled from under him and he went down, Merlin falling with him, never releasing his grip, not even when they hit the floor, Arthur falling between Merlin’s legs, allowing him to embrace Arthur tighter and closer. Arthur sobbed, his fists no longer beating against Merlin, though they once again gripped tightly at his shirt. Merlin held Arthur, running his hand through his golden hair as he slowly started to rock Arthur. “It will all be alright, Arthur,” Merlin whispered into him.

“Why me?” Merlin wasn’t sure if Arthur was really asking him or if he just spoke his thoughts allowed, but Merlin still answered him, feeling it necessary to respond to Arthur.

“Great people are challenged with bad things, Arthur,” Merlin said into Arthur’s golden hair. “It’s a balancing act between the two, for without darkness, there would be no light.” He whispered, softly, still rocking Arthur as his back was pressed against the cold stone wall.

Arthur was silent. He stayed pressed against Merlin, trembling and sobbing. Merlin could feel his anguish as he was pressed against him. He could feel his anger and confusion. He could feel him, making Merlin want to cry.

He didn’t.

He stayed rocking Arthur, even after he had stopped crying and trembling. He watched Arthur shift under him and look up, his blue eyes mimicking the ocean after a hurricane. His face was puffy, his nose and cheeks red and tear stained. “I remember,” Arthur whispered, his voice raspy.

“What do you remember?” Merlin asked unsure of what Arthur was speaking of, but he was glad Arthur was talking and no longer crying.

“That night, when you saw me and Mordred.” Arthur didn’t look up at Merlin, his eyes looking down at the cold stone floor. “I remember you walking into the lockers. I remember chasing you. I remember walking with Mordred to my car. I remember asking if he needed a ride, and I remember him pinning me to my car and attacking me,” Arthur shook his head.

 “It usually takes people years to remember such events,” Merlin said surprised, “I’m sorry, Arthur.”  He said realizing how hard this must have been for Arthur. It was shocking because Merlin had never seen anyone remember the events right after being turned until years later, and even then it was only small bits and pieces, enough for the mind to handle, but not like this. Merlin shook his head, “I am so sorry, Arthur,” He whispered into his golden hair.

“Me too,” Arthur replied shaking his head against Merlin’s wrinkled and wet shirt.

“You don’t need to be sorry for an act you had no control over,” Merlin replied.

“You don’t understand, Merlin!” Arthur raised his voice, slightly, but still raised. “I’m sorry for abandoning you for him. I’m sorry for being scared and for not listening to my father or my sister, I’m just sorry, okay?” His golden locks swished against his damp brow, veiling his ocean blue emeralds, Merlin unable to look at them, though he suspected they were once again filled with tears that beat against the shores of his eyelids.

Merlin pulled Arthur much closer, their bodies pressed together as he held him, shaking his head, “No, Arthur, don’t be sorry, don’t ever be sorry,” Merlin chocked, his voice cracking, his eyes too filling with tears, though the dam of his eye kept any from falling. “Look at me, Arthur,” He asked more than told, using his hand to guide Arthur’s chin up towards him.

Arthur’s eyes were the brightest shade of blue he had ever seen, the glossy circles shinning, though tears that fell down his cheeks with a silent quickness of waterfalls. He looked so broken and lost, his face drained of any color but the soft tan that still appeared, mixed with the paleness of death; he looked sort of like a God in a way, a broken, defeated God, lost in his thoughts as he walked the Earth. “Do not be sorry for something like this. Ever. You had no control over what happened to you, no one ever does, not even if they asked for it, Arthur.” Merlin said, grabbing both of Arthur’s cheeks, keeping him from turning away.

Arthur closed his eyes when Merlin took his hands from his cheeks, Arthur’s head falling softly, his eyes looking again at the cold stone floor. He took in a breath and looked up at Merlin again, the tears still falling softly down his cheeks. “Merlin, I…” He ran a hand through his hair. Merlin didn’t give him enough time to finish what he was going to say; he leaned down, his lips meeting Arthur’s in a weary touch, Merlin feeling Arthur’s lips quivering when the salty flesh connecting.

Merlin had no idea what had come over him, or why he had done so, but he had, and he was glad. He wanted, he needed to comfort Arthur, and maybe this would help, maybe this would allow Arthur to understand he isn’t alone, and that everything will be alright. But Merlin could only hope.

Then something happened Merlin had not been expecting: Arthur bit down against Merlin’s lip, his fangs penetrating them slightly, Merlin’s blood pooling into Arthur’s mouth, with a soft groan escaping him, the pleasure tingling up his spine in a fiery passion. Until Arthur pushed back forcibly, his eyes wide with fear, his body trembling again as tears stormed down his already wet cheeks, his eyes turning pink and puffy. “Oh no, I’m sorry, God I am so sorry,” Arthur said, crying into his hands.

“Arthur, stop,” Merlin slid towards Arthur, his own blood seeping into his mouth just before his lip healed. He reached towards Arthur’s hands and uncovered his face, looking into Arthur’s eyes. “Stop being sorry,” Merlin whispered to Arthur, placing his forehead against the Blonde’s, looking deeply into his eyes. “Stop,” He repeated, placing his long, lanky fingers on Arthur’s wet cheeks, caressing the river paths away with his thumbs.

“Arthur,” Merlin said his name, Arthur’s body shivering under him, his eyes fluttering shut. Merlin again leaned in, and pressed timid lips against Arthur’s, trying again to comfort him, hoping that even an action as small as a kiss would help Arthur.

Merlin could taste Arthur’s tears falling into the crevasses of their locked lips, the salty liquid seeping into Merlin. He wished that he was not tasting the tears of Arthur. He wished that the circumstances were different, and that if he were tasting Arthur, it would just be his skin and lips, and not his tears and lips. He wished he wasn’t feeling Arthur’s trembling body or his scared shakes, but that he was feeling his pleasurable quivers and shakes that were caused by Merlin making him orgasm or just by the simple act of touching him. But not like this, god Merlin wished it was anyway but this.

Merlin was so lost in his thoughts, that he hadn’t realized that Arthur’s fingers were tangled within his raven hair tugging ever so slightly. Arthur was still crying and trembling, but his body pushed against Merlin’s roughly, sending them sliding back into the stone wall harder, Merlin's head hitting it with a thud. Arthur seemed to have not noticed.

His fanged teeth slid across Merlin’s lips again, but instead, Merlin bit the inside of his own mouth, just his cheek, his blood spilling over his tongue. Merlin waited before pressing his blood soaked tongue against Arthur’s damp lips, allowing him to taste Merlin again. Arthur’s eyes opened, his mouth pausing, his hands loosening their grasp on Merlin’s hair.

Merlin licked at Arthur’s lips, as a way of saying, “It’s okay, go ahead,” and it worked. Arthur hesitantly pressed his lips against Merlin’s again, in an open mouthed kiss, his tongue sliding into Merlin’s equally opened mouth. Merlin had to bite his lip this time, his cheek having already healed, but Arthur didn’t seem to mind when he took Merlin’s tongue and began to suck on it, softly at first, his grip on Merlin’s hair tightening with an almost painful grip, causing Merlin to lean his head back. Stop fighting it, Merlin said into Arthur’s mind.

Arthur seemed to have listened, his body relaxing in Merlin’s arms, his sucking increasing slightly, a moan growing in Arthur’s throat. Merlin shifted slightly forward, his body beginning to shake with the want of pleasure growing inside of him. He had forgotten how good it felt to be fed on, or even to feed, the pleasure searing through both parties; sexual pleasure. Merlin couldn’t help but release a moan, a completely involuntary action.

Arthur broke from this kiss, Merlin’s head being lighter than before. Arthur’s hands left Merlin’s messy hair, landing on his shoulders, but his eyes were not looking at Merlin. His eyes were on Merlin’s shirt, he thinks, maybe not even there. He was lost in space, the nebula of thoughts, of sights, of smells overcoming him. Merlin wanted to know what Arthur was thinking. He could if he wanted to, find out what exactly he was thinking, but he wouldn’t. Merlin respected the privacy of other’s thoughts, no matter how much he wanted to know. He also felt like death afterwards, the process draining him of everything, his nose and eyes bleeding most of the time as a result. Still, he wanted to know.

“Arthur?” Merlin leaned his head down slightly, trying to look passed Arthur’s shielded face.

Arthur didn’t speak. He stayed silent between Merlin’s legs, his hands on his shoulders, and his eyes somewhere off in the distance. Merlin would have repeated Arthur’s name if it weren’t for Arthur looking up and leaning in as if to kiss Merlin, though their lips stayed apart. Merlin watched Arthur’s hands slide from his shoulders and begin to trace his collar bone with a finger and down, tracing his pectoral muscle, a finger brushing his nipple sending chills down Merlin’s spine. They continued down from his pectoral and to Merlin’s abs, followed by his hips, and then to the button on Merlin’s trousers.

Merlin grabbed Arthur’s hand quickly, stopping him, “Arthur-“ Merlin began until Arthur interrupted him.

“Please, let me do this,” Arthur asked, looking up into Merlin’s eyes. Merlin shook his head, unable to completely comprehend what was happening. This wasn’t the first time he and Arthur would have been intimate, but the circumstances were different. Arthur was different. This just wasn’t some public jerk or bedroom payback. Merlin wasn’t exactly sure what this was, but it was different.

“Arthur,” Merlin started to say no, his head already shaking, but Arthur began to undo Merlin’s trouser button with his other hand. He wasn’t sure how to respond so he didn’t. He released Arthur’s other hand, and watched him, his fingers slowly working at the button followed by the zipper, sliding it down slowly, the sound echoing against Merlin’s ears.

Arthur was starting to slide his hands down, but Merlin caught them, stopping him. “Wait,” Merlin said guiding their bodies up off the floor and towards the small bed. Merlin sat Arthur down, his trousers sliding down past his waist as they walked, Arthur eyeing the 'V' his fit body made.

Merlin kissed Arthur’s cheek before sliding in between the golden haired boy’s legs, spreading them, as he did until he landed on his knees. Merlin watched Arthur, his expression becoming less sad and confused. Using his hands, Merlin unzipped Arthur’s pants, unbuttoning them with accuracy and an inhuman speed. He grabbed the fabric at his waist and pulled them down and off past his knees and ankles and feet, tossing them somewhere to his right. Arthur helped him, of course, though his hands trembled making it hard, but he still tried.

Merlin smiled up at him as he ran his nails against Arthur’s calves and past his knees, pressing harder as he reached the inside of Arthur’s thighs, sliding his fingers up the green fabric of his briefs. Arthur watched him, his eyes following Merlin’s fingers as he rested on the palms of his hands. He gasped when Merlin reached his member, grazing it softly, but quickly, his hands moving to the area around, but only as far as his briefs would allow. Merlin looked up at the moment, Arthur biting his bottom lip.

Merlin took his hands from Arthur’s briefs, grabbing the top and pilling them down and off in one swift motion, leaving Arthur’s hard cock bobbing against his shirt. Merlin smiled at it, gawking at how beautiful he was, his face slightly flushed, his cock pressed against himself, hard and pulsing, just by the soft graze Merlin had made. The sight made Merlin smile.

He grabbed Arthur’s cock softly, his thumb rubbing his already leaking tip, spreading it around and down once he started to stroke him, slowly, painstakingly slow. Merlin continued to watch Arthur’s face, his eyes no longer filled with tears or the threat of them, his face no longer wet, though stained, his cheeks slightly brighter than before. He truly was beautiful.

Merlin leaned down and kissed Arthur’s tip, his tongue licking him softly. His hand continued to stroke Arthur’s cock, his mouth sucking and licking on the tip, the taste of Arthur’s tears being erased by Arthur’s cock, which was much more tasteful than the tears. Merlin felt Arthur’s hands grip his hair when he put Arthur completely in his mouth, no longer just sucking in the tip, but now sucking him down to half his shaft. Arthur was big, bigger than Merlin would have guessed, but he was delicious and it would be worth it, it most definitely would be worth it.

Arthur moaned, when Merlin used a free hand to grab at his testicles, squeezing them in his hand. His grip on Merlin’s hair tightened, as fingers pulling up and tugging. Merlin looked up to watch Arthur’s face when he started to press Arthur’s cock further into his mouth and slightly down his throat; Arthur tossed his head back in an opened mouthed sigh, nothing escaping but air.

Merlin quickened his pace, his bobbing becoming a quick rhythm, Arthur pressing down his head with every bob, his fingers tugging against Merlin’s hair, his hips bucking upwards softly. All of Merlin’s thoughts were erased, his mind only focused the cock in his mouth and his own cock twitching painfully between his legs. He was more focused on pleasing Arthur. Arthur needed it more than him and he found that he liked to see Arthur moan in pleasure while he was going down on him.

Arthur looked at the top of Merlin’s head, watching it bob between his legs, gawking at the beautiful sight. He was close, painfully close, Merlin feeling the throbbing pressure grow in Arthur’s cock as he sucked him down. He wanted Arthur to come, he wanted to taste Arthur and feel the warm liquid sliding down his throat, his cock twitching in his mouth.

And when Arthur did finally come, Merlin was ready, Arthur’s loud moan filling his ears as he sucked Arthur’s cock all the way down to his base, letting the sticky wet come squirt deep in his throat and slide its way down. Merlin’s throat sucked, draining Arthur dry, his legs raising from the ground, his grip against Merlin’s hair becoming much tighter as he tossed his head back, in an open mouthed moan.

Merlin bobbed on him a few more times, before coming off with a pop, a sliver of saliva connecting Merlin’s swollen lips to the tip of Arthur’s cock. He kissed the inside of Arthur’s thigh, before standing up to kiss at Arthur’s lips, sharing the taste with the pleased Arthur, his heavy breaths sending chills against Merlin’s skin. “God you’re beautiful,” Merlin said through broken kisses, leaning against Arthur, pushing him on his back and sliding completely over him, straddling him at the waist.

Arthur bit Merlin’s lip softly, looking into his eyes the entire time; Merlin moaned involuntarily again. That must have sent something through Arthur because when Merlin did, Arthur grabbed Merlin’s waist and flipped them over, Merlin landing in his back with Arthur straddling him at the waist now. Merlin wasn’t going to complain as he looked at the beautiful creature above him, because Arthur was truly beautiful. Merlin grabbed the bottom of Arthur’s shirt and pulled it up and off, gazing at Arthur’s God-like physique, his muscles beautifully shaped and chiseled against his skin. Merlin ran his thumbs against the muscles as he slid his hands down his ribs, learning how every inch of Arthur felt until reaching his waist, letting his thumbs trace the bone.

Arthur gyrated his hips in one rotation against Merlin’s hard trousers, Merlin grinding and bucking his hips upwards. “Arthur,” His name was spoken with a shaky voice. Arthur placed his hands on Merlin’s still covered chest as he continued to gyrate his hips, pressing down harder with his ass into Merlin’s more than obvious erection. Arthur bit his lip as he continued to grind on Merlin, but he would slow, as though he were teasing Merlin, stopping completely at other times.

Merlin gripped Arthur’s hips tightly, and stopped him one last time, before he was slipping his trousers and boxers down in one go. Arthur sat back on Merlin, further down, leaving Merlin’s cock lined up with his own. Merlin was going to speak, to compliment Arthur or something, but he was at a loss for words when he felt Arthur’s hand rubbing him, his fingers wrapping around the base of his cock and squeezing. His head fell backwards, Arthur slowly started to rub up and down, slow and thoughtfully on Merlin’s cock.

He found Arthur’s fingers in his mouth sometime between the fourth or tenth or hundredth stroke, Merlin wasn’t sure, nor did he care. He made eye contact with Arthur and sucked on his fingers, sliding his tongue over and between the digits, making them slick and wet, until Arthur took them away, leaving Merlin’s begging mouth feeling empty. He groaned. Arthur simply smiled and reached behind himself and that’s all it took for Merlin to understand what Arthur was doing and that seemed to only make Merlin that more excited, his cock twitching in Arthur’s hand.

Arthur’s eyes fluttered closed when he slipped his fingers between his cheeks and inside himself. Using his other hand, he wrapped it around both his and Merlin’s cock from which he began to thrust against him in an unholy rhythm, all the while his fingers sliding in and out of himself, scissoring here and there, stretching himself, prepping for what he really wanted inside of him: Merlin. “Mm, Merlin, I want you in me,” Arthur moaned as he leaned down, his lips reaching for Merlin’s. "Please," he begged through the broken kiss.

Merlin moaned at Arthur’s words, his hands finding Arthur neck and pressing him in closer for a tongue filled kiss, a dance entwining them together with swirls of saliva and muscle, but all too soon did Arthur pull away, sitting up once more on Merlin. He pulled his fingers from within him and slid forward on Merlin, reaching for his cock. He pushed up slightly after grabbing Merlin’s cock and pressed it against his hole, still wet and stretched, ready for Merlin’s cock. All Merlin could do was watch Arthur and feel Arthur as he pressed the tip of him on his hole just before pushing it in. That’s when Arthur released Merlin and slowly began to slide down on him, wincing slightly as Merlin filled him up from tip to base.

They stayed motionless for a while, Arthur’s hands on Merlin’s chest, his breath heavy as Merlin squeezed his hips, wanting so much for Arthur to begin to move, but knowing it best for him to wait.

When Arthur had finally begun to move, Merlin thought he would burst then and there, almost unable to contain himself or the pleasure he felt as Arthur slid himself up and down on his cock. Merlin watched him, thinking back to so many times he had dreamed of Arthur's naked body, his cock balls deep inside of the blonde. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he wanked off to images of Arthur on him, or the fact that he wanked at all, but he couldn’t deny it now.

Merlin bit his lip when Arthur sped up and began to find his rhythm, his hands never leaving Merlin’s chest, whether for balance or just to be there, Merlin was unsure, but he didn’t care about that now. He only cared about Arthur and that Arthur was with him, in his castle, riding him.

Merlin reached up and began to rub Arthur’s nipples between his fingers, making them hard in his touch. He could see the chills against Arthur’s skin, the soft bumps forming in his chest and arms. Merlin moaned softly, as Arthur went from up and down to gyrating again at the base of Merlin’s cock. God Merlin was close, “Arthur,” Merlin moaned out.

Merlin leaned up and pulled Arthur closer and kissed him, meeting the rhythm of Arthur by bucking his hips upwards as Arthur slid down, the sound of flesh on flesh smacking one another filling both of their ears. Merlin traced a finger up Arthur’s spin before allowing his hands to becoming entangled in his hair, pulling and scratching. He pulled Arthur’s head back and kissed at his Adams apple as their bodies hit one another, sweat glistening both of their brows. “Come in me,” Arthur managed to say just before Merlin bit into his neck softly, Arthur’s blood trickling into his mouth as he sucked, Merlin unable to stop himself.

Merlin sucked hard, as he thrusted up against Arthur’s bounces, the buildup soon taking over and in a breathy moan, his head tossing backwards, he came, the hot liquid filling up Arthur. Merlin shivered at his release, Arthur riding out Merlin’s orgasm, his own moan filling the air around them. Soon, Arthur’s bounces became still, in sync with Merlin as he released Arthur’s neck and kissed his lips, holding him close. “Thank you,” Arthur whispered between their kiss.

Merlin smiled and kissed at Arthur’s flushed cheek, just before helping him off his cock and into a laying position next to him. Merlin laid next him after pulling off his shirt, allowing their bare skin to caress each other’s as they laid next to one another, the smell of sex lingering between them. Merlin pushed a leg just between Arthur’s as he laid an arm across his waist. He kissed at Arthur’s shoulder and ran a hand through his damp hair and listened to his breathing. “Everything will be okay, Arthur, I promise,” Merlin said.

Arthur didn’t respond, but he did pull Merlin’s hand from his waist and up to his lips, kissing it before intertwining their fingers together. Soon his breathand evened out as he fell asleep in Merlin’s arms. Merlin watched him, studied him, and learned him. He thought about what was to come next; he thought about Arthur’s future and how he would take the change tomorrow, wondering if he would be the same, wondering if they had sex just now simply because Arthur was still adjusting the rush of heightened emotions along with everything else. He was scared Arthur truly didn’t like him, or that he didn’t think anything of the sex. He was worried about Arthur and if he was going to fall into the depression state that most do after being turned un-willingly. After what happened today, it was more than likely. Especially since Arthur could remember, everything. Merlin was just scared, but he would protect Arthur if he could, no matter what, he thought just as he was succumbed by the darkness of sleep


Chapter Text

Merlin woke to an empty bed, naked, the smell of sex still lingering amongst the disheveled bed sheets, if you could call it a bed. It was tiny, hardly fit for one person, let alone two, Merlin hanging off one side slightly. He was impressed that neither he nor Arthur fell off during the night (maybe day?) as they slept, then again, neither moved much, at least Merlin assumed they hadn’t. Where was Arthur? Merlin shot up at the thought, looking hurriedly around the stone room, but finding no evidence of Arthur still being in there.

He got out of bed, shivering when his bare feet hit the stone floor; his socks must’ve fallen off during the night. He found his tossed trousers just in front of one of the bookshelves and slipped them on, not caring for his belt or boxers as he walked sluggishly down the winding stone stairs that lead to yet another stone room. Merlin rubbed the bridge of his nose and winced when his face was pelted with the rays of light shooting in through a window. Who decided it to be a great idea to put a window in a tower on this castle?

Arthur, Merlin was looking for Arthur, he remembered as he continued through the castle. He could have easily found Arthur with his mind, pushing out and searching for familiar blood or just blood in general, but there was a price for using powers, that’s what he referred to the little abilities, and usually the price was pain and hunger, making the thirst that much harder to contain. He guessed that when he first found Arthur, adrenaline was rushing so quickly and his mind not focused enough that he’d forgotten that there was pain involved. He shook his head as he again made his way down another set of stairs, again being stone, but no longer bland, the surrounding walls covered in painting and gold leafing, showing that the castle actually had life and character.

“Arthur?” He called out, his voice being carried around the halls and into doors, until fading away abruptly in the distance. Merlin released a sigh, running a hand through his greasy hair, a tinge of worry growing in his stomach.  He was worried, very worried, envisioning himself finding Arthur in one of the east gardens, standing just near a tall bush, the sun reflecting against his soft skin in beautiful rays of light, though blinding. Arthur’s eyes would be piercing something in the distance. A guard, probably, who’d be walking along the wall at the far end of the garden, his hand’s resting on his holster, his eyes looking at the wall and up. Arthur’s body would be trembling again, his hands balled into fists and shaking at his sides. Merlin would run at him, to stop him, but before he could, Arthur would shoot off and in a flash and he’d be pinning the guard against the wall he had just been checking. “Arthur!” Merlin would yell stepping forward quickly, reaching Arthur in a much quicker time than it took Arthur to pin the guard at the wall.

Merlin saw himself grabbing Arthur’s shoulders and pull him back, hard, sending him flying back over a nearby hedge or something, the swishing filling the air around them; Merlin glancing at the guard momentarily before going to Arthur, who was regaining his footing, stumbling to stand. He’d probably look at Merlin, the blue in his eyes tiny slivers as his dilated pupils pulsed ravenously against them…

Merlin shook his head; he would not think so irrational, it was pointless. He had no idea what Arthur was doing, and mustn’t assume he has already fallen into the almost impossible to escape black hole of thirst. For all Merlin knew, Arthur was just wandering around the castle, looking over the paintings and structures, experiencing his life with new eyes and smells and sounds. Merlin only hoped, but he didn’t have to wait long to actually find out where Arthur was, or what he was doing.

Arthur had a phone pressed to his cheek, his voice low and agitated. “Father, I can’t come home,” There was a long pause before Arthur threw his phone angrily at the opposite wall, the phone shattering into tiny bits that littered the floor. Merlin smirked as he leaned against the open archway as he looked upon Arthur in the soft red glow of sunlight, bleeding in through the stain glass window. Arthur’s skin glistened softly, though it was only his arms and neck; his chest was clothed with Merlin’s purple buttoned shirt, the buttons lazily put together, making the shirt lopsided on his shoulders. Merlin smiled at the sight. “God, fathers can be ridiculous,” Arthur sighed and turned towards Merlin.

“So I hear,” He laughed and walked towards Arthur from behind and placed his hands on his shoulders, pressing his bare chest against Arthur’s clothed back.

“He wants me to come home and continue my training,” Arthur smirked leaning back into Merlin.

“Will you?” Merlin asked, placing a kiss against Arthur’s neck.

“I don’t know,” He replied, leaning further into Merlin.

Merlin was filled with a familiar smell, “You found the fridge?” Merlin asked before again kissing against Arthur’s neck.

“Mhm,” He said. “I was hungry when I got up so I just kinda wandered until stumbling upon the fridge, filled to the brim with blood,” He sighed. “I threw up the first three bags. It was disgusting,” Arthur admitted.

“Indeed, bagged blood takes time to get used to, and after having Vampire blood, especially blood as old as mine, human blood becomes less tasteful. That’s why the Covens banned drinking from one another because it became so addictive vampires started killing vampires,” Merlin shrugged. “Probably should have stopped you last night.”

“But you didn’t,” Arthur retorted a smile across his lips.

Merlin smiled as he remembered the night just before and all of the things he and Arthur had done together. Merlin got so caught up in the memory, he nipped Arthur’s neck, the soft droplets of blood trickling against his tongue. He licked the spot, “Sorry,” He mumbled against Arthur’s skin.

“No, don’t stop, it feel good,” Arthur said grinding himself against Merlin.

Merlin grunted, “Mm, how I want to, but I can’t, not right now,” Merlin said with a sigh.

“Why not?” Arthur practically whined.

“I have to take care of some business before we can do anything, like making sure you don’t attack the first human you lay eyes on.”

Arthur groaned and pressed himself harder into Merlin, grinding softly again. Merlin moaned softly, and bit into Arthur again, not drawing blood, and sucked, bruising the skin if Arthur’s skin could be bruised. “Maybe later,” Merlin said smiling. “I will be in the east study if you need me,” and just as quickly as Merlin had gotten there, he left, leaving Arthur dumbfounded, horny, and confused, the bastard.

It didn’t take long for Merlin to find his phone and dial up Gaius. “Hello, Gaius,” Merlin was the to first speak after he heard the soft breath from Gaius when he picked up.

“Merlin,” Gaius replied, the sound of shuffling papers in the distance. Gaius was probably at work- No, Merlin knew he was at work.

“Have you found a way excuse my absence, yet?” Merlin asked walking into the kitchen, smelling the blood that still lingered on the stone.

“Yes, I have, for at least a month. Told them you went to Ealdor on personal family matters,” Gaius said as a women entered the room he was in.

“Ah, thank you, Gaius, I am in your debt,” Merlin opened the fried and grabbed himself two bags of A negative and poured them into a large cup before placing it in the microwave.

“So, why the sudden leave?” Gaius asked after a moment of not speaking to Merlin; Gaius was addressing the nurse who walked into the room he was in.

“Arthur got himself turned,” Merlin sighed as the microwave beeped and he pulled out his steamy cup of blood. Yum.


“That Mordred boy, turned him and then proceeded to leave him. That’s why I was so rushed that evening,” Merlin took a sip and leaned against the now modern kitchen counter.

“You had a vision again?”

“Aye,” Merlin answered taking another sip.

Gaius did a sort of laugh smirk thing before he spoke again. “No wonder the Covens are hunting you,” Gaius sighed. “And Arthur now, yes? Since it was unsanctioned?”

“If it was unsanctioned,” Merlin retorted. “I have a feeling something bigger is going on here; I haven’t received any calls from my inside Coven friends, like Gwaine or Percy and they usually let me know of these things. And the way Mordred acted- I just don’t know if it was completely unsanctioned,” Merlin sighed taking a gulp this time.

“Want me to look into it?” Gaius asked, saying hello to another women.

“No, that is alright. I plan getting Gwaine and Percy up here to train bat-boy anyway,” Merlin said, laughing at himself for calling Arthur ‘Bat Boy’. Obviously Vampires were not bats or even remotely related to them, but it was still funny. “You could, however, look into his sister, Morgana. I don’t trust her, and I have a feeling she knows more about this than either of us,” Merlin said pushing off the counter and made his way to one of the first floor studies.

“Yes, of course, and this Mordred boy, too?”

“That will be fine; he plays goalie on the football team, I believe,” Merlin said practically stomping down the stone stairs.

“I will,” Gaius said. “Well, I must be going, I have a patient that needs surgery. I’ll get back to you when I learn something."

"Wait, before you go, did the vet call about Freya?" Merlin bit his lip, a little worried.

"She's stable. Her fever has gone down, and they've been giving her fluids throughout her stay. They said she can go home earlier, today instead of Sunday. Want me to get her today for you?"

"Yes, please, thank you."

"Anytime, Merlin. Be careful old friend. I wont allow you to die before me," Gaius laughed.

"Don't be so daft, old man, you'll never die, I won't allow it," Merlin smiled. "Bye Gaius, and thank you."

"Good luck, Merlin," then he hung up. 

Just in time, too, because Merlin reached the study, sliding the doors open into the dusty old room. It was a large study, more a library than anything, though the books were old and more about the history and war plans of Germany than actual stories. It didn’t matter really, Merlin was here to make a few calls and do some paper work from the laptop on one of the desks. It made Merlin a little angry that they had modernized so much of the castle, but even though he owned it, he did not manage it, Germany did. He might think about buying the management rights from them so they would stop, but that was a thought still up in the air, so to speak.

Merlin huffed when he sat on the old leather chair. It was comfortable, but warn and past it’s time, the wood creaking and leather straining against the pressure of Merlin’s weight. He placed his cup down beside the closed laptop before he opened it and logged on. After which he dialed up another number on his phone, “Gwaine,” Merlin said clicking on the google chrome window.

“Hey, Merlin, long time no speak,” He said laughing, Percy’s voice penetrating Merlin’s ears.

“Hello, Percy,” Merlin rolled his eyes and smiled at the two as he typed with one hand the Camelot University Professor Email and signed on.

“So, what’s up?” Gwaine asking clearing his throat, stifling another laugh.

“Can you come to my castle in Germany?”

“Hey, buddy, if you wanted a three way with Perc and I, all you had to do was ask,” Gwaine said unable to hold in another laugh.

“Funny, but no, neither of you could handle this, thank you though,” Merlin laughed while he looked over his emails, finding one reading the school board. He clicked on it and groaned. They told him they were not going to pay him for his leave. “Can you come?”

“Yeah, when?”

“As soon as possible, we have New blood,” Merlin said sipping from his cup.

“Shit, who?” Gwaine’s voice went from playful to serious in a matter of milliseconds.

“Arthur Pendragon,” Merlin responded.

They both fell silent. Neither of them spoke for a moment. “No one in the Covens have been talking about a New Blood, or that Pendragon."

“Bloody hell, dude.”

“I need you both up here to help him train in the arms department, since I'm a terribly teacher,” Merlin clicked through various emails, most from students saying they hoped everything was alright and a few from teachers saying the same.p

"No, you like to kick ass and not let anyone learn, dick-head," Gwaine remarked, "but yeah, of course we'll come up,” Gwaine said, the sound of him kicking Percy echoing in Merlin’s ears. He smirked.

“Gwaine, I have a feeling Arthur wasn’t an unsanctioned change, but one the Coven’s wanted to keep away from anyone who might be interested in a Pendragon becoming one of us.”

“Probably why we haven’t heard a damn thing,” He sighed. “We will be there tomorrow,” Gwaine said.

“Be careful, I don’t want the Covens learning anything that could get you and Percy killed,” Merlin said.

“Aw, will be fine,” He laughed. “See you tomorrow.”

“Indeed, bring weapons!” Merlin said louder than necessary.

“Yeah, and hey, make sure the New Blood doesn’t try and kill anyone, eh?”

“I’ll keep him good and distracted, you have my promise.” Merlin smirked finishing off the last of his drink.

“Damn, that’s why you won’t have a three way,” He laughed.

“Yes, ha-ha, very funny. Bye, Gwaine,” And Merlin hung up, not wanting to hear the taunts and sexual remarks from Gwaine or Percy.

It was normal for the two to be like that, Merlin and Gwaine had been intimate on a few occasions fifty or so years back, before he met Percy. It wasn’t a relationship deal, it was a, “I need relief,” type situation and they had been great friends since. Well, that and the fact Gwaine helped get Merlin away from the Coven before they actually found him.

Merlin sighed and shut the laptop lid and leaned back in the chair. He needed to call Guin and the mechanic to fix his Mustang. Guin first, she would know about the man Merlin attacked and what happened and any leads. So he again dialed up another number, “Camelot Police Department,” said a voice Merlin did not recognize.

“Yes, could I please speak with Guinevere?” He asked politely.

“Hold for a moment,” Said the voice again before a long moment of silence. Then he heard the breathing change and a thank you before Guin spoke.

“Yes, hello?” Her innocent voice said through the phone. Merlin had not seen Guin in a few months and he had missed her company at lunch when she was on campus security duty before getting promoted. She was human, unlike most of the people Merlin knew and grew close too, but her father had been turned and killed by Uther, so they had a common enemy. She even started to fancy him, after he kept her from getting herself killed, but he told her off quickly. They were still friends though, very good friends, Merlin thought.

“Hey, are we on a secure line?” Merlin asked.

“Mm, hold on a moment,” She said the sound of buttons being pressed echoing her words. “Yes, alright, what is it? Is everything all right?”

“There was cop-“ Merlin was interrupted.

“That was you?” Merlin sighed.

“Aye, but not for the reasons you think. I let my emotions take hold, you know us Vampire, emotions being ten times stronger than that of humans,” He said laughing off the tension he began to feel.

“It is fine, Merlin, I trust you,” She replied.

“I need to know if they have any leads or if the Coven’s have taken the case on?”

“They have, but there are no leads but tread marks from a car they found near the body. They can trace it to yours, especially since you have the only American car in all of Europe,” She said a little worried.

“I will be fine, I’m not in Camelot, but I will get my tires changed,” Merlin replied. “Is that all? No leads but the tire marks?”

“Other than it being…” She broke off, not wanting to say it in a room filled with humans and maybe even a few Coven members.

“Okay, that is alright. I’m sorry,” Merlin said, getting frustrated with himself and how he allowed it to happen.

“Don’t be, no one can keep emotions hidden forever, no matter how much practice you’ve had,” Merlin pictured her smiling and that made him smile.

“Thank you Guin. I have to go now, but call me if you learn anything?” He asked.

“Of course,” and she was gone.

After that Merlin made his last call to the mechanic so he could fix the Mustang and change the tires. Merlin knew the mechanic to some degree; he had been on his service since the man was eighteen, now he was sixty or so. He never questioned why or complained, he just did what was asked of him. Merlin once asked him why and the man said, “It’s because I love my job and I love cars, and my momma always told me to not stick my nose were it doesn’t belong,” he said in his southern American accent. Johnny, was his name. Johnny Red, his last name being the Native he had in him from his “daddy’s side.” He was truly a good man, and so when Merlin asked him to come to Germany and fix his car, he never complained or gripped. He said, “Yes sir, be there as soon as I can get a ticket,” and that was that. Merlin always paid his traveling expenses and made sure he was taken care of, having to not worry about money, no matter how much Johnny didn’t want it. But when Johnny got married and he began having children, he began putting the money in the bank for his son and two twin daughters so they could go off to college or travel the world and go home to America, it was just for them.

“Thank you, Johnny,” Merlin always said before getting off the phone with him or even saying good-bye. He never actually said good-bye; Johnny hated saying good-bye. “Good-bye is what you tell someone when you never see ‘em again, like a dead man, but I’m alive and kicking, so don’t tell me good-bye until I kick the bucket,” He said once to Merlin, after working for him for a few weeks. Johnny truly is a good man; he never asked questions or snooped, not even after his first twenty years, his hair already being peppered while Merlin’s did not. No, Johnny not once asked him. Merlin figured it would take him years to find another man like him, unless one of his son’s or even daughter decides to come and work with him, but even then no one would be able to replace the man.

Merlin sighed, not wanting to think about that, as he finished everything that needed to be finished, leaving the study, only stopping by the kitchen to rinse out his cup before looking for Arthur again. Though, it didn’t take long, after he saw bits of clothing on one of stairs and in front of one of the many bathrooms.

He pushed open the door, and looked at Arthur who was laying in the claw-foot tub, his arms resting on either side, his head leaned back. “I swear it has been a week since I’ve bathed,” Arthur said looking over at Merlin who was resting his shoulder against the door frame, his arms crossing his chest. “Did you know, this castle has no showers?” He shook his head, “A modern kitchen but no shower, it’s awful,” He complained.

“Indeed,” Merlin smiled, unable to look away from the water droplets that glistened against Arthur’s arms and chest. “See you figured out how the oil lamps work?” Merlin gestured to the chandelier above Arthur, though his eyes never left the boy.

He nodded, “Yeah, but it took forever,” He sighed. “Come on in and join me?”

Merlin didn’t have to think twice before he was slipping his trousers off, leaving them someplace near the door as he walked over to Arthur who slid forward so Merlin could get in from behind. Merlin smiled and stepped in, Arthur watching him with every move. He slide down the porcelain side, leaning his back against it, doing as Arthur had previously done and placed his arms on either side. Arthur slid his back towards Merlin, resting it against Merlin’s bare chest, the water splashing against the edge of the tub like a tidal wave at a beach.

Merlin smiled and reached his hands over Arthur, letting them rest against his chest, rubbing his fingers over the smooth and wet skin as he did. Merlin loved the feel of Arthur against his skin, whether it was a simple gesture with his finger or their bodies pressed together while they had sex, he just loved it. But Merlin still couldn’t shake the image of Arthur and Mordred in the locker rooms, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it and push it out of his mind, he just couldn’t. Merlin supposes he was jealous and probably angry with Arthur still, and maybe his constant thinking of it was because he was still angry with Arthur; Merlin needed to talk to Arthur about it.

“Arthur, can I ask you something?” Merlin questioned, sliding his fingers across one of Arthur’s already hard nipple, before tracing his pectoral muscle up to his collar bone.

“Mhm,” Arthur nodded, resting his head against Merlin’s chest, just under his chin, allowing Merlin to rest his chin on the top of Arthur’s damp hair, no longer golden in color but a dirty blonde.

“Did you love him?” Merlin felt Arthur tense under him, his shoulders stiffening against his chest. Merlin regretted having asked Arthur, figuring it was not for Arthur to tell unless Arthur wanted it to be known; Merlin was foolish for asking. “Never mind, it’s not my business, forget I asked,” Merlin kissed the top of Arthur’s head before leaning back against the tub.

Arthur shifted slightly, his back pressing more against Merlin’s arm and side than being directly in the center of his chest. “No, its fine, you deserve to know,” Arthur admitted, though he sounded like he was scared, his voice soft like a whisper. “I didn’t love him,” he began. “I had become infatuated with him, but not in love with him,” he smirked softly, “The Blood Hunters, when you’re going through training, teach you about the traits of Vampire’s and how their looks and simple acts of friendship or kindness can create a sort of infatuation with them, that mimics love or like and even the blood bond, but that it’s a false bond. They said it is one of the predatory advantages of Vampires and how they interact and attract prey; I guess I just got caught up in it without realizing what was happening,” he shook his head. “We never had sex, though. That night you saw us, was the first he had ever made any attempt to have sex. I was just about to get in the showers when he came in and…” he released a sigh.

Merlin shook his head feeling like an idiot for even bringing it up with Arthur. How could Merlin be stupid enough to forget about it? “I understand, Arthur, you don’t have to tell me anymore,” Merlin said. “I’m sorry having brought it up, I should have trusted you on the matter and not been foolish enough to doubt you,” Merlin shook his.

“Were you jealous?” Arthur asked turning around slightly, only enough for Merlin to see most of his face, a small portion being shaded by the shadow of the chandelier above them.

Merlin smiled at the cocky grin across Arthur’s lips. “You would like it if I were, wouldn’t you?” Merlin chuckled.

“I love it when I can make a man jealous,” Arthur replied, licking his lips, Merlin not knowing if it were subconscious or not.

He bit his lips stifling a groan before he replied, “Prat,” he giggled and pulled Arthur back into him, wrapping his legs over his, to pin Arthur to the tub so he would no longer wander off.

“You can’t address me like that,” Arthur gripped.

Merlin smirked and leaned in close to Arthur’s ear, “Prat,” he whispered, biting his ear softly.

Arthur moaned softly, before giggling. Merlin felt Arthur’s hand trail up his inner thigh, rubbing up and around, but never close enough for Merlin to feel his fingers brush his slow forming erection. Merlin kissed Arthur’s neck softly, before stopping and leaning over the tub to grab a bottle of body wash.

Arthur groaned again, “Let me wash you,” Merlin said squirting the thick liquid onto his hand.

“Fine, you bloody tease,” Arthur said, grumpily crossing his arms.

Merlin simply laughed his response as he pushed Arthur forward slightly, so he could have better access to his carved back. Merlin began to massage the body wash into Arthur’s skin, rubbing his spine and the defined muscles on his shoulder and back. Arthur was tense, for a while, but soon he relaxed, allowing Merlin to begin to work out the knots that had formed, Arthur groaning as Merlin pressed harder. “You’re really good at that,” Arthur managed to slip out between groans of pleasure.

“Years of practice,” Merlin smiled, moving from Arthur’s back to his shoulders, pulling him in closer so he wouldn’t have to stretch out so far.

“I feel like I should be the jealous one now,” Arthur laughed, finding himself very funny.

Merlin, however, did not find it funny, and squeezed hard on one of Arthur’s shoulders, sending Arthur wincing forward, but Merlin held him, keeping him from escaping. “Ow, ow, okay,” Arthur said laughing again.

Merlin rolled his eyes and continued to massage out Arthur’s muscles all while washing his skin, but soon he finished after Arthur turned around so he could get his chest and legs. Merlin did the rinsing off of Arthur, though Arthur helped, somewhat, splashing water towards Merlin or towards himself, acting more like a child than an adult. “Come on, lighten up,” Arthur said splashing Merlin again. Merlin pushed Arthur’s head under water. Merlin couldn’t help himself from laughing at the almost-squeal that escaped Arthur as he was forced under the water.

Merlin was still laughing when Arthur came up, though he laid on his chest. Merlin cocked and eyebrow when Arthur got closer, tracing Merlin’s collarbone, all the while looking up at him. “Think your funny, funny boy?” Arthur asked, obviously playfully, as he kissed Merlin’s chest.

“I’m actually very funny, I‘ll have you know,” Merlin said smiling down at Arthur, placing his arms again on the edge of the tub.

“I see,” Arthur said again kissing Merlin’s chest, this time closer to one of his nipples, already hard from the cool castle air that seeped from the opened door, the one Merlin never shut.

Arthur nipped at Merlin’s chest, drawing blood. Merlin groaned, arching his back as he was filled with pleasure from the act. To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur didn’t stay and lick up the blood or even acknowledge what he had just done as he flicked his tongue over Merlin's nipple. But, not soon after, Arthur was again nipping at Merlin’s chest, this time staying to lick up the few drops that escaped before the wound healed.

Arthur began to trail kisses up Merlin’s neck and jaw line, reaching the corner of his mouth, followed by his lips, Merlin able to taste his blood still lingering on the soft flesh. When Arthur pressed his lips against Merlin’s, he thrusted his body forward, letting it collide with Merlin’s as he pressed himself between Merlin’s legs. Merlin moaned, the feel of Arthur’s flesh against his hardening member. Merlin bit Arthur’s bottom lip, sucking on it while he placed a hand against the small of Arthur’s back, pressing him closer, his hip bones pressing into Merlin’s abdomen. He felt Arthur reach between them, the feel of his fingers sliding down his chest sending chills through him as Arthur reached for Merlin, taking him in his hand.

Merlin groaned again, this time biting Arthur’s lip with fangs, drawing blood and letting it seep into his mouth and down Arthur’s chin, small droplets reaching Arthur’s chest. Arthur moaned and bucked forward softly, as his hand started to stroke Merlin, neither one of them caring that the water was spilling over and onto the floor. Arthur’s blood made Merlin’s face warm and his heart flutter softly against his rib cage, as the warm liquid slid into his mouth and down his throat, like a waterfall that tasted like God down his throat. Merlin gripped Arthur just under his ass with both arms and stood up, picking Arthur up as he did. He stepped over the side of the tub and moments after was pressing Arthur’s back against the stone wall, holding him still, as he trailed kisses up his jaw and to his ear, allowing Arthur’s lip time to heal, since he would in fact, take longer to heal than Merlin.

Arthur had wrapped his arms around the back of Merlin’s neck and his legs around Merlin’s waist, as Merlin started to rut against him, Arthur’s throbbing cock beating against Merlin’s chest. Merlin slowly let go of Arthur, allowing him to put his feet against the floor, while Merlin pressed his hands into the wall beside Arthur’s head. Merlin continued to trail his lips across Arthur’s neck and shoulder, making his way to his chest while raising his arms above his head, pinning them against the wall, leaving Arthur to only rut into Merlin what little he could; Merlin swears he could hear a whimper escape from Arthur, a pleading cry of sorts, which only egged Merlin on more.

Somewhere between kissing Arthur’s collar bone and cheek, Arthur had managed to turn himself around, pressing his ass against Merlin’s fully erect cock. Merlin groaned and bit into Arthur’s shoulder, not hard enough to draw any blood, but enough that it caused Arthur to press back into Merlin harder, his cock pressing against his cheeks. Merlin moaned, being so very thankful that Arthur was no longer human.

It was much easier to have sex with men when being a vampire, because when the vampire’s body is aroused, the feeling of pain or of being uncomfortable dims and when biting or drinking from them, it all goes away, only leaving them very aroused and pleasured, the pain receptors going into a sort of hibernation mode. It made having lube or condoms something not needed, since Vampires couldn’t get sick either. Saved the prep time, though it was great foreplay, prepping, and Merlin usually did prep because he enjoyed it, but right now, Merlin was not focused on prep or foreplay. He wanted Arthur then and there, and he could feel that Arthur wanted the same as he was grinding against Merlin, his whimpering continuing. At that moment, Merlin was more than thankful for being who he was.

“Merlin,” Arthur whimpered out, turning his head and biting into his own arm, trying to stifle his moans and whimpers.

Merlin bit Arthur’s shoulder again, this time with his fangs, allowing his blood to pool into his mouth once more, and oh did Arthur yell out, pushing himself harder against Merlin. Merlin reached with one hand down and grabbed himself, pressing into Arthur’s cheek until reaching his hole. He rubbed the tip against Arthur, the boy almost unable to stay still, as Merlin teased him, pressing in slightly, though not hard enough to actually enter him. He did it for a while, until he himself could no longer take the teasing as he pressed himself in, slowly, reaching up to pin Arthur’s arms against the wall by each wrist.

He slowly began to thrust, still biting into Arthur, his mind losing all rational thought or any thoughts for that matter. All he could think about was how Arthur moved under him and how his body trembled with pleasure and how his skin was dotted with the remnants of chills, the small bumps all over his arms and neck. When Merlin began to speed up his thrusts, getting into a rhythm as Arthur pushed back, he stopped biting him, licking over the wound before kissing up his neck and to his ear.

The two moved together in sync as Merlin no longer thrusted in and out, but still moved, his and Arthur’s body grinding against one another, their flesh keeping contact. Merlin moaned into Arthur, his eyes closed and their heads pressed together, Arthur’s quickly drying hair tickling the side of Merlin’s face. “Fu- Arth-“ Merlin tried to speak, but words seemed to allude him, his lips unable to form whole words. So instead of trying to speak, he used his tongue for another use as he kissed Arthur neck again, his tongue twirling and sliding across his smooth flesh. Merlin was so void of thought that when he opened his eyes and found himself and Arthur no longer at the wall, he was almost surprised, as he looked at Arthur’s tight grip against the tub, Merlin’s hands gripping Arthur’s waist just as tight, thrusting into him again, Arthur’s moans filling and echoing in the room and the corridor.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, “Merlin,” He repeated over and over as Merlin began to speed up. When he wasn’t saying Merlin’s name he was moaning loudly, rocking his hips against every rough thrust Merlin did.

A ring and vibrate penetrated Merlin’s ears, the vibrations rolling up his legs. “Arthur?” Merlin asked, unsure of how he was capable of saying Arthur’s name.

“Shit, I think it’s my phone,” Arthur replied.

Merlin smiled, getting a very naughty idea and reached for the pants Arthur had been wearing and pulled out his phone, answering the call before Arthur could tell him no or to just ignore it. “Hello?” Merlin said thrusting once and hard into Arthur, sending him rocking forward, his grip tightening much more against the tub.

“Hello, yes? I’m looking for Arthur?” Said the unsure man, though Merlin recognized the voice almost immediately.

“Ah, Coach Leon, it’s Professor Emrys,” Merlin said pounding into Arthur, who moaned loudly.

“Ah, hello, um, is Arthur around?” He asked, uncertainty in his voice.

“Sorry, Arthur is a bit occupied at the moment,” Merlin said speeding up the force and quickness of his thrusts, having to reach forward and cover Arthur’s noisy mouth with one hand while he spoke to the coach.

“That’s alright, tell him I called?” He asked.

“Of course, I will definitely let him know to call you,” Merlin said as he leaned over Arthur’s back.

“Thank you,” And Leon hung up.

Merlin was thankful the conversation was short and tossed Arthur’s phone, which had Arthur bite Merlin’s hand. Merlin moaned when Arthur began to suck, causing Merlin to thrust with a much quicker pace, as he reached down to Arthur and began stroking his throbbing cock, Arthur biting a little harder, probably to stifle another moan. “God, Arthur,” Merlin managed to get out as he pressed in and out of Arthur, fucking him like a wild beast. He wanted Arthur to feel him there for days, the thought making his mind go wild. He eventually slowed himself down so he wouldn’t come so soon, at least he hoped it would help, but the slower pace allowed him to feel Arthur around him, squeezing and pushing against him, it allowed him to feel each muscle in Arthur straining with every slow thrust, and each vibration from Arthur’s moans through his hand and body. Slowing was most definitely not helping Merlin in the slightest.

Merlin didn’t want to keep looking at Arthur’s back, even though he had a gorgeous back. But his face was even better to look at, with each open mouthed moan and lip bite. Merlin pulled out, Arthur groaning his complaint as Merlin did so. Merlin turned Arthur around, grabbing his hand and guiding him to the floor, letting his back hit the cold surface as Merlin lay over him.

Arthur bit his lip as he looked up at Arthur, his cock beating against his chest as he looked at Merlin’s face. Merlin smiled down at him, placing himself in between Arthur’s legs, while he leaned down to kiss the lip Arthur had just been biting. Merlin was greeted with eager lips, Arthur’s tongue already probing against Merlin’s lips, asking for entry which Merlin lovingly gave, opening his mouth, letting Arthur slide his tongue in to map out his mouth before their tongues slid into each other, creating their own dance. All the while they kissed, Merlin lifted Arthur at the hips softly, letting himself slide back into Arthur and continue his thrusting as before, starting off slow again. Arthur moaned into their kiss as Merlin filled him up again, his cock throbbing between them while Merlin thrusted into Arthur.

Arthur eventually wrapped his legs around Merlin as Merlin began to thrust much quicker, his and Arthur’s body rocking back and forth with each one, both of their bodies being glazed with a nice layer of sweat. Arthur slipped his hands up into Merlin’s raven locks, entwining his fingers and pulling, Merlin moaning at the feel of Arthur’s fingers in his hair. Merlin couldn’t take much more before he was going to come, “Arthur,” he said warning Arthur that he was close. Arthur only gripped tighter at Merlin’s hair.

Merlin reached in between them and starting stroking Arthur quickly, gripping him at his base first, squeezing, tightly before he started his strokes. With each thrust into Arthur, Merlin’s hand quickened its pace around Arthur’s throbbing cock. He could feel Arthur getting close, really close, but Merlin was the first to come as he yelled Arthur’s name. He continued his thrusts into Arthur as he rode out his orgasm, even after Arthur had orgasmed himself, Merlin still thrusted, though he gradually got slower until he had completely stopped.

They both pressed their damp foreheads together as their heavy breaths collided in the space between them, the only sound being their hearts rampaging against their rib cages and their heavy breaths. Merlin’s eyes were closed as he took in all of Arthur’s scent and the feeling of his body, the world becoming only him and Arthur joined as one in this one moment, Merlin only wishing the moment would last forever. He opened his eyes and smiled down at Arthur, and kissed his lips softly, after his breath had calmed down and became less frantic.

“I’m going to kill you if Leon knows I was having sex,” Arthur said looking up at Merlin, and tugged on one of his large goofy ears.

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” Merlin said kissing Arthur’s cheek before pulling out of him and sluggishly standing, helping Arthur up moments later. “At least it was the young coach, and not the other one,” Merlin said smiling as he pulled Arthur into a hug.

“Mhm,” Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Oh speaking of phone calls, I have a few friends coming to stay with us tomorrow,” Merlin said finding his pants and picking them up, as Arthur did the same.

“You have friends?” Arthur gasped sarcastically.

“Yes, and one’s that are going to kick your arse when you start training,” He smiled at Arthur before he disappeared down the corridor.

“Training, what training?” Arthur yelled jogging from the bathroom and towards Merlin.

“You will see,” Merlin smiled laying an arm around Arthur’s hip and tugged him close as they walked from the bathroom and towards a new room, one that was had a large king-sized bed instead of a cot-like bed and large red drapes that covered the windows, with a wardrobe on one corner and a wall of mounted armor and weapons the opposing.

“Why couldn’t we have stayed here last night?” Arthur gripped dropping his clothes near the door before walking towards the bed, laying on it face first.

“Because you couldn’t be trusted to not kill anyone, so you stayed in the tower,” Merlin said rolling his eyes as he laid by Arthur, pulling him close.

“Not fare,” Arthur said turning to face Merlin.

Merlin simply smiled and kissed Arthur as Arthur scooted closer, laying his head under Merlin’s chin and curling up against him while Merlin pulled the comforter and sheets over them and soon they both were drifting off in sleep.

Chapter Text

He is strong, he is lithe, he is certain.

And he is mine.

That’s all Arthur knew - maybe that’s all he really wanted to know. The last few weeks of his life were turned upside down, Arthur being caught in the spaces between like a lost child in a crowded street. Lost and scared. And alone. Yes, Merlin was there, his beautiful creature, the one that made it go away, but still Arthur couldn’t help feeling alone. He’d like to have blamed the new emotions, and it probably was true, but Arthur couldn't know for certain. This, the vampire thing, it was all new to him. Yes he was training to hunt them, he did hunt them, but being one? It changed everything. Maybe Merlin was lying, too. He seemed an honest man, but...Arthur ran a hand through his hair. But Arthur didn't really know him. They were still strangers, at two ends of a blade.

But, he was certain, almost at least, that he was feeling the affects of being not human. He was lost in the world of emotions that shifted constantly, the feeling of the nagging hunger that never quite settled in his stomach; he wanted to be left alone, but he also wanted to be touched, everywhere, but only by Merlin and also not by Merlin. He would have feelings of bliss and happiness but then in seconds it would form into anger or annoyance. It was infuriating for him. Arthur wished he had never met Mordred or Merlin, he wished that his father wasn’t who he was or he who he was. 

He was falling in love with Merlin.

He wasn’t sure if it was the heightened emotions or not. The soft glow of his pale face when he smiled and when he played the violin he became a creature of wonder. He was resplendent most when he had nothing on, allowing Arthur to gawk at his ancient yet young body, the muscles that strained when he took in a breathe, the rise and fall of his chest. It was so strange to be falling in love with someone so soon, but Merlin was Merlin. Everything about him… Arthur was scared of him. After growing up with a Father who damned all like him, Arthur still couldn’t help but feel vulnerable and scared around him, jumpy and always alert. He was scared of himself most. Of what he could do if he were to lose control of the hunger or anger.

“Arthur?” Merlin’s soft voice penetrated the thoughts of Arthur, causing his body to tense slightly at the suddenness of him.

He shifted to his side and faced Merlin, his raven hair disheveled and tangled as it was pressed against the red pillows. “Hey,” Arthur smiled as Merlin’s eyes shifted open, revealing the marvelous blue that was his eyes; the blue that seemed to glow, though they were dark, like the ocean on a starry night, with a full moon high in the sky, as the soft bioluminescent creatures floating on the surface of the rolling waves.

“Are you alright?” Merlin’s voice was low, his brow pinched together in worry and maybe even a little pain?

Arthur tried to give his best reassuring smile, a bit cocky and a bit…

Fake if he were going to be honest with himself. He was glad to be laying by Merlin, waking up to his child-like hair and goofy ears, but the nagging feeling of being alone and lost nipped at the surface of his happy emotions. “Of course,” he finally managed to say, pressing in closer to Merlin’s chest, wanting to feel the comfort of body heat radiating from him, the warmth slithering around like tendrils on his own body.

Merlin leaned over and kissed Arthur’s forehead, sending a chill down his spine as his lips touched the space above his brow. Arthur instinctively closed his eyes, enjoying the soft contact of flesh against flesh. Merlin leaned his forehead against Arthur’s, looking into his ocean blue eyes as if he was searching for something but not quite being able to find it. He was actually looking at Arthur, his body, his soul, his heart. He had never, not by his mother, not father, not sister, no one had ever looked at him like that. His breathe faltered, his heart stopped. He felt loved. Truly loved in that moment. “Alright,” Merlin finally said breaking their silence and loud river of Arthur's thoughts. “You’ve training in a few hours.”

Arthur groaned and pushed Merlin’s face away with the palm of his hand. “Shh,” he giggled and rolled over attempting to avoid what was to come when Merlin retaliated.

And he did.

He gripped Arthur by a shoulder and pushed him onto his back, rolling over onto him, pinning him at the arms. “Rude,” he let leave his lips before placing them softly against Arthur’s. “Come, get ready,” Merlin said and then placed another kiss on Arthur before leaving him in the bed and disappearing down the dim corridor.

“Where are you going?” Arthur yelled out, lagging behind, really not feeling like getting out of bed.

Merlin reappeared with two steaming cups of what Arthur figured to be blood, his sustenance now, ten minutes after disappearing. Arthur still hadn’t left the bed, the red sheets entwining around his waist and one of his thighs. “Arthur,” Merlin shook his head with a smile as he watched Arthur.

Meeerrrliiiin,” Arthur moaned as he stretched his arms high above his head, purposefully arching his back and spreading his legs slightly. He looked at Merlin who was stopped in his tracks at the display. Arthur winked at him when he laid back down. He knew exactly what he was doing, he had a sudden sexual urge come through him which he figured was the new-vampire-emotions thing or maybe it was the fact that Merlin was still naked.

Merlin strode over to the bed and looked down at Arthur. “Come on,” he said with a soft smile.

Arthur reached up and slid his finger down Merlin’s bare chest and bit his lip softly, “You come here,” he almost pleaded towards the vampire who leaned over him.

Merlin rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help and smile at his lover entwined in the royal red silk sheets. He set the mugs down on the table to the side of the bed and was caught in the arms of Arthur and flipped over on his back. Arthur leaned down, roughly kissing Merlin on the lips before he could voice his disapproval.

“Arthu-“ Merlin tried to speak when he was given a chance but Arthur was too quick to press his lips to Merlin’s again.

Arthur’s hands grasped at Merlin’s neck on either side as they kissed, Arthur slowly moving his hips back a forth on Merlin’s waist. He moaned, Merlin moaned. “No, Arthur-“ Arthur kissed him. “Arthur,” he was kissed again, a hand grasping his hip and squeezing all the while his hips still moved, Arthur feeling just how excited he had made Merlin. He had forgotten about his emotions for a time and even what he, what they were supposed to be doing, though he longed for blood. He could hear the blood coursing through Merlin and he could smell it coming from the mugs to his side. It was all very invigorating.

“Merlin?” Called a voice from the corridor.

Merlin pushed up from Arthur, “Arthur, they’re here.”

Arthur pushed him back down, “They can wait,” he said kissing at his neck.

“Arthur,” Merlin threatened through a breathy voice.

Arthur nipped at Merlin’s earlobe, even after he heard a giggle from the doorway, and a clap of hands echo in his ears.

Merlin’s head shot up, “Gwaine, you’re early,” he said with a sigh before letting his head fall down on the pillow.

“Didn’t tell me your boy-toy had such a nice arse,” Gwaine said followed by a whistle. There was a loud smacking sound and a howl from Gwaine, “Percy what the hell?” he laughed.

“Come on Arthur,” Merlin laughed and pushed Arthur off him. “Put some clothes on too, don’t want to get the boys excited,” Merlin whispered in Arthur’s ear as he stood up and left him still slightly entwined in the red sheets. He grabbed his cup of les-steamy blood and smiled towards Gwaine and Percy before slipping behind the doorway leaving only his scent and the sound of his echoing feet in Arthur’s ears.

Arthur groaned and just let Merlin’s scent fill him instead of focusing on the world of emotions that would inevitably come back crashing down.


Chapter Text

Merlin shook his head as he and Percy made their way to one of the first level libraries while Gwaine and Arthur frolicked and waved swords at one another in the courtyard. Merlin had watched them for a time before he and Percy left, allowing Merlin a chance to view his lover with no shirt and a sword in hand; he was great with a sword, surprisingly enough. He had a natural stance and hold on the hilt and he let it become part of him- an extension to his body- rather than just an object used to kill and protect.

Sadly though, Merlin could not watch them all day. He and Percy had more pressing matters that was life and death and the safety of them all, specifically: Arthur.

“Percy, you said you had information on the Covens?” Merlin had asked once they reached the library.

Percy sighed as he slumped into one of the old leather chairs. “Yes and it isn’t good,” he said.

“Is it ever?” Merlin asked with an almost smile as he made his way to a chair just across from Percy and sat, letting the old leather engulf his body like a soft hug.

Percy smirked, “Suppose you’re right, ‘specially with you.” He crossed his legs, the jeans he wore straining at his muscular calves. “Well, it isn’t all that bad. The Covens did not sanction Arthur being turned, but they’ve found out about it. They could care less that a child has turned someone all because he’s a Pendragon.”

“They believe if they can find him and bring him in, that he will join sides with them and destroy the entire Pendragon blood line followed by the entire Hunter sect.” Percy smirked. “Too bad we found Arthur first.”

“They don’t care that Mordred turned him without Council approval?” Merlin asked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Apparently not but they know you’re involved,” Percy said as though the words spoken were somehow cursed.

“What? How?” he asked, worry filling him.

“Mordred, probably. We fear it is because both you and Arthur vanished from the University grounds at the same time, and that you worked there. Mordred was probably brought before the council and told them of your working there and your involvement with young Pendragon,” Percy said taking in a deep breathe.

“Why have they kept it so secret from you? You are a Council Records keeper and Warrior, they usually tell you everything so you know what to protect and keep record, yes?” Merlin stopped leaning on his elbows and straightened his back.

“Yeah, well, Mordred is a twit who had probably given the council a plan witch mean extensive secrecy,” Percy frustratingly ran a hand through his hair.

“Do you know of the plan?” Merlin asked laughing at how Percy called Mordred a twit, a word he hadn’t heard from his mouth in a long time.

Percy sighed, “No, but Gwaine sure has brought a few wonderful ideas,” he said with a laugh.

“What about Morgana?” Merlin’s voice was low and he looked at the library entrance to make sure Arthur wasn’t coming; he could feel him coming if he were, but Merlin still did out of habit mostly.

Merlin could see his jaw clench as Percy stood from the chair and walked towards one of the large wood bookcases. “She is still with him. They have begun seeing one another in secret, along with her sister, a council member nonetheless,” Percy said not making eyes contact with Merlin. “They are planning something, big, and we still are not sure about what.”

Merlin clenched his fist together and shook his head. He knew of Morgana and her involvement, he could smell Pendragon blood in the air when he found Arthur that night, but it wasn’t Arthur’s. Mordred most likely had become mates with her in order for him to smell like her and carry her blood. She was in on it. So, secretly, Merlin had been getting information on them both from both Gwaine and Percy. It was not looking good for any of the Pendragons at this point.

“You mustn’t tell Arthur, Percy,” Merlin began. “He is already fragile in heart and mind, but this would utterly destroy him if he found out that his own sister assisted with the destruction of his mortal life.”

“I know Emrys, you do not have to keep telling us,” Percy turned with a smile. “We’re your friends, you can trust us,” he said. “You need to be the one to tell him and only you know when that will be and how that will be, but do not wait too long, Merlin,” Percy warned. “It nearly killed me when Gwaine hadn’t told me of my turning until long after.”

“I know, I’m just worried about him…” Before Merlin could say anymore, he could feel how close Arthur was. He stood from his chair and faced the door just as the two boys jogged in sweat dripping down both of their chests, Arthur’s golden hair plastered to his forehead.

“Someone is here,” Gwaine and Arthur said at once.

“Wolfgang called and said they have picked up quick moving human life forms outside the walls a mile or so,” Gwaine continued.

“What?” Merlin said shocked but his phone rang keeping him from asking questions as he answered it. “Gwaine, call Wolfgang to get the cars.”

“He’s already ahead of you, the cars are ready,” Gwaine said.

“Merlin, you need to leave Germany, now.”

“We already are. Who is it?” Merlin asked walking from the library.

“For some reason, Uther thought the idea of Arthur being gone and just vanishing without a word but a phone call was weird. He traced the call.” Gaius said. “He has sent out a team to retrieve Arthur. Don’t come home. Law enforcement has that bloody car of yours tagged,” Gaius said.

“I thought Guin took care of that?” Merlin asked.

“She was too late to tamper with case,” Gaius said with a sigh.

“Where do you suppose we go?” Merlin asked.

“I do not know,” Gaius said before Merlin hung up.

“Wolfgang called and has the place on lockdown. Units have been put out, but only a few,” Gwaine said.

“How far out do you think they are?” Merlin asked.

“A mile or so according to Wolfgang. We need to move now though,” he said.

Merlin and Arthur were first to head down the pathway leading towards the main gate were Wolfgang had the cars ready; Percy and Gwaine gathered up the swords but soon followed. A slight wind picked up and Merlin smelled them, along with the faint scent of gunpowder and fresh blood, the sound of a few drops hitting the fall foliage filling Merlin’s ears. Merlin turned towards Arthur whose jaw was clenched. He reached for his hand and let his fingers slide in between his and squeezed. Arthur, just breathe and don’t think about it, Merlin said to him as they rounded a corner that lead right to the main gate. Focus on me, the sound of my heartbeat, the sound of the wind hitting the trees.

“Merlin, they are here,” Percy said before Merlin could see or hear a response from Arthur.

“Arthur, get to the car,” Merlin said releasing his hand.

“What? No, I can help,” Arthur said, stopping.

“No Arthur, they are after you and I cannot take the risk of them getting to you,” Merlin said, “if they find out you’ve been turned, they will kill you without a thought,” Merlin said. "Get to the fucking car, Arthur," Merlin growled. 

“Merlin is right, Arthur,” Percy said. “You’re more important than those two old birds, c’mon,” he said. Arthur opened his mouth as though he were going to speak but when he looked at Merlin he knew it was true, so he followed Percy and they both made their way towards the vehicles.

“Merlin,” Gwaine said tossing a sword at Merlin who grabbed it out of the air by the hilt and held it ready.

“You still remember how to use one?” Gwaine said laughing.

“Don’t forget who taught you how to use one, Gwaine,” Merlin said though he was not as cheery as Gwaine. He knew Gwaine was attempting to lighten up the mood, but it was in vein. Too much was at stake, Merlin wasn't in the right mindset to fight off highly trained vampire hunters, and worry about Arthur, and everyone else. Merlin could not do it. Merlin had lived too long to be optimistic when he was protecting someone. His mind was running over the possibilities and fatal outcomes. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Gwaine asked as he turned in a large circle and looked at the wall surrounding the area.

“We can’t have them following us,” Merlin said.

"Death to them, then," he responded. "I've got you back, Merlin," he nodded to Merlin, almost as though he were bowing at him.

Merlin returned the gesture before turning on his heel, to ace the source of shuffling feet. “Wolfgang, you have the units out?” Merlin asked as the man approached him from the opened gate.

“Yes, and we have detained two of their men already,” he replied once he was standing in front of Merlin.

“There are eight of 'em left,” Gwaine commented with an annoyed sigh.

“Why don’t we take the cars as a diversion and you lot take Der verlorene Pfad?” Wolfgang asked.

“The Lost path? I thought it was blocked off, Emrys,” Gwaine said giving an annoyed look at his elder.

“We unblocked it,” Merlin shrugged. “It’s a good plan, meet us at the end of the path,” Merlin said waving his hand at the cars. "Come, we are not taking the cars", he said to both Arthur and Percy.

They both stepped out and in their places two men each entered them. “Take care of my America,” Merlin gripped the forearm of Wolfgang, Wolfgang returning the same gesture. Using his other hand, Merlin to pressed their foreheads together, his hand resting on the back of Wolfgang's skull. "Take care of yourself, old man," Merlin closed his eyes and pressed his lips on the man's forehead.

"Get out of here, Master Emrys, save your people. I'll save mine," Wolfgang responded as the two broke apart.

Merlin tossed Arthur a sword and turned towards the rest of the group. As he walked, he reached behind himself and pulled from his waistband a Colt M45A1, a US Marine standard issue close quarter weapon. "Hey, why does he get a gun?" Gwaine remarked.

"Because I don't have a sword now, besides, you lot are much better at swordsmanship than I am, and I like guns, sue me?" Merlin rolled his eyes as he cocked the gun, making sure a bullet was ready in the chamber.

They began to make their way through a hedge that held old crumbling stairs which lay almost vertical and into the ground. “What is this?” Arthur asked amazed.

“Magic,” Percy said patting him on the back as they followed Merlin down into the black depths.

Sadly there were no torches for Arthur but the simple light from Merlin’s phone. It would have to suffice but luckily they wouldn’t be in the depths of the ground for long. “Magic?” Arthur questioned as the boys were forced into single file as the tunnel became tight-fighting.

“Yes, Magic,” Merlin replied. “It is not practiced in its true form today, not by many, mostly old Chinese women or Native American Shaman, Medicine men, even some warlocks and witches, but most refrain from using it at all,” Merlin said.

“Yeah, when the Blood Hunters arose, they nearly whipped out the entire magical community for the better part of two hundred years before they all went into hiding,” Percy said.

Arthur didn’t reply, leaving the walk in the darkness silent for a long time. They eventually came out of an opening that was canopied by roots and trees. Merlin could see the sun just starting to set which was a plus but they would all be tired after living on the human schedule for so long, even Arthur despite himself being a college student. “We will be walking for another mile or so before we will meet up with the Unit but keep an eye out and an ear open, we are not too far from the walls,” Merlin said.

“How’d they find us?” Arthur asked as he caught up with Merlin.

“Your phone call,” Merlin simply replied with.

“He won’t stop,” Arthur said. “Not until he finds me. That is why Morgana never left,” he said shaking his head.

Merlin knew all too well that it was not because of that, but it was not yet time for Arthur to know. He wasn’t sure if he was even going to tell him and just let him find out on his own, but it would be wrong of him not too. Secrets are never good.

“We are we going now?” Arthur proceeded to ask.

“Scotland, maybe, or Ireland,” he said. “Where would you like to go?”

Arthur paused a moment, his eyes glazing over with a sheet of thought as he looked without looking. “We could go to Russia?” Arthur asked.

Gwaine laughed and pushed Arthur’s shoulder. “Nope, not Russia, definitely not Russia,” he said.

“Why not? Moscow is beautiful,” he said.

“Yes, well, you are not Vampire yet,” Gwaine said with a smirk.

Merlin rose his hand to quiet Gwaine before he said something he shouldn’t, “Vampire life there is hard. They have their own faction of Blood Hunters who are like the Swiss Army compared to normal law enforcement,” Merlin said looking up through the trees at the yellowing and orange sky. “They have been trained since birth and have been bred like dogs to get the best; they are very dangerous and very hard to spot. It would not be a good idea with you still being new blood.”

“Oh,” Arthur said.

There was a stiff pause, awkward and tension filled as they all walked through the foliage of the German forest. “Romania,” Arthur finally said. “We should go to Romania.”

“Why Romania?” Merlin asked smiling at the golden haired boy next to him.

“I used to go there as a kid,” he said. “Hadn’t been there for years, not since I started training, but it was beautiful,” he replied with closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath as though he was smelling the Romanian air.

Merlin nodded, “I Haven’t been there for a long time,” he said. “We will go to Romania then,” he smiled and reached out for Arthur’s hand. “Good with you two?”

They nodded their agreement on the new location letting the rest of their walk fill with small chatter and unimportant conversation that got them nowhere really, but a few laughs. It was nice and calm. Merlin wasn’t used to that, so it was a good change, a good change he thought. They soon arrived to the location said but the cars were not there and the scent of blood swiftly made its presence known.

Merlin stopped and pulled Arthur closer, their shoulders rubbing against one another’s. Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hand tightly. “Where is it coming from?” asked Arthur through broken words.

“They drove past here,” Merlin said. “A body is in the ditch on the other side of the road,” he shook his head. “It’s Dok.”

“Do you still have your phone, Merlin?”

“Mhm,” Merlin pulled it from his pocket with his free hand and tossed it towards Percy who quickly dialed up a number.

“Whose he calling?” asked Arthur.

“Leon,” Merlin said to Arthur silently. “An old friend of ours who lives in Germany.”

Percy quickly hung up and placed the phone in his own pocket. “Leon is going to talk to Wolfgang,” he said.

Arthur had a confused look on his face, “They are blood bonded, but not because of the typical reasons. Leon saved Wolfgang a long time ago after Leon’s wife died. He was her friend. They have saved each other in a way and are great friends.”

“Why is he here, then?” Arthur asked.

“That is a story for another time,” Merlin simply replied and let silence fall over the small group of four.

Then, everything changed.


Chapter Text

There they stood, in the small clearing of the forest, surrounded. Everything had happened so quickly, no one had a chance to comprehend the events until moments after bullets where wheezing by their heads. Seconds ago they had just gotten off the phone with Wolfgang and now this.

They had been surrounded by the Blood Hunters. They must have been followed or something, that had to be the case, but Merlin could not be sure. Especially after he felt the burning pain in his shoulder from a bullet that had such a velocity that it knocked him backwards. He knew it came from at least twelve miles away, a sniper, young boy, thirty years maybe. He could smell his fingers on the bullet as it penetrated him. He groaned and grasped at his shoulder as he heard the clicks of guns being cocked around him, a group of twenty or so men. Merlin couldn’t smell them, or hear them. He felt another shot, same boy, same distance, different part of his body hit-chest this time- Merlin faintly remembers, the feel of the bullet penetrating his heart, the sound it made cracking in his ears.

It was a painful, liquid fire in his veins. He could remember Arthur's yell followed by an arm reaching for him - not Arthur’s but Gawaine’s. His world became dizzy and very incoherent. Everything was as if he were in a tunnel and the voices were miles away.  He’d never been shot he thought. He laughed. As old as he was, he realized he had never been shot. Stabbed yes, but not shot. It was an odd realization he thought to himself as his blood spilled onto the ground. There was not much thinking after that. Soon the light from the sun and trees all swirled, the colors mixing into a tunnel, a black hole, consuming what light was left until there was nothing but black.


 Day's Later

Merlin took in a sharp painful breath as he shot up in the darkness of a room that was slightly familiar, though it smelled different. He reached up and brushed his fingers over the spot where he remembers sharp pain and blood. A bullet? He looked. His flesh had healed leaving nothing to remember the wound by but his tender flesh. A small groan filled his ears.

He looked at the end of the bed and saw ears perked and a small tail wagging as her head was tilted to the side. She had been laying with her head in her paws, watching him, before Arthur woke. “Freya,” Merlin said reaching out for her. She jumped up and bolted herself into him, wagging and squirming with excitement. Merlin couldn’t help but smile at her. It had been a long time, he thought. But his happiness soon faded as another filtered into his mind.

“Arthur!” he yelled and jumped from the bed and ran to the door that was already open, Freya following at his side, looking up at him every other step. He followed familiar smells down a long corridor until it came to an opening that was a living area or maybe a study? Everything was all so fuzzy. He squinted as he looked into the fire blazing in the old stone fireplace, two red couches just in front. He saw the figures on the couch as his eyes adjusted to bright the flicker of light the fire was emitting throughout the room. They had been whispering, but Merlin couldn’t remember or care as to what was being said.

But something then had changed. The room grew cold and the fireplace went out. The figure faded from site and then everything in the room did the same, leaving dark empty stone walls. Freya too was gone. Merlin turned circles and yelled, out of fear and the pain that was riddling his body. He fell to the ground, gripping his abdomen.

Blood pooled into his mouth. His bones felt as if they had been breaking and in a single blink, the room was brightly light and Merlin was strapped down.

He was weak and he hurt. He could see his blood on his bare chest and arms and when he looked ahead, he saw himself in the reflection of a one sided window. He coughed dryly, despite the blood that pooled into his throat and mouth. How did he get here? He shook furiously at the restraint on his arms and legs but was only replaced with painful cuts and tightening.

He got incredibly lightheaded and the blinding lights above him were excruciating. He heard a sound, maybe it was a door but everything was ringing and loud and uncomfortable, and god he was too weak. Arthur, he kept thinking through the pain. All he wished was that Arthur was okay. And then darkness once more consumed him.


Merlin couldn’t help but release a smile as he walked into the corner store to retrieve his wife’s medicines. Merlin looked upon the brown haired boy in a white apron who was standing behind the counter, placing medicine and herb bottles on the shelves above him. He was stretching his firm arms up causing his shirt to tighten round his waist, showing off his chiseled back muscles causing Merlin to pause at the beautiful sight. There was an old rusted bell above the door to notify someone’s entry, but the man made no move to turn from his duty, leaving Merlin to walk to the counter and wait patiently.

The brunette finally turned around, his golden eyes meeting Merlin’s with a gracious smile. “Hello, Mr. Emrys, are you here for the usual?” he asked, whipping his hands on his apron.

Merlin gave a soft nod and the blonde smiled. “Let me get these gentleman their things and I’ll be right with you,” he said.

“Take your time, Mr. William,” Merlin replied ,tapping the counter  with a finger before moving out of the way so Mr. William could get the men their herbs or whatever it was they were there for, Merlin couldn’t really care.

Merlin placed his arms around his back as he strode along the aisles glancing at everything and nothing, a few times looking back at the man behind the counter as he made small talk with the costumers. It wasn’t long before the last of them had gone, leaving only Merlin and the Will. Will smiled as Merlin approached the counter, hands in his pant pockets. “It’s almost closing,” Will said leaning his waist against the counter top.

Merlin leaned over the counter, a smile on his lips as he grew closer to Will's face. Will's eyes darted towards the door before reaching towards the oil lamp to turn it down in a swift motion “Let me lock up,” he whispered, pushing off the counter and making his way towards the door.

Merlin sighed and turned around to watch the younger man walk away as his fingers worked the knot that tied his apron at his back. Merlin thought for a moment as to why he actually wore an apron, but God did he look good in one. Maybe it had to do with chemicals? Merlin wasn’t sure but soon all thought faded as Will walked towards him through the mostly dark shop. Will was pulling his shirt untucked and pushing his suspenders over his shoulders, letting them fall to his sides. When he reached Merlin, he pulled off his newsboy cap and pushed his back into the counter behind him. Will waited patiently, looking unto the eyes of the taller, raven haired man. Merlin leaned in close, so close, but their lips had not quite touched. Merlin placed his hands at either side of Will, his fingerprints dirtying the once clean glass. Merlin bit his lower lip before it was captured by Will's in a fierce collision of flesh.

Merlin swam in the warmth he felt when William's lips touched his. He remembers the first time he felt those lips. It was the night of Will's wedding, be had just been married and they were at the party afterwards. Will had spilled a red wine on his suite and Merlin helped him clean it up. They were alone in the guest house of the Plantation Mansion and Merlin was helping him take his suite jacket and shirt off. They were close, the breath from Will brushing against Merlin’s face and then it happened. He leaned in and kissed him, without a thought. He apologized quickly after he pulled away but William pulled him back in and ever since that night, they had been lovers, even just  for a short time, the small life the boy was going to live, he would enjoy it.

Will's fingers trailed down Merlin’s arms, coming to a stop on his hands. Will leaned in closer, pressing his chest into Merlin’s, pressing a leg between those of the man that was pinning him to the counter, letting it rub against the forming erection Merlin had. Merlin's lips trailed from William's lips to his cheek, then his jaw and down to his neck. Merlin let out a soft moan when he felt a forced tug from his neck, Will wrinkling his tie, forcing Merlin closer and their positions to flip, Will now the one pinning Merlin to the counter.

Merlin moaned  again as Will pressed his lips on his neck, his teeth brushing against the tender surface which sent chills throughout his body. Will smiled, Merlin could feel his lips turn up on his skin and Merlin couldn’t take it. He pressed off the counter, pushing Will backwards softly, placing his hands on his waist for balance and to guide him. He pulled Will to him while turning him around to where Merlin once stood. It was a game of back and forth, Will being pinned to the counter, Merlin, then back to Will.

Will kissed Merlin’s lips again as they spun, Merlin’s hands trailing down from the boy's waist to the button keeping his pants closed , Merlin's curious fingers slowly pushing the button from its cloth restraints. The bulge in Will's pants would have popped the button off, so Merlin was doing his pants a service by doing it himself. Merlin let his curious fingers slide beneath the fabric, over his trousers, where they mischievously began to rub the member beneath the ungodly fabric.

With his free hand, Merlin reached behind Will, brushing his fingers into the brunette's hair, before tugging, hard, forcing his head backwards, a moan spilling from his lips. "Mmm, tell me William," Merlin said between lustful kisses, "what would you have me do to you right now?" He smirked against his neck.

"Why do you say such terrible things?" Will managed to moan out.

"Would you wish me to stop?" Merlin stopped all he was doing, and looked the brown eyed boy in the eyes. He was serious, he wanted to make sure Will wanted and enjoyed all they were doing. 

Will shook his head and grabbed Merlin by the tie again and pulled him back towards himself, planting a sloppy, needing kiss on his lips. "Keep going," he finally replied.

Merlin smiled, a small growl escaping his swollen lips. He grabbed the boy by the waist and forced him to turn around, his ass pressing against Merlin's more than apparent bulge. In the act of moving Will, his pants fell completely to the ground, leaving him only in trousers. Merlin nipped Will's ear, and whispered again, "Tell me what you want me to do to you," he moaned. 

"F-fuck," he whimpered out, pushing himself back into Merlin and a sneaky finger that made it's way into his trousers and in between his cheeks.

"What was that?" Merlin growled, kissing the back of Will's neck, letting his devious finger tease the boy's entrance. 

"Fuck me, please Merlin," he moaned out, his arms stressed over the counter, his hair disheveled. "F-fuck."

"As you wish,"  Merlin smiled and in a swift motion, pulled the restraining cloth from Will, leaving his ass bare to the world. 

Merlin pulled a half-empty bottle of oil from his pocket. He opened it and lathered his fingers with the oil before placing his fingers back at Will's entrance, teasing, with slow circles, and vein probing.  He didn’t push his fingers further than the entrance. He simply ran his fingers in slow circles over the entrance causing William to huff in pleasure. Then Merlin pushed one in. William pressed back, slowly, letting his body get used to Merlin’s finger in him. Merlin slowly and methodically began to gyrate his finger, and then forward and back, until he was sure there was enough oil for his other finger to slip in. When it did, William gasped, tossing his head back, it all too tempting for Merlin to lean up and kiss what little shoulder was exposed. So he did, he kissed it, inhaling his flesh, letting his teeth graze the surface, sucking.

 “Merlin,” William groaned. “Merlin…don’t let the skin bruise,” William pleaded through breathy gasps.

Merlin smiled and bit a little harder before leaning up slightly, just enough so as his hand could run down William's waist and to his erection. His cock was pulsing, throbbing, begging for Merlin's hand, and so, he gave it to him. Merlin gripped William's cock firmly, before moving his hand up and down his shaft, methodically, tightening in all of the right places, but slow enough to be torturous. William was practically screaming when Merlin quickened the pace of his finger that were within the boy. 

Minutes, maybe hours went by before either spoke again, “Nhg, Merlin…” William half-begged, but that was all it took for Merlin to  quickly work his pants and trousers off...

Then, darkness.


Day 2 or 3

That was the first dream Merlin remembers having; it was the only dream Merlin remembers having. It was odd his dream was a memory, one he had almost forgotten. He couldn't remember the last time he thought about that boy, William. The two had grown close over the span of a few years, so much so Merlin was found of him. That boy held larger secrets than the dream portrayed, but Merlin could not quite remember them now. Odd that he would dream of him now, thought. Perhaps his subconscious was guilty for what he did to the boy, Merlin was to blame for his death. Perhaps his mind was trying to remind him that he was not so pure, not really, because he was going to die. And maybe he only remembered that dream because it was the dream that marked the day of the torture, something of which  he would be succumbed to over a long time. Merlin thought a lot about the end the start of that new day. He wished he could go to the grave of William, just one more time...

However, all he could really think of was of the end of the torture, the fire, the chains squeezing and cutting into his wrists while he hung from the ceiling in a room with no darkness and covered in blood, his blood. He thought of the end of the hunger that was in him, the monster that was trying to crawl its way out of his gut, but the monster could never quite get all the way out before pain came in to send it whimpering back into the depths it lived in. The pain was never the same, it was tenfold each day, and the torture was different each time. Maybe it was hell. Maybe Merlin had finally died and this was where he was sent: Hell

Merlin remembers everything that happened to him, but as the days went on, he began forgetting small parts of himself. How old he was, where he was born, his old friends if he had any. Was he human? Did he have a lover? There was always a name in the dreams, but the face became distorted after every dream and the name became a faint, incoherent whisper. It began with an A, maybe? Austin? Alexander? Aaiden? He couldn’t remember, why could he not remember!?

What was his name?

Merlin felt a tear stream down his face, bloodied and cold. He watched it trace a path in his too pale of a cheek and fall off onto the once white floor under him. His head hung low and his shoulders slumped as best as they could while he was hung by chains. He no longer tried to grip the chains to help the pain in his wrists, he no longer had the energy or will to keep his head up or keep his eyes open.

His will for life was gone, and with each drop of blood that fell to the floor, his life would too be gone. It was only a matter of time. He began to welcome it.

Day 19

“Wake up, filth,” said the familiar gruff voice of a man behind a mask.

Merlin yelled as he felt the painful ripping of flesh on his chest. He opened his eyes to see the man with no name holding a whip that was barbed at the end. He slung his arm back and again slashed it against Merlin’s face sending his blood flying across the room, staining the walls and floor.

Merlin breathed heavy, his chest rising and falling quickly and painfully. The man stepped forward and got close to Merlin’s face, gripping him by the jaw and forcing Merlin to look him in the eyes, “You creatures disgust me,” the man said.

Merlin spit into his face, his bloodied saliva reaching his eyes which were not covered by the mask. The man stepped back and whipped his face with his latex glove and laughed, “He has some fight left in him,” he chuckled.

He looked back at Merlin and rose his hand and struck Merlin in the face once more before walking over to a long table with various weapons and tools great for torture. The man waved his fingers over the table as if he were a wizard conjuring a spirit until landing on what he wanted. It was a needle and syringe, a clear liquid within. Merlin couldn’t read the label, though if he were honest he didn’t want to. “We have here, Batrachotoxin and VX mixture,” them and began waving the needle around. “Batrachotoxin was once used in poison darts and is very deadly to humans. VX is the same, it was even a war agent,” the man laughed and pressed the large needle into Merlin’s neck. “You might convulse, foam at the mouth, become paralyzed, hallucinate, and die,” and the man pushed the liquid into Merlin’s veins. "Well, you'll probably not die, but I guess we'll just have to wait and find out." He  clapped his hands together, another laugh filling the space in the room.

It burned, excruciatingly painful. Merlin thought it was his blood fighting the acids but he wasn’t sure and couldn’t when his body started convulsing in terrible waves. The sound of his blood pumping through his body was like loud Native American war drums while the chains holding him up were supersonic in his ears. He could do nothing but convulse and scream. All he wished was for it to go away or for at least his body to become unconscious but he would not get that luxury. They would not allow it.

Day 40

Names. He no longer could remember the names that meant the most to him. He couldn’t even remember his own name.

Names were the last thing he held on to but they too left and disappeared, like all the happiness and worth he felt. They left like all of the people he hoped were once in his life if he ever had a life beyond this room stained with red. He did not know, but maybe there was nothing left to know. The man just left, the man in the mask. That was the only man he could trust, the only one who had not yet left him like the names and the other people. This man was here to stay. The man and the pain but the pain became every day and his everyday became pain…

 What is my name?



Chapter Text

Day 1095

“Is he ready, sir?” said a voice from the dark.

There was a long pause or he passed out. “Yes, he is,” said a familiar voice that caused Merlin to flinch in his chains. That voice meant pain and he was so tired of the pain.

“Shall I begin?”

“Yes, but sedate and relocate,” said that voice again. “He’s too dangerous to move conscious.”

The other man made an audible sound that was almost a smirk, “Him? Dangerous? He looks nothing more than a corpse.”

“Don’t underestimate his kind, Luka,” the man said followed by the sound of a door being opened and then shut.

Merlin was sure there was still someone in the room, he could smell him, the delicious aroma people tended to carry along with them, but he had no clue why. He could feel the movement of air in the room as the man approached him, the outline of his body blocking in any light that penetrated the blindfold he had on. “Dangerous, yeah right,” the man said, his hand running over various weapons and torture devices Merlin had become accustomed to.

Then something changed.

The man reached up and unlocked the metal braces around his wrists, the smallest movement being more painful than the last. “Such measures to keep you bound,” the man said after the first was taken off, the metal spikes from within Merlin’s wrists sliding out slowly. He moved to the next and Merlin fell forward, landing on his face hard , the thud of his body hitting the floor echoing in his ears. He groaned and laid still, his body too weak and sore to move.

Why were they letting him go? Where they done? Was his hell over? Maybe he would now be able to go back and restart life and fix the things that caused him to get here. Or maybe he was just being moved to recover only for the torture to start again. Merlin winced at the thought. Either way his choices were small and unfavorable. “Pathetic,” the man said and kicked Merlin in his already broken ribs.

Merlin felt the release of the chains around his ankles, the sound of the metal hitting itself ringing painfully loud in his ears. The unnamed man kicked him again but this time in the face. Merlin groaned, before coughing up a mouth full of blood unto the floor, and the mans shoes. "Prick, these are new!" the man growled, raising his foot to strike Merlin in the face again.

Then, something happened. Merlin's heart began to race, adrenaline blocking anything he felt. Hope? Was this what hope felt like?

Merlin grabbed the man's foot before it could reach him, stopping it in it's place. Maybe it was the feeling of being unchained or the anger he felt towards the man that was kicking him while he was down. Maybe it had to do with him being tortured everyday, all day for the last three years, Merlin wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he remembered who he was and what he was so in that moment, he knew what had to be done. He pushed the man's foot up, causing him to stumble backwards.

Despite the pain his body felt and the weakness he knew was there, he pushed off the ground with such force he heard the crack of the stone under his palms. He was on his feet in seconds as he faced the man. He ripped off the blindfold and ignored the loud painful drumming in his head as the bright lights hit his face. He focused on the wide-eyed, terrified man in front of him. His white lab coat was slightly covered in the blood that painted every inch of the white room; Merlin knew it was his. He shook his head and grew angry at all of his blood that was shed on the walls. He thought about the three years he won’t ever be able to get back and the memories he had forgotten about; his life and past and those within it.

The man took a step back, looking into Merlin’s eyes, he knew he had made a mistake. Fear flooded the man’s green eyes as he took another pointless step backwards, into the silver table which held only a portion of what was used on Merlin. Merlin didn’t speak or show any emotion he thought, he just struck like a snake. In the blink of an eye, Merlin had the man’s neck pushed to one side, his long fangs deep within his throat. Merlin kept his squirming body still with one hand while the other had him by the hair and kept his head pulled back in a furious grip.

Merlin drank the man dry, his emotions and feelings and memories flooding into him. The familiar strength he once felt trickled back into his body, like a faucet leak, the bones and muscles morphing and changing. The pain that once riddled his body was gone as he released the man’s dead body to the floor. Merlin looked into the one-sided window at the body that did not look as if it were his own. It was as the dead man said, nothing more than a corpse, all color gone; the obvious starvation apparent by the bones that could be seen as he breathed. His raven hare was knotted and long and matted with his dried blood. His face had grown a beard, long and thick, grooming clearly something that had not been cared for. Wounds were still open and bleeding, though some had dried up, leaving him looking like a zombie or a heroin addict. 

He looked down at the man’s body and began to undress him to cloth his own body. He needed to leave and the only way would be this way. Once he dressed himself, he took a shoe lace from the man’s shoe to tie up his long hair and used the cloth from his undershirt to wipe off the blood that stained his face and hands. Once he finished he looked back into the one sided mirror and smirked when he saw his reflection. He looked like he did back in the 1700s, when he came to America to visit and old friend and to keep the Hunters off his trail. He took in a deep breath. He remembered something. Not much, but something.


He grabbed the badge on the white coat and scanned it against the door. A loud buzz followed by a click which signaled the door was unlocked and open. He stepped through and looked down the corridor. It was bright and still white though the floor was stone. It was lined with more doors and one-sided mirrors as the one Merlin had. He sighed. They had an entire corridor of torture cells.

Merlin began walking, pushing the thought from his mind as he followed the memories from the dead man so he could find his escape. He needed to get upstairs where the chemical lab was. There would be an emergency escape door at the end of the hall passed the animal studies lab. Only two people in the lab at all times. So Merlin began his escape.

It didn’t take long to find the stairs and walking up them went by quickly but when he reached the floor he was met with two guards. Neither looked suspicious but they gave him a side glance. “Why’d you take the stairs,” one man asked looking at his badge, “Mr. Luka?”

Merlin froze but straightened his shoulders and thought of something human to say. “Stairs keep you fit and elevators are crowded,” he said crossing his arms not looking directly at the men.

“Smart doctor,” one of the guards said with a laugh.

“Indeed, well I should be going, I’m needed in the chemical studies lab,” he said and pushed back the men.

They said nothing more as they made their way down the stairs Merlin had just come up from. He was close to where he needed to be as he turned a corner, the smell of chemicals bombarding his nose. A few women in lab coats nodded and passed him as he made his way through bright orange doors that read “Warning” “Caution” and “Toxic”.

Merlin remembered the acids that was used on him the first year he was here, but then his body became immune to its destructive nature. He became dizzy and fell into the wall next to him as he remembered the pain and screaming and fire and how he thought his body was burning from the inside out. He coughed into his hand. Tiny red roses fell between his long fingers, “That’s not good,” he said in a whisper, but he had no time to think about that as alarms began to sound above his head in obnoxious and painful screams of warning and alert, “There’s been a breach,” they screamed and flashed.

Four men with guns rounded the corner and Merlin met their eyes. “There he is,” they said and charged, raising their guns at him. “Don’t kill him,” one man shouted causing a wince from him.

Merlin shook his head and pushed off the wall. They were not going to get him. Not again. He was determined to never get back into the hell again. So Merlin approached them, his fists clenched at his side. They raised their guns, but he was too quick for them and before they could place a finger on the trigger of their weapons, Merlin had already gripped one by the throat and sank his fangs deep within his flesh, draining him of his luscious life force before the other men knew what was happening. Merlin grabbed the other by the helmet and smashed it into the stone, breaking the stone from the force. Blood stained the air with its unmistakable fruitful fragrance. Everything was a blur from there; it all happened so quick, but he remembers drinking the last two men dry before running down the hall and out of the exit door, passing the glass room with chemists and scientists, their scared eyes watching and cowering at the scene happening around them. Merlin assumed that he had a blood high or that his lust and natural vampiric instinct took over in a flight-or-fight mode, but either way he successfully got out.

He was free. He was actually free. 

But there was another problem that he had to face. He didn't know who he was. Or where he was. Did someone know he was here? Would he remember who to call? A number? "Fuck!" He yelled, swinging his fist into a tree. 

And for a time, all he did was wonder through thick forests, no human life though the animal life flourished. He had no idea where he was or what country or what the year was. He had lost count after the first year of being tortured. Maybe three years? It could have been a million years and he would still not know. He did know one thing: he needed to rid himself of the blood soaked clothes he wore. They could be too suspicious by local police when he finds a city or town and he was sure that any surrounding law enforcement would be controlled with those who held him captive.

He looked up through the trees, soft rays of light shooting him in the face like bullets from a gun. He remembered being shot once, the painful heat the bullet caused his flesh as it tore open a hole in his body. He groaned and looked back ahead when he heard the familiar sound of automobiles on a road. It was twenty or so miles away but he still heard it and so he ran. He didn’t think about the limbs that cut his face or the wolves that followed behind him because of the scent of blood. He just ran until he came upon a road that was familiar to him. He was in Camelot! It made since, he thought. It was the headquarters for the Blood Hunters, meaning Merlin must have been at a base or testing facility which made since. That's who held him, the bloody fucking Blood Hunters. He growled.

Then, Merlin remembered something else, a home he had here once. So he decided that was where he should go, and he did.

So, he again ran through the forest for a long time, he didn’t keep up with how long he had followed the edge until he found the sign that read “Camelot Estates” and from there, he reached the outer walls of his home. But something was wrong; the black gates were rusting and when he jumped the wall, the grass on his lawn was uncut and more weeds than anything. The home was unlit and a few windows were broken; it looked like an old home from a horror movie, with the broken windows and vines growing up the stone. Why was no one taking care of his home?

When he walked in he was astounded. Everything was covered with sheets and dust, the beautiful black marble stairs that wound up to the second floor from the entrance was cracked and the railing falling apart. There were no paintings or photos on the walls anymore and when he walked into his library it was empty but for a few book stops shaped as dragons. How long had he been gone for?

He eventually went upstairs and down the hall that lead to his room. Unlike most of his home, his bed was there and uncovered, the king sized bed which was canopied with a sheer black shade and black sheets. He followed his marble floors into the large bathroom and tested to see if that water was on. It was, to his surprise. He also looked for towels and to see if he had any clothing. His closet was empty but his shelves held a few suites, one with a tight silk purple tie and black button up with suspenders. He remembered being a teacher then. How could he have forgotten something that he had done for so long?

With a sigh he brushed off the dust and took the clothes to his bathroom and ran the shower, in hopes the hot water worked. It did, the stem seeping from it being very inviting to him. His eyes were heavy as he took off the stolen white laboratory coat and the dead mans’ jeans and shirt. That’s when he finally looked at himself in the mirror, without the worry of someone coming in to tie him back down and torture him. His body was not his own. It was riddled with scars and still too thin, though the color was back. His beard was wild and his hair was shaggy and past his shoulders. He let his fingers brush across his prominent collar bone and to his ribs that had him looking like a malnourished teen age boy. He was no longer the muscular man filled with color and light, he thought to himself as his fingers traced all of the ribs.

He remembers someone touching him like this once, their fingers running over his abs at the time and to his belly button and up to his pectoral muscles and clavicle. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the name or the face, but he only remembered the feel of the fingers. He let out a frustrated sigh as the mirror became fogged up, signaling he should get in. So he did.

Immediately the blood on his arms was beginning to rinse off down the drain. He began to scrub with his fingers at the dried blood that almost refused to come off his skin, but he won the battle. He moved to the rest of his body and after an hour he was finally no longer stained by his own blood. His hair was now the raven black it once was and he no longer smelled old and rusted.

He got out and wrapped the towel around his waist and walked to the mirror. His hair was a mess and as clean as ones’ hair can be with no shampoo but it didn’t look bad. His beard was still wild but he enjoyed having it and after some playing, he got it to where it looked as if he groomed his beard nicely. He opened a cabinet and found a comb when he was doing it so that also helped tremendously. Along with the comb he found, he also found a hair tie, which he had questions as to how it got there but he was thankful it was. He combed through his long hair, running into hundreds of knots that seemed determined to not be broken free. After what seemed like twenty minutes of coming through his hair, it had mostly dried, so he put it up, wrapping it into a nice half-bun: half his hair in a bun, the other staying down. He looked into the mirror and couldn’t help but laugh. He looked good, despite looking like he was just rescued from a Nazi concentration camp, but he also looked like a few students he’s taught before, hippies and hipsters wearing flannel. Merlin didn’t mind, he liked the style but he was old and thought it would be inappropriate, especially since he was a professor.

He put his suite on quickly after gawking at himself in the mirror and then he left the place he once called home. He looked to see if there were any cars in the garage but there wasn’t, which was to be expected since they were all very expensive.

So he would just have to walk.

Merlin needed to find a phone and food; he was so hungry and even though he drained three men only hours ago, he was still hungry and weak. At the time, he hadn’t realized it was probably the lust for blood that was talking but he hadn’t eaten in so long. That’s how he justified himself.

After an hour or so walking he reached the city part of Camelot around noon by the position of the sun in the sky. It was busy as usual, college students roaming the busy sidewalks and business men and women going to lunch. He took in a deep breath, taking in all of the scents and fresh blood and he couldn’t help but lick his lips as he fell into the crowd of moving people. His eyes kept roaming to the veins in every passers neck and oh it was tempting but he knew better than to hunt and kill in public. So he continued to walk towards where he was going.

The buildings loomed over him and created a shadow which was helpful but the old architecture and feel of Camelot reminded Merlin of long ago when Monarchies still ruled all of the lands, Kings and Queens- he missed those time if he were going to be honest- and battles and taverns… Merlin was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize the man in front of him and they smacked into each other. “Watch it,” the blonde man said with a look of disgust on his face.

“Sorry sir,” Merlin said with a forgiving smile.

The man rolled his eyes and was on his way forward. Merlin sighed and took in a deep breath as he pick-pocketed the blonde’s wallet and placed it in his own. Rude man. He smirked at himself and continued forward when he was stopped by a crosswalk and groaned looking at the red man on the screen. He had no choice but to stand and wait and look ahead at the other crowd.

He looked across the faces and stopped on none but one, a young boy, a college student maybe, his vivid blue eyes wide and as if they were in shock or terror, Merlin couldn’t be sure, but he would get the chance as the crowed moved towards one another’s when they could go. They passed each other, not directly as there was a few people between them but their eyes made contact only for a moment before Merlin looked ahead. Then he was stopped. He stopped himself but something was… different about that boy, or maybe familiar? He wasn’t sure so when he looked back he expected to find the answer. The blonde was still moving forward and looked back too but the crowed kept him moving forward. Merlin then shook his head and continued on his path too. The boy in fact was different but not familiar, just another vampire.

“Hello?” asked the voice from the phone in red telephone box.

Before Merlin could begin to speak, he was hit with a bolder of pain in his chest, he could already feel the blood begin to pool from his nose and over the canons on his lips. He slammed the phone back to its place and swiftly walked from the red box, wiping his nose with his palm, eyeing the blood that pooled in his palm. What was going on?

He rushed through the crowd back the way he came all the while his nose let red rivers fall to the creases in his hand and soon the grooves on his black suite sleeve. He heard it then, a whisper, it was soft and hardly audible in his ears, but then again, it wasn’t actually in his ears but his head. It was a cry of sorts, that held his name with an overwhelming sadness; the way it was spoken was so familiar, but it wasn’t.

It was strange how he could remember a voice but not a name or even a face. He shook his head and continued down his path, gripping his nose to keep the blood from continuing further. He didn’t make it far before he fell against the side of a building, his world spinning out of control. He was weak again, this time falling to his knees as he began vomiting up blood. The droplets stained the stone under him as a pain began to creep in the depths of his head and bones.

He felt hands on his shoulders but that was all until he his world turned into a black hole of nothingness once more. He wasn’t out long but when he awoke next and opened his eyes, there was an EMT over him, shinning a light into his eyes. Merlin shot up, pushing past the weak feeling in his body as a hand tried to push back on the ground. “Sir, please stay calm,” she said.

Merlin pushed her hand away with his body as he stood from the blood-stained stone around him and he ran. He needed to find a place to get away from the blood hunters but he also needed to find someone to tell him what was going on and why this was happening to him. He knew of one person, a very old friend, one he knew would be able help. They had been friends for years, hundreds even. He wasn’t Camelot, but Merlin could take a bus to him. The only person he knew that could help him would be his one chance and only hope.



Chapter Text

Merlin was successful at avoiding any Blood Hunters or anyone who might know him until sundown. He had mostly spent his time walking through the historic areas of the city like the Palace-Turned-Museum and the old Camelot Castle. It was all very beautiful and extravagant, making Merlin miss the times when masked balls and courtships and kings and queens were still all about.

Merlin thought about all of the Masquerade Balls he had attended and the string of lovers he held for just a night, but thinking about made his heart ache; he didn’t know why but he grew sad and very lonely. Merlin didn’t remember much, his memory still coming back in small waves of painful visions from the past. He remembers all of his past, but up to the last fifty years, Merlin couldn’t recall much. So it was mind boggling as to the alone feeling he felt in the tomb of his chest as he walked to a nearby bus stop, his hands deep within his suit pant pockets.

“Where to?” asked the old driver.

Merlin had to think for a moment. The person he was going to see lived outside of Camelot, but did this bus go there? Merlin looked down the aisles and saw but only a few people, so Merlin assumed it did. He could always just pay off the bus man since he stole a wallet from a fairly wealthy fellow early in the day. “Ealdor?” Merlin finally said.

“Ealdor?” the man said almost exasperated.

“Yes, do you take a route that way?”

“No, I do, but not many go out that way anymore,” he said with smile. “It’s pretty far, so you’ll be the last stop.”

Merlin nodded and paid the man the bus fee before making his seat in the middle of the bus. There was a couple snogging in the back of the bus, Merlin made note of before he sat. There was another boy, a hood over his head, music blaring while his face was pressed against the window. He saw the reflection, blonde hair, smooth, pale face. Across from that boy was a woman in a dress who held a tired face. She probably was heading home from work, Merlin deduced.

With a heavy sigh, Merlin sat in the bus seat and the bus started moving. The first twenty or so minutes of the ride was uneventful, and mostly quiet but Merlin fixed that with listening in on the music the boy behind him was blaring in what was probably deafening. Merlin became fixated on the boy as the bus ride went along, however. He realized he was the boy from the street that day, though he was wearing something completely different and tear streaks stained his face, but he was a vampire. Young, maybe twenty, and a new vampire too. Not just turned, but a few years old. The couple snogging in the back of the bus also caught Merlin’s attention again, but mostly because they were being obnoxious and annoyingly loud.

The first of the people to leave the bus was the woman who looked to have just gotten off of work. Minutes later the bus stopped at another stop and the couple left, leaving only Merlin and the boy a few seats behind him. This time the ride was much longer and soon Camelot turned from old streets to forests and farms.

It became eerily silent when the boy turned his music off. Merlin couldn’t stop himself from looking behind at him and saw that he was wrapping his headphones around the phone before placing it in his hoodie pocket. He must have noticed Merlin looking because he looked up from what he was doing.

The blonde froze and so did Merlin. There was an eerie familiarity about him, the same feeling he felt when he saw him on the street. Merlin could only assume it was because they both were vampires. It was boggling for him, though. He had never felt like this around another vampire. He could since other vampire, but not to this degree.

Merlin was going to approach him, but suddenly the bus slammed into stop, tossing Merlin face first into the seat with an oomf. Merlin recovered quickly and looked forward. The driver was standing, a gun apparent in his hands. Blood Hunter. Merlin quickly stood from his seat and looked at the man who had taken a step forward. “Merlin Emrys,” the man said. “We’ve been looking for you,” he said with a smirk. “When you said Ealdor, I knew. You slipped up.”

“Merlin?” the boy behind him said. Merlin turned to face him as he realized the voice was the same from the one in heard earlier. “Merlin!” he then shouted, reaching towards him.

Merlin heard the gun before he felt it, the loud ringing in his ears, the way it shook his bones. Soon followed pain, but not a harsh pain, not like before. Merlin growled and turned to face the man and began to walk towards him. “I am tired of being shot,” Merlin said, digging his fingers into the wound, pulling the bullet from his chest.

The man fired another shot.

“I am tired of being bled like swine.”

The man fired again.

“I am tired of being tormented and tortured.” Merlin was only a few steps away from him now.

The man fired three more bullets rapidly into Merlin's abdomen.

“And I am especially tired of you humans.” The mans gun was empty and Merlin new it.

Faster than a blink Merlin lunged forward, gripping the man by the hair and the back of the neck and he sunk his teeth into his throat. He heard a crack, probably from the force of his grip or maybe his swiftness, but either way the mans neck was broken and he was drained dry in seconds.

Merlin growled – it was animalistic and demonic- as he dropped the dead body at his feet. Merlin was blinded by red and the blood in his ears that he only heard the muffled sound of his name being called as he exited the bus. Merlin was surrounded by what looked to be endless forests. So, picking a direction, he began to walk.

An arm grabbed him.

He turned quickly and pushed the body into a tree. Merlin pushed hard against the body his hand around his throat. “Who are you?” he yelled.

The boy’s blonde hair was a little wet and his cheeks were flushed as he was pinned harshly into a tree. “Merlin, it’s me,” the boy said his eyes searching the ones who held him down.

Merlin squeezed his hand around the boys throat tighter. “That is not a name,” he said. “Who. Are. You?”

The boy struggled for a breath. Merlin pitied the helpless creature and released the pressure he held, but kept his hand around his throat. “Ar…” he paused and closed his eyes, “Arthur. My name is Arthur,” he replied to him.

“Arthur?” Merlin let roll on his tongue and shivered at the feeling it left in his mouth. Merlin growled frustratingly and pushed the boy into the tree as he released him and turned away. “How do you know who I am?” Merlin asked.

“You don’t remember me?” he sounded defeated and tired.

“I don’t know you. I cannot be expected to remember someone I’ve not met before.” Merlin snarled a little at the boy with his inane questions he seemed to be insistent on pestering Merlin with. He could just kill him.

He let out a large and very loud breath. Merlin turned to face him just as he was running a hand through his hair. He looked defeated. Merlin smiled at that. “I must be mistaken, then.” He said softly.

He resembled an abandoned dog, left starving in the streets. It was pathetic.

“You must be mis…” It hit him again, the overwhelming pain, starting this time everywhere in his body and all at once. It blindsided him. He was in a way, forced to topple over unto his knees and hands in agonizing pain. The coughing up of blood was close behind while he used a hand to squeeze at the pain in his chest, knowing it was a fruitless attempt to stop something that was inevitably not going to stop.

“Merlin!” That damn child yelled his name again and Merlin felt his hands on him.

Merlin attempted to push him away, “Get the fuck off me,” he said but he was too weak to do much of anything else but yell at him.

Merlin fell into a conscious but unconscious state. He could still feel the pain as it grew and he was yelling, screaming, but he wasn’t. He could here muffled voices around him and see figures that didn’t resemble human or vampire. Blinding light shrouded them in a cloak of white fire. The darkness around him turned into white fire, but then faded in and out mimicking stars and the moon.

And then it stopped.


What felt like an eternity turned into nothing but a few seconds as everything stopped, becoming only a numb pain. There was a serenity to the feeling he felt. It was like flying while his feet were still firmly planted on the ground. The darkness that cloaked him was blindingly bright and the silence was deafening. He drifted in that state forever. He felt time slip through his fingers and turn into ash at his feet.

There was a flicker of light in front of him, then an explosion of light and color. It turned into pictures or a movie that he knew, that he remembered. Home.

“Merlin, come inside the cave,” said his mother in her deer skin cloth.

“Coming mother,” he said back to her, the young boy with shaggy hair and a dirty face. Blood stained his mouth and with a heavy sigh, his mother whipped it off as he passed her by and made his way into the cave.

Merlin remembered that day now. It was long before the European settlements were a thing and even English. It was before the Greeks and the Romans. Most peoples lived in caves at that time, though the plains people lived in grass huts or the trees. A language wasn’t really established then, not officially. Every family or tribe spoke something different and some didn’t even speak. Merlin’s mum was like him, he remembered. She did things differently, though and she couldn’t do the things Merlin could, but she protected him, and kept him safe.

The cave changed and morphed, the grey stone of the cave walls turning into the grey stone of Roman Cathedral walls.

“Emrys, where are you off to?” asked the altar boy.

Merlin gave a smile and stepped into a room, just offside the main seating area.

“Merlin!” He said almost irritated. Merlin reached out and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him into the small confessional space. “Merlin, if we get caught, it’d be the end of both of us.”

“Then I guess we’d be quiet,” he said and kissed him on the lips.

Merlin smiled and bit the boy on the lip, drawing blood.

“Ow!” he said.

Merlin smiled and then he proceeded to have sex with the queer Altar boy in a confessional. The irony in the scene was fantastic and the sex was not too shabby. Merlin then, after laying with him, his name slipping Merlin’s mind even then, killed him and left him naked and dead in a cathedral in Rome. It was poetic, he thought. Poetic.

The scene changed again, from Rome to America, pre- European settlers.

A tribe of Sioux Indians in what now is Iowa were just coming back from a hunt. Merlin helped carry a deer on his shoulders while a small group of the others helped pull a bear along. That night they feasted and Merlin and the Chief talked about the spirits and the land around them. Merlin had learned long before coming to the new land that respecting ones’ beliefs is the only way to keep a peace and Merlin enjoyed the spirits and their beliefs. It was beautiful and they excepted Merlin for both being Vampire and a man whose interest is only in men.

“We live off the land, both of us. We are one in the same. We cannot deny the spirits and the gifts you’ve been given, pale-walker,” the chief said to Merlin that same night of the feast as he and his lover sat next to one another as they passed around a pipe.

Again the scene changed from pre-colonial America to late 19th century Scotland.

“Alister, keep your shoulders squared to mine,” Merlin said crossing his feet as the two circled each other.

“I’m trying, but you’re too quick,” the boy said, his red hair bouncing off his shoulders.

He was no more than ten years old but he and Merlin became close when Merlin needed a job as a stable hand for a while to get away from the blood hunters. The family he was with were vampire too, so it worked out nicely. “Don’t let that stop you. Find an opening and strike,” Merlin said.

Alister was a human boy, his mother died from sickness, but the vampire couple took him in since they couldn’t have a child of their own. It was a first for Merlin, to witness this…

The scene changed, but too quickly for Merlin who looked into the memories of the past. They flashed and changed and he was whipped through them and he was unable to make out any of the images as they flew past. It made his head hurt and his eyes burn.

Then, in a flash of exploding light, the world around him was once again empty and dark, leaving a numb pain but with a small presence of a euphoric feeling that overcame him. This must be what death is, Merlin thought to himself, or maybe spoke aloud, he wasn’t sure.

All too quickly did the darkness go away again, leaving Merlin sitting on a park bench in a place that was not familiar. Magics’ floated visibly around him and there were predators that lay next to prey while being shaded by trees that played with butterflies, of which glowed bright colors of green and blue and even colors that had yet to be seen or named. It was beautiful and Merlin smiled at the sight of it all.

“Beautiful is it not?” said a voice in his head.

Merlin shot his head around but saw no one.

“My name is Kilgharrah,” the voice said again.

Merlin stood. “Show yourself, unless you’re too cowardly to face me,” Merlin said defensive.

The voice laughed in his head, “So be it,” it said and Merlin was greeted with large gold wings shrouding him in shadow as the beasts’ body landed in front of him on grass that changed at the beasts’ touch.

“A dragon,” Merlin said shocked.

“Yes, a Dragon,” it said with a laugh again.

Merlin nodded. Strange, there to be a dragon in front of him in this place, but Merlin shrugged his shoulders at the thought and sat back down in the bench.

“Merlin, you have forgotten what you are and who’ve you become.” Kilgharrah stated. “You feared the pain of losing those around you and that was killing you.”

That was sudden and shocking for Merlin. He grew angry. “No.” Merlin said through clenched teeth.

“It is,” the dragon said standing with a growl. “You’re a coward and selfish,” the dragon hissed. “You let go of your memories and life to make it easier for you to die in that room.”

“Stop talking!” Merlin was now shouting causing an eerie silence to fall over the land and between him and the dragon.

 “And you got your wish, Merlin Emrys, you died in that room and everything that was you died in there too!”

Merlin shouted again “No!”, but for some reason he felt warm tears tumble down his cheeks. “Have you ever been held captive for three years? The constant torture becoming all you know? I did what I did to survive.”

The dragon shook his head and opened up his winds. “You’ve lived long enough to know that was not the case, Merlin.”

“I still escaped. What more do you want from me? I got out, alive!” Merlin said in a raised voice, but he wasn’t shouting any more.

“No, Emrys, you did not escape,” the dragon said. “You may have gotten out but you did not escape. You kept yourself in that room, your history, you love, your knowledge, who you are and who you were and who you grew to be; you left it all in there.”

“No.” he tried again.

The dragon opened his mouth and blew out fire, letting it cover the ground at Merlin’s feet. The fire became images, distorted at first, the flame still yellow and orange. “These are the people that have been there for you,” the dragon said as faces were formed into the fire.

The first was a shaggy brown headed man, a crooked smile on his face while he looked at the other man across from him. The man looked more serious but he too was smiling and laughing while they chased each other around the small, dimly lit room. The flames the changed, showing an older, more wrinkled man, his face sad while he looked through books on the desk in front of him. Merlin knew them, all three. “Gawaine,” Merlin said. “Percy and Gaius,” a tear rolled down his cheek.

The scene changed again showing another man, or boy, it was hard to tell with his eyes. They looked so much older than his features. Blue. His eyes were a vivid blue in the flames, the swirling blue fire dripping down his cheeks as he cradled a pillow in front of him. Merlin turned away.

Merlin fell to his knees as he cried, but he didn’t fall because of the tears, e fell because of the pain he felt in his entire body again. He could feel the blood spilling from his eyes and nose again. “Make it stop,” he begged to the dragon, forgetting the fire that still burned bright and hot. The fire now encompassed him, the flames kissing his skin.

“Stop acting like a child and wake up Merlin,” the dragon said.

“Let me be, dragon. I just want to be alone.” Merlin again begged.

“I didn’t do this to you, you did this to you,” the dragon said but the words became muffled and Merlin could no longer understand as the flames around him licked his skin while blood pooled from his nose, eyes, and ears.

The world around him didn’t go dark, it stayed flamed-filled and bright, the crackling around him causing him to flinch each time, for fear his flesh would bare the consequences of the lashing tendrils. His must have closed his eyes somewhere in between the blood and fire because he opened them long after, but to a world that was no longer encased in flame but a room fed by light seeping through an opened window.


Chapter Text

The room was bright, too bright, the light seeping in through an opened curtain across the unfamiliar room. His head felt unbelievably awful, but nothing could compare to the pain he felt when being tortured. Tortured. Merlin flinched at the memories, the pain still rising to his skin as if it were actually still occurring.

Merlin sat still and silent for a moment, taking in his surroundings.

He thought about how much his life had changed over the centuries until now. In the last three years Merlin had been a teacher at a University in Camelot which happened to be the headquarters of the Blood Hunters, a group who had been hunting him for generations. He fell in love with a boy who became a vampire and whose father was the leader of the Blood Hunters. All of that was just within a few months, maybe a year. Merlin remembers being at a castle in Germany, training the boy before they were found by the Blood Hunters. Then the capture and the torture.

Merlin thought it strange to wake up and remember everything after having forgotten so much for so long. His memory wasn’t completely back, however. Names and faces still alluded him, but not at the same time; a name would have no face and a face would have no name.  Merlin rubbed his temples. His head really hurt.

He swung his legs over the bedside, noticing the silky red sheets he was laying on. When he placed his bare feet on the cold hard ground, he couldn’t help but run his hands over the feel of the sheets in his palms and on his fingers. Too long had it been since he was graced with such beauty and comfort.

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. The room didn’t smell like blood. It was cold stone and flowers, probably coming in through the window. He smiled at that, the fact the room smelled of flowers and not of blood.

Crash. Merlin turned his head just as white glass shattered against the barren floor at the feet of the hands who dropped it. Red liquid covered the surrounding area and Merlin knew it was blood but he was too focused on the person who’d dropped it all in the first place. “Arthur,” Merlin let his name roll over his tongue slow and methodical, the feel of it very new but very old at the same time. It sent chills throughout his body.

Arthur didn’t speak. He was frozen in place, his eyes wide, his chest rising and falling quickly, his chest and cheeks turning red. “Merlin,” he said with a crack in his voice, the noticeable threat of tears burning at his eyes. He approached Merlin, stepping over the broken glass, ignoring the few bits that sliced into the bottoms of his feet.

Merlin was still too weak to stand and so he made no move and had no intention to do so, but Arthur didn’t seem to mind. When he reached Merlin, he didn’t stop, he stepped between his legs and hugged Merlin tightly, very tightly. Merlin huffed, the force startling him and hurting him, but he ignored what he could and hugged Arthur back. Arthur kept repeating Merlin’s name in his head. Merlin knew it was wrong to snoop around in there, but it just happened and when it did, Merlin didn’t stop. He wanted to know what he was thinking and how he was feeling. It was an impulse too late to control, Merlin settled with.

Arthur eventually broke away from the hug and just stood at his place, looking down at Merlin. “You’re face,” he said softly.

Merlin clucked his tongue and rubbed his beard with a hand. “I take offence to that,” Merlin said with a half-smile.

Arthur smiled and rubbed a few of the hairs with his middle and index finder. “No, no, it’s nice, just different,” he said.

“Three years of torture can do that,” Merlin said, but regretted the words after they left his tongue.

It caused a silence and tension to form between them. Arthur moved from between Merlin's legs and walked towards the opened curtains and shut them. Merlin sighed and ran a hand through his long hair before attempting to stand. His arms shook as he pressed against the soft red sheets and mattress under him. His legs shook like a quake would the Earth, but he successfully stood, using the night stand as leverage.

Merlin slowly walked towards Arthur, who held a small sliver of the curtain back, letting some rays of light pound him in the face. Merlin smiled at the sight. Arthur, his beautiful creature. He took a moment to take in the site. How could he forget such a magnificent creature? He admired his chizzled jaw, the way his blonde hair caressed the back of his neck, the tightening of shirt with every rise and fall of his chest. He was different now. More grown. His skin was still pale, but there was a golden hue to it. He looked like a god.

Merlin approached from the side and leaned against the red curtain not held by Arthur and just looked upon Arthur's face. He looked worried, and sad, terribly sad, but strong. He had aged very much, his eyes the only real proof of that. But he held himself differently now, Merlin realized. His shoulders were straighter and visibly stronger. He wasn’t slouched and he looked mean, and unbreakable, but also cold. “Arthur?”

Arthur didn’t turn to look at Merlin, but his jaw clenched. Is he going to punch me? Merlin asked himself. Arthur let the curtain fall closed and faced Merlin. “You look angry,” Merlin stated matter-of-factly.

“Worried,” Arthur said. “A little scared, but not angry.”

“But not happy,” Merlin retorted.

Arthur sighed and turned away from Merlin again. “A lot has happened these last three years,” Arthur said.

Merlin cocked an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t know,” Merlin said.

Arthur ran a hand through his golden hair again and faced Merlin. “I thought you were dead,” Arthur said.

“And I wished I had been dead,” Merlin said feeling a sense of Déjà vu.

“You don’t understand, Merlin. You were gone and…”

“I had no choice that I was gone! It’s not as if I could have asked to be released and just walk out, Arthur,” Merlin said.

 “Merlin,” Arthur said releasing a breathy sigh. “I looked for you, every day. I searched, hell, I even went to speak to my father and I got back on terms with him and became a Blood Hunter for you, but I couldn’t find you.” He was almost shouting now and Merlin's heart began beating quickly. Merlin was unsure why he would be shouting but he was. Merlin was flinching as Arthur’s voice echoed off the walls. “So we assumed you were dead,” He said. “I thought you were dead,” and Merlin then noticed the tear that fell from one of Arthur’s eyes, but only a single drop, cold and small, dissipating on his cheek.

Merlin thought about how quickly this scene was changing from him waking up to Arthur coming in, them hugging, Arthur rubbing his beard and talking in a soft voice to this, shouting and anger, and fear, and maybe even a bit of hate.

“We held an empty Pyre for you in Scotland, like you said you wanted, in the mountains overlooking a river that split two ranges and valleys on either side of it. A true viking funeral. It was beautiful, but empty, and no one cried. Most of us stood there watching the fire reach for the sky with feeble limbs before dying out.” Arthur shook his head. “I think no one cried because we still held onto hope that you were still alive.”

Merlin walked to Arthur as quickly as he could with weak bones. He reached for Arthur’s hands and held them, “I’m here now, Arthur,” Merlin said trying to break through the blue shields of Arthur's eyes.

Arthur pulled his hands from Merlin’s just as someone walked into the room behind Arthur. “Woah, what happened here?” The person said with a small laugh, having noticed the broken mug and spilled blood.

Merlin recognized that voice and when he saw the curly black hair, Merlin remembered exactly who he was. “Oh, Hey Emrys, you’re awake,” the boy said with a soft smile as he walked up to Arthur, wrapping a possessive arm around his hip.

Merlin took a step back, his eyes wide with complete disbelief. “Mordred?” Merlin knew who he was and he didn’t mean for his name to come out as a question, but it did.

Maybe because Merlin had questions as to when this happened and why? After everything he took from Arthur, they are now sleeping together? They are now lovers? No. It could not be. Merlin grew angry and sad at all once, to the point he could not bare to look at either of them for fear of crying or exploding.

Mordred was speaking but Merlin shut his voice out as his world became surreal and numbing. He had just woken up, he had just remembered after so long of not knowing and this was how he was to be repaid? He shook his head. “We’d best get this cleaned up,” Mordred said causing Merlin to come out of his daze.

“Yeah,” Arthur replied with a smile.

“It’s good that you’re awake, Merlin. I’ll call Gawaine and let him know,” he said as he and Arthur strolled out of the room together.

“I’m sorry, Merlin,” Arthur said into Merlin’s mind. “I’m so-“ Merlin harshly cut him from his mind, and turned to the covered window as the painful cry from Arthur rang in his ears.

Merlin didn’t mean to hurt him, but he wasn’t remorseful that he had.

“What happened?” Merlin heard Mordred say.

“No, no, it’s fine, I stepped on some of the glass,” Arthur said as they continued down the hall.

Merlin made his way back to the bed that smelled of Arthur, he let the sheets engulf him as he cradled a pillow at his chest and he cried, silently, and alone, because Merlin was in fact, alone now; in a room that was not his, in a bed that was not his, in a home with a lover who was not his. Merlin was alone.

Things change when you're gone for three years, Merlin realized, even if the absence was not of your choosing. 

Merlin was dead before he even realized he was alive, but he was never really alive to begin with. 

Again, Merlin wished he were dead, but in a way he supposed he was. All of those around him suspected he was, giving him figurative deaths with no happy ending, with no chance of Merlin to wake up or appearing.

They wished him dead like he wished himself dead.

So, instead of believing, they, meaning he, moved on to another, one who was not dead. One who was not gone. One who was whole and awake, and most definitely not figuratively dead...



Chapter Text


Day 382

Arthur was walking with his hands in his suit pockets, looking up and down the fairly quiet streets. It was annoying that the streets were so barren like. He was hungry and in need of some food.

He smiled when he saw a boy look at him and then turn down an alley just to the side of him.


Arthur crossed the street and found himself in the alley way, the boy leaning against a dumpster while he bit his lip. Arthur approached with a smile. “I hope you’re not a serial killer, because then I would feel very dull for thinking we were going to have sex,” the boy said cheekily.

Arthur giggled, “I would wish the same thing,” he pushed the boy harder into the dumpster while he began pushing his jacket off his shoulders, to reveal his body. His nipples were already pert and hard, probably from the chill of the night air, but Arthur wouldn’t complain. He reached and pinched one between his fingers while he kissed up and down the boy’s neck. “What’s your name?” Arthur asked as he licked his jaw.

“Tommy, you?” he replied with a moan.

“Arthur,” he said before kissing his lips while he rutted against the boy’s spread legs.

Arthur let a hand slip in the boys pants and he immediately began rubbing his erection with one hand while he used the other to rub a pink nipple. Arthur kissed down his chest and stopped long enough to suck on his other nipple. He looked up and noticed one eye was brown and the other green while his hair was brown. It was unimportant, but still something he noticed. As Arthur reached his knees, he pulled his pants down, starting at his muscular hip bones and pulled them past his knees.

His cock popped up as he had no underwear on. Arthur brought a hand down to grab it softly while he licked the tip. He slipped the tip into his mouth, his grinding ever so softly on his foreskin as he did. The boy, Arthur realized, was trying his best to keep from bucking his hips, which Arthur wouldn’t have minded. Arthur gripped the boys ass with both his hands and forced his hips forward, letting his thick cock shoot deep within his mouth.

Tommy released a soft sigh, probably to keep from getting any unwanted attention from the street goers. Arthur felt his hands in his hair, the way his long fingers gripped his golden locks with a fierce grip while he bobbed up and down on his cock, letting his tongue lick all over it as he did. Arthur sped up, taking his cock to the base every time, while he messaged his balls with a hand. It wasn’t long before Tommy came in his throat, the hot liquid shooting down Arthur’s throat with a fiery passion. It was salty, and bland, and most definitely not blood, but that would all come.

Arthur stood and wiped his mouth with his sleeve while he forcibly turned the boy around, his chest banging against the dumpster with a thud. Arthur unzipped his pants, while he slipped a finger in between Tommy’s ass, finding a butt plug already within him. “What have we here?”

“You have to be prepared for random street sex,” he said with a smile.

Arthur kissed the boy’s neck as he pulled the plug from him, some of the lube making its way onto his fingers. “Are you ready?” Arthur asked rutting his cock against the man’s bare ass, causing him to squirm under him.

He was only answered with a nod which was all the consent he needed before plunging his cock deep within the mans lubed entrance. He didn’t begin to move until he was sure Tommy was used to the size change and the heat and just to let him feel how good it was. Then he moved, slowly at first, letting Tommy’s tight arse squeeze against Arthur’s throbbing cock. “God, you’re huge,” Tommy said breathy.

Arthur replied with a kiss to the man’s neck again, letting his tongue run up and down his pulsating vein. Arthur groaned and gripped the sides of the dumpster as he began to thrust faster into the boy under him.  The sound of his flesh hitting him caused Arthur to become more aroused, and before he realized it, he was bending the steel dumpster under his grip, the sound of the metal echoing in his ears. He didn’t care. He continued to pound into this mans hole, spreading it wider, hitting his prostrate with each quickening thrust.

He was moaning louder, causing Arthur to push his fingers into it, keeping his mouth preoccupied with something else. He could feel the buildup in his groin now, the familiar want to release as his pleasure slowly began to increase. It was almost at its peak when Arthur let his fangs sink into the boys tender flesh. His blood pooled into his mouth in warm waves of ecstasy. Tommy moaned heavily under Arthur, his mouth opened and eyes closed, while Arthur proceeded to drain him dry without him knowing. He came in him, seconds later, just as the boy was drained completely dry of blood. Arthur pushed off the dumpster, satisfied, and let the man fall dead to the ground as he zipped up his pants.

That is when Arthur heard the laugh from behind him, close to the street. Arthur turned slowly, patting out the wrinkles in his suit jacket. “Do you mind?” Arthur said, very irritated at the disturbance.

“Quite a sight,” the voice said.

Arthur recognized that voice, it had been a long time, but he knew it. “Mordred,” Arthur said. It was the bastard who turned him. Arthur shrugged.

“My, my, how we have changed,” he said as Arthur walked past him and onto the street.

“What do you want?” Arthur said realizing he was fallowing him as he walked down the Camelot streets.

“I was just passing by when I smelled the blood and then I saw you,” he said with a laugh. “So, I am to assume you and that Emrys are done with?”

Arthur’s jaw clenched, but he shook the emotion away that came with that name. “Mordred, what do you want?”

“I’ve been watching you this last year. You’ve changed and that change has brought about the attention of the Covens.” Mordred said.

“And I care because?”

“If they find this trail of dead corpses to be yours, they will hunt you and you will then be put through trial. You will be found guilty and sentenced to death,” Mordred said. “No one wants that.”

Arthur did. Arthur wished he could die. He knew the wishing for death was pointless and the thoughts of a crazy person, but he felt empty and alone. He was always drained of life and he eventually became less than who he was, an empty shell of flesh, going day by day doing nothing with care, but just doing out of habit. He was always so angry and he enjoyed doing things that let him forget; alcohol, blood, drugs, the combination of them all.

Arthur eventually shrugged his shoulders. “Depends on who ‘no one’ is.”

“Wow, you are one downer today,” Mordred said with a smile as he patted Arthur on the Shoulder. “C’mon, let me show you something,” Mordred said forcibly pulling Arthur along despite Arthur really not wanted to go but he eventually did.

“Where are we going?” Arthur asked as he was tugged along.

“The sea,” Mordred said calling for a cabby.

A cabby pulled over and the two got in. No words were spoken between Mordred or Arthur the entire ride, but the cabby enjoyed talking about his granddaughter and his daughter, how they loved the beach. He was a nice man, but Arthur really wished he would just be quiet. His only release from the noise was when they arrived at the beach, the waves crashing against the rocky banks with anger. The soft glow of bioluminescent creatures littered the surface in a bright blue glow and Arthur gave a soft half-smile at it. But then the blue reminded him too much of the eyes he loved but could no longer have.

They walked silently to the empty shore line, a cold breeze blowing against Arthur’s cold and hollow being. Mordred didn’t speak, letting the all but silent waves filter into their waiting ears, as their eyes watched the water rise and fall in time with the creatures that glowed on its surface. Arthur crossed his arms at his chest and closed his eyes breathing in the salty air.

“It’s beautiful, is it not?” Mordred said breaking the peaceful silence.

“Yes,” Arthur said. “Why are we here?” Arthur questioned more than he was complaining.

“The salt of the sea heals all those with hurts, physical wounds and scares, emotional wounds and scares, all of them. You look liked someone who could really use some healing,” Mordred said.

Arthur sighed and made his way down on the sand, letting his legs stretch out in front of him while his fingers slid into the cold, wet sand. “Why are you being so kind to me?” Arthur was truly curious. He remembered this boy being the one to turn him, he bit him and left him for dead at his car in the middle of the night.

Arthur would be angry, but he wasn’t. He didn’t really care enough to be angry, at anyone. He was angry at someone however, just not him. “We all need a little kindness in our lives, Arthur, even those of us who don’t deserve it,” Mordred spoke honest, at least from what Arthur could sense.

Arthur’s eyes filled with that stinging burning sensation he had forbidden himself from feeling, but this time he didn’t fight it as much. He let a single tear fall down his pale cheek as he viewed the ocean, Mordred’s silhouette in the corner of his eye. That is when he noticed he was holding a hand out to him, so Arthur looked up at him. He halted, not taking his hand or really moving. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but then Arthur remembered he didn’t care, so he took it.

Mordred helped him rise back to his feet and in the glow of the bioluminescent creatures, Mordred stepped forward, placing a hand on Arthur’s cold cheek, his middle and index finger behind his ear and in his hair while his thumb rested just on his cheek. He took a small step forward, leaned, and kissed Arthur. It was soft and unexpected and terribly sudden, but for a reason unknown to Arthur, he didn’t pull away.

Mordred kissed him like he hadn’t been kissed, truly kissed, in a long time, not like this. It was new, it was kind. He felt safe. All the thoughts of what Mordred was really doing there was completely gone and all he could think about, all he cared to think about was their lips intertwined with one anthers. Arthur had gotten so lost in the feeling he hadn’t noticed their hands wandering to new lands on each other’s bodies, Mordred’s shirt already coming off by Arthur’s own hands.

Mordred broke apart from the incessant snogging, but he smiled at the confused Arthur. He reached for Arthur’s pants and when unzipped and unbuttoned, pulled them down and off, following his pants coming off too. Then, while grabbing Arthur’s hand, he guiding then through the glowing waves out and out and out into the sea, reaching an area were rock formations towered over them, their angry waves splashing against their faces, but all still in the shallows of the water. Things progressed from there quickly. Somehow the kissing became more aggressive, and cocks rubbed against one another’s while hands traversed wet bodies and the kissing was salty and warm, and then blood made an appearance.

Arthur and Mordred made love with each other that night. And that was the night everything changed for Arthur. He no longer felt alone, he no longer felt sad, he no longer felt nothing anymore, but he felt everything. The stars glowing against his sin, the sea waves carving his skin, the bioluminescent glowing on him and around him, Mordred. He forgot that night why he was so sad. He forgot why he was so terribly angry and alone, because that night, Arthur was no longer alone.

But was it for better or for worse?


Chapter Text

Waking up was always the hardest. It is the time of day that your dreams, however good or bad they were, disappeared, the thoughts drifting away into nothing, leaving behind a path of emptiness that cannot be filled. So you’re left there, in your bed, or wherever it was you let your head fall the previous night and you’re alone.

Merlin hated mornings. To be honest, he was never really a morning person, the vengeful rays of the sun making themselves known to every person, gloating, prideful and uncaring. It wasn’t really that, though. It was the fact he had to face the real world then. He could no longer hide away in his dreams, keeping himself in a world that was a construct of his subconscious thoughts and imaginations and longings, if he could dream any more, but he couldn’t. He hadn’t dreamed since, well, a long time and that made him hollow.

He had to shake the thoughts, so he did. He let the sun burn at his flesh as he covered his eyes by the flesh of his arm, ignoring the pungent smell of decay and blood that filtered into his nose. He had forgotten the events of last night. He had forgotten the events of many last nights, but he had lost care.

Sighing, he ignored the sun and looked at the naked corpse next to him, the man’s blonde hair covering the pillow, his blue eyes forever glaring at the hotel room ceiling. What was his name? Peter? Philip? He could not remember. He was annoyed with the dead creature. How could something so beautiful become so foul in only a few hours? Pity that was, the fragility of the human body, how quickly the Earth wished to claim it back.

There was a buzzing next to him. He looked.

It was his phone, the image of a blonde haired, blue eyed boy smiling greeting him. Such a depressing image, was all he could think as he mindlessly answered it. “Hello?” he said, thoroughly annoyed.

He decided to get dressed while the boy on the other line talked about gibberish. “Hey, Merlin,” he said softly. “Guinevere has found new information on the corpses being found in hotel rooms all over Camelot,” he said. “We are meeting here.”

“Yes, thank you, I’ll see you in a bit,” Merlin said with a chipper smile, however false it was.

“Great! Mordred made cake,” Arthur said with a smile, Merlin could see it, if he closed his eyes. He could see the soft blue of Arthur’s eyes light up while his face folded upwards, the flesh acting as waves against the muscles and bones beneath the surface.

Merlin sighed, internally, keeping it from Arthur. “Cake, yum,” Merlin rolled his eyes. He hated cake.

“Oh, hey, um, Gaius said something about Freya’s collar placed in a shadow box, type, thing. Talk to him more about it,” Arthur said.

Merlin clinched his jaw, but said nothing as he made his way from the hotel and to the street, the busy working men and women already walking in their fancy suits, much like the one Merlin was wearing, only neater, and minus the blood stains, and smell of sex and wrinkles.

Merlin didn’t say bye before he hung up, he just pressed the illuminated red button and placed his phone back in his pocket. Merlin realized he should have said bye, but Arthur would not mind, he was too guilty to be angry with him.

He tried to hide his guilt from Merlin, he really did, but they had a bond, different than anything else Merlin had ever experienced, and with the bond came with knowledge. Merlin knew when Arthur was happy, sad, guilty, having sex with Mordred or a nightmare. He shared his nightmares at times, though Merlin was the one that sought them out. Merlin did not know if Arthur still loved him though. Maybe Arthur was hiding those feelings from himself too.

Arthur could sometimes feel Merlin’s emotions as well. Merlin could sense Arthur. It was only at times of great emotional change, so sex, blood, and the like. Arthur didn’t understand it, why he felt as he did, but he never said anything about it. Part of him thought it was Merlin, but the other part said he was being stupid. Both, Merlin thought all of time, both.

It took Merlin nearly an hour to walk home. His car still was gone, somewhere with Wolfgang who seemingly fell off the face of the earth. His home still looked the same as it had weeks ago, vines growing on the now rusting fence, dust and webbing covering everything in the interior while sheets still covered most of the furniture. It looked abandoned still, all but for the bedroom. The sheets were changed to another set of black silks Merlin had from Arabia. The bed frame was destroyed. Merlin tore it to bits in a spout of anger. He used the bones from it as wood for the fireplace. So the mattress was left to lay on the dusted marble floor.

The rest of the room was still covered in sheets although the curtains were no longer up, allowing for light to filter in the room during the day. The bathroom was clean, new shampoo and body wash and towels all set up. He would get a new razor for his face but he enjoyed his beard and was keeping it well groomed, along with his shoulder-length hair. Eventually he will shave and trim his hair, but for now it will be as it is.

He pulled his shirt off his shoulders and tossed it aside as he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower to a scorching heat before leaving again. “What are you doing here?” he asked as his back was turned from the doorway.

“Checking on you,” his voice echoed off the barren walls of the room.

He rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m fine,” he replied, searching in his dresser for clothing.

“Your scars still haven’t healed,” the voice said, their footsteps approaching from behind.

Merlin didn’t turn around, or stop his searching for something descent to wear. He didn’t stop until fingers brushed across the swollen flesh of his back, tracing the thick scars that almost looked like wings if it were not for the smaller ones that cut across and caused them to look anything but.

He shuttered, but swiftly turned and grabbed at the wrist that let the fingers graze his skin. “Don’t,” Merlin said. “Don’t do that,” he released Arthur’s hand before turning around once more and finding the shirt he wanted: a red polo.

“Why does it smell like blood in here?” he asked, wondering around the room.

“I tripped and dropped a blood bag, the bloody thing spilled everywhere, and on my violet shirt…pity that was,” he sighed and walked to the bathroom. “I’ll be over soon, let me shower.”

He could hear the echo of Arthur’s shoes hitting the floor until they were gone. He was relieved only to become overcome with an unshakable sadness.

“Oh Merlin, it’s good to see you!” Guin said rushing forward for a hug.

Merlin smiled and took her in his arms, “You too, Guin. It’s been a while.”

“Too long!” She replied before Lance was able to bud in and shake Merlin’s hand.

After the greetings, they all made their way to the large study were Percy and Mordred were talking while Arthur and Gaius were looking at an old leather bound book. Merlin looked around the study, the familiarity lost in his mind. The mahogany book shelves were clean, and glinting off the soft light from the chandeliers. There was a small assortment of computers in the center of the room whilst a few couches lay near a fireplace where most of everyone congregated. The floors were wood, bamboo Merlin thought, but wasn't certain.

“Ah, good, Merlin, you’re here,” Gaius said looking up from his glasses with a smile.

Merlin smiled back and made his way to one of the single chairs near a couch and everyone followed suit, finding themselves a place to sit. “Well, now that everyone is here, we should get down to business.” Gaius said clapping his hands together. “Guinevere, go ahead.”

Guin stood and smiled, “So the local police have found some new evidence on the resent vampire killings, which are now in fact, being handed over to Arthur’s father for investigation. Before he came in and took over, I was able to look at the evidence, and this is what we have gotten so far.”

“We believe it to be male, a young vampire, just turned most likely. No master, let loose on Camelot, but he knows not to get caught. However, we have found some articles of his clothing and DNA gathered from all of the bodies,” she said with a hopeful smile. “We ran it through the database and found that it was the victims, sadly.”

Damn, I knew I left my blazer in that blasted hotel room, Merlin thought to himself, annoyed.

“We also know he only kills them in hotels, and he never hits one more than once. I assume tonight your father will have men undercover set up?” She asked Arthur before sitting back down by her fiancé.

“Correct, he is. I am being placed at the hotel closest to the university while everyone else will be placed at various others he has yet to hit.”

“How are you going to find him?” Merlin asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t just stop everyone who walks in with a man, people will get suspicious and if it is the wrong couple while the perp is near, he is likely to leave.” Merlin said.

“That is a risk we are willing to take,” Mordred said stepping in.

Merlin rolled his eyes at the child before him, but said nothing more. He kept his mouth shut, listening to Arthur continue the line of action. His eyes fell to his love’s lips and his voice, the way his Adams apple bobbed against the smooth flesh of his neck, Arthur’s blonde hair curling a bit just at the nape of his neck. Beautiful.

Arthur’s muscular chest pressed against the tight fitting sweater he wore, no doubt something Mordred got him. He still looked fantastic in it and his jeans were a nice dark color, blue possibly, that fit well against his waist while the leg holes stopped just on top his bare feet. He was a creature of beauty that Merlin was not allowed to touch, a museum of everything magical and perfect left in the world placed in a single display that would have Merlin killed if he touched it; the prized possession of another.

A depressing thought, really, but nonetheless true.

Arthur shifted on his heels, possibly due to Merlin’s incessant staring, so he turned away, just in enough time because Arthur looked at him, but not for long, just a quick glance, to see if Merlin was looking at him. That was what Merlin would like to have thought, but he would not know without piercing Arthur’s mind and he would not invade him like that any longer.

Their little meeting came to end shortly after and most of everyone left, Lance and Guinevere having to talk to their priest before the wedding in a couple of weeks, and Percy had to pick Gawaine up from the airport. Gaius went home too, since he still was teaching at the University, only this time he took Merlin’s position in his absence. Mordred left as well, saying something about the Covens expecting him and things of the sorts. Merlin didn’t believe him, but he shrugged the thought thinking it not his place.

It was just Arthur and Merlin, for the first time in a really long time it was just the two of them. They were in the study still, this time placed on the chairs in front of the burning flame in the fireplace, both with a mug of blood. They sat silently, for the longest time. Merlin became entranced in the flames that raged war against the stone encasing them.

“Merlin, can I ask you something?” Arthur eventually asked, his legs laying on the couch and under a small blanket.

“I don’t see why not,” Merlin replied taking a sip from his mug.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Merlin clenched his jaw slightly but his eyes still looked at the fire before he answered. “I don’t see why not?” he first said. “I’m alive, I’m home, and I’m more or less healthy, minus the episodes, of course, which I have not had in a few days,” he smirked. “So I suppose I am, yes,” he followed with a smile towards Arthur.

“No, I mean, between us.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Most people don’t ever talk again after a break up, and tend to be angry. You, you’re just, normal. You’re the same Emrys as you were three and a half years ago.”

Merlin was not the same, not anymore. No one would be the same after what he had gone through, not a single person. No, Merlin in fact was not the same. He was okay with drinking from live people now, and he was even okay with killing them, something he would have never done before. He did nothing productive during the days recently, which was something he had never done in his life, ever, unlike the killing. He stopped caring and loving, though he would always love Arthur. That was his curse, his kryptonite, his catalyst, the love he held for Arthur.

He stopped dreaming.

That was the biggest change for him. The ending of his dreams, but there was no longer anything for him to dream. Not love, not pain, not hurt. He had become hollow with a guilt and pain that they all just disappeared, an escape mechanism no doubt, but still real.  

“Do wish for me to be different?” Merlin asked.

“No, that’s not what I meant, I just…most people change from something like that…”

“I’m not most people,” Merlin retorted.

Arthur sighed, but not an annoyed one, just, sigh. “No, you’re not.” There was another moment of pause. “We’re still friends though, right?”

Merlin didn’t answer right away. He was a little stunned by the fact Arthur needed confirmation of their eternal friendship, a comfort that needed to be spoken, like a verbal contract between a Demon and Man. In a way, it was the same for Merlin. “Always,” Merlin finally replied.


“Want to go watch Game of Thrones?” he asked, slicing through the awkward tension that had gone off like an H-bomb in the room.

“Sure,” Merlin replied with a smile before drinking the last of his room temperature blood, bleh.


“Arthur, you have a piano?” Merlin asked surprised he had never seen it before as they walked from the living room, having finished Game of Thrones.

“Oh yeah. I got it when I found the Violin to not be my thing, so I learned to play. Turns out I’m a natural,” he smiled, making his way the black bench.

Merlin laughed, “I could have told you that you were no good at the Violin,” Merlin laughed sitting by him.

“Prick,” Arthur replied.

“Watch your mouth,” Merlin said rolling his eyes.


Merlin gave him a sideways glance, “That includes Shakespeare,” Merlin laughed and Arthur joined him. “Play me something then?”

“Of course,” he replied.

He opened the lid and looked at the white keys for a long moment, though he let his fingers brush over the keys. Then he began to play.

It was slow at first and in A Minor, but it soon sped up, not too quickly, but not as slow either. It reminded Merlin of desperation, and longing. He imagined and young boy or girl running, just running, a grey cloud chasing her while she or he tried their best to find shelter, but unable to.

Merlin knew the piece being played, he knew it very well. “Nocturne,” he whispered just as it got increasingly slow, halfway through he assumed.

Arthur nodded and smiled but he never took his eyes off the piano, though they were closed. But then there were footsteps, echoing off the hard floors causing both Merlin and Arthur to turn and look, the music ceasing its melancholic melody, though a few notes lingered in the room.

“Mordred,” Arthur said, though he was not worried. “Merlin and I were just talking about how shite I was at the violin and then he asked me to play for him,” Arthur smiled.

“The memories,” Merlin interjected. “Whatever happened to that Violin I let you use?”

“I think I still-“

“You’ve never played for me,” were the first words he said.

The room fell silent and Merlin looked at Arthur, whose face was nearly unreadable, but he could tell the flash of hurt cross his face. “I’ve never thought about it,” Arthur responded. “I can though, if you wish it of me,” Arthur said standing up from the bench.

“I’d like that,” he smiled towards him.

Merlin sat on the bench awkwardly for a moment before he decided it was about time he left. “I should be heading off now,” he said standing up from the bench and heading towards the archway that separated this room and the living area.

“Yeah, I think that’d be best,” Mordred shot at him.

Merlin smirked but said nothing to him to even suggest he heard him. “Are we all meeting up tomorrow? After tonight’s events?”

“Depends on what we find, to be honest. I’m still trying to get my father to let my unit go out on individuals but it’s hard to do that,” Arthur replied while following Merlin to the entryway.

“Does he suspect?” Merlin asked stopping just before the door.

“Of course not, not even Morgana,” he smiled. “He’s blinded by his love for us.”

“Indeed,” Merlin opened the door and walked into the cool night air, Arthur still following close behind him.

“Oh, I never told you, but um, there’s more than one of me in my unit.”

“What?” Merlin asked confused. “Have you started cloning yourself now?”

“God no, no. I mean, I’m not the only vampire. My entire unit is vampire, mostly. We were ambushed a few weeks ago and they were all turned.” He leaned against his BMW and crossed his arms. “They were terrified I was going to kill them,” he let out a sort of laugh. “They were surprised when I told them, but they were happy. Theon was just glad he was alive,” Merlin shook his head and sighed.

“Did you kill those who turned them?”

“Yeah, I did, before I had realized what had happened. A few of my unit didn’t make the change though, three of ‘em.” Arthur let his shoulders sink - he was still sad.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got a meeting before tonight so I’ll let you be on. I’ll call you with any new information.” And Merlin was gone.

Just like that he left, letting the night air guide him as he walked, though inhumanly fast, no one able to see him. He eventually reached the gates the surrounded his home, the metal claimed by the vines that grew high on the rusted iron bars. One day, maybe one day he would clear them off, make his home look like it used too. Maybe.

“Merlin!” called from the gate in front of him.

“Morgana?” Merlin asked walking forward as she stood up off the ground, dusting herself off.

“I was looking for you,” she said with a smile.

“You’ve found me.” She laughed. “Come on in,” Merlin said.

She nodded and followed behind him as he pulled open the creaking gate and walked up the stairs and into his home. “I’ve never been here before,” she said when they walked in.

“It looked much nicer before…” Merlin trailed off. “Sorry you never saw it in its glory.”

“It’s still beautiful,” she said running her hand over a table the no longer held the white sheets that covered every other bit of furniture.

“So, what is it I can do you for?” He asked her as they walked into the just as abandoned kitchen, the echo of her heels hitting the black marble floors bringing the house to life.

“I wanted to talk to you but us,” She said leaning against the island in the center of the large kitchen.


“Vampires,” she added on.

“Ah, okay. Why have you chosen to speak to me about it? The Covens have everything you need to learn about us,” he said searching for two cups.

“I know. I was reading a story in the library, a myth or something about a vampire being born and not created. When I asked the Elders they all denied it as truth and said it was myth, but I fear they are lying. Why would they?”

“Fear mostly,” Merlin said finally finding the two cups. He walked to the sink to rinse them. “Vampire are a fearful species, that is why we are hidden from the human world. Well, it isn’t just fear, but that’s part of it,” he shrugged and looked in his refrigerator for blood, lucky enough to have some.

“Why would we fear someone like that?”

“Power,” Merlin replied opening the bag and filling the two cups before placing them in the microwave. “Vampire society is based off power,” he said turning to face her. “The Elders are the more powerful, older, and wiser vampire in the covens. That is why they are the leaders. Then there is the Council who is run by a mixture of new blood and old, to keep a balance and to keep up with the times as the Elders die, the court-system.” He took the cups from the microwave and handed one to Morgana who still leaned against the island. “If a vampire is born, the control they have over the vampire population could be lost. They cannot have that.”

“How come you are not part of the covens?” She asked as she took the cub from Merlin.

“I don’t agree with them nor do they agree with me,” Merlin said with a smile. “They are good people however, the Covens. They are like modern day druids with a more democratic way of life.” He took a sip from his mug.

There was a pause of silence as they drank from their cups. Merlin was disappointed at the taste, having become accustomed to drinking from the living. He sighed once he was done and turned to put it in the sink.

“Is that all that you wanted to know?” Merlin asked turning around to face Morgana again.

“That is not what I came here to ask you, actually,” she said setting her empty glass on the island.

“Then why did you come here?” he asked again turning to face Morgana, only to be hit by a body, forcing his back into the sink while a sharp blade of some kind pierced his flesh, the smell of his blood already radiating into the air. Merlin was in too much shock to stop it as she thrusted towards him and maybe a part of him wanted her to stab him, though he knew the outcome would not be what wither wished in the end.

The blade was dragon’s bane, crafted with obsidian glass and the bane forged into it, giving it a red hue when hit with the light. It was the only weapon ever forged that could kill a vampire; Merlin should know, he forged it himself. He lost it many years ago, when the late elders hunted him down. They must have found it when they burned the village he stayed in.

He gripped Morgana’s wrist and pushed her backwards into the Island. “Where did you find this?” He asked her, gripping the dragon bone hilt and pulling it from him.

She only smiled as Merlin became dizzy and lightheaded, sliding down the sink before landing on his knees. He shook his head. He was too weak to take it out. Luckily it wouldn’t kill him, couldn’t kill him. But it would cause him to pass out, and he did, Morgana’s smiling face the last thing he remembered.

Chapter Text

Merlin finally dreamt, though calling it a dream would be subjective; it was more a memory--it was a memory-- a recent one, a good one. The dream or memory, or whatever it was called was so recent, Merlin could taste the air on the tip of his tongue, he could still smell the aroma Arthur was putting off, his body language, every strand of hair that fell passed his brow. He remembered exactly how his fingers fell in love with ivory keys as they glided over them in such a fantastic harmony, Merlin would never be able to replicate it for the rest of his immortal life again nor had he ever seen it before hand. It was true perfection and beauty. It took the dream, a mere memory, for Merlin to realize he needed to change his ways. He could not risk losing this true beauty and harmony in the world, not when he had lived so long just to find it. Merlin, in that moment of waking, tears threatening to avalanche from his eyes, vowed to never do or allow himself to fall like he did. He vowed to protect and save and keep all things dear to him alive and happy, even if that meant moving on and letting them love someone else. He needed to grow up and stop acting like such a child. So he did.

With his new revival, Merlin needed to get free. He needed to apologize and ask for forgiveness and then he would leave. There was no reason for him to stay, no problem keeping him in Camelot. Arthur did not need him anymore, didn’t want him. Morgana and Mordred were no problem, flies on the wall compared to others Merlin had faced. Besides, Uther was getting too suspicious and he must have known he was the one captured for so many years; how could he not? So it was past time Merlin left.

He groaned and looked up, his wrists high above his head, the chains gripping angrily at his flesh, hit feet barely making contact with the stone floor beneath him. There were bits of old furniture strewn about the room, covered with dead skin and the carcasses of long dead creatures. The only light was provided by an opening in the roof and the opened door, the rays of the setting sun kissing the cracks of the stone floor. There were also candle sticks, though they had clearly not been used in a long time but for a few near the opened entryway.

Merlin pulled down on the chains at his wrists, looking up again as dust filtered down into his eyes. He blinked the dry pain away and pulled against the chains. The plank of wet, rotting, wood that was holding the chain rope bent terribly easy and the chains, rusted slightly, screamed as if the action caused the inanimate object pain. Merlin sighed and pulled harder, until the wood could no longer concave towards him and it snapped, sending bits of the room tumbling down while he was placed onto his feet fully. Dust flew round him, causing a misty fog to fill the room until gravity forced the bits back down to the ground minutes later.

Once he was no longer hanging, he left, ignoring the chains still attached to his wrists and the fact he was not wearing a shirt or shoes. The weather in Camelot was changing. The leaves were yellowing and the air was cool and the clouds were gray. Merlin loved autumn, especially in Camelot. It was a pity Merlin would be leaving before it truly began.

Merlin would enjoy the time left he had, he promised himself that as he trekked barefooted through a Camelot forest, the decaying leaves playing at his feet. He had no real care to find out why Morgana captured him, not really, not until he saw her and she saw him. But there she was, starring him in the face, startled and utterly confused as to who she was looking at. “How did you get out?” she said, her shoulders shuttering as she straitened them.

“You cannot honestly be that dull to think a rotting bit of wood and a chain could keep me?” Merlin laughed. “Come on Morgana, you’re smarter than that.”

She growled, her brows making a ‘V’ at the base of her forehead. “If you are questioning my intelligence, I’d think twice. After all, I did in fact capture you.”

“Did you, though?”

She growled again, but had nothing more to say, leaving Merlin only one option which was to leave. He took a step forward and side passed from Morgana but she then did something unexpected. She reached and grabbed his wrist, softly, and asked him to wait. Her thoughts were too loud not to be read, so Merlin read them. They were filled with envy and jealousness but also a sense, no a need, to get through to her brother, to let him see that his love for his father, his loyalty was going to get him killed.

Merlin had never given any thoughts to the idea that Arthur could die by going on the path he has chosen. But, the likely hood was slim, after all, Morgana has been a vampire far longer and Uther had yet to see her for who she really was. No, Uther would not be Arthur’s downfall. If anyone were to be Arthur’s downfall, Mordred would be it, though what that downfall was, Merlin did not know. However, Merlin could never certain if Mordred were going to be his downfall or even it was going to be a bad one. Only time will tell.

“Please, Merlin, Arthur needs our help, and the only one he is willing to listen to it you,” she said.

“It is not my place, Morgana,” Merlin said, forcibly removing his wrist from her grasp. “It is not my place,” he said again, forcing himself to believe his own words and then he was gone. Within seconds he was out of sight from her and near a road that was a few miles from where they were. The road lead right to his estate, and so Merlin went home, probably for the last time.

Chapter Text

Arthur was sitting on the crumbling, cracked steps that lead to the heavy wooden door that was the entrance to Merlin's home. His face was in his hands and a soft tremble could be seen from his shoulders, though he was not crying. When he heard the hollow steps of Merlin’s feet collide with the sparse rocks on the concrete driveway, he looked up with dark, shielded eyes. “Hello, Arthur,” Merlin said walking up the steps and passed Arthur, stepping into his home without so much as glancing at Arthur or even acknowledging his presence, other than having spoken to him.

Merlin did not wait for Arthur to follow him, he knew he was going to, so he was already making his way up the black marble staircase when the soft thud of the door shutting could be heard, followed by the socked feet of Arthur hitting the marble stairs. They were silent in voice, but Merlin’s thoughts raced and searched for a reason as to why Arthur would be here. Merlin did not wish to search his thoughts; he did not want to betray the trust of Arthur like that, or invade his private self. He was left with the overbearing feeling of fear as they walked silently up to the master bedroom.

When they reached the familiar room, Merlin went to his closet, leaving Arthur in the main room to sit on the disheveled bed. Merlin was searching round for his suitcase when Arthur finally spoke. “Why did you do it?” he said in a nimble voice.

When those words filled Merlins ears his heart fell into Hell as the blood, every pint of it, went to his face. He ducked his head in between his shoulders as he started unzipping the suitcase he found. Merlin knew what Arthur meant. Arthur new Merlin knew, especially as a silent filled tension radiated in the entire estate for a good five minutes. Merlin finally grew the courage to leave the closet and face Arthur. “We all have a time in our life when we fall into a black hole of depression, Arthur,” he said. “This was mine.”

“You said you would never do that again,” Arthur stood, his eyes low, the blue glassy and sad but still just as shielded. “You lied.”

“This time was different, Arthur,” Merlin said walking to the now standing man.

“You should have come to me,” Arthur said. “I could have helped you.”

“No one could have helped me.”

Merlin stopped just a few feet from Arthur, his broad chest rising and falling in that perfect symmetry that it did. “I could have helped you,” Arthur again said.

“No, Arthur, you couldn’t have.” Merlin shook his head and let his eyes wonder to the floor.

"You abandoned me! Buried an empty grave, forgot about me. You stopped trying to find me," he growled, forcing Arthur backwards a bit. Merlin followed. "You let them keep me chained in a room, drained, beaten, tortured with things unimaginable. Three years Arthur, and after what? A few Months? You stopped trying. You gave up." Merlin clenched his fists. "So yeah, it was me. I was angry. At everyone. I hated everyone. I hated you. So I lashed out. I turned off all of my care in the world. Because of you. You abandoned me," a tear threatened his eyes.

Arthur reached a hand out towards him and was successful at capturing the older vampire’s hand. He took a step forward, placing his free hand on Merlin’s cheek and chin, his pinky finger caressing Merlin's neck and collar bone softly. He leaned his head in and placed their foreheads together and looked, truly looked into Merlin’s eyes. “You should have to come to me,” Arthur said softly.

“How could I?” Merlin pleaded with a feeble, voice.

How did Arthur do this to him? How could one man, after all these years, reduce Merlin into a sobbing, broken thing of flesh and bone by a single touch alone? His strength seemed to be nonexistent when the softness of Arthur’s fingers made love to his face. Merlin was not prepared to be faced with this right now. Earlier, not even an hour before, he proclaimed his rebirth. He was born into a new light, a new strength, one who could no longer be broken. He had a plan, an almost-purpose, but now it was nothing; shattered dreams and self-promises because of the damned boy who he was cursed to love for eternity.

“I’m your person, Merlin, I have always been your person,” Arthur said.

“No, you’re his person,” Merlin replied coldly, his eyes burning holes into the floor.

Arthur sucked in a deep breath before he replied to Merlin. He closed his blue eyes and released the air across Merlin’s face, his warm air sending tingles throughout the raven haired boy’s body. He was thinking, Merlin deduced, about what to reply with or if he was going to reply at all. But he did reply. “I will always love you, Merlin,” Arthur whispered into the bridge of Merlin’s nose and kissed it. “You will always be my person, I thought you knew that? You were there for me in the beginning, ever sense my life was no longer mine. You helped reclaim it, find myself again. You, Merlin.”

Merlin shook his head and closed his eyes and inhaled, long and fully, the oxygen burning at his lunges as though he had not taken a breath in ages. He let Arthur’s words sink into the neurons of his brain, in his bones, in every inch of him. And then he spoke, the involuntary compulsion of words erupting from him like magma from a volcano, “I’m leaving, Arthur,” the words filled the small space between them as they were hushed out of his parted lips. He did not mean to say it, but he did. “Camelot…I’m leaving Camelot.”

Merlin was unsure if he were really going to leave now, now that he knew Arthur did still love him, like he did. But Mordred…and the fact that the love he was speaking of may not be as lovers, as mates, but as friends, as family. The unsurety of the situation, of those words brought fear into the heart of Merlin.

“You’re leaving?” Arthur repeated.

Merlin looked into Arthur’s eyes, “I have no reason to stay.”

“You have me.”

“And you have Mordred.” Merlin retorted.

Arthur brought both hands to the side of Merlin’s and brought his face down to look fully at him. “No, Merlin, I have you,” and then they kissed. For the first time in years, their lips touched, and Merlin melted.

His heart stopped working, his mind went blank. He ran his fingers into the familiar blonde hair and pulled softly. Both of their eyes were closed, but their hands were roaming, claiming, figuring out each other again. Arthur smelled different now, a good different. He was older and his build was completely filled out with his vampire strength. His skin was still bronze, though a glow was alongside it. He was finally a mature vampire now. But Merlin also remembers the human Arthur, the young, rowdy boy, who skipped class and gave him a wank under a table at his home. He remembers the wild thing, who was spectacular at football. Every Arthur was his favorite Arthur.

He pulled away from the passionate kiss, finally realizing his back had been pressed against one of the bare walls of his bedroom, a thigh in between his leg rubbing against the erection he had no idea he had. Arthur was kissing at his neck, nipping at the skin with his fangs, as he moaned. Merlin moaned in return; god it felt good to finally be with Arthur again. But something was off, and not completely right, the air growing heavy and tainted. Someone else was in the house. “Arthur, wait,” Merlin said but Arthur did not listen.

He continued to kiss and nip at his neck until his fangs swiftly broke the skin and Merlin’s blood pooled into his eager lips. Merlin moaned, the sensation indescribable as Arthur drank his life source down. But he grew rough, pinning Merlin’s hands above his head as he continued. Too much, Merlin thought. Too much. Merlin was growing weak and after having Morgana tie him up and stabbed, he was fading too quickly. What was happening to Arthur? Why was he not listening?

Merlin feebly pushed against Arthur’s chest forcing him to fly backward a few feet. His eyes were glazed over, his hair a bit of a mess as blood dripped from the corners of his mouth. He looked like an animal. A rabid dog. Merlin cupped his neck, the tendrils of cells quickly healing the wound. Arthur approached him again but Merlin held his arm out, his hand on the blonde’s chest and kept him at bay. “Arthur, stop,” he said surprisingly calm. He continued to say it, trying to surpass the his instinct to rip Arthur's head off, his mind naturally imaging the orchestra of breaking bones, the hurricane of blood that would spew from the gaping hole where his head once sat. He imagined swimming with lust and rage as he drained what little blood the creature would have left. He did not act on this urge.

Arthur, listen, this is not you, come back to me, Merlin said to his thoughts. Nothing. Leaving no other option, Merlin read his thoughts.  What he read was terrifying and worrying. Arthur was under a spell, one that kept him conscious but out of control of his body. He was in so much pain on the inside, as one would after being hijacked by an old magic, which was being misused. He was crying and screaming on the inside while his animalistic instincts were brought to the surface and acting of their own accord. Vampires natural instinct is to find blood, living blood, and most definitely not of their own kind; it would kill him. Merlin's mind ran, Why is he doing this? Then he knew. He figured it out. Mordred.

Merlin new who it was. Mordred. But he could not worry about that now, he needed to help Arthur and there was only way to do it: he needed to break the connection from Mordred to Arthur. Merlin set his arm down and let Arthur approach him again, but this time, when he was close enough, Merlin turned the tides and was the one draining the boy. He gripped his blonde hair tightly, pulled his head back to bare his throat, and then he bit down, letting Arthur’s blood fill his mouth and system. Arthur released a grunt or a moan, maybe a mix of both as Merlin began drinking from him. He tried to get away but Merlin had too tight a grip on his hair and waist, so Arthur was only left to walk backwards.

The bed was what caused his knees to buckle and Arthur to fall back, Merlin falling on top of him as he continued to slowly drain the boy. Before long, Arthur stopped his struggle and eventually his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he was unconscious. Merlin was struggling to not kill him, his blood too sweet, too toxic to resist. He gripped the bed sheets tightly in both fits until his knuckles turned white and growled when he released the boy. There was no spilled blood, no marks as Arthur healed quickly, no evidence but his pale skin and cold flesh and unconscious body that Merlin had been so close to killing him. But it had to be done.

The connection broke when Arthur fell unconscious, but he did not stay that way for long. When he came to, he sat up quickly and yelled, his body convulsing from the apparent pain he was under. Tears began to stream down his cheeks and Merlin quickly pulled him into his lap and hugged him close as the boy continued to convulse and cry out. There was no antidote to the pain. And Merlin cursed the old magic’s for making it so. He did this for what seemed liked days, Merlin holding him into his chest and cooing soothing words at him until Arthur could no longer cry and writhe in pain. Until his body gave out and his tear ducts dried up, leaving him a shell of a person in Merlin’s arms.

Merlin vowed to never leave Arthur again, not after this. He was going to protect him. And he was going to kill Mordred for doing what he did to the best vampire being on the planet or ever to walk the face of the Earth. Merlin was going to find him and kill him. He would worry about Uther later. Arthur was his priority now. Especially after the pain that Arthur felt, Merlin could feel too. He needed answers. He needed a lot.

Merlin was going nowhere for a very, very, long time.

Chapter Text

“Gawaine, try and not kill him!” Merlin shouted from the opened doors of the dining room.

“Me? Have you seen this fucking brute of a child?” Just as he spoke, he was charged and knocked over onto the ground and was immediately taken into a wrestling match with Arthur.

Merlin laughed and ignored the spike of possessiveness and jealousy that rolled through his veins at the two men, but he knew it was only a game. He also knew Gawaine would not risk his friendship or life over this, so the feeling went away as quickly as they came.

The last few weeks had been a chaotic symphony of events. Arthur and Merlin were reunited and their relationship had never been stronger. But they were on the brink of war and on the run. Not only Merlin and Arthur, but also Gawaine and Lance and Percy and Geraint and Elyan, Bertran, and Vidor, all of whom helped Merlin and Arthur. They were all on the run from the Council for “crimes against the covens due to insubordination” and some other fancy terms that simply meant they pissed off the wrong people. They also found out they were all connected to Merlin which was seen as aiding a wanted criminal.

While a small group of the men worked on their sword and gun and fighting skills, a few were with Merlin in the dining room discussing plans for what was to come next.

“Listen, we need to contact my friends in the States, they could help us,” Vidor suggested.

“We can’t trust anyone outside of our circle,” Elyan said back.

“The Covens are all over the world, so no matter where we go, they will find us. Besides, they have their little pets Mordred and Morgana,” Geraint said with a sigh as he leaned back against the chair.

Merlin huffed but said nothing. “We also need to worry about Uther and his army of slaves. They know about Merlin and what happened, they have been constantly searching for him. I also suspect he is getting weary of Arthur and Morgana’s absence from his life recently which is not a good thing to have, his suspicion,” Vidor said. Vidor was one of the Hunters in Arthur’s unit and one of the new bloods, though Elyan was the newest, being only a year old in vampire terms.

“We need to kill Uther,” Geraint said.

Everyone fell silent at the words knowing the truth in them but also the weight they carried. Arthur was one of the most loyal beings to walk the planet and killing his father would be as if he were betraying everything he stood for. He would not allow it. Not in a million years. “Maybe if we found evidence, something that would let Arthur see why he needed to, and that it wouldn’t be as if he were betraying his father,” Geraint finally added in the tension black hole.

“He’s right,” Merlin said. “We need to find out more information about Uther and possibly build a case to help sway Arthur to it,” Merlin sighed. “Geraint and Elyan, you two can be in charge of finding that out sense you two are still assigned here in Camelot.”

“Vidor, have you found anything else out about Mordred and Morgana?” Merlin asked

“Yeah, I have.”

“I haven’t got all day, spill it.”

“It’s you,” he said. “You’re the end game. More specifically, they want your blood. You are the key to ruling the world, basically. They get your blood, your strength, they overthrow the covens and enslave the humans whilst killing all those who oppose them.”

“That must have been why the spelled Arthur into bleeding me,” Merlin said.

“Mordred is the most dangerous of them. He has knowledge of the old world, the Druids specifically. He is of the purest forms of vampire on the planet next to you which means he is the strongest and most likely able to get to you through force,” Vidor said, a wave of worry crossing his face. “We need to be careful around him. He is a telepath.”

“So am I,” Merlin retorted.

“That doesn’t make you invincible, Merlin,” Geraint stated.

“Look, let’s just go ahead with everything starting tomorrow, yeah? We can only stay in Camelot for another few days before they trace us to this place. Agreed?” Merlin asked.

“Agreed,” and that concluded their meeting, all of them leaving the table and making their way outside.

Merlin looked to the back of the yard at the small gravestone that read: “Freya” with her birth year and death date, and he felt a small hole in his heart as he looked at it briefly. She died a year after Merlin was gone and Gaius buried her under her favorite laying spot.

He let his eyes fall to the ground for a moment before he felt the familiar feeling of Arthur near him and how he radiated love which he was unable to resist. He looked up and met the icy blue eyes of his partner, all covered in dew drops of sweat, his large chest rising and falling with each intake of hurried breath.

“Have a good talk?”

“Of course,” Merlin said before kissing Arthur soft on the lips. “Have you talked to your father recently?”

“Only when he called and told me about my unit and a few new additions. I have to go see him tomorrow for a briefing,” he said pushing his long blonde bangs from his eyes.

Merlin slid his fingers into Arthurs and held his hand as they walked to the picnic table in the vast yard, under the shade of a row of trees where the others sat. “We should go to Ireland,” Lancelot said when the two sat down.

“I’ve never been,” Arthur agreed.

“Why Ireland?” Geraint asked.

“Guin and I want to get married there,” he said.

Merlin nodded and smiled. The two had been engaged for two years now. They wanted to wait for Merlin to come back before they got married and now he was back, they could. Merlin felt guilty. Arthur knew it too, and he squeezed Merlin’s hand in hopes to make him feel better. It did, but only a little.

“We should do it,” Merlin agreed, sending them both encouraging smiles. “I can marry you two, if you want?”

“You’re licensed? In Ireland?” Guin commented.

“I’m licensed in every country in this world,” he smiled.

“Yes!” She squealed, jumping from her spot by Lancelot and ran around the table to hug Merlin tightly. For a human she had a very strong grip.

“We plan on getting married by Friday,” Lance said smiling. “Will we be there long enough?”

“I planned on us staying at our next location for about a month, so yes.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so excited!”

Merlin smiled but his thoughts were distant. Too many loves were on his hands, and too many decisions needed to be made. Tough decisions. And one of those could cost his relationship with Arthur.


“Gaius, thank you for everything old friend,” Merlin said taking the old man in an embrace. “You have been the best human I’ve ever had the chance to know.”

“You’re going to make me emotional,” he said with sad blue yes. “I will miss you Merlin,” he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Stay safe, and keep Arthur close.”

“I will, I promise,” he said releasing him from the hug.

“Take care, Merlin. Until we meet again,” and Merlin was gone, walking up the stairs of the private jet, the stairs rising behind him, sealing everyone in. Wolfgang was waving at Gaius from the pilot seat before the plane rolled off and eventually, was in the air, leaving Gaius alone on the tarmac, tears streaming from his face as he said goodbye to his best friend for the last time.

“Until we meet again.”


“It was only a two-hour plane ride,” Lance said rolling his eyes at the drama queen of a Gawaine, and was stomping around as he grabbed his suitcase.

Gawaine hated flying, but he especially hated very close spaces. He had claustrophobia and despised anything small like a plane, but it was something he would eventually grow accustomed to or just shut up about. Eventually.  

The group was already on location and unloading the cars of their bags when they were approached by the family they were staying with. “Lance, Guin, it is so good to see you!” The eldest of the women said with a smile.

They were nuns.

They were at a Convent. Fantastic.

“Oh it is so good to see you Mother Elizabeth,” Guin hugged the woman tightly while a few of the other women grabbed her bags.

“Lancelot, I hope you’ve taken good care of our daughter,” the nun smiled hugging him.

“Always, Mother Elizabeth,” he smiled taking her into his arms.

Guin was taken in by nuns when she was orphaned as a young girl after her father was murdered. “Well, let’s get you lot inside before you get sick, c’mon,” she ushered everyone towards the large and very old Convent. They were staying of the Irish Coast, the smell of the sea and crashing of waves filling Merlins senses. Guin and Lancelot were getting married on the beach, Mother Elizabeth giving Guin away and Merlin marrying them.

Merlin smiled at Guin and Lance as they walked in tune with the nuns, Guin going on about her life over the years, though she kindly left out any mention of the recent events and the biggest reason for them being there. Percy and Gawaine were walking some distance behind them, not holding hands, but letting their shoulder touch as they walked in silence. Arthur walked beside Merlin and talked about having to fly back to see his father, but that after the briefing he would be back. The trip would take two days at most, but he would keep Merlin up to date with everything going on, on the mainland. The others of the group would be going with Arthur too, sense they were part of his unit, but they were going to drop their things off here before they left.

Merlin could not help but think of how nice it was for the nuns to take them in, all of them, with no questions. Though Guin did say they were getting married, but still, some of the men were leaving before Friday, so questions were sure to have been asked about why they were there. Maybe for support? Merlin shrugged the thought away and left it to be an unanswered curiosity he had.

“Mother Elizabeth, I have a question,” Merlin said jogging up to her as they reached the Convent grounds.

“Yes, of course dear,” she smiled. She reminded him of Gaius oddly enough.

“Do you hold mass here?”

“Latin masses, yes, but tonight we have special guests from the Choir of Cambridge, their all boys choir,” she smiled clapping her hands together.

“I would like to come, if you don’t mind,” he asked.

“It would be our honor to have you come,” she smiled. “I don’t think I ever got you name?”

“Merlin Emrys,” he shook her old hands softly and she smiled at his gentle touch.

“Right this way and I will show you all to your rooms,” she said stepping aside so the boys could look walk down the long corridor. “The rooms that you can sleep in are on the left. Each room is filled with only one twin bed, but there should be plenty of rooms for all of you. Guin will be sleeping where the nuns sleep in one of our empty rooms.” She followed behind the boys as they picked their rooms. “I do not think I will have to tell you to be quiet, but be quiet. The nuns are in bed by ten and the Choir boys are in bed by nine. They will be sleeping in the bedrooms across from you.”

“Thank you,” Arthur told her before disappearing into his chosen room and shutting the door behind him, as did the others.

Mother Elizabeth left while everyone got settled into their rooms, Gwaine and Percy already having decided to sneak into each other’s room to sleep with one another. They would not disrespect the sanctity of the Convents beliefs and have sex, but they would still share a bed; it was too normal for them and they could no longer sleep without the other.

Merlin laughed as the two whispered and devised their plan. They were pathetically adorable.

Merlin was laughing when he knocked on Arthur’s door. He was greeted with Arthur on his phone, but still a warming smile. Arthur pulled him and kissed him on the nose, before telling his father he loved him and that he would be at headquarters in four hours. He did not say where he was. Then he hung up.

“We really need to go,” Arthur said running a hand through his lengthy bangs.

“Go ahead,” Merlin said, squeezing Arthur’s waist tightly and pulling their bodies flush.

Merlin was nuzzling into Arthur’s neck, nipping at his flesh and kissing him, telling him he loved in every language. Arthur was giggling and running his fingers through Merlin’s longer than shoulder length hair. “Are you ever going to cut your hair?”

Merlin stopped and looked at Arthur, smiling. “Why? I thought you liked my hair long?” he said, gasping dramatically at the end.

“I do, I love it,” he smiled and kissed Merlin deeply, letting his fingers tangle in Merlin’s raven locks. “I was only making sure you weren’t,” he said between breathes.

“I will trim it, but never cut it off unless you wanted me to,” Merlin said giving a soft squeeze to Arthur’s waist before they broke apart.

“I really have to go now,” Arthur said sadly.

“I know,” he sighed. “Keep your phone on you,” Merlin kissed Arthur one last time before Arthur left him standing in the room with only the scent of him once being in there.

“I love you,” Arthur said and disappeared down the corridor.

Merlin smiled as the words fluttered in his mind.


There was a soft knock at Merlin’s door causing his eye contact to break from the words on the page. He looked up, the glasses he worse falling slightly down the bridge of is nose. “Come in,” he said swinging his legs over the side of the twin bed, closing the book he read and set it to his side.

“Mr. Emrys,” Mother Elizabeth said opening the door but keeping herself from stepping in. “Supper is ready and we all would love it if you would join us?”

Merlin smiled and stood up, “Of course, I would be honored,” he smiled and turned off the small lamp before leaving the room and entering the hall with Mother Elizabeth.

“Your friend’s are already in the dining hall waiting for us.”

“I must compliment your hospitality Mother. It is not often I have come across such acceptance from people.”

“We are only acting as God would want us to act, Mr. Emrys,” She smiled genuinely. “The world has lost the true meaning of what the meaning is behind the Word. If you take out all of the God and supernatural aspect, you are left with an allegorical text that simply wanted to change how the world worked. Bring peace and unity and kindness back; that’s what the book is about, thats what any faith is about, with or without God or Gods.”

“Even though your book says to stone women and kill homosexuals?”

“No book is perfect, Mr. Emrys,” she smiled. “God did have man write the book, and he cannot change how they felt,” she opened the door to the dining hall and said no more on the subject. Neither did Merlin.

He sat by Percy and a younger nun who did not speak, sister Serah saying it was a vow of silence. Merlin respected that.

“For dinner tonight we are serving Spaghetti,” Mother Elizabeth said being the only one standing.

She winked at Merlin when two other nuns brought our covered plates, the smell of blood filling Merlin’s nose before the plates left the kitchen. Percy looked at Gawaine and then looked back at Merlin who all were shocked. The plate covers had names on them and they were placed in front of their respected persons.

Mother Elizabeth prayed over the meal, everyone holding hands and bowing, and then they began to eat, the three vampires shocked at having blood sauce. Merlin was going to ask Mother Elizabeth how she knew, but for the time being, he talked with the nuns, laughing and joking with them, listening to how they became a nun, their journey to the faith. The most surprising story was a woman in her sixties who was a heroin addict. She had over dossed for the sixth time, but the last time she knew she was going to die. She was terrified as she laid in the streets, no one helping her, until a woman knelt beside her. They held hands and the woman began to prey. She didn’t remember anything, not even the woman’s face, or what happened afterwards, but when she woke up, alive in the hospital, she knew she was going to become a nun. She wanted to help young women and men that were struggling with drugs. And she did. She went to the local prisons and homeless shelters and anywhere she knew an addict would be and she would talk to them. She said, “Telling an addict they are an addict and that they need help will never save an addict. The addict needs to want to be saved.” So she would just talk with them.

She would tell them her story and about God, but she would never tell them to stop what they were doing or that they were wrong. “They know what they are doing is wrong, but their will is so little they don’t care. They gave up when they tried the drug. They just need a friend. Someone who understands and doesn’t judge them. See, we were not placed on the Earth to judge people; we don’t have the right or the power to judge someone, only God does. We were put on the earth to teach, to learn, to experience. Not to judge. And I don’t.”

Merlin was so enthralled with everyone’s stories and the peaceful dinner that he had lost track of time, even the fact he had finished his plate and that most of the nuns had already left the dinner table; even Lance, Guin, Percy, and Gawaine were gone.

When sister Catherine, the once heroin addict had to leave, Merlin realized it was just him and Mother Elizabeth. He did not mind all that much. It gave him a chance to talk with her in a relative privacy. “Everyone here is so remarkable,” Merlin said, taking his plate to the kitchen as Mother Elizabeth began to was them. Merlin helped her and dried the dishes. “Even the stories that had no action, the women who always knew they wanted to be a nun, a person a faith.”

“Everyone has their purpose and their own personal beauty and gifts. Some take longer to see that and some need no time. Everyone is important and special in their own way,” she said slipping her hands into the murky water of the sink.

“Even those of us who were born different? Too different for the world to understand? Too different to be seen none other than ‘evil’, a ‘demon’?” Merlin asked taking the plate from her offering fingers.

“Are you referring to your love for men or your vampirism?”

“Both, I think,” he said honestly, his face flushed from her honesty and fearlessness.

“People are not inherently evil, Mr. Emrys,” she said handing him another plate. “There are actions and events that shape evil people who are lost in the chaos the devil throws at them. But no one is born evil.”

“Not even your anti-Christ?”

“Not even the anti-Christ. Free will is a remarkable gift the Lord has given us. And just as God created man, He created the angels, and the devil was once an angel. He cannot force someone into doing something without their permission. He does not possess that power.”

“Then what about me?”

“What about it? You were born as you were,” she said handing Merlin a cup. “Your actions, Mr. Emrys, determine if you are an evil man or not,” she said. “Do your actions declare you an evil man?”

Merlin did not have to think about that question, he already knew the answer. He had always known the answer. “Yes, they do,” he finished drying the last cup and set it aside, along with the dish towel.

“Have you asked for forgiveness? Have you repented? Have you guilt for what you’ve done?”

“Not to your God.”

She sighed and took Merlin’s hands within hers and pulled him close, her green eyes peering into Merlin’s soul. “Not all forgiveness needs to be given from, God, Mr. Emrys.” She kissed the top of his hand. “If you seek answers to your questions as to whether you are evil or a demon, then you should know you are not. No evil man cares that he is evil. You do. And you have asked for forgiveness, and you have repented.” She kissed his palm and released his hands. “Now, we need to get ready to see the choir tonight,” she smiled. “Thank you for the help with the dishes.”

“Of course,” he smiled and followed her from the kitchen. “Hey, one more question?”

“Ask away, dear.”

“How did you know?”

“Some gifts are to be able to see people in their true forms, in their purest of ways; their true selves.” She smiled, and turned from him and finally disappeared through a door that said “Nun Corridor”.


The Church was completely dark but for the two candles that sat on the corners of the alter, and a few on the steps leading up to it. The nuns were all quiet, most having their heads down in prayer, others letting rosary beads slip through their fingers a they said a few Hail Mary’s quietly to themselves. There were two priests who must have come with the Choir, the two men seated next to each other in the front pew, whispering to each other about something Merlin did not care to overhear.

Merlin sat right behind Mother Elizabeth, her head bowed in prayer as she was kneeling towards the mighty wooden crucifix hanging above the alter, basking in the glow from the candles on the table beneath it.

After a short wait, one of the Priests rose from his seat and stood at the podium, just to the side of the pews, keeping out of the way of those who sat in the crowd. After he rose, organized lines of boys began to come from the side doors of the stage near the alter. There were only two rows, the boys not lined up by height, but by the tune of their voice. The line in the back had a row of ten boys, while in the front there were six, all wearing white robes and holding a burning candle in their hands.

After a few minutes of silence, the priest who was standing moved his baton and the boys began to sing.

It was ethereal.

They sang a song Merlin was familiar with, one by Gregorio Allegri: Miserere mei, Deus. And it was beautiful. Merlin did not blink or think of anything but the sound of their harmonious tunes filling not only his ears but every sense in his body. He was lost in the music and even after it stopped he was lost in the memory of it, the memory echoing in his ears. He shut his eyes to let his mind play it on repeat, the words filling him with sadness and hope.

He was in a trance until he felt fingers brush his arm, forcing his eyes open. “It is time for us to slumber, Mr. Emrys,” Mother Elizabeth said with a soft smile.

“Thank you, Mother,” he smiled back. “Could I stay a bit longer?”

“As long as you blow out the candles,” she nodded and was gone.

Then Merlin prayed. For the first time, ever, Merlin thought, he prayed.

He was looking for hope. Hope that everything in the coming future would work out and that he and Arthur would not have to run. He wanted piece. He wanted hope for that peace. Part of him mostly wanted a promise of that peace, of a happily ever after. So he prayed.





Chapter Text

There was a warm, pungent, wind that whipped Merlin in the face like a whip. It stung, as though a hive of angry bees were striking his face with an instinctual rage to protect their queen. The familiar sound that came with the swarm was not to be heard. He couldn’t really hear, anyway. He peeked his eyes open, the blurry face of a familiar man standing a distance away from him, the florescent lights glaring into his pupils.

It hurt, it was more than hurt, it was painful. “Tell me, creature, how much longer do you think you can last like this? In here?”

Merlin said nothing. “So stoic, like a dog,” he hissed holding up a large nail, one large enough to hold down the tracks of railroads. “We will see how stoic you are when there is no one here to hold up your cross,” his grin reminded Merlin of the Joker from Batman, though it was not pain or scares that forced the corners of his lips to the edges of his cheeks.

Merlin help his breath as the man approached, knowing what was to come next. He closed his eyes, completely again, letting his head fall further between his shoulders. He winced when he felt the firm grip of the man, his rough palms scratching at his skin like the papillae from the tongue of a cat. He unlocked the harsh, steel spikes that restrained Merlin’s wrist, his body limply falling to the side, the chains above singing in delight.

The man again harshly grabbed the mauled flesh, pinning it to the wall behind Merlin. He was expecting the familiar cold harshness of the wall, but it was not cold. It was smooth, yet rough, like wood, because it was wood. He lifted his head, the action sending writhing pain throughout his spine. He only got a glimpse before he became faint.

It was wood, and from what he gathered, it was a cross. Not very large as the room was only so big, but large enough for his body to fit against it neatly. “I am going to crucify you, creature,” the man broke Merlin’s racing thoughts.

“N-,” he tried to protest, but words failed him, his body was failing him.

The man only smirked and with one swift motion, slammed the nail through the palm of Merlin's hand. It did not make it far with his bare hand alone, but it excited the main enough, the echo of the cracking and breaking of bone and tendons and Merlin's painful cry rang in the room. Merlin smelled the familiar scent of his own blood, the cold liquid dripping down his wrist and onto the floor.

The man dug the nail further into Merlin’s hand, twisting it slowly. “Hmm,” the man was in thought, most likely in vein and as a ploy. “Maybe,” he began, adding the slightest bit of pressure, “just a little more pressure, and it’ll go through,” he smirked, adding more force to his twisting of the nail.

It took nearly three hours for each nail to be placed through Merlin’s palms and then his feet. He didn’t remember much, his mind in and out of darkness. But he remembered what he looked like once the man had his back to him, writing on his little notepad. Merlin had enough strength to look up in the one-sided window, his reflection only a vague, blurry outline of something poorly resembling a human body. For the first time in, god knows how long, he cried, the unfamiliar stream of salt running down his cheek and onto his lips, the river of lava tinging his skin leaving nothing behind in its wake.



Merlin jumped up, sweating, having been startled from his sleep by his phone, the buzzing sound against his wooden night stand loud and obnoxious. He squinted at the brightness of the light but pushed through it as he picked it up. Arthur was calling him.

“Hey,” Arthur said, soft and inviting.

“Hey,” Merlin replied, running a hand through his wet hair, before letting his arms rest on his raised knees.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was…” he paused, unable to really find the words he was looking for, “I’m sorry, Merlin.”

“Tell me how your day was? I want to fall asleep to your voice,” Merlin said laying back down, setting his phone between his head and the pillow beneath.

Merlin didn’t pay too much attention to what Arthur was saying. He was feeling guilty and sorry. Him and Arthur, they were bonded, and it was extraordinary. But, they shared nightmares now, Arthur seeing, feeling, everything Merlin dreamt, and his only dreams were nightmare of his torture. Merlin would wake with nose bleeds, his body remembering the pain of what was done to him. He rubbed the palm of one of his hands, wincing at his touch as though the nails were still in there.

I love you, Merlin,” the words broke Merlin free from his tortured thoughts.

“I know, I know,” Merlin replied, a tear falling down his cheek. “I’m tired of being so broken,” he said honestly.

“I love you, no matter how broken you are, no matter what you did, what you will do you, I love you. You’re not broken to me,” Merlin could feel his warm smile through the phone. “I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise.”

“I love you too, Arthur.”


“Gawain, don’t be a dick,” Guin remarked which rewarded her with a smack to the back of her head by Mother Elizabeth.

“Watch your tongue in my home,” she scolded as she gathered up their breakfast plates.

“Sorry,” her face reminded Merlin of that face a dog makes when they know they’ve done wrong, their tail tucked between their legs, their ears pinned back and their heads low. “But he was,” she defended.

“Are you being mean to my fiancé, Gawain?” Lance glared as he walked into the dining hall, his attention on the iPad he held in his firm hands. “I give her permission to kill you,” he smiled before placing a kiss on Guin’s forehead.

“Sorry, sorry,” he rose his hands in defeat, leaning his chair on two legs as the group congregated.

“You gunna’ tell him?” Lance asked as he sat with a cup of coffee, resting his free hand on Guin’s thigh.

Gawain huffed and rested his chair back on all four legs. “We received word from the Covens. They have found Aithusa.”


“They have found her, in some remote part of the world. They have asked for her assistance.” Gawain leaned forward, resting his hands on the table, “Morgana is to study under her,” he finished.

Merlin’s jaw clenched. He could not believe it, not really. After so many years, he though she had died. It was a fruitless thought, however. Merlin understood why she was not dead, they shared blood. She was a dragon, a real dragon. After hundreds of years of persecution, the last of them came together to become those known as Skin Walkers, shape shifters.

Merlin sought Aithusa’s help a long time ago, in an attempt to find out where he was from. Merlin had vague memories, but non-from when his was younger the 18. He didn’t know why. They were only able to come to the conclusion that he has dragon blood in him, which is why he has some magical abilities, but that was all. Then they parted way.

“You’ve got be bloody-fucking kidding me, right?” Merlin asked.

Gawain shook his head.

Then, as though a light bulb went off in his head, Merlin remembered something. He remembered a dream he had, the one before he had woken up. Kilgharrah.

“Kilgharrah,” Merlin mumbled, “That where we need to go next.”

“What?” Lance asked, a confused expression on his face.

“We need to find our own dragon,” Merlin laughed, unable to believe how much a twit he had been.

“And do you suppose we find this dragon?” Gawain remarked.

“We don’t go to him, I bring him to us.” Merlin smiled, happy, and relieved he was actually able to come up with something better than running every few months, new homes, new identities. “But we can’t do it here, we need to go the desert,” he said.

“Great. We’re going to find a dragon, in the desert. What better place for a group of vampires on the run.” Lance stated.

“What’s all of this talk about dragons, I hear?” said a voice from behind Merlin.

Merlin quickly swung his head around, his eyes meeting that of his lovers as he stood, a firm shoulder leaned against the archway.

Arthur smiled, a flutter filing both his and Merlin’s stomach. Merlin jumped from up from his chair, the wooden legs screaming against the stone floor beneath. Merlin was holding Arthur in an embrace before one could take a breath.

Merlin had Arthur by the back of the neck and placed their lips firmly together before any words could be said. Arthur giggled softly, overwhelmed with excitement and happiness. “I missed you,” Merlin whispered.

“I missed you too,” Arthur replied.

“Okay you two,” Mother Elizabeth said walking by the two boys.

Merlin grinned awkwardly. “Sorry,” Mother Elizabeth waved her hands at them and sat down in the chair Merlin once claimed as his.

“I have a book for you,” she began. “I think it might help with your dragon problem,” she placed an old leather-bound book on the table with a thud.

“You are just full of surprises,” Merlin smiled guiding himself and Arthur to empty chairs next to Guin and Lance.

“Quite,” she remarked. “We’ve had some old text from the Celtics and druids from the old times, some texts from Vikings. This is one of those texts. It’s Viking in origin, but we haven’t been able to translate much of it.”

Merlin slid the book and opened a page, an almost-laugh escaping his lips. “Because it’s not Old Norse. It’s written in the tongues of the Dragon Keepers and Priestess.”

“What?” Gawain asked.

Merlin looked at him, rolling his eyes, “Once the Dragons became shapeshifters, to hide, they entrusted certain people to contain their knowledge, their lore, so as they would not be forgotten. Some of those people were druids, others were the highest honorable women and men of various Viking tribes, some Native Americans, even a few vampires,” he began. “Mordred,” Merlin hissed, “bears the tattoo, on the inside of his finger.”

“What?” Arthur questioned.

“It’s…” Merlin was unsure how to explain it, “You don’t notice it without having the knowledge, or gifts to see it. It is a mark that basically represents the old order of Dragon Keepers. Two Dragons intertwined, a sword down the middle, and around the dragons, their fire encompasses them with the symbol that roughly translates to library.”

“That’s…” Arthur was stunned, “Why could I not see it?”

“You don’t have magic, and the knowledge of them has never been bestowed upon you.”

“I feel a little jealous,” Arthur crossed his arms annoyed.

“So, how would this book actually help us in finding our dragon, exactly?” Guin asked.

“Well, I’m getting the dragon to us, but it might help us figure out a way to actually convince him to help us, and possible turn against his own kin,” Merlin said.

Mother Elizabeth slid the book back to her, and flipped the book to the center pages, portraits and lines connecting to each other, a family tree. “These are all of the living dragons left, from what we’ve deduced,” she said. “The book is a live,” she said. “The portraits shift and change, and we think that when one dies, their gold lettering that lined their names disappears, and their image fades, not completely, but they are definitely much duller than the others.”

“The book is what?” Gawain said, sliding backwards a little. “That’s…weird.”

“Old Magic,” Merlin smiled. “Do you have any other’s like this?”

“Hmm, I can go check and see, but I’m sure we have a few,” she said before standing to leave, asking the help of another nun before she left.

“Well, shit is getting real,” Gawain said, right before receiving a loud thwak! from Guin for cursing.



Chapter Text

Merlin heard a soft knock at his door, the tapping so soft, he could hardly discern it from his own heartbeat. “Yes?” he lifted his head, a few stray strands of hair falling down his face.

The door softly opened, in stepping Arthur, his own disheveled head of hair comical, his bare chest rising and falling, muscles tightening as he strode to the bed. His pajama pants were almost laughable, the blue fabric loose, a beaver with his hands on its hips as it proclaimed, “I’m sleeping Dammit”.

Merlin moved closer to wall, lifting the covers as Arthur slipped in. “I can’t sleep,” Arthur said softly, nestling against Merlin, his butt against Merlin’s crotch, Merlin’s arms encompassing him, forcing their bodies closer.

“So, dragons, huh?” Arthur asked, his thumb rubbing Merlin’s forearm.

“Indeed,” Merlin said, kissing the back of Arthur’s head. “A bit fairytale, no?” Merlin smirked.

“It’s almost too unreal, to be honest. If I had not grown up how I did, I would think all of you were bat.”

“We are all a little mad,” Merlin giggled, shifting down a little, kissing the back of Arthur’s neck.

“What are you doing?” Arthur questioned, though rhetorically.

Merlin shrugged, “Helping you sleep,” Merlin smiled after giving another kiss to the back of Arthur’s neck.

Arthur shivered as Merlin’s hands began to become familiar with his body again, first staring at his hands, then forearm, bicep, and so forth. Merlin felt a little guilty, having sworn to not do anything to disrespect the home they were in, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted, needed, comfort, and he knew Arthur did too. He needed to know Arthur was still here, despite everything they had been through.

Arthur released a soft gasp when Merlin slid his hand into his pajama pants, sliding his nails up his thigh before kneading at his crotch. His fingers worked slowly over the area, bringing it life like rain to grass. Merlin playfully nipped that back of Arthur’s neck, while his hand began to gyrate faster, Arthur’s cock growing in his firm palm.

Arthur moved his hips slowly, his head spinning with pleasure and the feel of his lover’s hand on his cock, working the member slow and teasingly. “Merlin,” he said breathlessly.

Merlin began to move his hand faster, Arthur clutching the pillow with his teeth to keep from moaning. Oh, but Merlin wished he could hear him moan his name. Merlin removed his hand, Arthur protesting. Merlin slid underneath the covers and forcibly pushing Arthur onto his back, while Merlin slid between his legs. The twin bed screeched at the shift of wait, but soon quieted down once Merlin positioned himself comfortably. Arthur tossed the blanket back, showing Merlin’s head as he kissed Arthur’s thigh through his pants.

Arthur bit his bottom lip as he watched Merlin slowly start to pull the fabric from his hips, kissing the skin where the fabric once lay. It didn’t take long for Arthur to be completely void of the pants, Merlin tossing them to the floor. Merlin ran his hand under Arthur’s leg, lifting it up under his knee, kissing the innermost portion of his thigh before reaching his cock. Merlin looked up at Arthur, his face flush, his blue eyes brighter than the sea at the brightest time of day.

He was a God, and Merlin felt like a peasant under his gaze. It was addictive, and Merlin never wanted to be clean. Merlin took in Arthur’s most intimate scent, breathing him in before kissing the base of his cock. He watched as Arthur closed his eyes, his cheeks becoming flush with lust. Merlin could see the anticipation, the want on Arthur’s face, and he would give it to him.

Merlin gave the base of Arthur’s cock one more kiss before he licked it from the base to the tip, a soft sigh escaping Arthur’s lips as he did. Merlin took the tip into mouth and sucked softly, slowly sliding more of him into his mouth, tasting all of Arthur with the slow consuming sucking. Merlin could feel the sheets near him tighten and slide from him, Arthur’s fist having gripped the sheets tightly as Merlin was methodical with his mouth.

Merlin took all of Arthur in, his cock at the back of his throat, his throat pulsing and sucking on its own. Arthur groaned out, a pleasured sound that sent chills down Merlin’s spine. Merlin began to move again, up and down, still slow and languish. Arthur attempted to buck his hips from the bed, he wanted more speed, but Merlin was swift at forcing his hips against the bed, his firm hands on his waist. Arthur groaned, defiant at Merlin’s wishes. Merlin popped Arthur’s cock from his mouth, and looked up, moving a hand to grip and ride Arthur’s cock, replacing his mouth. “Shhh, you need to be quiet,” Merlin scolded him.

Arthur huffed, “Why do I feel like a school boy getting head in the back of a stairwell,” Arthur said, looking at Merlin, still flushed and overcome with pleasure.

Merlin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile when he moved his head back in between Arthur’s legs and down, letting his tongue graze his most intimate area, Arthur letting out a soft curse when he did.

Merlin let his hand stay on Arthur’s cock, still languish movements, up and down, while his tongue slid from Arthur’s perineum to his anus, tasting all of Arthur. “Fuuck, that tongue,” Arthur moaned.

Merlin smiled again and moved back up to his cock. Without warning, he took all of his cock down to the base, and stayed there, smelling him. Arthur moved his hands to the back of Merlin’s head, gripping his hair tightly. Merlin looked up and cocked an eyebrow before Arthur forced his head up, and then back down again. Merlin moaned at the force of his hands, pleasure filling his own cock as Arthur forced his head up and down on him.

Arthur kept doing it, forcing Merlin’s mouth to fuck his cock at his own pace. Merlin’s eyes began to water, but he enjoyed every second of it, the feel of Arthur’s hands on him, the tug of his hair in his fingertips. As Arthur was using Merlin’s mouth, Merlin decided to move his hand from Arthur’s hip, and slid it in between his legs, and teased his anus. The act of Merlin no longer holding his hips allowed Arthur to buck his hips up as Merlin reached his anus, the pleasure too much for Arthur to contain.

“Fuck, Merlin” Arthur moaned out again. And Merlin new, the increased pulsing of Arthur’s cock, the quickening motion of him being forced on his cock, that he was close.

Merlin wanted the control back in his court, so he placed both hands at either side of Arthur and forced himself up and off Arthur’s cock. Arthur didn’t seem to mind as he pulled Merlin up and into a passionate kiss, their tongues entwinning, searching, tasting each other again. It was like they had never kissed before, the world around them disappearing into nothing; no sound, no smell, no taste other their own. The world could have ended, and they would not have known.

They stopped kissing, both a little breathless, their eyes glued to one another. With words unsaid, Merlin knew. Merlin slid his fingers in Arthur’s mouth, letting Arthur suck on his fingers and make them wet with his saliva. Once Merlin thought it was sufficient enough, he moved his hand back to Arthur’s anus, teasing him once again before slipping a finger in. Arthur moaned, mouth agape and delicious. Merlin couldn’t help but lean down and fill the agape mouth with his own, Arthur wrapping his hands around Merlin’s head and neck, letting his fingers slide up the back of Merlin’s skull.

Merlin couldn’t wait any longer. In one swift motion, he placed his cock at the entrance to Arthur’s anus and slid it in slowly, letting Arthur become used to the feel of Merlin in him. Merlin slid his cock all the way in, and waiting, as he feared if he moved, it would be over too soon.

Arthur protested, wiggling his hips. Merlin was the next to moan, his head falling to Arthur’s side, his fist gripping the pillow beneath Arthur’s head. Merlin lost it.

With a low growl, Merlin began to thrust, hard and fast, in and out of Arthur. Arthur tossed his head further back into the pillow, while Merlin fucked him. Merlin bit at the flesh of Arthur’s shoulder, letting his skin break the surface. Like water breaking free from a dam, blood filled Merlin’s mouth while he ravished Arthur.

Merlin had to cup a hand over Arthur’s mouth to keep him quiet, the low, guttural moans from him vibrating Merlin’s hand. “Fuck,” Merlin cursed. He was close, and so was Arthur, his erect cock pressed against Merlin’s lower abdomen pulsated against is flesh.

“Come in me, Merlin,” Arthur whispered, “Please, I want you,” he said.

Merlin couldn’t hold back any longer, and with a few more rough and quick thrusts, he burst, releasing all of himself in Arthur. Merlin kept thrusting in and out, despite having just come. He was still caught up in the feel of Arthur tight around his cock. It wasn’t until Arthur arched his back and released his cum on himself and Merlin’s abdomen, that Merlin finally stopped, and collapsed on Arthur, their chests rising and falling in tune, their heavy pants filling the space between them.

Sweat glistened off their skin with the low glow of the moonlight in the window. IN that moment, Merlin had never felt so in love before. He truly loved the creature beneath him, more than words were able to describe. “I love you too,” Arthur said breaking the sounds of their pants.

Merlin cupped Arthur’s jaw and smiled, “I know,” he placed a soft kiss on his lips before pulling himself out and positioning beside Arthur. “I’ll be right back, I need to clean up,” Merlin nodded, his eyes heavy with sleep now.

Merlin was cold when Arthur left, the bed shifting at the sudden weight change. He watched as Arthur snuck from the room, his bare ass wiggling as he sprinted down the hall and back in moments. He held a towel in his hand and tossed it to Merlin, “You’re cleaning me,” he said, very snarky and prat-like.

Merlin rolled his eyes and waiting for Arthur to lay back down, his stomach on the bed, his ass in the air.

Merlin slowly started to wipe the mess from his abdomen before moving to Arthur’s butt. “It is nice of the nuns to let us stay here,” Arthur said, filling their silence.

“Indeed it is, and that Mother Elizabeth is a rare creature,” Merlin remarked having finished cleaning them both.

He tossed the towel across the room and laid next Arthur, spooning him.  “Good night, my love,” Merlin said.

“Good night, Merlin.”

It was almost as if fate had spoken as they both jumped when there was a knock at the door.

Merlin glared at the door, annoyed and checked his phone, it was four in the morning. Merlin quickly got up and slid his pants on. Another knock.

“Jesus, I’m coming you twat,” Merlin said.

It was Percy, Merlin knew it before he knocked, but he had hoped he was just walking by. He wasn’t. Merlin opened the door, “Yes?”

Percy didn’t look at Merlin but passed him and at Arthur who still laid on his. “Arthur, it’s your father,” he said. “You need to go to Camelot immediately.”


Chapter Text

The plane ride was quiet, the tension filling everyone’s silence, forcing their mouths to stay closed, though none of them really wanted to say anything; even if they wanted to, they wouldn’t know what to say. All of them: Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine, Guin, Percy, Lance, everyone, could be going into a trap. And if its not a trap…then the end of an era was closing in on them, the walls of the world they new crumbling in the blink of an eye.

Merlin could only grasp the blonde’s boy’s hand as they sat. Arthur’s blue eyes were focused on the clouds that floated below them, the farming landscape peeking through beneath. Merlin hadn’t seen Arthur’s eyes for a so long it seemed; he didn’t know what he was feeling, but he wanted to, he wanted to help. He wanted to make him feel better or forget about the burning flames in his head.

“Here you go,” Guin said, startling Merlin as she reached down to hand Merlin a steaming cup of fresh blood. Well, as fresh as bagged blood could be. “We’re about to land,” she placed a comforting hand on Merlin’s shoulder before turning away, making her way back to the seat next to her fiancé.

They were on the jet for another fifteen minutes before they landed as there some air traffic when they arrived at the strip. As soon as they landed though, everyone started to grab their bags from the overhead storage and they spilled out, one by one, like a line of ants following one another to food, leaving Merlin and Arthur in the same place they’d been for the last two hours. Merlin didn’t say anything. He knew he shouldn’t. So, there they sat, in silence, Merlin gripping Arthur’s hand as his eyes looked off into the distance.

“I don’t want you there,” Arthur said, piercing their silence like he was swinging a sword.

Merlin nodded though he knew Arthur could not see him. He understood. “As you wish, Arthur.”

Without warning, or even notion, Merlin’s ears were filled with the sound of broken glass shattering, a few stray shards cutting into his cheek. Arthur’s blood filled Merlin’s nose, the insatiable smell arousing hunger in his stomach.

“Arthur!” Merlin yelled, standing and pulling his trembling fist from the window, now gone and broken.

Arthur’s body trembled, a silent cry falling through his lips. “Oh, Arthur,” Merlin said, pulling Arthur’s bloodied fist to his lips.

He placed a loving kiss on the knuckles before embracing Arthur, letting the boy sob into him.

Arthur did not deserve this.


The wind bit at Arthur’s skin like a puppy without manners. Snow blanketed the ground, covering up any evidence of life. Arthur stood on the sidewalk, just out front of the iron gates which lead to his home, though it wasn’t really his home, not anymore.

He would go in, eventually. It would not be the same, not after everything that has happened the last few years. There came a point in his recent years that he was no longer welcome here, at the place of his birth. He wondered what it looked like on the inside now. He wondered if the spiral staircase still held the artwork from his sister when she was two or three, scribbles of all colors and shapes that made no real form or shape. Or if the stairs still held impressions from his cleats as he used to run up and down despite his father’s persistent ‘no’s’. The memories left a hole in Arthur’s chest; it was sad.

Eventually, Arthur found himself inside, wandering the hallways, once filled with laughter and smiles. “I wonder if Morgana knows,” he thought allowed.

As Arthur walked, the smell of blood made its way into him and like a blood hound on a scent. He knew what it was from and he knew where it was, but he still let the scent guide him up the stairs. He stopped once he reached the fourth floor, hesitating to go any further. The fourth floor was always just his fathers, always the forbidden place in the home. He had only been allowed up there on a few occasions, one of them being when his mother died. Arthur didn’t remember the other time, but it didn’t matter now. Arthur to wonder the unfamiliar floor, looking over the seemingly new furniture and walls. As a child, he did not pay close to the details of the floor. He hadn’t noticed the large bookcases that lined the first room, a small couch and liquor cabinet in a corner of the room. There was a TV, but no remote. An odd detail for him to notice, but he did.

The walls were a tan color, and the floors were a wood, bamboo most likely. Off to the side of the first room was a bathroom, and then across from there was an office of sorts. There was a large desk with a computer and chair and the walls were red this time. There were no paintings, no pictures, nothing to say someone had a family or cared. That was the source of the blood.

Arthur looked and though the stain was gone, he knew where it had happened.

The ringing of his cell phone startled him, “Hello?”

“Hello? Hi, yes, this is Andrew, with Camelot Funeral Homes,” the man paused. “I am so sorry for your loss, I know how difficult it can be,” Arthur could hear the man lick his lips. “We received an inquiry about our…less conventional services we provide here,” he stated.

Arthur knew what he meant, but he did not want to discuss it, not now. He was still trying to figure everything out. How it happened, the who and the why. It was all too much for him to handle. In a spout of uncontrollable rage, Arthur threw his phone into the wall, shattering it across the floor once it hit. His yell could be heard from outside, he knew this by the flock of crows that flew away from a tree outside of the window.

He fell to his knees and cried.

Despite everything that had happened to him, his vampirism, Merlin, running, he still loved his father. HE didn’t realize it, not until now. Strange how death can make people remember those things. He looked back at the laughter and smiled. Uther used to read to Arthur, stories unfit for normal children, but Arthur didn’t care. He’d sit on his lap, the smell of whiskey in the air and his father would read. He would wear his glasses down the bridge of his nose, so anytime Arthur had a question, Uther can explain it to him whilst also being able to see him.  

He taught Morgana and him to ride and shoot. Uther was always there to help Arthur when he was down on himself, even when his mother died. Uther was a great father, but an awful dad.

“Do you remember when he started our training?” A voice said from behind Arthur.

He knew who it was, but he did not say anything, he lacked the energy.

“He told us ‘The monsters beneath your bed are not real, children. They live among us. That is why we are here – to keep all of the little boys and girls safe from monsters’. Ironic the thing we were taught to hunt and kill are the things we ended up becoming,” she exclaimed.

“You, dear sister, are the monster,” Arthur said. “That is you, not me.”

“Is it not? You need to survive on the humans you once were, you rely on them. Instead of being their protector, their Prince of Shadow, you are now their Prince of Darkness, and what a cruel prince you have become.”

Morgana was pinned against the bare wall behind her, too quick for her to react. “I am not!” he spat, his fist gripping around her throat.

If she were human he would leave a mark, “Look at yourself,” she laughed. “Exactly what father would have hunted and killed. Too bad he’s dead,” she smirked.

Arthur did not remember what happened next, his eyes went red, the pounding in his heart drowning out any consciousness he had left.


“Are you sure, Arthur?”

“How would she have known?”

“Everyone knows, its all over! The news, the papers, social media. Everyone knows.”

“You were not there! The way she said it…she had a part it in his death,” Arthur yelled, his fists going white.

The man before him took a single step and was across the room, face to face with the boy in front of him. “I am your elder, child,” them man snapped. “Do speak to me as though I were less,” Lance looked Arthur in the eyes as though he were a stranger.

“Enough, the both of you.” Merlin stepped into the room, two cups in his hand, steam waving to the ceiling. “Lance, he is your friend, you should do him the respect of not treating him any less.” Merlin could see the pride on Arthur’s face, as though he had won the battle. “Arthur,” Merlin snapped.

“Lance, please step out,” Merlin set the two cups down on a nearby desk.

He was calm and relaxed with his tone and words. He wanted to defuse the situation before he got any worse. Arthur was angry and mourning the loss of his father while Lance was blaming Arthur for ruining his wedding. Merlin wanted to gag. It was like two alpha wolves battling over who was the actual top dog.

Once Lance was gone, Merlin leaned against the desk, his fists gripping the mahogany edge fiercely “Arthur, enough of this,” he said calmly.

“Enough of what?”

“Your acting like a child,” Merlin growled. “Do not take your grief out on the only people trying to help. It is unfair and cruel.”

“No one believes me!” the threat of tears could be seen in Arthur’s eyes. “I know what I heard, and my gut is telling me there is something more to this.”

“Arthur, we believe you, we all believe you. But, we do not yet have the proper evidence to convince it was your sister,” Merlin shook his head. “People have been trying to rid this world of your fathers for years, we cannot just assume it was her without first proving it was not anyone else.”

“Do you not have any faith in me?” Arthur’s accusatory tone bit at Merlin like a snake.

“How dare you,” Merlin again shook his head. “I have been at your side despite everything,” Merlin rose from the desk and aggressively approached his mate. “Do not ever question me again as though my loyalty is the one to be concerned about,” Merlin’s eyes flashed a color Arthur had never seen before.

Arthur had never seen Merlin angry, his instincts telling him to turn and run away. But he didn’t, he just took a step backwards. Merlin was not angry, he was hurt. He couldn’t believe how selfish the boy in front of him was being. It could be due to the privilege the boy had grown up with, but even then, it gave him no right. Merlin could have left, he could have abandoned the boy he loved for his actions when he came back. But would that then make him a hypocrite? Merlin went bad when he came back, but three years, three fucking years of torture and starvation…this was different. This was much different.  

“I know you are grieving, Arthur. I understand that loss can change a person,” Merlin continued forward, his eyes flashing that unimaginable color. “But it does not give you a right to take it out on the people around you. That is no excuse and it is selfish and cruel,” Merlin stopped walking now.

He sighed and just shook his head, watching Arthur look at him with a clenched jaw. “Once you have figured your shit out, let me know. Until then, you are on your own,” Merlin chocked back tears, not wanting to let the child beneath him see how fragile and broken he really was. And then he stormed off.

“Wait, Merlin!” He could hear the echo running after him as he walked down the corridor, but he did not turn back. This was Arthur’s war now; he was going to have to grow up and learn how to fight it himself.




Chapter Text


“I don’t care how you do it, just fucking do it,” Arthur growled before slamming the phone down.

“Any luck?” Gwaine asked ducking his head down as he entered the office, fearing that a heavy, painful object would be thrown at him.

“What do you think?” Arthur snapped, thankfully not throwing anything at the man who entered.

“Right,” Gwaine looked away. “And your sister?”

Arthur’s fist clenched, and Gwaine swore he could hear the crackling of bones like an excited fire in the night. “Not a damn thing, bloody coward,” Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose before sitting, though slouched, in the chair that he once called his fathers.

They were in the building that was once used as the world headquarters for the Blood Hunters, now formally called the Knights. It now serves as a parliament of sorts, one to help keep peace between man and beast. They help police the human world, while also jailing or killing defectors, vampires and humans alike, who disapprove of the new world order. Everything only took about a week after his father’s death, an incredibly fast process to Arthur’s surprise. Once the covens were made aware of it, Uther’s death, Arthur approached them and by the seventh day, there were new laws. Laws that were carved in stone by the surviving druids, telling all who could read how things would be now. It was worldwide: America, Russia, distant Islands, everywhere. They all took the transition quite well, even places Arthur was sure would completely break from the Covens like Russia and the Arab countries which ended up being the most excepting of the change.

The stone slabs, once finished and written, were placed in the Knights building. They were the first thing to be seen when entering the skyscraper. The grey stone shinning in the sunlight as though it were home to thousands of lightning bugs, each flashing for one another. The stone gave the white marble floor and equally white walls an appealing flare of grey and ancient, though TV’s and large windows allowed the modern world to peek inside. The laws, of course, were not a language any human could read. It was an old, dead language, a tongue of gods some told Arthur. Stories, now decrepit and locked away, told tales of the language, stating that even angels could not read it, but Arthur was not too certain the legitimacy of them. Nevertheless, new laws had been written, and Arthur…well, Arthur was now seen as a king. He smirked at the thought, “A king.” A tremble overcame his body as the worlds spilled over his lips.

“What was that?” Gwaine asked, looking over the man in front of him.

“Nothing,” Arthur sat up in his chair and faced the man before him, checking his phone briefly, but as expected, there was nothing of interest on the screen.

He could hear Gwaine lean forward, “Don’t worry, Arthur, he will come back,” the man said softly, so soft, Arthur thought it was the man’s attempt to not spook him like he was some wild animal.

“And you’re so sure about that?” Arthur questioned, his tone even and without feeling.

“I am.”

“How can you be so certain?”

Gwaine opened his mouth, like he was going to respond, but he must have decided against it as he simply licked the dry canvass of his lips and closed his mouth, having said nothing. Arthur had never felt so alone, not like this at least. It was going on week two without seeing his mate, and he ached for him. No contact, no touch, no smell. Merlin could have faded from existence and Arthur would not have known. How cruel the world was, to have two mates dance around a flame for an eternity, torn from being scorched or burned. It was always going to be that way, Arthur thought: the two men reaching out for each other but then getting engulfed by the flame. One day, Arthur feared, the flame would take everything. He feared that day had come to pass, and that Merlin was all but ash at the bottom of the pit.


Arthur looked at his desk, a locked drawer with a key still in the keyhole, old warn leather dangling down. Arthur placed his head in his hands and closed his eyes, his fingers running through the ends of his scalp as he released a heavy breath that shook the key in its place. All Arthur had left of Merlin was a letter he sent. He didn’t open it, he just hid it away in the drawer over a week ago, letting it fade from his mind. It didn’t. The unopened letter haunted him, whispering daunting words in his ears about how his soul was not worth the fight any longer. He was not worth the sleepless nights and the bloodshed, the words told him. He was sure that was what the letter would say, almost certain of it.

 “Leave me,” he told Gwaine after the long silence he let encompass the room. The man did not argue, he just left, shutting the large office doors behind him.

“S'pose now or never,” Arthur sighed and reached down, unlocked the drawer, and proceeded to pull out a letter, the envelope made of a fabric type of parchment he had never seen or felt before; it was addressed to ‘My Beloved’. Arthur pulled the letter up to his nose – he could smell him on it, his skin, his breath…the intoxicating scent sending a stream of tears down his dry face.

My Prince,

Please do not hold any hate for me in your heart. I know what I am doing is no better than what I accused you for mere days ago. But this is different - I do hope you understand that. I am doing this to help, but in order for me to help, I must go to a place with a far greater danger than the one at your feet. For that reason, it is a place that I cannot take you, as I could not bear the loss of losing you. I do not know how long I will be gone but know that I am with you always. Should you decide to, think of me as I am of you, every second I am away. Think of me before you sleep, and I will be there with you, in a better place, far less cruel than the world now.

I must urge and beg of you to not find me. There are things at home you must be present for – you’re changing the world, Arthur, and if the world lost their king at such a monumental time, the world would crash and fall.

I promise to you I will return. And know, I did not leave because you. This is how I am to help. The Covens must never know my involvement for the war I fight with them is everlasting, and they would have you murdered for being at my side. Keep on your path, keep strong.

I do hope you grow and learn that you do not need anyone else to validate how great and truly magnificent you are. I believe in you, my love. I always have, and I always will.

Yours Truly,

Merlin Emrys. 

“Fuck you, Merlin,” Arthur shook his head, the sound of his tears bouncing off of the paper filling his ears. “Fuck you.”


The hallway was dark, so much so, he could not see in front of him, he could not make out the shape of his hand in front of his face. He could not make out details of the walls or the floor. He was only relying on the sound of his footsteps falling, their echo bouncing off unknown surfaces and into his ears.

As he walked, he was sure it was snowing, the soft, cold flakes, caressing his face, dampening his hair. “What is this place?” he said to the nothingness.

Then, out of the darkness, hands gripped him, one around his mouth, the other gripping the shirt at his back, and forced him harshly into what the man assumed to be a wall. The hand around his mouth hit the wall first, while a body pressed against his back, its warmth comforting and arousing. A familiar smell filled his nose and he melted. Between the crevasses of the fingers around his mouth, words spilled out, saying a familiar name, one that shook the world around the pinned man. “Merlin.”

As soon as the words were spoken, the movements slowed, the hand was removed from his mouth, while lips were tracing up the back of his neck, breathy and wet. “You were thinking of me,” Merlin said.

“I’m always thinking of you,” Arthur replied, pressing himself further against the man.

The world around them lit up, lights trailing down the corridor on either side, giving a soft glow against the two men. Merlin did not reply with words. He let his hands travel the boy beneath him, running his hands down his biceps, his chest, over his crotch and bum. Arthur moaned softly, though it was more of a whimper.

Arthur forced himself to turn around, but Merlin did not complain. Merlin cupped the man’s cheek and kissed him, deeply, their tongues and teeth clashing like lightning. “I lovey you,” Arthur said between breaths.

Merlin moaned, as though the words were all that were keeping him alive. His body visibly shook in the soft light, the tremble being felt on Arthur’s skin. Merlin trailed kisses from the boy’s lips and to his jaw, then to his neck, sucking softly. His teeth broke flesh, the tension in Arthur’s body releasing, his body going almost limp at the sensation. It was only a brief encounter of teeth and flesh before Merlin continued down Arthur body.

Down he went until he was kneeling in front of the boy, their blue eyes meeting, their soundless begging enough for Merlin to continue. He gripped Arthur’s pants and ripped them off, tossing the fabric elsewhere, while taking in the scent of his mate.

Arthur’s cock was already hard, the tip glistening in the light; it had been a long time. Merlin leaned forward and buried his face beneath Arthur’s hard shaft, his tongue tasting the exhilarating flesh. Arthur gripped Merlin’s hair, forced the man head back, and then thrust him forward, his greedy mouth already open for the cock that plunged down his throat. Arthur didn’t hold back, he didn’t want to.

It was his release, his escape, his revenge. Arthur, if he thought about it, was punishing the man beneath him, but out of sadness, not anger. And Merlin let him, he took it. His eyes were watering from the force of a cock being shoved down his throat. Merlin wanted all of the boy, all of his taste, all of his scent, he wanted it. Merlin reached a hand up to grip and rub the boys balls while his mouth was fucked senseless.

He let his other hand squeeze and grip tightly at Arthur’s ass, his eyes looking up at the throat of his mate. Arthur’s head was tossed back, sweat beading down his god like chest and abdomen. Arthur released Merlin’s head, his hands reaching for something to grip behind him as Merlin continued to suck his cock down. “Fuck me,” Merlin whimpered.

Arthur did not hesitate to answer his lover. He stood Merlin up and pushed him backwards, forcing Merlin to collide with the opposite wall. Merlin was already taking his shirt off when Arthur reached him, kissing him once more, tasting himself on Merlin’s tongue. “Turn around,” he commanded.

Merlin did as he was told and turned, pressing his face against the wall. Arthur pressed himself against Merlin while reaching around to unbutton his pants and push them down. Merlin’s bare ass was now visible, the red silk bottomless briefs he wore as equally beautiful as the man beneath him. Arthur slapped Merlin’s ass hard, the skin welting and turning red on contact, but Merlin simply moaned. “Please, take me,” Merlin begged.

“As you wish,” Arthur bit his lower lip as he spread Merlin’s ass, melting at the sight beneath him.

He leaned down and let his tongue taste the hole of his lover, his saliva creating a wet sound as he licked him. Merlin moaned in hushed tones, his eyes closed as he let his mate tongue fuck him. Before long though, Merlin got what he really asked for.

Arthur lined himself up, teasingly pressing his cock tip against Merlin’s hole a few times. Merlin did not like that. So, in one swift motion, Merlin thrust himself back, forcing all of Arthur’s cock into him. It was painful, but more pleasurable than anything. Arthur moaned and fell forward, cloaking the man beneath. “Fuck,” he said.

Arthur slowly began to thrust himself in and out of Merlin, stretching his lover, slow and with anguish. Within a few minutes, Arthur had started a good rhythm, it was not fast, but it was not slow. Every few thrusts he would pull himself completely out, just to listen to Merlin’s disapproving moans. Arthur moaned loudly every time he reentered Merlin, but the last time was almost too much. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He leaned over the man and began to fuck him harder than before, mounting him as he did, his feet lifting from the ground at the force. He bit into Merlin’s neck as he did so, and within moments, he was cumming deep inside his mate, sweat spilling down his face and chest. They stayed that way for a while, Arthur deep inside of Merlin, though now Merlin’s chest was pressed against the wall with Arthur pressed against him.

“When are you coming home?” Arthur asked, running his hands through Merlin’s hair.

“I am not sure,” he replied. “I hope soon, but…things here are different. It might take some time.”

“Why can’t you tell me where you are?”

“Because I know once I do you will come to find me,” he replied. “Arthur, I told you, I can’t let you come here, it is not safe for you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Just trust me, please,” Merlin said.

Arthur did not argue any longer. “Will I see you again next time I dream?”

“Always,” he said.

“Even if I fall asleep not thinking of you?”

“We are bound by blood, Arthur. I can always enter your mind, no matter what.” Merlin smiled. “Also, happy birthday.”


The bedroom door was forced open, startling Arthur awake. He sat up quickly, the lights blinding for a moment. “Arthur!”

In screamed Guinn and everyone else, the scent of fire filling is nose. The loud, unsoundly sound of a group of men singing filled his ears as the words “Happy Birthday” being sung filled the entirety of the room.

“What the bloody hell,” Arthur laughed as the tension left his body.

Arthur looked at the cake and the lit candles, Guinn doing her best to not drop it as the group approached him, singing like drunk pirates. Once the song was over, Arthur blew out the candles and laughed, until Guinn tossed the cake into his face.

The room fell quiet, Guinn doing her best to not burst out laughing. “What? You don’t eat cake, remember.” And the room proceeded to burst with laughter, Arthur smiling as he tossed a piece from his face at Guinn. “You’re cleaning this up,” he smiled. “Thank you guys, it means a lot. “

Lance handed Arthur a towel to wipe his face off and sat at the foot of the bed. “So, what are we doing today?”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked confused, half of the cake now on the bed instead of the towel.

“It’s your birthday, dude,” Percy said. “No work, no worries. Just fun and birthday things,” he smiled.

“I-I…Um,” Arthur was lost. His family wasn’t really into birthdays, so he didn’t really know.

“Well, good thing I already planned some things!” Guinn clapped her hands closed. “Get dressed, we leave in thirty.”

Arthur sighed and removed himself from the bed, a wet, sticky substance keeping the sheets from leaving his skin smoothly. He would need to shower. His bare feet pattered against the marble floor as he walked into his bathroom, over to the shower, and turned on the faucet. Once in the shower, he let the scorching water wash over his face, the droplets feeling like fire against his perfect skin. Arthur leaned head against the stone wall, his eyes closed. How did he get so lucky to have the worst and the best things happen to him. For the last few years, things spiraled out of control. He never wanted this. He did not wish to be this...thing. He never planned to be so in love either, with that of which he was taught to hate from birth, but he did. He wondered what would have happened if he had chosen a different path, if he had killed Merlin once he knew, had murdered his sister. Maybe his father would still be alive? Perhaps Morgana would still be his loving, sister, his best friend. Or maybe Merlin would have killed him and Arthur wouldn't even be here to ponder these things. One day, maybe, he can be human again. Arthur sighed and washed his hair, his mind spinning with thoughts of Merlin, his love for him. By the end of his shower, he came to the conclusion that he would have changed nothing in his life. Despite all of the hardships that has faced him, he was happy. Really happy and in love. That was worth more to him than ever being human again. 

Once out of the shower, he let his mind go blank. He quickly shaved his face, put a suit on, and was done, all in the span of twenty minutes. It was a record for him, he thought as he strode down the stairs to meet everyone at the doorway. 

"Yay, lets go!" Lance shoved a to-go mug of blood into Arthur's hands as they followed Guinn to the car, a BMW X3 M. 

Once in the car, the group made their way from Camelot and down unknown back roads. “Can you please tell me where we are going?”

“No, that would ruin the surprise,” Guinn said.

The drive was quiet, Arthur's thoughts wondering again, his mind filled with the words from the letter from his lover, the reassurance he felt when mulling over the words. He wanted to ride the waves of time with Merlin, forever. It made him smile as the group arrived down a dirt road, rolling pasture on either side of them. Arthur could have sworn they drove through some field that was blueish in color and moving, like a mirage seen in the heat of the desert, but no one said anything about it, so Arthur too, said nothing. Guinn stopped the car a short way after the blue field, and everyone got out.

“Where are w-,“ before Arthur could finish, a large wind and sound of wings could be heard above, a shadow shrouding the group momentarily in darkness. “Holy shit,” Arthur said, gulping as he looked at the magnificent creature above him.

“Arthur, meet Aithusa,” Lance said approaching the large white dragon.

“Happy birthday,” they all smiled and approached the magnificent beast, her blue eyes piercing as she looked at the boy in front of her.

She bowed her head softly, “Hello, Mr. Pendragon,” the dragon spoke.

“Wait, she speaks?” Arthur could have fainted in that moment. “Dragons are fucking real?”

“Yes,” Gwaine laughed patting Arthur's back hard. “They are very hard to find, but these sanctuaries are helping their species.”

“This is madness,” Arthur said approaching the beast, his mouth agape in awe. “You are magnificent,” he said, walking around her.

Her legs were strong but nimble, her scales reflecting the light form the sun back at him as though each scale was waving at him. There were some scars on her flesh, pink and raised, but old. Her talon like claws dug deep into the Earth, her breath shaking the soil. Her tail was long, sharp, horn like protrusions escaping from the scales beneath. "Just magnificent..."

“Ready to ride?”

“Ready to what?” before he could realize it, Percy was picking him up and placing him on the shoulders of the beast.

With one flap of her wings they were off the ground. Arthur was not ready, his body sliding to the side uncontrollably. He tried to reach for something to grasp but to not avail. Thankfully, Aithusa helped him back up, using her front leg to help him balance so he could pull himself back to his original spot on her shoulders. “This is amazing!” Arthur smiled looking at the clouds and around himself, gripping large horns that trailed down the center of Aithusa's neck. In moments, the pair were high above the clouds, the shadow of the large beast reflecting beneath them.

Everything happened so fast that Arthur had no real time to comprehend that he was riding and actual dragon. Merlin would not believe him. Well, maybe. He did mention something about dragons a while ago, but he was unsure if that was a metaphor or not. Apparently not. “Woo!” Arthur yelled, Aithusa dipping down vertically, straight into the ocean, so Arthur thought.

At the last moment, with the deafening wind hitting Arthur's face, she pulled up slightly, letting her large talons break the surface of the water beneath them. SHe was gliding over the water, every so often the sound of her wings flapping replacing the sound of water in her rider's ears. Soon they were not alone as dolphins joined them, the pod chirping and dancing as the dragon flew above. The ocean was calm, and the sun above shone brightly, giving a soft glow to the blue water beneath.

“Why are you at a sanctuary?” Arthur asked, his body relaxing at the sensation of the wind, the sound of the water and the dragons breathing beneath him.

“I was…not in the best of hands when I first hatched. Greedy men kept me caged like the common beast. I am not as large as my cousins or brothers and sisters. I could not go to the isle and join them because of the order of the beasts, so instead, I came here,” she looked at her reflection in the water, her eyes bluer than the water looking back at her. “I am not alone, though. Many eggs are here and creatures that are the last of their kind.”

“I’m sorry you were treated poorly in life,” Arthur was sorry. He couldn’t image the torture this beast had gone through. “If it’s any worth, you are magnificent and enormous,” he could hear the dragon laugh.

“Thank you,” and she lifted again. “Your mate found me,” she said. “He is a great man.”

“How did you-“

“He is all around you. He's in your blood, your heart. I can smell him, feel him in you. We dragons never forget a scent, especially that of someone we care for,” Arthur grew a little sad. He wished Merlin was here to share this moment with him.

“Just like you, he is magnificent,” Arthur smiled.

“Shall we go back now?”

“Yeah, I’m sure Guinn would be dying to take a ride.” Arthur smiled. "And thank you, for letting me ride," he said. "It is a pleasure I doubt many can relate to."

"You are too kind Mr. Pendragon. It was my honor, any mate of Merlin's is welcome on my back."

As Aithusa turned her course back towards the sanctuary, a thought pierced Arthur’s mind, a painful burn like one he had never felt before. It was unintelligible, muffled, mixed and scrambled, like a broken record. Arthur yelled allowed, unable to contain the sheer magnitude of the pain he felt. His vision began to blur. He was dizzy, his body slipping from the dragons hide. He was going to fall. "No.." he could barely whimper out. The last thing he could see was Aithusa diving down after him, and then darkness.


Chapter Text

The sound of horse hooves pounding the damp earth were gradually becoming more irritating as they traveled, almost more irritating than her ass on the saddle. They’d been trekking through the woods for quite some time, an annoyingly long amount of time. “How much further?”

“Jesus, you’re more of a prat than you’re spoiled brother,” Mordred remarked. “It’s just ahead. We must make sure they cannot find us after your little fit the other day,” he huffed.

Morgana rolled her eyes. “We are starting a war, remember?”

“Indeed,” Mordred said stopping his horse and hoping off the saddle.

He grasped the reins, pulled them over the grey mare’s head and proceeded to undo the buckles of its bridle. “We’re doing things a bit out of date for your age, but you should be able to manage,” he said taking the bridle from horse completely and hanging it on nearby tree.

“Let me ask you something,” Morgana started, getting off the horse she rode and strode over to the smaller boy; he had to have been young when he made the transition, barley eighteen, maybe nineteen. “Why are you so adamant about starting this war?”

“Why are you?” he retorted, avoiding her question.

He walked from her and through a thick wall of branches and vines, pulling them to the side. Once he was through, there was large wooden cabin, and by large, it was more of a mansion, all wood. The entire entrance was a well kempt lawn, hedges and flowers placed neatly all around. Morgana could not be sure, but she thought she could hear a waterfall nearby, which must have fed the small creek that transected the entire lawn, lily pads dancing across the surface.

“I would have never taken you for a man of wealth,” Morgana said, following the boy across the lawn.

He looked back at her briefly, “I'm not,” he smirked and made his way through the front door. "If you live as long as I have you tend to accumulate things that mirror wealth."

“So, are you going to continue to ignore my question?”

“Are you going to ignore mine?”

Morgana rubbed the bridge of her nose. This is why no one liked this boy, she determined in that moment. He was determined to seem more regal than he actually was, a man of higher value, of power. He wanted to hold mystery in the palm of his hand using his pride as his shield in the other. He was an arrogant fool, but Morgana had no choice but to follow him. He was the only one who guide her out of the shadow of the Pendragon name, of the men in her family. “You know why I want war, Mordred, don’t be dull," she finally said. "I have never hidden my reasons. I simply want to know yours,” she said, following him to the main living area of the mansion.

“A bit of a lot,” he shrugged. “Hundreds of years have shaped how I feel about the world and the people who run it,” he ran his pale fingers along the top of a pale green, cloth couch, his eyes admiring the expensive fabric before looking over to large bookshelves that sat on either side of a window that took up almost an entire wall, giving the view of the world around them.

A large waterfall was the centerpiece in the yard, trees encompassing the entire property; a natural barrier. “Tell me,” he said, turning to face the dark-haired girl across from him. “How did the change come to you?”

Morgana clenched her jaw. “Do you want me to tell you I was tricked? Or perhaps it was forced upon me?”

“No, but I am to assume you asked for this yes?”


“Unlike you, I was not given that luxury," the way the word slipped from his lips like a sour grape sent chills through her body. "I did not ask for this life,” he sighed. “I was happy before. Things were simple then. I was in a family of merchants, the only ones in my village, just on the outskirts of London. It was mostly a farming village, cattle, crops, the sorts, but my father wanted a better life for us," he closed his eyes as though he were going back in time. "I used to travel into the square with my father to sell wool and clothing my mother had sewn,” Mordred sat, resting an arm on the back of the smooth clothed couch. “I met my first love in the square,” he smiled. “He was a servant, to the castle. He was running errands the day we met,” Morgana sighed silently to herself. She did not care for the details, she just wanted to know his motivations.

“But I digress…Maybe a year had passed and he came to me. He was tired of hiding and running around in the night to see me, it was becoming far too dangerous, for the both of us. So, we decided to run away. He left his wife, and I left my family, without looking back.”

“Wow, intriguing…” Morgana rolled her eyes.

Mordred ignored her. “This was the home we built together,” he motioned to the room they were in. “It’s magnificent is it not? We spent three years here, happy, unbothered. I loved him dearly and he me. We were hoping that one day we would come to enough wealth to go back home, once everyone had forgotten who we were. What naive young boys we were. We had enough fortune to be comfortable, but not enough to return home."

"The week of my nineteenth birthday was the worst week of my life. It was when everything changed. I received a letter from a was my mothers writing. My father had died, the plague. It soon took my brother and my mother said she was too, going to join them in heaven. She begged me to come home," Mordred sighed. "It stormed that week, too. Storms so terrible, I was sure they were out to tear down everything we had built together."

"I didn't know you had a brother?"

"Mmm, yes. We were not on the best of terms. He knew about my 'affliction' and hated me for it."

"My father was more-or-less the same to my brother, when he came out. He ended up just denying it and eventually ignored it all together," Morgana remarked.

Mordred laughed softly, "The world has not changed much." Mordred was silent, for a long time before saying anything else. Morgana became uncomfortable in the silence, the sound of an old grandfather clock...tick, tick, tick.

"Maybe a day or two after I received the letter, things were seemingly normal other than the weather. I had just come back inside from putting the heard into the barn when I could hear a knock at the door," Mordred sat up now, his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers running over the smooth flesh of his cheeks. "I made my way to the door and greeted the stranger. He was drenched and cold, horse equal. His blue eyes were striking in the faint glow of the candelabra I held when I opened the door, the most memorable feature from him.”

“How long had it been since the two of you had seen others?”

“We traveled to Camelot at times. We enjoyed the familiar smells of the market. We also went to sell cloth and wool, just like my father had. We had managed to get a heard of three sheep, they must have run off, but it was like a gift from god. We were able to make a decent income, became more than the poor street rats we would have become in London.”

“I’m impressed.”

“It was all his idea – he was brilliant.” Mordred crossed his legs and leaned back, sinking further into the couch. “Then the stranger took everything away from us. We invited him in, warmed him, fed him. Housed his horse, dried his clothes.” Mordred shook his head. “We, I, should've known something was off when he did not drink our drink or eat our food. But we were ignorantly young,” he sighed again. “We had become infatuated with him, his speech, the way he held himself. He was like a god in our eyes. His raven hair, his piercing blue eyes…He was well built, dressed like a king. We were sure he was. I suppose we both hoped that if we treated him well, he would ask us to join him, in the castle, as...who knows? He did not care for our partnership. He asked many questions, laughed and joked with us,” Mordred stood. “Follow me?”

Morgana did, walking silently behind him as he took her through the large estate. It wasn’t long before he had her following him up large stairs, leading to the fourth floor, the walls unsettling bare and white in color. It was quite a drastic difference from the rustic wood, rooms filled with paintings and photographs, soft carpet, and beautiful lighting. The esthetic was nostalgic; Morgana wondered how Mordred must have felt.

As the dove deeper into the fourth floor, the white walls engulfing them, they made there way to a large room, that was a majority of the fourth floor. Furniture was covered in sheets, dusted and untouched for centuries it seemed. A smell lingered there, musty and damp. If Morgana listened, she could hear the chirping of small mice scurrying beneath the sheets.

“That night, once we went to bed, the storm outside grew incredibly angry, the wind pounding against our home, lightning threatening to catch everything we built on fire. I had woken up to thunder overhead; it shook the whole damn house. When I woke, my bedside was empty. Maybe it was because of the storm or the alcohol I had consumed, but my heart was racing, I was worried, panicking even. I jumped from bed, calling his name.”

“You see, at that time, there was no electricity, so the only light I had was from the lightning outside, the unreliable flashes is all I had. I took maybe three or four steps from the bed before I slipped on something wet. I hit the ground, using my hands to break my fall. I half expected to hit more of what I slipped on, but I was wrong. It was a body…his body,” Mordred's voice cracked, sadness encompassing his entirety. Morgana could hear it in the way the words seemed to not want to escape his lips. His shoulders fell, his head sunk. “I cried out, knowing he was gone. His eyes were open, lifeless. His body was already firm, like a rock, cold and...he was just gone. I grabbed him up quickly, slipping and sliding on his blood, as I held his corpse in my arms and wept. “

“For some reason I had the instinct to look up, and when I did I saw him. His silhouette in the doorway. Lightning seemed to bounce off those blue eyes as he looked at me, blood covering his mouth. He sneered and approached me. I dropped my love, fear coursing through my veins as I tried so escape. It was useless of course, I was a wounded animal, and he was a hungry wolf. He was on me faster than the flashes of lightning,” he looked back at Morgana, a single tear falling from his eyes. “I hate the way it made me feel. It was painful but…erotic at the same time. I tried to push him off, but I couldn’t. He was this immovable force. It wasn't long before I became weak and dizzy, fading in and out of consciousness. I remember him laying my head down, softly on the cold ground next to my love. Just as soon as he appeared, he was gone, like some cliche from a horror novel.”

“Did he turn you then?”

“No. William did.”

“Who is William?”

“He is our secret weapon,” Mordred smiled. “He was the stranger’s lover of sorts. He was following the man, well, the trail of corpses he left behind. William saw that I was not gone yet. He asked me, but I said nothing, I looked over to my dead partner and closed my eyes. I wished to join him in the afterlife but I woke up. And I was this.”

“Who was the stranger?”

“Your brother’s mate,” he snapped, slamming his fist onto one of the sheet-covered pieces of furniture, breaking it on impact. “The bastard doesn’t even know who I am! He plays this sick, decent man, but I know the real Merlin Emrys. I know his true instincts, I know what he really is. He stole my mate, and for centuries I have tried to find him and steal away what he loved most," Mordred yelled into the emptiness of the fourth floor.

“But the man loved nothing, held nothing close,” he laughed, coldly. “Until Arthur. Then I knew, I knew then I could make Merlin feel what I felt that night. I tried, for so long you see, I thought I had won. I sold him out to the Blood Hunters, I was their tip. But the bastard escaped. I worked so hard to have Arthur, but Merlin is intoxicating.”

“How will you do it then? Take your revenge?”

Mordred again laughed, a laugh that sent chills down Morgana’s spine. “Hello Morgana,” a voice said from behind her.

Morgana turned quickly. The man looking at her was a thing of sheer beauty, raw and magnificent. His soft blue, almost hazel eyes striking against the white walls of the room. His dirty blonde hair and five O’clock shadow giving the man a carefree appeal, but he stood straight, the suit he wore mirroring the raw beauty he had. “Fantastic…”

“I am William,” he reached his hand out.

Morgana took it, “Morgana,” she smiled deviously.

“Indeed, the devious, rebellious sister of the boy who has stolen what used to be mine, yes?”

“Quite so, it seems.”


“Gaius, get here soon, please,” Merlin said hanging up the phone quickly.

Merlin did not want to drag him into any of this, but Merlin had no choice. He was running out of options, he was stuck.

“What happened?” Merlin yelled, turning abruptly to face the two responsible for the fate of his mate.

The pair were startled, certain he had not seen or heard them come in, but he had, and looked angry. “We don’t know,” Guinn said, shaking her head. She looked tired and stressed. “Aithusa said he just yelled out and slipped from her back…”

“Did Arthur say anything?”

“Your name, but that was all she could make out,” Lance responded.

Merlin ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I felt it too,” Merlin sighed and looked over to the bed where Arthur lay. “It was more of a secondary feeling though. I knew it was not my pain, but it was strong enough to have an effect on me,” Merlin growled. “Fuck! Why can’t anything be simple anymore?”

“When has anything been simple with you, Merlin?” Lance laughed. “Listen, he is alive, he is well. We will figure out everything else once Gaius get’s here.”

“God, why does it feel like I was kicked in the head by a horse?” Arthur moaned out.

Merlin smiled and walked over to him, kissing his forehead softly. “Maybe you were,” he smiled.

“I swear to god if Percy just kissed me, I am going to punch him,” Arthur squinted his eyes open and smiled. “Not Percy.”

“Most definitely not,” Merlin almost squealed as Arthur reached up and pulled him down, planting a nice, wet kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said. He was, he was incredibly sorry.

He was being childish in his grief of rage. He couldn’t understand why no one would believe him, but in being so angry and selfish, he forced those close to him to leave. Merlin of course, was also some fault, but that didn’t matter now. He was just happy that his mate was back, that he could touch and smell him again.

“I know,” Merlin whispered to him. “Continue this later? First we need to figure out what happened.”

Arthur agreed and sat up, greedily taking the cup of blood Guinn handed him. He gulped down in seconds before setting it on the table and listening to everyone talk, some talk about catching up with Merlin and his vague descriptions of his travels. When Gaius got there, Merlin and he hugged for a while. Arthur could tell Merlin was trying not to cry, and he didn’t.

Gaius had aged even more, but the man was still full of life, and in great health. The scene in the room reminded Arthur of the very beginning, before they left for Germany, everyone in Merlin’s house discussing the next steps. It was surreal to see everyone like this again. Lance no longer seemed angry at Arthur for delaying the wedding even longer, Gwaine and Percy were back to giggling and making their crude jokes. Guinn was smiling again, smiling, the dark circles from her eyes having left her dark flesh. This was Arthur’s new home, his kingdom.

“Should we go ahead and discuss what happened to Arthur?” Gaius finally said.

“Sure,” Merlin led him over to the bedside.

Gaius sat down and smiled, his wrinkled flesh attempting to rise but failing. “Tell me what happened, Arthur.”

“I don’t really know? It was sudden, painful. I thought I could hear disheveled, muffles voices? But I don’t really know…it was just…a pain I don’t ever want to relive,” Arthur gripped Merlin’s hand.

“Voices?” Merlin interjected.

“I think so, yeah. Why?”

“You don’t know what they were saying?” Gaius asked.

“No, they distorted, muffled. I could hardly hear myself scream honestly,” Arthur said, annoyed that he was unable to be more of any help.

“I’ll do some research, see what I can find. Would the Council be opposed to me searching their library?”

“Take Lance with you, they’ll let you in.”

“Okay, well, we will go ahead and leave then. I’ll call should I find anything,” Gaius said.


“A lot has changed once you left,” Arthur said, rubbing his thumb against the back of Merlin’s hand.

“So I’ve seen,” Merlin kissed the top of his head, breathing in his scent as he did. “I am quite proud of you,” he said.

“Thank you,” Arthur smiled. “I liked when you visited me when I slept,” Arthur leaned up slightly, kissing his mate’s jawline softly.

“That so?” Merlin asked coyly at the boy. “What did you enjoy?”

Arthur continued to kiss Merlin’s jaw, trailing to his throat. He nipped the flesh teasingly, “Feeling your mouth around my cock,” Arthur moaned into Merlin’s ear before returning to his neck.

“What else?” Merlin moaned softly.

“Listening to your soft moans fill the hall as I fucked you,” Arthur was next to moan, all the blood in his body now in his cock.

Merlin formed a devious grin across his lips. In one swift motion, he had Arthur out of bed and pinned against the wall across from it. Now his face was forced into the stone, his arms held above his head at the wrists. Merlin bit Arthur’s ear lobe and whispered, “Let me return the favor,” before Arthur could reply, his trousers were on the floor and Merlin’s hand was gripped around his cock, the thick flesh pulsing in its grasp.

“Tell me what you want,” he said to his mate, the boy’s blonde hair messy and damp from sweat.

“I want you,” Arthur replied.

“I need something more than that,” Merlin said gripping the man’s cock harder, a whimper escaping from his mate’s lips.

“I want to feel your cock inside me,” Merlin slowly began to move his hand, so slow, Arthur could not help but buck his hips forward, needing the friction to speed up.

“And then?”

“I want you to fill me up, stretch me, use me, I just want you,” Arthur huffed, “Please, Merlin. I need it,” and Merlin finally obliged.

Merlin let his cock from its cage and slowly began to rub it between Arthur’s cheeks, listening to the man moan and quiver beneath him. Merlin moved his hand from Arthurs cock and flipped him, now using his free hand to grip Arthur’s throat, the artery in his neck pulsing to life at the surface of his flesh.

Merlin’s body became alight with a feeling he had never felt before. It was Arthur’s feelings, one that sent his mind elsewhere, leaving only a primal instinct behind. Arthur’s eyes rolled to the back of his had once Merlin leaned down and bit him, letting his blood pool into his mouth like the warm waters of the Caribbean Sea. Arthur moaned and wrapped his arms around his mate just as Merlin released his throat. Merlin picked Arthur up, his bare back sliding up the wall as he did. Just as quickly as he had picked him up, he slid him down, the tip of his cock piercing his hole. Arthur tossed his head back, and forced himself further down, pushing Merlin’s cock deeper inside of himself.

Merlin’s cock was the largest thing Arthur had seen. He loved the way it stretched him open, the pleasure he felt when he was bounced on it. “Fuck, Merlin, I missed you,” Arthur said just as Merlin replaced his breath with his own.

Merlin moaned into Arthur he bounced him on his cock, the warmth wrapping around him like no one else had or even could. He loved this feeling, he loved Arthur. He wanted to spend eternity with him, to live out there lives exploring and loving each other. “I love you,” Merlin said against his lips.

Merlin pulled away to look at the god beneath him, his perfect hair, his perfect skin, the way his muscled rippled against his flesh. Without warning, Arthur shot hot cum on the both of them, his moan so loud he was sure everyone downstairs heard.  Merlin used a hand to help finish him, rubbing his cock all the way through his orgasm until he himself orgasmed, filling his mate, claiming him, loving him.

Merlin laid his forehead against Arthur’s, their heavy breathing the only sound left in the room.


Chapter Text

The ran pounded at his bake like an unforgiving war march, the heavy droplets daggers despite the cloak he wore. The rain was relentless. His horse shivered beneath him, “Soon, I promise,” he spoke to the creature, calming her as she walked through thick mud.

Soon was an understatement as only a minute or so later he could hear the sound of footsteps and the soft glow of lights penetrating thick forest. It was hard to notice as it rained sideways against his face. When he approached the home, he was quite impressed with its enormity and seclusion. They were situated in a small cove that they must have made themselves, the home wooden but large, the property clear of trees except of the ones encircling it. They were miles from anywhere and the forest so thick must would not dare venture here.

The man was quite impressed, a smirk making its way to his lips. Once close, he stepped off his horse, walked to the door, and knocked. He could hear the sound of life inside, he could smell them, the two souls who made this their home. It was not long before the door was opened, a small boy with dark hair on the other side, soft candle light filtering out into the night.

“Hello?” the young one said.

“Hello there stranger,” he said. “I am seeking shelter, and came across this magnificent estate,” he looked at the boy, hunger filling his belly.

He smiled seductively, the boy’s cheeks going red. “Come in, get out of the cold,” he motioned for the man to enter, stepping to the side. “Here, let me take that,” as he took his drenched cloak, the second occupant made himself known.

“Mordred?” said the man.

“He needs shelter, until the rain lightens up,” Mordred said. “Would you mind taking his horse to the barn?” The new man smiled and walked out without saying a word, a grin that did not stop once he approached the mare, petting her and cooing as he had her follow him to the barn situated at the back.

“Thank you,” the stranger replied.

“Of course, come with me. I’ll get you some food and drink, and perhaps new clothes? I’ll have to see if I have something that might fit…” he trailed off, setting the cloak over a stairwell as he strode to the living room, a fire blazing in the center.

“Sit, sit, I will be back,” the man nodded and thanked him again.

He was sat in the room for a while by himself, observing the décor and the literature littering the room. For young men, the home was well built and well taken care of. At one point he stood, walking along the tall shelves, reading the spines of the old stories. Some of the books had started to fray and come apart at the spine, dust having made its home on them. The man did not understand why people would own books but refuse to touch them. “How odd,” he said quietly, running his fingers along the shelves.

“Here you are,” said a voice from behind him. “I’m Mordred,” he said, standing straight up, his pants slightly wrinkled, his tunic off-white and stained with mud.

“Emrys,” the man replied.

“What an odd name,” Mordred smiled, his cheeks flushed again.

“Who is your partner?” Emrys questioned.

He could see the boy gulp at his question, his averting his gaze. “Edmond,” he said softly.

“You do not have to worry about me,” Emrys replied, his voice sending a chill through the boy. “My bed has only ever been shared with men,” she smiled.

Emrys could see salty droplets forming on the boys face as he awkwardly smiled. “Well, t-that’s, good, then.”

“Are those mine?” Emrys asked, noting towards the neatly folded clothes on the arm of the chair.

“Yes!” the boy said, louder than necessary. He picked them up and walked towards the man and handed them to him.

Emrys closed his eyes and took in the man’s smell, his stomach begging for a meal. Mordred looked up at the looming man, his cheeks the color of blood. He approached far closer than proper, but Emrys did not move. He reached a hand up and moved a strand of hair that had fallen into the boy’s face, their eyes locked. Emrys watched as the boy’s pupils pulsed, dilating before returning normal, only to repeat the process.

“I should go check the tea,” Mordred stammered before scurrying off into the kitchen, his breathing loud against the walls as he moved.

It wasn’t long before Edmond returned, the rippling muscles beneath his tunic more apparent now that his clothing was wet. Edmond noticed the hungry stare from the man across the room and smirked. He pretended he did not notice Emrys though, as he turned and lifted his wet tunic over his head, the muscular form beneath just as intoxicating as his scent. Emrys slowly stalked forward, his eyes watching the muscles move at the mans back, the water droplets that hung to his flesh.

Emrys placed his hands on the man’s waist once close enough, the man not even flinching at his touch. “What a wondering eye you have,” Emrys whispered to the man, rubbing himself against him.

“What kind of host would I be if I did not offer the best to our guests?” He retorted, leaning into the man behind him.

“And what of you mate?” Emrys questioned.

Edmond just laughed and removed himself from the clutches of Emrys and walked away, leaving the man to lean against the doorway, arms crossed, and watching.

“Tea’s ready!” Emrys heard Mordred say from across the home.

“I won’t be having any,” Edmond said disappearing up the stairs and out of view.

Emrys sighed and moved on to the other, following his scent into the kitchen.

“Tell me Mr. Mordred,” Emrys said, starling the young boy as he entered. “Why are you here?”

He turned to face the man, his tunic shirt somehow gone, the dry breeches just a little too tight. He gulped again. “We wanted freedom,” he said honestly. “I’m sure you understand,” he said handing him a cup of tea.

“I do, yes.” He responded.

Mordred leaned his back against the counter, setting his cup down far too close to the edge for Emrys to be comfortable with. “Why were out in the storm?”

“Running, I suppose,” he said honestly.

“Honesty, interesting,” Mordred laughed.

He was a tiny, thin boy. Years of poor food and drink can do that, but he was nimble and strong in his own way. Emrys would much have preferred to seduce the man upstairs, but Mordred was a far easier task, so small, so innocent. Emrys imagined his taste rolling over his tongue like waves crashing on a sandy beach. Perhaps he would be successful at getting them both, but one could only hope. Emrys got closer to him, watching his body shake at his predatory gaze.

Emrys stopped just short of touching him, mere inches from him. He leaned over and pushed the cup of tea further back from the edge, Mordred nervously laughing. “Don’t want broken glass,” Emrys remarked, his breath caressing the ear of the boy.

“R-,” he cleared his cracking throat. “Right.”

Emrys then took another step closer, letting his leg slide neatly between the boy’s, a gasp falling from his opened mouth. “W-what are you?” he words were lost once Emrys gripped his waist, placing a soft kiss on his throat.

He could hear the pounding in his veins, he could feel it in his lips, and he grew hungry. But, to Emrys’ surprise, Mordred pushed him away, his eyes averting from his gaze. “Please, no,” he said sheepishly.

“I’m very sorry,” Emrys said taking a step back. “I have overstepped,” Emrys turned to walk away, but his arm was grabbed and his decent halted.

“No,” Mordred said. “You have not,” he looked at Emrys, a little scared. “I love him, I don’t want to ruin what we have here over a stranger.”

“That is fair,” Emrys responded.

Suddenly, booming thunder shook the home, the sound of lightning striking nearby startling the boy. He could hear the sheep screaming nearby, “I need to go check on them,” he said and quickly disappeared, leaving Emrys more-or-less dissatisfied in the kitchen.

He huffed once the boy was gone and leaned against the counter, completely taken back by the boy. He would take him, but he would take his mate first.

With a devilish grin on his lips, he followed Edmond’s scent up the stairs and down a dark corridor. At the end was an opened door, a study he thought, which was confirmed when he entered. The sight he saw, however, was far greater than the beauty of the home. Edmond was bent over a writing desk, appearing to be retrieving something that had fallen behind. He was naked, his ass perfect in the dimly lit room, the candles flickering at the motion of the man.

Emrys was sure the man had planned this, his heart racing in his chest as he slowly looked for something. Emrys did not let him wait him long before he was once again rubbing himself against the man, the tips of the boy’s ears going red. “Well, well,” Emrys said.

“I thought I’d be bent over for hours,” he remarked.

“What torture that would be,” he said. “Pondering how I would take you, how much anguish would fill your greedy cock as you thought about how long it would take me to get to you,” Emrys smiled and reached down to grip the throbbing cock between the boy’s legs.

Unfortunately, their tryst was cut short as the sound of Mordred’s voice filled the halls. “Pity, I would have enjoyed fucking you,” Emrys said into his ear.

 “I would have been the one fucking,” he proclaimed as Emrys left the room.

Emrys just laughed and strode back down the stairs, looking over the boy now soaking wet. “Jesus, the rain is terrible,” he groaned slipping off his wet boots.

“Let me help,” Emrys said, walking over and knelt, gripping one of the boots and unbuckling it.

“You don’t have to-“

He was cut short. “Please, allow me. You’re giving me shelter, it is the least I can do,” he smiled while letting his fingers undo the laces of the boots.

The boy no longer argued and just watched as the man took off his boots. His watched as his hands slowly climbed his thighs, gripping the flesh seldomly as he kept climbing, until he reached the tie of his breeches. Emrys stopped, meeting the boys gaze, waiting. Mordred nodded, and so, Emrys untied the string, letting his breeches fall slightly on his hips.

He admired the pale flesh of the boy standing over him and the v-shape the muscles made on his abdomen. He was thin, but well built. Emrys leaned forward to kiss the flesh that was now in sight, his tongue tasting him. He bit at his hip, a soft gasp escaping the boy above him. He looked up, meeting the blue eyes filled with want, the fiery red cheeks giving his desire away.

“What changed your mind?” Emrys asked curiously.

“Why should I be faithful when he is not?”

Emrys smirked, the hunger biting to be free. “Alright,” he simply said.

The sex was mediocre by Emrys’ standards, but he enjoyed it nevertheless. It was quick and to the point, the boy left panting and satisfied at the end. His legs shook as he pulled his breeches back up, his thin frame almost falling over as he did so.

Emrys just smiled and followed the boy as he poured them wine.

Eventually Edmond joined them and they talked and rank wine for hours. Food was offered though Emrys did not take any.

Emrys was waiting, stalking. He knew once the house fell silent, once the sound of sleeping men and rain were all that could be heard, he would strike, and he did.

He started with Edmond first, waking him to follow him down the hall. He would seduce him first, it was always more fun that way, to ruin their hopes of fulfillment. He enjoyed toying with them, playing with like a large cat playing with a rabbit. The outcome was always the same in the end.

“Turn around,” Edmond demanded.

But Emrys did not comply, hunger the only thing on his mind. He forced the other to turn, pinning him harshly against the wall. He struggled slightly to break free, but soon gave up when Emrys began to nip at the flesh of his neck, soft moans escaping his lips.

He gripped the boy’s hair, tossing his head back, revealing that large pulsing vein he had been staring at all night. He pounced then, his teeth ripping open the flesh better than any knife in creation. The moan resumed struggling, but to no avail. A moan escaped his lips, louder than Emrys would have wanted, but it was too late now. He released the man, weak and stumbling.

He was gripping his neck as he strode towards the resting place of his partner, probably to warn him. Emrys just laughed, bellowing, like a demon from hell. He tripped the weak boy, his knees cracking at the force of his fall.

Emrys just watched as he crawled to the room, blood trailing behind him. “What a waste,” he sneered, followed close behind. “Pity, you tasted wonderful.”

“Please, don’t hurt him,” the boy managed to get out.

“Hurt him? Ha!” Emrys laughed again. “You have hurt the boy more than I will, I promise you that,” he growled, watching him slip and fall further on the ground, his body to weak to move further.

Emrys smiled and knelt at his side, flipped him over with ease, and looked at the fear in his eyes. He could hear the faint sound of his weak heartbeat. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he drained the last of the blood in his veins within seconds.

He growled angrily that he held nothing more in his pathetic veins, but alas, there was another meal to be had.

“Edmond?” Mordred called, having sat up in bed.

Emrys smirked and waited, watching the boy leave the bed only to slip on his lover’s blood and land on his body. The realization of what it was and who forced a scream like no other from his lips as he pulled him onto his lap, the cold limbs falling to the floor at awkward angles.

Then too, the boy was gone, left lifeless at his lover’s side.


“Shit,” Arthur said.

“Double shit,” Lance and Gawaine said in unison.

“So, wait,” Percy said. “How was he turned?”

“I don’t know!” Merlin growled in frustration. “I thought I had killed them both. I was dark then, only cared about my next meal, about toying with them…I didn’t focus on if he were dead, really dead. I never shared my blood, not with anyone.”

“Jesus this is a lot to take in,” Arthur felt a little weird.

He was unsure how to feel about the old Merlin, the feral animal that plagued the world. “Are you okay?” Merlin asked, approaching his mate, worried that he had revealed too much.

“How did you remember this?” Guinn interrupted.

“I took a book of theirs,” he began. “It was Latin, an old story about the Titans. Edmond had signed it and gifted it to Mordred. When I was in the Library, I saw it and it hit me,” Merlin shook his head. “That was so long ago I never really put it together. He doesn’t even look the same,” Merlin sighed.

“It’s not your fault,” Arthur said.

“Arthur, don’t. I have destroyed thousands of lives, I’ve killed just as many. It is my fault,” he said to him.

“We’re in this together,” Arthur said. “We can fix it.”

“He is right Arthur,” Gaius said. “But first, we need to figure out what happened to Arthur, and I think I may have an idea.”


“In one of the Coven Conception scrolls, it mentions something about an old magic used to capture dragons, or at least, tame them. However, the magic emitted a sound so strong, it killed vampires anywhere near the dragons, so the magic was banned.” Gaius stated.

“We share blood similar to dragons, so it must have an affect on us,” Gawaine remarked. “That could be why Aithusa didn’t immediately try and save Arthur.”

“If a vampire as hold of this magic, who knows what it could do,” Lance said.

Merlin was unsure who could have access to such magic. If were to be a vampire, how could they have the knowledge to read it? Anyone could preform some types of magics, but not a single person could perform such a strong magic alone. Merlin, unlike the rest, could do magic from birth, but even he did not mess with magics such as that. "Kilgharrah," Merlin said. "We need to find Kilgharrah."

"Who is that?"

"A very old friend, a mentor of sorts," he replied. "That's where I was, I was trying to find him and had a lead before I came home."

"Where next are we traveling to?"


"Egypt?" Gawaine questioned. "Like, sand dunes, Egypt?"


Gawaine groaned and sunk in his seat, annoyed. He hated the heat, and Egypt was no exception. "Great, well. I'll get the plane ready," and he was gone, Percy following close behind.

"Hey, Merlin, could I speak with you?" Arthur asked. 

Merlin agreed and followed him to the study down the hall. Arthur shut the door, before walking around the room, looking over the shelves of worn books and photo albums. He had changed. He was strong now, the embodiment of grace and elegance. He put up with a lot without letting it show. He was no longer the prat he had met years ago in his class. He was a man now, brave, strong. He was a king. Merlin watched as his muscles stretched the shirt at his back, his muscular form daring the cloth to a duel. His hair was no longer long, the ends short and fit with the sides shaved. His eyes showed a man far older than the one he portrayed on the surface, though his confidence was something to be feared. 

They stayed in the room for a while, silently, Merlin watching his mate observe the room with grace. He seemed okay with that, glancing over seldom, to smile at Merlin, his blue eyes mesmerizing even then. "Do you love me?"

Merlin was shocked at the words just spoken, a dagger in his gut. "What kind of question is that?"

Merlin approached his mate, his hands out, needing to fell Arthur on his skin. "Do you love me?"

"Of course I do," Merlin was searching Arthur's eyes, trying to find something that would tell him what was happening. "Arthur, what's going on?"

"Then why are you lying? To everyone?" Arthur accused. 

"I don't understand?"

Arthur shook his head before tossing a book on a nearby table, though it was not a book, but a journal. The old black leather falling away, the parchment far more yellow than anything seen. There was a familiar 'M' on the right corner, barley noticeable, but Merlin knew it was there. He didn't have to look. It was his. "Where did you get that?" Merlin questioned, walking over to the old thing.

"I found it, in your home, hidden behind some other texts," he sighed. "It's a pretty great read, especially the part about Will," he gritted his teeth as he spoke his name. "You lied to me," he shook his head. "You know who turned Mordred."

Arthur pushed him and Merlin let him. "You lied to me!" his voice began to rise. "You told me I was the only one," tears threatened the corners of his eyes. "You told me, and lied to my face." Arthur pushed Merlin again, the force sending Merlin back. 

"Arthur, please, wait," Merlin pleaded.

"Were you ever going to tell me he was your first? You were bonded! You loved him! He wanted this life, because it was with you! And you betrayed him!" Arthur growled, punching Merlin in the chest. "And you're going to do the same to me, aren't you?" Arthur was sobbing now, still punching at Merlin's chest. "He loved you like I do but I will never be your William, will I? I didn't want this life," his body shook. "He did. And you betrayed him...and you betrayed me," he was no longer yelling, but his body was weak, his legs giving out.

Merlin caught him, sliding down the wall while cradling the boy in front of him. Merlin choked back the tears that demanded to be set free. "Arthur, look at me," Merlin said. He moved his hand beneath Arthur's chin and lifted it, "You're right. He was my first, we were bonded," Merlin shook his head. "But he will never be you, Arthur. I don't love him, and I have never loved him like I do you." Merlin kissed his forehead. "Please trust me," Merlin said, searching those blue eyes. "I will give you my journal, the ones from the last two hundred years, I will let you read them. If you don't trust me, then read them."

"You lied to me," Arthur shook his head. "You told me I was your first," he was still crying. "You lied."

"You were my first, Arthur. Not him," Merlin kissed his lips, searching for some reasoning with him. "I unknowingly bonded, it was an accident, and consequently, a mistake."

"I don't know if I trust you, Merlin. Not after this."



Chapter Text

The world had changed. The ran no longer fell to Earth like it used to, the soil soaking the droplets up knowing tomorrow would bring another. Now, the soil is scorched, cracking and dying, the rain poison in the ground and the water.

The season have changed. The seasons are no longer discernable, the warm summer months dragging on far longer into the winter; spring only days before the Earth is yet scorched again. The world was suffering, but so was he. He too was suffering, drying up in the heat of the day, his skin cracking and burned, blisters covering the once smooth and untouched flesh.

He was no longer running, not really. Not from those who had hunted for centuries. There was a new enemy now: Himself. There was no escaping it. The universe always has a way of bringing things back into balance, he knew that. For the centuries of evil he had laid on the Earth, he would now suffer for his indiscretions. He was to lose the most valuable thing to him.

Not his life, not his fortune, not his knowledge or his power. All stories know what it is, the cliché of a hero, the protagonist. Every bit of literature speaks of it, fills the minds of humans and vampires alike. Dragons are not even immune to it, nor penguins or dogs. He was not above them.

He would lose his mate, his love.

And for what? His pride? His humbleness?

For shit.

He was not a man for curses, but he had lost that care long ago.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to run. He was done running now, though. It would not save anybody.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting the cold, polluted water rain down upon it. It rolled over his bare skin. Time seemed to slow in that moment, the rain nearly stopping at a halt upon his flesh. If he opened his eyes, he could see the reflection of himself in the rain, a cursed man, a hypocrite.

He was no better than the man wanting to kill him. That man at least had a purpose, and he was honest, with himself and those around him.

He lived by a rule, an unspoken rule. Do not tell what is never asked for. SO, he never did, unless he was asked. Now he realizes that does not make you honest, but a thief. You steal away the opinions of others by putting things in the shadows, closing them away, like cutting a light out.

Pity, he thought, that he should make this realization now.

A flash of lightning made his pale eyelids open, time still slowed as he yelled out, cursing the heavens, the universe for creating such a monster. The muscles beneath his flesh were taut, flexing against the rain as he ground his fists into the dead beneath. How he wished to be the Earth now.

There was no moon now, just clouds hiding the trillions of stars and galaxies blanketing the sky. He missed the nights he could see the galaxy they called home, the cluster of stars and darkness neatly banded across the sky. He understood why the early Humans worshiped the sky. In its terrifying glory, it gave comfort to all who looked upon it.

Arthur used to look at him like that, like his protector, his comfort.

But as the world had changed, so did he. He needed no protector now for he was one. He was a proper man, a knight, hell, even a king. He should be crowned for all he has done for both the human and the vampire world. No other man or beast could dream of doing what he had done, though no others ever tried.

Merlin wondered why Arthur loved the coward of a man he knew he was. They, the world and the people in it, say opposites attract, and the two were very different. Merlin ran from his problems, but Arthur faced them, head on, like a dragon flying into battle; how fitting his last name was.

Arthur did not wish to be who he was, he wanted mortality, he enjoyed it, knowing there would one day be an end. Merlin was different, he only knew this life, and looking upon the mortals as time went on, he was glad he was not one. He enjoyed the literatures and ever-changing languages. He loved watching the world grow and change. Arthur did not.

He did enjoy traveling and looking at others, their way of life, but he was content with his own. He did not need anything else, he didn’t want it. His world was already perfect, until Merlin came along, and uprooted everything he had grown to know.

“One day he will see,” Merlin whispered into the rain, “One day,” he sounded like a scorned lover.

Perhaps he was, but he held no hatred. He would no obsess over it, not now at least. He let his head fall, the rain dripping from his raven hair. He rested an arm on his knee, letting one leg dangle over the stone edge of Arthur’s home as he held the journal in his hand, the wet parchment becoming heavy as he dangled it next to his leg. He didn’t feel welcome back inside the home, no one wanted him.

He could hear the whispers, their voices traveling the halls, their anger filling the air around the home. Of course, he didn’t blame them. If he would have used his head, he could have avoided all of this. The war at their doorstep, the emptiness in his heart. But he was selfish.

He avoided the talk of William, he failed to help look for clues and recall Mordred. Though Merlin was still unsure if his motivations were solely based on his dead lover, a man who was no better than the imp Mordred was.

“I feel like we’re in some episode of a TV drama,” Lance’s voice echoed in the rain. “You two never fail to have some sort of…” He stopped talking as he sat next to Merlin, his eyes little more than slits as he attempted to see through the rain. “This is depressing,” Lance rolled his eyes, more so for his remark than the situation.

“Why are you here?”

“Why are you not down there?” Lance motioned to the group of people, sitting around a neatly built fire beneath a porch across from them, their smiles and laughter drowned by the rain.

Merlin did not answer. “Jesus dude,” Lance said. “Grow up,” he shook his head. “So, what you didn’t tell us about William still being alive? Or that you knew Mordred’s motivations. It’s happened. Now put on your big boy panties and fucking own it.”

“I could have prevented all of this, Lance.”

“Don’t be such a prat, we don’t need any more of those,” he sighed. “It’s not about you or what you could have done or even should have.”

“No? Then what? I’m supposed to let him go? Just like that? Forget what I had done?”

Lance rubbed the bridge of his nose, his brown hair equally as wet as Merlin’s now. “You’ve grown stupid with your age,” he said. “It’s done with. You can’t change the past, but you can learn from it. Use it to your advantage. You know the problem, now solve it.”

“What if I’m the problem?”

Lance rolled his eyes, so far Merlin was sure the Earth would change rotation. “Did I ever tell you about the fight that almost ended my relationship with Guinn?” He didn’t wait for a response. “I purchased a new bike, this sweet Kawasaki Ninja 650R, my dream bike. For weeks all I did was focus on my bike, all I thought about was what next part I was going to get for it, saving up money, spending hours in the garage changing the wheels, exhaust, hell, even the decals.”

“I had been so focused on my bike, Guinn had become second place. At least in her mind. She was probably right, but don’t tell her that,” Merlin couldn’t help but smile. “I had been so focused on the bike, I had forgotten our anniversary. Shitty, I know, but she said nothing about it, she let it go. She surprised me with these new drag wheels, but I thought she had done it just to do it. Then, a few more weeks roll by and her birthday comes and goes,” he shook his head. “That was the final straw for her. She came home form work, tired, her uniform disheveled. She tossed down her weapon and badge down loud enough for me to know she was home. Then, she approached me, tears running down her face.”

“She is such an amazing woman, no ultimatum, nothing like that. She simply said, ‘If you wish, I can go. I am no longer the first thing you think of when you wake up, when you sleep. I will make this decision easy for you, so you can focus on something you actually love.’ She didn’t yell, she didn’t scream, but I knew she was serious. In that moment, I had never felt more of a failure then when she asked if I wanted her to go, because I had forgotten about her.  I lost track of what life really meant to me. The bike? There was always going to be a new bike, but Guinn…there would never be another Guinn, not ever. The universe would be too scared to make another one of her.” He sighed, laying a hand on Merlin’s wet shoulder. “Don’t forget why you’re here Merlin, that’s my point. You are here for him, no matter how much of a prat he is, or how much you mess up. You love him, and he loves you – nothing will ever get in the way of that as long as you don’t allow it to.”


“Aye, welcome to the party!” Guinn said, slurring and tossing some liquor on the couch beside her.

Merlin smiled at her before taking a seat next to Arthur, who also seemed to be a bit intoxicated. “What’s the occasion?” Merlin asked.

“Well, the end is Nye!” Percy said slamming his glass on the stone ledge of the fire pit. “We have the upper hand.”

“I see,” Merlin smiled, looking at Arthur from the corner of his eye.

Arthur was leaned over, resting his elbows on the tops of his knees as he stared into the cackling fire. “Yeah, no thanks to you,” he said under his breath, quickly chasing it with a shot of his vodka.

Despite the pain in his heart, he did not say anything, now was not the time.

“So,” Elyan said, “What’s the plan?”

Merlin almost fainted. Elyan. What in the bloody hell was he doing here? “Elyan?”

“The one and only,” he rose his glass before taking a large gulp from it. “How long has it been?”

“A couple hundred years, I think?” He laughed. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you,” Merlin smiled back.

“So, the plan?”

“We need to find Khilgarrah,” Merlin said.

“And probably start looking for those in the council who are on the side of Mordred and Morgana,” Lance added.

“I thought everything was good with the council?” Merlin asked.

“Yes, but Mordred has been here for years, who knows how many people he has on his side.”

Amongst all of the chatter, Arthur was still silent, his eyes not having averted from the fire. Merlin must have broken him.

“Don’t be a prick, you didn’t break me.” Merlin heard in his mind.

He had the urge to look over at Arthur, but he refrained. Merlin knew it was not Arthur speaking to him, he would feel him. This was different. Arthur was in such emotional turmoil; his emotions were seeping into the mind of his mate. Did Arthur know?

“Arthur, stop. Your thoughts are too loud.” Merlin warned him.

Arthur was probably too drunk to realize what he was doing. Merlin could see his head snap to the side, his eyes wide as he looked at his mate. Merlin gave him a soft smile, but Arthur turned away again, his face cold.

“Fuck you,” Merlin knew he was intended to hear that one.

“Fine, but in front of everyone?” Merlin smirked taking a sip of some whiskey Gawaine had kindly poured for him.

Food was something they could not handle, but alcohol…well, let’s just say they could drink the sun dry. They can get drunk, but there are no hangovers and it only lasts a few hours. Its more of a drug for vampires than anything else.

“As long as I get to feel your thick, hard, cock in me, I don’t care where it is.”

Merlin spewed his drink everywhere, the silent chatter stopping. They all faced him as he coughed, covering his mouth in an attempt to hide the smile on his face. Merlin couldn’t believe how careless drunk Arthur was, but it was amusing. Merlin, however, would not take him like this, not when there was so much undiscussed.

“You good?”

“Mhhm, yes. Alright,” he raised his glass before coughing again, looking at Arthur who was smirking, a devilishly handsome grin across his lips.

“Hey,” Guinn said, the small conversations that started having stopped again, her tone low and serious. “Who is William?”

Merlin sucked in a sharp breath, his face going red. He was embarrassed, just…caught off guard. He figured Arthur would have asked, though he read the stories, the journal entries. He knew who he was, but those were the writings of a madman. When Arthur was ready, he would…he didn’t know what he would do.

Merlin sat up now, his back straight, his eyes looking into the fire. “He was…a friend. Ealdor, that’s where I lived at the time, a small farming village that laid near the boarder of Camelot, but it was still within the kingdom. Most people didn’t even know existed, though patrols often stayed at the inn, but even that was rare.”

“Ealdor? That’s now one of the largest, and most prestigious horse training facilities in the world, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Arthur interjected, the first word he had spoken when Merlin joined them.

“It was all farming land then, I don’t even think horses were in the village,” Merlin closed his eyes, attempting to remember, the faded visions of the past not quite clear. “Will, he was the innkeeper. The first kind face I had seen when I arrived.”

“Disgusting,” Merlin could again hear the thoughts of Arthur slip into the crevasses of his mind.

“I wasn’t going to stay long. This was when the Blood Hunters were fist organized by the then king, coincidently, Arthur’s family, his Great Grandfather, plus some,” Merlin looked at Arthur but there was no emotion on his face. “They didn’t know who I was at the time, but they were smart, they knew what to look for. I wanted to avoid them for as long as possible.”

“They Blood Hunters never really knew of you, right? You more of a Myth than fact?” Lance asked.

“Yes. The Covens were the ones trying to hunt me. When I did come across Blood Hunters, the ones that found out, they just assumed I was any other Vampire. They didn’t keep records like they do today, they only documented the ones they were confirmed to kill, things like that. It was easier then,” he admitted, taking another sip from his drink.

“The man, the myth, the legend,” Elyan bellowed out, his laughter forcing the flames to split.

“I didn’t really talk to anyone much at my stay, but I did converse with William in the later evenings when the bar in the inn was empty. He was well read, but he wanted to experience the world for himself, explore. We had become close, but it was no choice of our own.”

“How is there no choice in how people become close?” Arthur snapped, the tension slapping Merlin in the face like a whip.

“The same way a child has no choice of his family. The child will always be close to their guardian, it may not be eternal, but at one point, they were,” Merlin snapped back at the idiot boy next to him. “The Blood Hunters had made their way through the village, escorted by knights from Camelot,” Merlin said only slightly harsher than appropriate. “They were walking through homes, questioning people. I asked for assistance in escaping, and he said yes, with one condition, he came along.”

“How did you escape?” Guinn asked, slurring her words more than before.

“On my horse. He slipped us out of the back of the inn and to where the horse was hitched, and we were gone, before they even knew we were there.”

“Such a great story,” Arthur rolled his eyes before finishing his drink and leaving.

Merlin didn’t say anything to the group, he stood just as quickly as Arthur and followed him, the warmth of the fire quickly fading from his previously cold flesh. Arthur was walking quickly, his steps sure as they pounded into the stone pathway.

Even from behind he looked like a god, his strong shoulders, the stone strength and power that emanated from his back. “Arthur, please, wait,” Merlin called out, his voice seeming to be carried away by the wind.

“Leave me alone,” Arthur snapped.

Merlin jogged forward, reaching out for the flesh he so desired. When he did touch him, Arthur snapped his arm back and turned sharply, the stone beneath his feet creaking at the force. “I said leave me alone,” he said again, the aggression no longer in his voice.

“Can you please let me explain?”

Arthur took a single step forward, and as before, pushed Merlin away. Merlin again let him. He let the force of his hands move his stone frame, his flesh rippling under the touch. He let him because it was something. It, in some way, meant he still cared.

“I’ve heard enough of your explaining,” Arthur growled, pushing him again.

“Why are you so offended by what happened?” Merlin questioned, his mind unbale to comprehend the actions of his mate.

He understood why he would be hurt, but not to this degree, not in a million years. Hands again made contact with his chest, his legs being pushed back once more, his bare feet dragging from the stone and into the mud. “Because Merlin!” He was yelling now. “The thought of you with someone else…” his eyes were searching Merlin’s, looking for some understanding within them. “Before me? You wrote about him, your love for him. What if you do the same to me?”

Merlin was confused, Arthur not quite making sense. “Do what? Leave you?”

“You already have,” he replied, his hands again touching Merlin’s chest, but there not force this time. “For three years, then again recently. How am I supposed to cope with knowing that one day, you may never come back? What if this is all a lie? He trusted you! I trusted you.”

“You still can, Arthur,” Merlin reached up to grasp the frigid hands at his chest. “I will never leave you.”

Arthur shook his head. “I thought…I thought I was the first, Merlin. It made me feel special, worth something.”

“Do not place your worth on me, that is unfair to you. You are special, magnificent, all on your own.” Merlin took a step towards him, timid and slow. He did not want to spook the boy. “In my eyes, you are a king.”

“But what if you do the same to me,” his body shook, his head dipping, those blonde locks of hair falling over his face. “I’m terrified of you, Merlin. Of what we are, of what this all means.”

Merlin reached up to grasp Arthur’s chin, forcing him to look, to see that he would not. He wanted him to believe that, but he was unsure how. The circumstances of William were drastically different than those of Arthur’s. Merlin loved him from the moment he laid eyes on the rude, prattish boy. William…love came after.

“I promise my life to you Arthur,” Merlin said. “William was never deserving of that. I will prove it to you, for the rest of eternity, I will prove that you are worth more than every star in the universe, every breath I have taken and will take. You are my second half, we are two halves of the same coin, Arthur. We belong together.”

Arthur couldn’t help but smile, though it was small. Merlin still noticed. “What happens now?”

“We fight for what is ours.”

Arthur kissed him. He did not realize how vacant his lips had felt until that moment, and again it seemed as time had slowed, their lips entangled, fitting together like puzzle pieces. Merlin would never let this go, he couldn’t.

Merlin bit his inner lip, letting his own blood pool into his mouth before he opened it, Arthur’s tongue instinctively finding its way inside. Arthur moaned then, a soft sound which was more of a gasp than a moan. Arthur let the blood fill his own mouth, drinking it down as though he had never tasted something as magnificent.

Merlin could feel his hands getting hot, his skin tingling at the sensation, his head buzzing with nothingness. The bond was solidified now, neither man unable to break away. No matter where they were, what they were doing, the world would know they are taken. Merlin hadn’t realized the bond could grow, but it did, and Arthur felt it too, their life forces no longer individual, but one.

When Arthur broke away, Merlin noticed a strange flash of color across his blue eyes. It was the color his eyes flashed, liquid gold seeping from the pupils like magma form a volcano.

This was it, Merlin, thought. This was what it meant to be made for someone, to belong. His soul was broken, shattered at the seams, but not anymore.

“I love you,” Merlin said.