Disclaimer:
I do not own the rights to Camelot or any of the characters herein.
Merlin and Igraine
I
As Kay unbound his hands and released him, Merlin's first thoughts should have turned to the drama unfolding before him – Arthur confronting Morgan about Bardon Pass. But Merlin could not shake the growing suspicion that Morgan had once again targeted Igraine. He was desperate to find her and thought of nothing else.
"Where is Igraine?" he asked Kay. Kay didn't respond. "Have you seen Igraine?" Merlin asked again. As soon as his hands were free he raced up the stairs and through the halls of Camelot towards Igraine's chamber. His heart stopped when he saw her lying on the floor in the hall – pale and covered in blood.
"No," he whispered. "No!" he cried aloud. He would not accept this. He could not walk away from this. Unlike Uther who was not worth the risk associated with using his power, he would save Igraine – no matter what it cost him.
Even in her pale, weak, and vulnerable state, her beauty and honor was apparent – his queen. She protested, but he would not let her go. He summoned every source of power in his being, and worked it until he collapsed.
Merlin awoke and found himself once again in his rafters room, surrounded by maps and drawings. He felt physically weak and emotionally empty. He had no idea what day it was – he only remembered what he had been doing before apparently blacking out.
"Igraine," he said out loud. Had he succeeded? Was she alive? He couldn't remember.
Merlin sat up and two sensations overtook him - hunger and his foul smell. He quickly remedied both, finding a small, stale, loaf of bread and walking out to the sea to bathe. He felt he needed to clear his head before facing the world, Camelot, and before learning Igraine's fate. The cold water instantly revived him, and soon he was clean and becoming chilled. He emerged onto the beach to dry off and don clean trousers. As he was lacing up his boots, he heard her voice.
"We were worried about you," she said simply, standing approximately twenty yards away in the short grass that bordered the sand. His head snapped up at the sound of her voice. He saw her – he heard her – but then a horrifying feeling spread through him. It was entirely possible it was Morgan. Maybe because he had been fooled once – the one time he had allowed himself to open up – and he knew he was currently in a similarly vulnerable state – he instinctively became overly guarded. He couldn't think of anything to say because in that instant, he couldn't decide whether to assume it was Morgan or not. Truth be told, he desperately wanted to run to her, kiss her, hold her … but he was terrified that he might be hurt yet again. He maintained his composure and remained silent.
"You disappeared for seven days," she said softly, seemingly concerned.
"You know where I go, where I was. Did you not look for me?" He was measured in his response. He did not want to give Morgan too much information if it was her.
"Merlin, you made it very clear that I am not welcome in your world when you are wallowing in self pity." Her words were sharp. Was she angry with him, he wondered. His suspicion that the person that stood before him might be Morgan was fading. Morgan could not know that Merlin had rejected Igraine in his post-magic funk weeks ago, could she?
Letting his guard down for a moment, he asked quietly, "What … what did I do to you?" He did not remember how he ultimately left her in the hallway seven days ago. Had he hurt her? Had she resisted his effort to save her?
"You exposed me to the dark side of your power before bringing me back," she said, "and then you disappeared and left me to deal with it – alone." She was whispering now.
He looked at her, knowing it was Igraine. He started to walk toward her, but she stepped back, apparently wanting to keep her distance. "I asked you not to do it," she said, more of a question than a statement. "Why did you not listen? I … I am not equipped to handle this darkness. I don't know what to do with what I saw – what I now know." She was visibly upset.
"Igraine …" his voice pleading with her. "Please …" He needed to touch her, hold her – he needed it. "Please … I couldn't let you go," he whispered. "Please … I need you – here – with me." She did not move – not towards him but also not back as he slowly walked to her. "I thought I would be the one to suffer from my action. I'm sorry – please …" Still slowly moving towards her, his clean tunic remained in his hand as he had not yet put it on.
Despite her confusion and internal turmoil, she was not unaware of the pang of desire she suddenly felt for this mysterious, attractive man who was approaching her, clean and shirtless. Nonetheless, she remained where she was.
"It was selfish – completely and utterly selfish – I admit it. I was prepared to accept the consequences, but … I am so sorry that I exposed you to the consequences. I am sorry. Please …" He was now standing in front of her – close, but not close enough to touch her. He was waiting for her permission.
She shook her head. "I know you didn't want that, but what do I do now? What's done is done." She still did not move. She wanted to go to him, to reunite, to be comforted – but she felt glued to the ground. Instead, he took two steps toward her, reaching to her face, tentatively as always.
"I am here now. I can't take it back, can't undo it." He softly stroked her hair. "I don't want to undo it. There is nothing for me here if you are not part of this."
More pangs of desire coursed through Igraine as Merlin's slender, strong hand alternated between her cheek and her hair. He had dropped his tunic into the grass. She stepped to him, closing the small gap that had been between them. Still, she had learned her lesson weeks ago – she did not initiate any contact. He framed her face with both hands. He pressed against her as he lightly kissed her forehead, eyes, temples, cheek – her entire face. She badly wanted to taste his lips – his lips that he had denied her the last time they were so close. But she waited for him to get there. He kissed her neck, her collar bone, her chin … closer. Finally Merlin kissed Igraine. After so much, after turning away from her, then giving himself to her only to find out it had been Morgan, and then almost losing her … he finally had her – Igraine – in his arms. It was even more intense than when he was with Morgan.
She melted into him immediately when his lips met hers. Her hands to his chest and then to the back of his head – she eagerly drank him in – tongues dancing.
They stood in the short grass embracing, tenderly kissing for many minutes, his arousal apparent and hers growing stronger – but he was hesitant to go further. Was he afraid of overstepping her boundary or was it the taint of Morgan?
Igraine, however, did not hesitate. She began to unlace his trousers. He was surprised – maybe because he didn't expect her to assert herself or maybe because he still thought he might be dreaming… He groaned softly and snapped back into action, gently guiding her down into the soft, short grass, taking care to untie the back of her dress and pull it down off of her shoulders. He trailed kisses down her neck, chest, and shoulders, moving garments out of his way in the process. Even though he had covered every inch of this body eight days ago, he wanted to experience every inch of her again - for real this time. Unlike with Morgan, Igraine seemed to react to every kiss, every touch. Perhaps it was because Igraine had not been with anyone other than selfish, brutish men who had not cared whether they pleased her – or maybe it was because Morgan was manipulating him when they were together and at least some of her actions and reactions were contrived … whatever the reason, this was far more satisfying for Merlin.
Igraine was experiencing real pleasure and arousal for the first time in her life. Yes, she had grown to love her former husbands, but the first time she was with both of them, they claimed her quickly and paid no attention to her needs. This – this was unbelievable. Merlin was worshiping her body – slowly traveling southbound, placing soft kisses over every inch of her. And it was this man – this mysterious, intense, beautiful, fascinating man with whom she had been flirting, for whom she had been falling… Pure delight, and oh, he had reached the place just below her navel … her desire was hot now. For the first time in her life she desperately wanted this – needed it.
Merlin had been peeling Igraine's dress down an inch at a time, but it was now very much in his way. He slid back up to meet her mouth and reached behind her to fully unlace the bodice. Then, running his hands down her torso, he smoothly slid the whole dress down past her legs, and tossed it to the side. He quickly returned to Igraine's soft lips, having been away too long. Now he had only a few scant undergarments to contend with, and he quickly rid her of them.
Igraine broke the kiss to work on removing his clothes. She absolutely despised it when men didn't bother to take their clothes off before satisfying themselves – it seemed a way for them (even her husbands) to keep control and assert even more dominance. But Merlin was happy to allow her to disrobe him. He let her strip him and then pulled her on top of him, putting her in the dominant position. He reached up to stroke her perfect breasts and then slid his hands between her thighs which were straddling his stomach.
"Please, Igraine. I need you…" he said softly. He flicked her a few times, stroked a few more, and he could feel her arousal.
"Mmmm…" she purred, head back, eyes closed. As much as Merlin wanted to be inside of her, he was completely turned on by her reaction, so he continued to pay attention to her with his hands. He brought her close a least twice, but both times she leaned forward to kiss him and back him off. She wanted to save it for when he was inside of her – something she had never experienced with any other man – they never cared enough to bring her so close. While she was exploring his mouth with her tongue, she slid back slightly and found him, willing and waiting. Sparks of pleasure shot through her as he slid into her – warm, wet, and ready. She leaned back, hands on his thighs, his at her waist, and it took only four long strokes before waves of pleasure crashed over her – and they coming as he continued to thrust inside of her. "Mmmmm … Merlin … don't stop," she breathed. She glanced down at him after the intense waves returned to smaller jolts of pleasure and saw his eyes were closed, a look of contentment on his face. She continued to ride him closer to his climax, leaning down to kiss him again. His eyes flew open and he groaned into her mouth. He lost all control and finished in a few long, hard strokes, groaning with pleasure.
When he was still, he kissed her face softly and caressed her back. "My queen," he said smiling – something he rarely did.
She repositioned herself so that she was lying flat on him and slowly traced a few light circles on his face. "My sorcerer," she said, before nestling into his arms.