Chapter warnings:

Dubious consent

Age difference

Dubious morals

The First, Last and All In Between

1

Merlin ran his finger idly around the rim of his cup, tuning out the voices surrounding him as he thought back. He remembered his first, remembered it as though it were only yesterday...

It was his first week in Camelot and truth be told he was beginning to wonder if it was even worth staying here, for as much as he loved the bustle of life all around him, it was wearying especially when he could only ever be on the outside looking in.

Then there were the knights, nobles, guards, all those who lived within the citadel, in their finery, heads held high comfortable with their stations in life. He, however, stuck out like a sore thumb.

This day was not looking to be any more promising than the last.

He was delivering potions for Gaius, the old man believing it was better for him to have something to do 'to keep you out of trouble!' as the old man had put it, he was probably right but Merlin doubted that wandering aimlessly around this giant castle, continuously getting lost, was really something worthwhile to be doing.

Still, he huffed a sigh, he only had two more deliveries to make and he had finally made it to the right wing, floor and hallway of the Lady Arabella's chambers, which was a relief.

He paused briefly outside her door, running one long fingered hand through his hair before attempting to smoothen out his rumpled tunic. Just because he was of lower status didn't mean he needed to make it look so obvious, despite the cheap homespun clothes he wore.

He lifted his hand and knocked.

"Come in." A feminine voice called out, probably the Lady Arabella herself.

He pushed the door open and stepped into the large chambers. He figured this room was entertaining space, since the only furniture consisted of a large dining table with chairs and several other, more comfortable, looking chairs arranged before a large fireplace. Which was where his gaze came to rest on the Lady Arabella.

She looked to be in her middle years, her curvy figure swathed in a rich blue satin and lace gown, hair the colour of hay though he was sure if you really looked closely there would be lighter strands of grey peeking through.

She was still rather beautiful though, even more so when he realised she wore no face paints, and for a moment his eyes met the speckled green eyes of hers before he shifted his gaze away.

"Um... Gaius sent me with your draught." He held up the small phial, holding it out a little to her.

"Oh. Thank-you." She walked over to him but made no move to take the phial from his still outstretched hand. "I haven't seen you before. Are you new to Camelot?"

"Yes, m'lady, I'm staying with Gaius." He shook the bottle still in his hand as if to prove his words, before dropping his arm.

"Oh, Gaius is a wonderful man. You're very lucky to be staying with him, you'll learn alot I'm sure. So what's your name?"

"Merlin, my lady." He bobbed his head low in a small bow.

"None of that Merlin, please, call me Arabella or Belle for short."

Belle. Merlin knew quite a bit about languages and after meeting Arabeela and talking to her he thought it a very apt nickname for the lady, whose personality seemed even more lovely than her looks. Beauty indeed.

He felt his cheeks heat a little and dropped his head in embarrassment, though a smile pulled at his lips.

Merlin jumped slightly though as the ladies fingers brushed against his hand, "Was this your last delivery?" She questioned her soft fingers turning his hand over to retrieve the phial, and his head came back up as he shook it, colour still burning his cheeks as her fingers continued to brush idly over his hand and he had to keep from gripping the fragile glass bottle for fear of breaking it.

"N-No." Their eyes were still locked together and he wanted to either look away or break the warm connection of their hands, to be able to pull back so he could breathe. "I-I still have one more to make... t-to Lord Percival."

"Ah, that old goat." Her green eyes twinkled with merriment, warm and open and utterly consuming. "Hmm, perhaps when you are done you would grant me your company for a drink?"

His mouth parted slightly in shock, fingers finally releasing the phial to her so he could pull his hand away, he could feel his whole face burning now, sure he must be bright red.

"I, um... I-I'm not sure..."

"Poppycock! You've just moved here, and... I know a little of loneliness and homesickness myself. Honestly you'd be doing me a great service, not having to join all those arrogant twits this evening."

Merlin couldn't help the chuckle that escaped, Lady Arabella's eyes dancing with delight as they smiled at each other.

"Well then, I would be honoured to save you from such a fate, My Lady." He gave a shallow bow, flicking a glance at her from beneath his lowered lashes in time to see the ladies eyes darken with something he couldn't put a name to. She gave him a large smile though accompanied with a light melodious laugh, so maybe he had imagined it.

Several hours later found him feeling a little drunk, ok maybe a little more than a little. He snorted into his goblet, trying unsuccessfully to hold in a giggle.

Lady Arabella, Belle, had proven herself to be friendly and chatty, she was also a good listener.

He was a little surprised at how open she had been with him, telling him of the death of her husband a few years ago, how she had moved to the citadel in hopes of easing her own loneliness in the wake of such a tragedy, but had been unprepared for the hostile and snooty attitudes in regards of the other nobles at court, which merely solidified his own opinion of them.

She had then lightened up the sombre mood by regaling him with tales of court gossip and he had completely failed to notice the sun sinking below the horizon, had stopped worrying over how 'improper' the situation was. He was only too happy to have finally made a friend. It didn't seem to matter to either that one was a noble and the other a peasant.

He was still unprepared for it when Belle moved closer to him, her eyes locked on his as she slowly lifted a hand to cup his cheek, her thumb gently brushing against his lower lip.

He drew in a short gasp, eyes widening slightly and Arabella shifted her hand so that two of her fingers pressed against his lips, her eyes searching his.

"Ssh, please do not tell me it is wrong to want this, to seek comfort and solace in the arms of someone you like. Just let us have this one night?"

Her pupils were slightly dilated as he looked into her eyes and his body felt warm under his clothes, sure that sweat was pooling under his arms, his back, his palms, even as gooseflesh erupted all over, his breathing a little unsteady.

Belle didn't wait for an answer, seeming to read one in his eyes, before she brought her soft pink lips to meet his, the pressure gentle, sweet and he found himself pressing his lips back against hers, though perhaps a little roughly with his inexperience and haste.

Her hand took the goblet from his and she placed it blindly on the table, the contents spilling a little though neither paid it any heed.

With both hands free he brought them up to hold her face, pressing his lips to hers more firmly, his tongue coming out to lick the taste of sweet wine from her lips, even as his clouded mind tried to tell him this was not a good idea, his brain was no longer in charge.

Her own hands came up to run through his hair, pulling a little on the dark locks as their tongues finally met.

They pulled apart with a gasp and the next thing he knew he had a lapful of Lady Arabella. He stroked his hands down her back as her fingers brushed at the skin of his stomach and up his sides, causing him to shudder, their lips once again locking together, tongues and lips working furiously to devour each other.

She scraped her nails gently down his soft skin, feeling the teasing hint of hidden strength in his surprisingly well defined body, scraping over his nipples and pulling a low delicious moan from him that was instantly swallowed up in their kiss.

His fingers fiddled at her laces, slowly loosening her gown, his only thoughts of trying to reach skin, his body consumed with the need to touch, to feel. His cock had fully hardened and was trapped uncomfortably in his breeches, his whole being yelling out to bury himself in Belle's warm soft folds.

She pulled back once more, her fingers deftly undoing the knot of his breeches, running a palm over the bulge trapped within, rewarding her with another low moan and a shifting of his hips. He was utterly stunning like this. She smiled to herself, freeing his heated erection she spared a moment to take in the sight before her, pleased and surprised at the size and thickness of him before she gave it a quick gentle pull.

He groaned, head dropped back, eyes closed and his hips lifted involuntarily to chase the sensation of her hand on him, Gods it was so different from his own in such an indescribable inexplicable way.

Arabella shifted off him slightly, her hands drawing her skirts up her legs so that when she settled again in his lap his cockhead was brushing up against her clit. They both gasped out at the feeling and her hips moved, his cock sliding between her moist lips, rubbing up against her clit causing sparks of pleasure, her inner walls twitching with desire.

She grasped the base of his prick, holding it steady as she slowly sank down on it, the size causing a brief jolt of unexpected pain/pleasure as it hit up against her cervix causing her to ease back before slowly, tentatively sinking back down in increments until he was fully sheathed within, and she took a moment to just breathe and get used to the feeling. Even then the first few tentative rolls of her hips caused a pang of pain deep in her core, eventually easing to something more pleasurable.

Merlin gripped at her hips as she slowly rocked down on his heated flesh, and despite the wine slightly fogging his mind and the pure carnal desire that had overtaken him their was a small part of him that couldn't believe what he was doing, she must be twice his age and she's a noble, but none of that mattered, only the rocking of their hips, the feel of her walls clenched tight around him, the scent in the air from their coupling and the sweat that was rolling down both their bodies.

If it weren't for the brief flickers of pain that crossed her delicate features he doubted he would have been able to prevent himself from just rutting into her like an animal until he spent, as it was, he brought her face down so their lips could meet.

Eventually their kiss had broken though he cradled her head to his neck as he kissed at her hair, her neck, her shoulder anywhere his lips could reach as he clung onto her tightly, the frantic movements of her hips, accompanied by small bitten off moans mingled with their panting breaths, and she started biting and mouthing at his neck.

Her body started to tense, stomach muscles fluttering at the growing pressure until she was crying out with her release, her eyes squeezed shut as her body wracked with tremors.

He moved his hands back to her hips, gripping with a bruising force as he finally thrust his hips up into her pliant, still quaking body as she shuddered through the aftermath of her orgasm. Her inner walls gripping him tight as they clutched, spasmodically, at his aching flesh, until with a final thrust of his hips he felt himself tip over the edge, spilling deep inside her.

He had seen her a few evenings later, at the 'celebration' feast, chatting with a couple of other ladies, and though he hadn't been close enough to hear what was being said he was pretty sure it was about him, what with the way they kept looking over at him.

He was however close enough later on to hear prince prat enquiring as to her husband's approaching return from a long border patrol. Her husband...

Her husband... whom she had told him had died...?

He couldn't believe it, couldn't understand why she had lied... and over something like that? Why had she...? They had...

Gods, he was an idiot!

"Merlin?" Gwaine's voice pulled him from his thoughts and he lifted his head to look around at his friends.

"Hmm?"

"What about you? Who was your first?" Gwaine asked, taking a long swallow from his cup.

"Why are you asking Merlin? I doubt he's even kissed a woman, never mind ..." Arthur trailed off with some rather elaborate hand gestures, that Merlin could have lived without, as the others all chuckled.

Merlin was apparently drunk, maudlin and/or offended enough to actually answer, even though his fuzzy mind informed him he would regret it in the morning.

"Lady Arabella." He muttered quietly, a sad note to his tone and the chuckling instantly cut off as though he'd gone temporarily deaf. "It was my first week in Camelot and I... I thought she was nice, friendly... different. Gods I was such an idiot."

He raised his cup to his lips, draining the contents in a series of gulps before slamming it back onto the table, fingers still clutching it tight.

"Merlin! The lady Arabella is well just that... A LADY! Not to mention you know the small fact that she is married! To a knight of this realm. What were you thinking?" Arthur yelled in outrage.

"How was I to know that?" He demanded, old hurt rising to the surface, "She told me her husband had died years ago!"

"Wha- Why?" Arthur spluttered incredulously.

"Hmm, I don't know sire... I wonder what her reasons could have been!" He replied in the most sarcastic tone possible. "If you'll excuse me I still have chores to complete."

He stood only swaying a little and ignoring the drunken protests of his friends and Arthur's indignant yells as he quickly fled the kings chambers, making his way down to Kilgharrah's old prison to brood alone.

Lady Arabella may have been the first but she had certainly not been the last, it was a sad and simple truth that he was a servant... and nobles tended to get what they wanted.

~~~Notes~~~

Hey, so I don't own Merlin :-(

Each chapter will probably carry it's own warning... if I continue with this (not sure yet, I have a few ideas but like fifty other fics "I'm working on"

Anyway hope you enjoyed :-)