Pairing: Always-a-girl!Merlin/Arthur (established relationship)

Genre: Canon AU/AR, Genderbending, Romance, Fluff, (Original version is a smutty PWP)

Tags: Possessive behaviour, jealousy, petnames, sweet!Arthur

Notes: Originally posted on my AO3 (link on my profile), where you'll find the sex scene of the story. Due to FFNet policies explicit sex isn't allowed on here.

That said...this is my first ever work in the Merlin fandom. I've only seen 4 seasons and a few snippets of the 5th. English isn't my first language. I fell in love with the idea of girl!Merlin in fandom and wanted to try it out because genderbending is a fav thing of mine to do in whatever fandom I'm in.

Anyway, that said...this took on a life of it's own. It's basically porn with no regard to plot or historical accuracy or anything. It borders on purple prose in some places because...uh, IDK, that's where it wanted to go.

So...well. You should know I haven't had this looked over. Between English not being my first language and no beta, please forgive any typos/grammatical errors.

Anyway, enjoy! Hopefully! 8,D

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Sweetheart, You're Mine

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The white blouse had been a gift from one of the squires, back when Merlynn had just begun her new life at Camelot. It had been a flattering if extremely awkward attempt at courting that had thankfully tampered off into nothing, as the Prince slowly started to show favour towards the Court Physician's great-niece who'd ended up saving his life. Merlynn had had much too much on her mind – what with Royal Prats, Great Dragons and Grand Destinies all wrapped up in a tangled knot of magic and lies – to think a lot of it at the time and after a while, it was a faded memory. She'd enjoyed male attentions throughout the following years as well, of course, for despite her rather thin frame she was pretty enough when she wasn't falling over her own feet.

But unlike the few pretty ribbons and dried flowers she kept as fond mementos of these dalliances doomed to fail before they ever really began, the blouse along with one scandalous piece of underthings had been shoved far back in the small chest she reserved for her few belongings. There were rare occasions, when she had little else on hand, that the blouse (never the underthings, no, best not think of those and the old letch whom had gifted it) found itself paired with a tattered skirt with nothing else to wear. Normally, she'd never had anything against it but it was a size too small – especially a few years down the road – and clung in ways she'd never felt too comfortable with for neither movement nor appearance.

This was, unfortunately, one of those rare occasions, as she was escorted by a bored Crown Prince and his Knights to collect Gaius' specific herbs a three day ride from Camelot. "A great opportunity for hunting," Arthur had said gleefully the day before, vehemently denying Merlynn's accusations of just wanting out of court to get away from Lord Birger and his daughters the Lady Kristina and the Lady Lena. Merlynn couldn't blame him, but a full escort of three Knights on top of an Arthur pumped up on the exhilaration of getting out of the castle and his duties for a good hunt was not something Merlynn much looked forward to. The playful approval and appreciation of the Knights as they eyed her in her unfortunate blouse as they set off should've been a sign things were bound to go wrong for her at some point. But, she'd been busy fighting off Arthur's increasingly vigorous attentions that tended to veer off of chivalry and into indecency the more excited he became, or how threatened he felt his claim on her was. After the first day of travelling she'd barely managed to keep him from dragging her off of her own horse and onto his, to sit cradled between his arms and resting against his chest like some faint maiden. It was ridiculous. But after most of the second day, nothing less but her magic would've kept her Prince from wrapping her up in his coat in a fit and riding ahead of their escort.

As she'd taken a friendly shove during their rest stop and promptly spilled a bowl of water down her white-clad front before the apologetic eyes of a Knight, who ended up pleasantly surprised at being able to confirm her lack of bindings, Merlynn wasn't much in a mood to complain. Indignant and mortified, she much preferred being wrapped up in Arthur's possessive embrace, hidden beneath his warm cloak while amusing herself with keeping track of how many times her Prince clenched his jaw in barely suppressed temper.

"They mean no harm, you know," she said after a while, the horse calmed down to a steady pace even as her cheeks still burned. "They know I'm yours."

"Then they shouldn't look at you like that," is his steady reply, so matter-of-fact it made her snort.

"Like a pretty face and an ample bosom haven't turned your head over the years." Merlynn rolled her eyes, feeling him tense behind her. "And I find plenty of your men quite handsome, and many of the servants are—"

His left arm that had been snug around her waist, anchoring her to Arthur's chest and keeping his cloak firmly in place, tightened as he pressed his nose into her cheek and bit sharply at the ridge of her right ear, making her squeak. "—Do you wish for me to lock you in my chambers and never let you out again, little falcon? To cage you?" he growled, nosing down her cheek and nuzzling against her arched neck as she bared it for him, heavy plaid slung over her left shoulder already freeing his way. "Because I can do that."

Even as she enjoyed his lips brushing against her skin and squirmed under his left hand as it wandered from her hip up to her breasts, she snapped her sharp elbow back into his stomach on principle alone. "Prat," she muttered, biting down on a sigh as his large, warm hand squeezed her through the thick fabric of his cloak and the still damp, threadbare fabric of her blouse. "You're missing the point, as usual."

"If the point is that you make eyes at other men and that you don't mind them eying you up, then I don't think I want to know," he grumbled in response, rubbing at her gently with his thumb as his hand cupped her right breast.

"Oh, you clotpole," she groaned, letting her head fall back to rest on his left shoulder. "I meant that it doesn't matter, because no one is acting on anything, since there is nothing to act on. You think Gwen is pretty, don't you?" He made a noise of protest at that, but she merely elbowed him again with a laugh. "Shut up, I know you do. And she is very pretty. But you're not tucking her arm through yours taking her on moonlit walks, or even gifting her with flowers or dragging her into corners for a kiss, now are you?"

Arthur made a disapproving noise against her temple, resting his lips there in a whisper of a kiss. "You know very well I'd do no such thing."

Satisfied, Merlynn turns her head slightly, dislodging him a bit to nuzzle up under his chin with a smile. "Exactly. You wouldn't, I wouldn't and they most certainly would not if they fancy their heads staying on."

Grinning, Arthur leaned back and trailed his hand up to envelop her throat and angle her jaw with an insistent thumb for a kiss. He hummed against her lips, eyes closed and trusting his steed to steer them down the dirt road, before breaking off with a smirk. "My sword is rather sharp."

"Mmm," Merlynn grinned, wriggling in her seat where she sat astride the top of the saddle. "And with my magic, they wouldn't know what had hit them."

"They'd better not," he muttered in reply before sliding his hand back down drape across her waist and rest on the swell of her hip, while his other gripped the reins more firmly as he urged to horse on to a quicker pace. His grasp of her tightened when the horse jerked into action, as if it would be possible to tuck her in any closer than she already was. "Now try to stay out of trouble until we come across a good place for camp this evening. The Knights will keep their distance for now and I plan on taking full advantage of this tonight. Rest while you can, you'll need it."

Merlynn grinned to herself, satisfied with being so comfortably seated and no longer having to deal with the men egging each other on for a pointless hunt while she tagged on bored out of her skull, trying to look impressed by their posturing. She could've done without revealing herself to Sir Leon through the sheerness of threadbare, white fabric when soaked, but ultimately... Arthur wasn't the only one eager to escape the castle and its prying eyes.

As the sun travelled lower on the sky Arthur found his troublesome cargo had fallen asleep, uselessly lax in his embrace. He smiled fondly, burying his nose in her messy curls that had long since started a daring escape from the plaid she'd hastily put together before they left camp that morning. The familiar scent of her hair (Gaius' herbs and the fading hint of the flowery oils Arthur had gifted her with, dulled by the smoke of campfire) added to the peaceful mood which had befallen him after she'd fallen quiet and his temper had been mellowed by her softness against him and the increasing distance between them and his Knights. The early summer's warmth was pleasant, the winds placid and thickening with the scents of a blooming forest, as the familiar sounds of the wilderness surrounded them. His horse's steady pace and strong presence further lulled him into a pleasant state of mind, though he remained vigilant of possible threat even now. Or, as it were, especially now, what with what – whom – he carried. A treasure well sought after, even by those who wouldn't know her true worth.

Shaking his head at such fanciful thoughts, Arthur straightened in his seat and turned his full attention to their surroundings. It would be wise to put up camp soon, even if it wasn't growing terrible late just yet. They were in no rush, the vapid guests back in Camelot had for once little demand on his presence; Lord Birger less of a friend to Camelot and more of a simpering annoyance, with girls young and ill-behaved enough to not even merit a passing possibility for negotiations of marriage. He'd been glad to leave such headaches behind, if only to be able to sweep Merlynn away for tender touches and petty bickering, which normally wouldn't have been a problem even under his Father's disapproving eye (for it was rather blind, when it came to this; Arthur had made sure of that). Lord Birger's daughters, however, had commandeered both of their attentions by simply being around every corner with requests or unwanted conversations.

As it were at present however, Arthur would have to burn every single piece of white clothing his little sorceress possessed and promptly replace them with the simple, modest dressing she preferred. If he were to add some embroidery and finer linens, surely she couldn't blame him (she would). When she'd turned up in that blasted thing he'd known there'd be trouble, as it always is when it comes to her, but this time he'd set out with a different kind of headache than the one he'd hoped to leave behind the day before. Alone now, and calmed, Arthur was quite enjoying himself. He'd even found them a good spot for setting up camp, a little further off the less-travelled road; ground soft with a good smattering of trees around, along with a decent-sized boulder to have at his back.

Pulling the horse up to a stop, he surveyed the area and nodded in satisfaction; now to wake the slumbering mess in his arms. Arthur grinned, entertaining the thought of letting her slip out of his grip and catching her before she fell off completely – she'd make such delightfully indignant noises, squawking and flailing while cursing his existence. But he was in a quiet mood, inspired by the land around him, and her sleepy warmth cradled against him for hours when it had been days since they'd had a chance for such prolonged contact, had him reluctant to part from her pliant form. As sizzling and crackling with energetic power his sorceress usually was, Arthur found himself headily charmed by her gentle moments of peaceful contentment. They were rare outside the closed doors of his chambers, or the empty spaces of woods, and rarer still as magical and non-magical foes sought them both destruction even now.

And so instead, he released the reins and slipped another arm around her relaxed form, hugging her close as he leant down and buried his nose in the warm, soft space behind one of her ridiculous ears. She stirred, sensing the lack of the horse's rhythmic movement and well as the increasing focus of the presence enveloping her. He kissed her skin, strand of hair sticking to his lips and making him smile.

"Wake up, sweetheart," he mumbles, breathing in deep and enjoying how she moved so easily with him. Another kiss, as his hands travelled her body, gentling her to wakefulness. "Come on, there you go..."

A murmur of confusion and inquiry slipped past Merlynn's lips as she woke for him, eyes no doubt fogged over with sleep though he could not see their unfocused struggle to take in the brightness of late afternoon. He imagined her dark lashes were fluttering over dark, deep blue and heaved a soft sigh as he waited for her to gather her wits. She breathed his name but otherwise remained relaxed in his embrace, seemingly sharing his reluctance to move just yet.

"I need you to wake up, little bird," he said after a few moments, regretful. "We'll set up camp and have something to eat, then you can rest some more."

Yawning, Merlynn tensed up for a stretch in his arms, already nodding. "Mm, yes," she said, turning to steal a quick kiss. "Though I imagine I've had enough rest for today." With that, she slipped out of his grip with ease and landed unsteadily on the ground. Smiling coyly up at him and blinking wide, blue eyes like she had even one innocent bone in her body, the hussy, she got to work on their packing.

"I'll take care of this," he said, once he'd dismounted and taken their packs and bedrolls from her. "You deal with the campfire and dinner, you horrid woman."

She wrinkled her nose at him, her sleepiness all gone as she grinned wide suddenly. "Mm yes, dinner. I imagine you'll need the strength for tonight, since you got little rest yourself," she teased, dancing out of reach and already heading out to collect wood for the fire. "I seem to recall a promise of energies well spent tonight, beloved, I would hate for you to go back on your word because of bad stamina!"

"Horrid," he repeated with a dark glare as she disappeared out of sight with the sound of delighted giggles echoing around them. He made quick work of their bedrolls and sacks, done by the time she returned and set up their fire. The teasing glint in her eyes was still there but the mood had settled as they fell into routine, contentment seeping into their very bones.

As their dinner had been fished out and served, Arthur had leaned back against the boulder they'd camped by, bread and cheese on his plate in one hand while his other tugged Merlynn close to rest along his chest again. She sat comfortably between his spread legs, eating quietly and staring into the fire. Arthur finished his meal first, setting his plate aside, and reached up to tackle her travel-worn hair since she always complained how tangled it got if she didn't renew her plaid every morning and every night. For now though, he simply undid it to comb his fingers through it; enjoying its length and gentle curls, warm and soft against his sword-calloused hands. He'd turn it messy before he straightened it out by the end of the night, and by the annoyed huff from the young woman she knew it all too well. Arthur smirked, gathering up her tresses and twisting them around then over her left shoulder to bare her neck and throat for a hot line of sucking kisses that had her dropping her empty plate with a gasp.

"No marks, or I'll have to start wearing my neckerchiefs again," she threatened, slightly breathless. He paused to suckle gently at a shoulder he'd bared by shoving fabric out of the way with his nose, nibbling thoughtfully as he considered his options. On the one hand, the awful fabrics she'd used to tie around her neck like a farmboy deprived him of the sight of her slender, pale neck and throat as he stole glances of her throughout the day. But on the other hand, it also concealed any marks he'd leave behind so he might not see them or even her bare neck, but he'd know they would be there and – well. He'll just have to indulge in as much of her bare skin as possible before they returned to Camelot, then savour the knowledge that underneath her clothing would be the evidence of his physical claim.

"Mmm," he sighed with contentment, decision made, and promptly bit down hard; tightening his hold of her when she jerked in response. The drawn-out moan he got in reward simply proved he'd made an excellent choice. Licking her abused skin, kissing it softly, he let his hands wander.

-DELETED SEX SCENE-

Arthur took a shaky breath, still stupid on pleasure but mindful enough to lower them gently to the ground on their sides. He tucked his knees up behind her thighs, leaving them connected with her rump cradled against his hips, arms still tight around her as they caught their breath.

"Come here," he breathed, sliding a hand up to angle her face towards him, leaning up and over her to make it less of a strain. "Little falcon." He kissed her lazily, the manic need he'd had for her the past few days simmering down to a more familiar burning hum. He felt her fingers tangle in his hair and sighed, enjoying the softness of her plump lips and the warmth of her everywhere.

"Couldn't you have at least taken us to the bedrolls?" she grumbled as he finally let her go. "For someone who sleeps on a bed of feathery downs, you're awfully fond of hard, flat surfaces."

Grinning, he nipped at her ear. "Only to pin you to them." He sensed her roll her eyes without seeing it, but settled in contently when she let it go. He'd let her rest for a while before taking them to their temporary bedding. He fully intended to follow through on his vows; they had a lot of catching up to do, and he had a lot of pale skin left to mark.

"Sweetheart," he pressed into the skin behind her ear, a soft whisper of a kiss. He closed his eyes to the sound of her soft sigh, smiling at the way her hands grasped at his in a gentle squeeze before they went lax in sated contentment.

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