This story was written by KateLaurant, and with her permission I translated it into English.
As English is not my first language, there could be grammatical mistakes in places. Please let me know it and I'll correct them, for I don't want to destroy the tone of the original story.
Thanks for reading!

source: post/26b9a4_dea3fcb


He was well versed in hunting "love".

Softening the girls with a tender look, poisoning them with an attractive smile, then killing them with sweet words whispered into their ears, he had never failed in preying. One after another, he took those lily-white hands, caressed those delicate faces, stroked their silky hair, and kissed those ripe mouths. Caught in the trap of his impossible promise and faked ardent love, girls treated him with poured heart, then their lust.

He hunted not for love, however, even not for enjoyment. They were both meaningless terms for an incubus. The only reason was HUNGER. Young girls were fresher than the flowers he tossed; their souls were more fascinating than his own could have ever been; their dreams were more delicious than anything he had eaten. He approached them with a rumbling stomach, sank his fangs into their innocent love, then full and bored, turned away swiftly for the next prey, leaving the battered hearts behind.

Devoid of human feeling, he was sarcastically versed in stirring up them, in OTHER hearts. He was good at hunting love, tricking those hearts into his trap with lies and roses, then feasting.

Yes. He had long been extremely familiar with how to express lust and desire in a human way, but only to appease his hunger. There was no crush or shyness. He didn't produce them. He ate them.

Merlin yawned. It was a sunny day in late spring. The afternoon light, falling exactly on him through the library window, was too warm to keep him awake. He had spent the whole morning hiding around the castle from heavy and boring paperwork, then finally settled himself down here in the guise of an illusion. Pleased by the imagination of Agravain, under the order of King Arthur, burning himself out trying to catch the eternally elusive court magus, Merlin couldn't help laughing. The grin even widened, as he thought of how naked fury would break that ever-icy face.

He removed the illusion for Agravain had searched the library for times, and he wasn't back for a long time. With his head idly resting on the table, eyelids drooping, the magus calculated the possibility of being caught in sleep. It won't hurt to have a nap. He decided.

The door was opened the moment he closed his eyes. Merlin hurriedly pretended to be in sound sleep, wondering who it was. A cleaning woman, a scribe, or Agravain who was made to start a seventh search? It could also be another unfortunate knight that took over the errand, of course.

Yet the approaching footsteps immediately revealed the answer. He had been familiar with the sound since Arturia's early childhood, when the girl often sneaked into his study or the cellar for food. He didn't even need to raise an eyebrow to shatter the little glutton's hope, by calling out her name.

Now he had to call her your highness, though. Merlin made a dangerous attempt to cast a glance from under his arms, and saw a corner of her red cloak as he expected. He maintained the sleep position, despite the butterflies in his stomach. It was rare for Arturia to do the search herself. He closed his eyes again.

He had been playing this hide-and-seek for a long time, but was particularly keen to it in recent days. All of a sudden, he drastically cut down the time of being alone with Arturia, showing up only when summoned for an audience, if it was necessary. He no longer pestered his king all day as he did before, while doubling the time spent on tricking the knights, making alarmist talk to freak them out. Besides that, he would rather flirt with new maids, whispering honeyed words that had been repeated for a thousand times, but somehow their kiss lost usual sweetness. His escape was usually ended by Agravain or Bedivere, who finally succeeded in dragging him to the king, but more often he would end up curling up in a warm chair like a cat, wondering whether Arturia would never come for him, in person.

He had reason to hide from her. Merlin thought with difficulty of that day, when Arturia returned in triumph. As before, he waited for her at the entrance of the castle, then helped his king clean petals people tossed at her along the way. They ambled in the long, quiet corridor, idly discussing the battle, just as before.

Except for a kiss.

He was well versed in hunting "love". Kiss, hug, touch, caress, then more. He knew it so well, and what she gave him on that corridor could hardly even be called a kiss, as it was no more than a light, short lip contact. Surprising, of course, but there was nothing to be embarrassed about. He told himself.

The rustle of her robe recalled Merlin to himself. Aware that she was right beside him, his eyes flew open. Ordinarily she would have woken him up by pulling his hair, but now she made no move. Out of curiosity, Merlin just waited. He heard Arturia murmured something, but couldn't make out the words. The next moment she laid her hand gently on his shoulder. At her touch he nearly trembled.

He really can't understand why. Merlin thought, almost desperately. She ran her fingertips over his nape and through his hair. Put into a fluster by her touch, he felt the nervousness, which had assaulted him on that corridor a few days ago, came to him again and made him as helpless as a human. As she leaned in, the back of his hand was tickled by the ends of her blonde hair. Merlin almost got choked and forgot to pretend to be asleep, when Arturia lifted a lock of his hair, kissing it gently.

He felt a strange squeezing in his chest, and hard to breath. His heart was leaping so high that the rhythm sounded completely strange. Merlin couldn't understand why. He had experienced the sweetest kiss and the gentlest caress, but none could make his mind go blank. It was almost like… a crush.

Arturia was so close to him, and Merlin could smell the faint scent she gave off, reminding him of plants bathed in sunshine. His king put her lips to his ear, and her breath, though tender and warm, felt somehow burning. Her moving fingers stopped beside his face, also nearly stopped his heartbeat at the same time. Then Merlin heard her voice, quiet and calm, even with a rare mischief.

"Are you still thinking about when to wake up?" Arturia asked.

Merlin froze. After a while he straightened up slowly, trying to be composed, or at least appear so. He met her eyes with caution. Arturia was looking down at him with penetrating green eyes, arms crossed.

"I knew you were not sleeping." She said simply.

Finding every reply in his mind too stupid, Merlin held his tongue. It was strange that he was unable to invent any clever gag at the moment, which should have been as natural as breathing to him.

"Er." That was all he could say in the end.

"Agravain had spent the whole day looking for you." She continued as if she did nothing after finding him in this room. "Gawain said Agravain was still trembling with anger. I think you'd better be careful in case of an assassination in the next few days."

Her words didn't sink in. With an intelligible murmur in response, Merlin swallowed, feeling his mouth dry, and another wave of spasm started in his entrails. He couldn't understand why.

"Now that I have caught you, please come back to work." Arturia put her hands down. He could tell an unnamable cheerfulness in her voice. "I also have something to discuss with you, Merlin."

At that moment his mind eventually managed to regain control over his body, and the voice. Merlin nodded in a rare obedience, then stood up. Now it was him that looked down at her, hoping the conversion could help alleviate the riot of his senses.

"Fine. I've taken enough rest." He was relieved to find his voice sounded more normal than he expected. "What do you want to discuss with me? Something about last battle?"

Arturia shrugged. "You can say that." Still busy collecting his thoughts, Merlin didn't notice her overtone. "Before that, I have to dig you out of this room. Come with me."

With these words she turned, and walked to the door.

That was only a kiss, and nothing to be embarrassed about. He repeated it to himself, then followed his king.

He didn't know he would soon regret this hasty idea. That was another story, though.