Substitution and Submission

Warning: Please read the warnings on chapter one. More disturbing role-playing and squicky sexuality. For me, it's a bit weird and kinky too. I'm not entirely comfortable with it despite it being fully consensual (so far) and I'm writing it D: Apparently Dark!Merlin holds hands with Dark!Arthur.

After they make love in the beauty of the awakening dawn, Merlin drapes a long black tunic on his king's bare shoulders. Mourning clothes. It is custom to wear them for a month after the passing of the member of a royal family. They made sure most of the skin was covered down to the ground with a single row of buttons down the front. The sleeves had to be laced individually as well. Still, Arthur enjoyed the dressing ritual. It is rare that Merlin is needed for dressing duties after all. Arthur loves it way Merlin's fingers brush lightly against his skin. It reminds Arthur of the way they used to be. Back when Arthur did not have the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders and Merlin was his bumbling manservant with what his father labeled a 'grave mental affliction'.

If it weren't for the fact that missing a meeting is a great diplomatic insult and could potentially start a war, Merlin and Arthur might have risked being late to the meeting. But responsibility called to Arthur and Merlin, flushed and flustered, nodded his understanding to his King.

"I'm going to need a couple of minutes," Merlin said a little unsteadily. His glare dared Arthur to make fun of him.

Arthur merely winked over his shoulder and shut the door behind him.

*

Arthur spends a long day at the court with Merlin at his side, bargaining with General Urien of Nador. Urien is wearing a full suit of armour even though they were not in battle. He is a broad-shouldered man, taller than Arthur and his hair just beginning to turn grey. He has none of the youthfulness that Arthur possesses; instead his face seemed permanently schooled into a severe kind of grimace. A gold sash adorns him with his military honours and a ceremonial cape on his shoulders offsets the hostility of the armour. But the large broadsword belted at his waist gave him the appearance of aggression. Merlin told Arthur to let him keep it as a gesture of faith from Camelot. He was confident that if it were necessary, he could protect Arthur with his magic. Arthur scowled at the suggestion that he could not defend himself.

Merlin did not usually attend to courts unless Arthur was hosting guests, preferring to practice magic and heal the sick. When the young warlock is at court, he rarely speaks. It is clear that Merlin at least publicly defers to Arthur's experience in diplomacy and politics. Merlin has found that this makes his presence less intimidating and his desire is to protect Arthur and his reign. He would not undermine his rule. Where lesser individuals may find the arrangement restrictive and insulting, Merlin knows it is Arthur who was born to be a king: not only a king, but a great king. It reminds Merlin that thought he is powerful he is only one side of the coin. He needs Arthur.

After two days of frustratingly slow and fruitless negotiations with General Urien, Merlin's patience grows thin and he tries not to sigh or let his attentions waver. He is glad he is not a King. He grits his teeth and wonders if he could get away with making it rain indoors...

When everyone stands to leave, leaving Arthur seated, Merlin takes this as his cue to leave as well. Merlin stands and topples over the chair loudly. He starts to apologise but Arthur tells him to stay.

A look of displeasure crosses General Urien's face and he addresses Merlin for the first time since the introductions.

"Your advisor too...Merlin is it? I hope you will not take offence if I request to speak with King Arthur privately?"

Merlin nods in agreement, relieved to be given an excuse to be free from the negotiations. He is about to summon the guards from outside the door, planning to surreptitiously cast a surveillance spell when Arthur interrupts stiffly.

"Anything you wish to say can be said in front of my advisor," Arthur's voice was decidedly firm.

Merlin blinks owlishly and smiles apologetically at Lord Urien who looks rather affronted at his Arthur's denial of his polite request. The warlock wonders if this is some political power game that he's missing or some kind of tradition being revoked. Either way he does not see his presence is necessary either as a bodyguard or overseeing the treaty about trading. The guards could come to replace him. "It's alright..." Merlin slips into informality. "I mean with all due respect, your Majesty, I take no offense-"

Arthur eyes bore holes nailed him into place. "Anything Lord Urien wishes to say to me, he can say in your presence," he says, establishing Merlin as his equal. "Merlin is my most trusted adviser, General Urien," Arthur says with fierce conviction. "I assure you that anything you say here between the three of us will remain in the strictest confidence."

Merlin thinks he might have to talk to Arthur about being over-protective. Really, he didn't mind being sent away from some talk on trading as long as he kept the protective spell on Arthur but he righted his chair anyway and sat down without looking at the two men who seem to be locked in some sort of staring contest.

"Very well, your Majesty," General Urien conceded. "Please accept my apologies, Merlin." The General extended his hand towards Merlin who shook it firmly.

"None taken, General." Merlin turns a friendly smile to Arthur and Arthur can not help but return it, however inappropriate it is. Merlin's cheer is contagious and even General Urien's countenance affected. His fierce frown was now a confused looking expression between a smile and a wince. It looked rather uncomfortable, Arthur thought, trying to suppress his amusement.

With his next words, Arthur breaks with formality and tradition directly in a way his father never would have. "Let's put all our cards on the table shall we, General? Something on your mind? Speak your mind freely. And since we are speaking in privacy, I propose that we drop these titles. I believe you are a reasonable and military-minded man so, if you have no objections, let us talk as comrades."

From his experience of both on and off field matters, Merlin has observed that Arthur's intuition is excellent. He has a way of being blunt but honest that makes people trust him way more than Uther and his unctuous platitudes. Arthur may be less agreeable at times but he would go with you all the way. It inspired men to lay down their lives for him. The King's bluntness cuts through the room like a sword. The General seems taken aback at Arthur's charm. "I am in agreement, my Lord uh..."

"Arthur." Then with deliberate poise, Arthur waves a hand to summon for some wine and a platter.

"Arthur," the General amends congenially. "As a matter of fact, you have observed correctly that there is something on my mind. It is not related to our current trade agreements. I have a proposal for you which I hope will not offend you."

"Go on," Arthur said with interest, leaning forward.

"I am aware of your...unique household and ruling arrangement. I have a solution of sorts for you." With a wary glance at the warlock, Urien continued, "To clarify, I have four daughters. The eldest is already married to Admiral Telos but you can have your choice of any of the remaining girls. The youngest, Carys, is seven. Elaine is fifteen and Adrianne is seventeen. An agreement between us will ensure that the...encounter will produce an heir for you. Discreetly, of course. I hope that we will have your blessing." he added the last bit with a nervous nod towards Merlin.

Arthur seemed too shocked to respond. He's gaping like a fish.

Merlin drank his cup of wine in one go and went to pour more for himself, sloshing the liquid in his haste. He kept his eyes studiously trained on the dark red liquid. He did not want to think about anyone else with Arthur. The warlock hoped that Arthur trusts him enough to not give in. He leaned over to grip Arthur on the shoulder. He supposed it could be interpreted as a possessive touch but he did not care. Arthur was his.

Urien plunged onwards, "Forgive me, Merlin. I am sure that you only have Arthur's best interests at heart and I assure you that this proposition comes with the deepest of respect for your position as the King's Consort."

Arthur thought they'd been subtle enough but apparently Merlin is clearly his Consort in all but name. Denying it now would be stupid and a blatant show of dishonesty to a potential ally. Arthur sipped his wine, gathering his thoughts carefully. "You mean to make one of your daughter's er, my wife?"

The General releases a full-bellied laugh. "If that is what you wish," he chuckles, slapping the table jovially. Noting that neither of his hosts is laughing, he composes himself. "I apologise for my jest. I meant to propose one of my daughters as your mistress, Arthur. I am quite aware that your heart is already taken." He spreads his palms in a placating manner.

"My mistress?" Arthur winced with the word, trying not to let his disdain for the idea filter through. The girls are young and they deserve more but even Arthur knows it is not his place to say such a thing.

"It would be her honour to do so. You are of course free to take more than one of my daughters if you are worried that she will not bear you a son. This is the traditional solution for warriors with unconventional proclivities in Nador."

Morgana would have a fit if she ever heard about this, Arthur thought. "I thank you for your...generous offer Urien."

Merlin felt his throat tighten and had to focus on the green ball of magic threatening to unleash. He tightened his grip on Arthur's shoulder and deepened his breathing, reciting calming mantras in his head.

"But I cannot accept this now."

General Urien seemed puzzled.

Running a hand through his hair to search for the right words, Arthur continued rambling excuses, "Especially not at this time. As you can see, I'm still in mourning. Such a discussion now would be inappropriate when my father is barely cold in his grave. Surely you understand."

"Of course," Urien agreed smoothly. "Perhaps you wish to think on this for the future?"

"Nor do I intend to accept in the future. Please wish your daughters every happiness and sent my best regards to them all."

Urien furrowed his brows. "I hope I have not offended you, your Majesty."

"No, you have not." Arthur exhaled heavily, finally explaining, "I have already made arrangements. I apologise that I did not make this clearer but your offer was unexpected and took me off guard."

"Of course, Arthur, I will prepare my party to leave tonight. The trade negotiations you offered on the first day are sufficient. If you will have them sent to my room, I shall sign them. I apologise for holding up your progress but you did not respond to the traditional gestures." Urien waves off the apology Arthur is undoubtedly forming. "I am glad we spoke plainly so we had no misunderstandings between us." He stands with the rasp of metal on metal, a signal that the meeting is over.

Arthur nods and then stood to give a shallow bow to the General. "I appreciate your generosity and your hand of friendship to Camelot. Travel safely, General Urien. Camelot will welcome you again."

With a stiff metallic clang, the General clasped a fist over his heart in a traditional salute to comrades. "I am grateful for your service." He marched off with one last knowing look at Merlin's hand on Arthur's shoulder that makes the warlock's spine tingle defensively.

When it is just the King and his sorcerer again, Arthur lets out a sigh of relief. Arthur thinks that his father might have been proud of him, being able to pull of such a facade of confidence. He is willing to bet that his father never had to deal with such unusual proposals but then again his father would not have fallen for a former servant. Even if that former servant was now practically the most powerful sorcerer in the kingdom. Arthur still feels his father's absence keenly but he is a King now and he has to be strong.

Merlin is not known as Arthur's 'cunningman' for nothing. He uses his grip on the King's shoulder to give him an affectionate squeeze. Now that they are in private, Merlin draws his lover into a warm embrace. The brunet leans his forehead against Arthur's, not caring about the golden crown digging into his brow. "Don't worry Arthur. I'll take care of everything for you. Just trust me."

Arthur feels the tension leech away from him. It surprises him how easily the answer comes to him. "I do." With his back to the table, he pulls Merlin on top of him, parting his thighs to allow the warlock easy access. Merlin's eyes flash and the king's black tunic is hitched up to his waist, Merlin's fingers pushing his tights down. When the warlock's hands delicately curl around Arthur's shaft and strokes him, the blond throws his head back in ecstasy.

The warlock crackles with magic and the room is completely sealed and soundproofed. The room pulses with Merlin's power and his eyes turn from golden and briefly flickers into the hypnotic emerald that Arthur has only seen once before. "Mine," Merlin whispers possessively, taking Arthur in his mouth.

Later, if Arthur sees the handprint-shaped bruises on his hips and the bit marks adorning his neck and chest, he smiles and wears them gladly like medals.

*

With the negotiations and Urien's Farewell Feast at an end, Merlin insists that his King should take a break. "You shouldn't overwork yourself. You're scheduled for drills with the knights today. You know Lancelot is more than capable of handling it."

"It's not Lancelot or the knights I'm worried about. I have a duty to my people Merlin."

"I think we should spend some time together, just relaxing, that kind of thing."

"We do everything together." Arthur raises an eyebrow at Merlin's pout but he can feel his heart weakening behind his iron armour.

Merlin gives Arthur a pleading and Arthur gives in. It is surprising how some things don't change. This is how they ended up in the woods, having a picnic in the middle of nowhere. It's been a long time since Arthur has worried about evil creatures in the woods or bandits – between his sword skills and Merlin's magic, they have everything covered. It is a companionship which makes Arthur feel fulfilled and he is glad to be away from the court even if he feels a little guilty shirking off. His father would have never done such a thing but his father is not here right now.

"Arthur," Merlin cuts into his gloomy thoughts with a cheerful exuberance. "C'mon. Even kings should be allowed time off. Let's just enjoy this?" He knows better than to ask Arthur not to be king for a day. That would be like asking Arthur to forget his name so he settles for trying to get Arthur to be just Arthur when they are alone.

Arthur lets Merlin's happiness wash over him as they eat. He notices the light set on Merlin as it filters through the trees. And people say his hair is a like a halo in the sun. He thinks it shines so much more clearly around Merlin and it suits him better.

Then the warlock brings out some luscious cherries with sweet honey. "Feed me," Merlin says mischievously. He pops a cherry on his tongue, slowly swirling it around. As he nibbles into the dark red flesh, the juices stain his lips a vivid red.

"You know, I'm the King. You're supposed to feed me." Arthur takes a cherry from the bowl to prove his point.

"Mmmm," Merlin mumbles around another cheery. He dips it into the honey first, licking it with a sinful sensuousness. The syrup runs down his chin, he takes one sticky finger and trails it down his own skin before sucking the digit off with a wet pop.

Arthur would say to his former manservant that he is actually making a mess and that it's rude to play with food. He really would say it but he knows the bulge in his trousers would give evidence to the contrary. Arthur can barely wrap his mind around the fact that Merlin's lips are practically caressing the cherry before eating it. Arthur almost chokes on his mouthful for fruit. He can smell Merlin's breath: sweet and fruity and irresistible. Arthur reminds himself that he's a warrior and he won't give in so easily. He counterattacks. Covering the cherry generously in the sticky syrup, Arthur puts the cherry in his mouth, not quite biting into it, intending to pass it onto his lover.

Merlin catches on quickly. His face is in front of Arthur's as he delicately catches the fruit from the King's lips, letting the juice spill onto his own red lips. Arthur is completely fixated by the sight of Merlin stripping the fruit down to the seed, the warlock's long fingers dripping with sugary juices. Arthur licks the juice from those fingers then quietly, calculatingly, he puts another cherry into his mouth and they do this slow dance again. Merlin eats and Arthur slowly cleans him up. Sometimes, Arthur licks the juice from the corner of Merlin's mouth as it escapes, his tongue following the trail upwards, tasting the tarty sweetness of the fruit from Merlin's lips as they tangle in a kiss.

With each cherry disappearing from the bowl, Arthur feels victorious. It reminds him that Merlin may be the one taking from him but Arthur is the one that feeds him.

*

It is Merlin's habit to collect herbs in the morning for his alchemy experiments and for making medicines. He still enjoys the art of science even though he could use his magic. There is just something fulfilling about doing it by hand, putting work into making something.

Arthur's mornings are either spent in court, trade and border negotiations, giving audience to those that request it or training knights. It is tedious work. Sometimes he yearns for the adventures he used to have but peace is hard to come by so he cherishes the dullness. On the rare day that there are no audiences requested, Arthur spends the time resting. He still enjoyed a good ride and a stroll but ever since he has become king, it is difficult to wander around without either Merlin or the guards for protection so privacy was a valuable commodity. He prefers to spend the time he has in privacy even if it meant he had to sequester himself in the dark and draughty King's chambers. Because it was so big, the fireplace constantly needed to be stroked to maintain the level of warmth that Arthur liked. Merlin's magical fire was the only thing that really kept it warm enough but not too warm – just right.

Arthur is lounging in bed with the covers over him for warmth. It is nearing lunch time and Arthur has not bothered to dress yet, clad only in sleeping shorts.

There is a knock on his door and a chambermaid entered, she averts her eyes respectfully though Arthur could see her eyes widen at his state of undress. He almost smirked but he thinks that might be conduct unbecoming of a king. He's starting to think like his father.

"Your Majesty, the Lady Morgana wishes to speak to you."

"Send her right in. Oh and tend to the fire will you?" The chambermaid hurries to comply with his order.

Morgana enters with a rustle of expensive silk. Jewels dangled from her ears and bangles droop from her slim wrists. She does not bat an immaculately painted eye at his state, though her gaze lingers on the healing bite marks on her brother. There is a particularly spectacular mark on his collarbone, almost clear enough for her to see the ridges of teeth. Bruises peeked out at the top of his low-slung shorts. She thinks she can see another mark on his inner thigh but she can't be sure in the dim light.

He notices her gaze wander and the air of disdain that she projects so easily. "Well Morgana, what brings you here?"

"Jealous that I'm getting more action than you?"

She doesn't jump at the bait like she used to. "I see things you know." She is solemn and pale and Arthur is not sure if she's always been that ghostly looking. She looks grey and gaunt like she's wasting away.

Despite their bickering and differences in opinion, Arthur does care. "I know," he says soberly. "Have they been bothering you? Perhaps I could ask Merlin to... to do whatever it is he does?" he gestures vaguely.

She laughs a brittle laugh. "Yes, they are bothering me. I see what he does to you." Arthur suddenly feels self-conscious and cold goes to don a silken robe. As he turns, Morgana sees the scratches on his back and more bruises where Merlin slammed him onto the table and tries not to let it awaken the memories dormant inside her. She knows exactly how they got there and it's knowledge that she shouldn't know. It's unnatural. It's too intimate. This is why she rooms on the other wing of the castle now, to avoid the morning after awkwardness. Though she attends Arthur's courts like she used to attend Uther's, it is clear she is not needed. It is only because she still has more experience than Merlin with diplomacy that she is included. Soon, she fears she will be of no use. Her dreams tell her useless things that Arthur and Merlin do not wish her to know.

It's an argument that they've had before and it rarely ends well. Arthur stiffens, drawing himself up to his full height. "It's nothing that I don't want him to. I'm fine." He tightens the sash around his waist. "You said you'd let this go, Morgana."

"I know." Morgana puts her hand to her mouth, lip trembling. Arthur hopes she isn't going to cry because he doesn't know what to do. She is convinced that Merlin is doing bad things to him and he doesn't know what to say about that. Short of admitting that he is perverted that is and he is adamant he will not give his adopted sister any more fodder against him.

"I know you don't agree and I'm sorry you have to see some of the things you see. There's no need to worry though. It's not anything terrible. Don't be such a prude," Arthur says with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

Morgana cannot hold it in any more, she has to tell him. She has been trying to keep it inside her for a while but if she doesn't tell Arthur, she knows she'll regret it. "I'm not being a prude! It's different this time. Arthur, please, you have to believe me. I...I saw him rape you."

Arthur laughs. "Morgana," he says with condescending assurance. "You really don't have to worry about me." He is a little nervous, wondering exactly how much she sees but he can't bring himself to ask. It's too weird. "I don't really want to talk about it. Remember that first time? It's probably nothing." He is a little freaked out. He doesn't have any rape fantasies that he knows of so for Morgana to see that... he doesn't want to know. This is utterly humiliating, Arthur thought with a groan. The first time Merlin had rough sex with him, Morgana had seen it and that had lead to an unnecessary intervention which left everyone mentally scarred for weeks. The moment Morgana flinches, Arthur knows he should not have bought it up. "I know you're just trying to take care of me but what happens between me and Merlin does not concern you."

It still stings. Morgana turns on her brother. "Is there something you want to tell me? Look Arthur, maybe you do need help and it's okay to ask for help. You don't have to do it all on your own."

"I thank you for your concern. Really. I'm touched." Arthur blushes. "Morgana, I'll say this once and this is never going to leave the room. Merlin hasn't done anything to me that I haven't requested of him. That's all you need to know. I don't want to disturb your sleep with all this...this...whatever. I told you to take the sleeping draughts. I have Merlin and yes I know what you're going to say about that but I'm not helpless without him alright? I can take care of myself. You can stop worrying about me. I think your need some rest. You should take better care of yourself."

"You are," she insisted. Her bangles and bracelets jingled as she crossed her arms.

"I'm what?"

"You are helpless against magic. You're just as helpless as everyone else if Merlin chooses to unleash his power on Camelot." Morgana stares at her brother pointedly in the way that she knows Arthur hates because she's right.

"Merlin wouldn't do that."

"But what if he didn't mean to? What if he loses control? What if he goes too far?" With you. The words for unspoken but Arthur understood her implication.

"I trust him and you should also." Arthur says icily. He cannot see Merlin like that. Like the evil things that his father spoke of. No, Merlin is nothing like that. "Morgana, I know it's been difficult lately but I think it's affecting you. I...I miss him too. I know he was like a father to you, as he was to me. Maybe not always the easiest person to be around," Arthur clears his throat nervously, "but it hasn't been the same without him." Arthur reaches out to his adopted sister and she accepts his embrace, not caring that it will mess up her meticulously arranged finery. "Maybe you should talk to someone about it. You're not coping." This is how I cope. He's hoping she'll understand and leave this be. He does not want to choose between his sister and his lover.

She doesn't deny the charge. Morgana is tired. The dreams have kept her up and consumed her waking hours. She doesn't want to argue. She wants to believe that everything will be fine and that it's all a misunderstanding. Yet, she knows she is not wrong. She may have misinterpreted the nature of the dream but it will occur like it did that time and this realisation frightens her. But though she has not been proven wrong in her dreams, she also knows that Arthur is destined to be a great king. He cannot be a great king and be broken she reasons so – she lays aside her pride and her caution and hopes.

"Does he makes you happy?" Morgana says in a wavering voice, blinking away the stinging in her eyes.

"Yes," Arthur says with a blinding smile.

*

Before he realises it, it is the end of the month of mourning for his father. Already. Arthur should wearing his Pendragon red tunic but he doesn't feel ready to put his mourning clothes away. He's gotten used to Merlin dressing him again. It's nice to have an excuse for his first month of official kingship. Any mistakes he has made could be excused because he's emotionally compromised from grief. Now without this buffer, Arthur feels like he has to stride into court naked.

Arthur is more aware of his father's absence than he'd admit. His father could fully understand what it was like to be a king. There are things that even Merlin would not understand that he knew his father had suffered though. Arthur knows that it is a lonely place on the throne. When you are the highest authority in the land, the only place to go is downwards. Everyone could be your enemy, so it is difficult to know who to trust if at all. Arthur knows his Court is loyal to him but even in their sympathetic gazes, he's still trying to move out of his father's shadow. When he sees that the job of the day is to renew contracts, contracts signed in the familiar flourish of his father's hand with the Uther Pendragon seal next to it, he knows it's going to be a long day.

As the young warlock strode into the room with his robe splattered with alchemy ingredients, Merlin could feel the tension rolling off Arthur without activating his telepathy. Arthur is snapping at the servant to draw him a bath, a warmer one this time he growled, and the servant scurried away from the King much like they used to from Uther. A fact that Arthur is aware of and is probably increasing Arthur's ire, Merlin notes.

Merlin comes up behind his lover and starts massaging the kinks in his shoulders. "You miss him." It hurts a little to admit but it is obvious to Merlin that he is not enough. At least not for the moment. Arthur needs Uther. He needs more time to find closure. Merlin feels a twinge of guilt but he doesn't regret protecting Arthur.

Arthur doesn't say anything but the way he turned to look at his former manservant speaks volumes. His baby blue eyes are wide and uncertain. Merlin sees him as a prince all over again, trying to hide his insecurities and loneliness behind the crown of privilege. "I never got to tell him..." Arthur turns away with a sharp inhale of the chilled night air. Merlin waves his hand at the fire and the room is instantly warmer.

"I'm sure he knows," Merlin murmurs comfortingly, resuming his massage. He kneaded the hard knots in the blond's back, willing them to undo.

"That feels good. Mmm," Arthur says, changing the topic. It is a while before he speaks again, thoughts collapsing into a jumble. "It's not that...I...I am born to be like this...I just... I don't know what to do without him sometimes. I want him to...I wanted him to be there you know?" Arthur lets out a long shuddering breath and bows his head, letting his blond hair fall into his eyes. "I always thought he'd hate the way I'd rule," Arthur chuckled without humour. Then, finally, he says what he's been trying to say all along, "I don't think I'm ready."

"That's okay."

"Please," Arthur says, his voice roughly shaping the word that he rarely uses. "You're the only one I trust with this. I need your help."

Arthur is asking him to understand. Asking him to do whatever he needs to help him get over this. "I'll help you," Merlin says lightly, without the slightest hint of hesitation. The young warlock squeezes his lover's hand, feeling the familiar calluses on his King's palms.

In silent agreement, Merlin removes his circlet and places it on the bedside table. Merlin wastes no time, he finds the bundle of clothes stashed at the back of the closet. Arthur puts his crown down and exchanges it for Merlin's. Then he walks out without another glance at his lover. He has to do this now before he loses his nerve.

He spends what feels like an eternity waiting nervously outside. This 'reality' feels so real. It's funny how comfortable he has become as a crown prince that being a king feels odd to him. The responsibility is still there but it is different. He doesn't feel so...old and weary.

"Arthur," he hears his father call.

As Arthur entered, it doesn't matter that he is still dressed as a king. He's back to being sixteen and his father is waiting for him in the large bed that he's become familiar with.

Arthur looks nervously at the windows and the door. Even as Uther, Merlin indulges him. Magic crackles at the edges of the windows and the door. No doubt they are powerful privacy spells. He has no time to be distracted by Merlin's magic because Merlin is there and...his father is there. Right there before his eyes as if he never left at all. It feels so right.

"Come Arthur, the night is young. I want us to enjoy our time together." His father is smiling. Though Arthur would recall the night with some guilt, it was one of the happiest times he had with his father. He had told Arthur that he was proud of him.

"Father," Arthur says reverently. He goes over to the bed willingly.

As Arthur takes him into his mouth, Merlin is happy. It is a powerful feeling to be able to give and take at the same time. He imagines that's what being a king must feel like. He knows that while he is Uther, Arthur would never refuse him anything. From Uther's memories, Merlin surmises that the thought of refusing his father never crossed Arthur's mind. Merlin finds that he likes being Uther, with power so readily at his fingertips. Uther would be horrified to find himself so bound with magic. When he feels the magic surge through him at the memory of Uther's silent screams, the victory is all the sweeter.

Arthur sees the smile cross Merlin's face and it breaks loose the floodgates of his self-control. He's mumbling, stumbling over his words as he's trying to say everything he wishes he could have said but didn't get to. He's sorry, he's so sorry that he wasn't there and he would have if he could have but he knows that he would have understood. The tears come but Uther is stroking his hair telling him over and over again how much he loves him, how proud he is of him and how precious he is to him. At the back of his mind, Arthur knows his father cannot be here right now, he's gone but Merlin silences him with I love you, I love you son and Arthur lets the wave of contentedness carry him away. He lets himself believe.

It gives him a hunger that just touching cannot sate. With frantic force, Arthur strips Merlin and Merlin strips Arthur and then they are just themselves again. They are Arthur and Merlin, two halves of a soul.

"Merlin," Arthur says, reaffirming his identity.

"Yes," Merlin says. "I love you, Arthur."

At his name, Arthur comes, seed spilling into Merlin. His father loves him. Merlin loves him. Arthur is complete.

To be continued: All criticism welcome.