A'N: Hi guys! I'm so sorry it took so long to update, but I finally have the story and all the chapters completely figured out!
It was dawn. Arthur was warm and content, because of the pocket of heat between his bed and the sheets, because of the silken feel of skin against skin, and mostly because he was holding Merlin snugly within his arms. Merlin, who was serenely sleeping, Merlin, whose cheekbones curved and softly glowed in a way that redefined the dawn.
He untangled himself, went to the window and looked out. Most of the servants were already at work, what with the upcoming feast to celebrate the banishment of the Great Dragon. There were the dignitaries and lords from all the other kingdoms that supported the purging of magic. One more group of guests would be arriving today, the young Lord Cobalt and his men from the neighboring kingdom.
There was a shuffle from the bed, and Arthur turned to see his manservant gingerly sitting up. The blanket fell back, and Arthur felt heat pooling downwards as he saw Merlin's bare shoulders, and the bruises that were the mark of his lust. His eyes widened at Arthur, who was standing unclothed by the window.
"Morning," said Arthur, completely unperturbed. And because it was so much fun teasing his adorable servant, he allowed his gaze to rake up and down at what he could see of Merlin.
As if burnt by the heat of Arthur's gaze, Merlin ducked his head. His hands grasped the blankets, suddenly aware of his nakedness. "Morning," he croaked, in a voice hoarse from the hours of yelling. He was blushing, Arthur noticed, there was a light brush of pink.
"Sore?" continued Arthur.
Merlin blushed harder, as if self-conscious about the burn and tiredness in his limbs.
Still so virginal, sinfully so.
Arthur was on the bed again in seconds; he pulled the blanket away, lifted Merlin's chin up and covered his mouth with his. Then he did what he did throughout the night before, which was to savor Merlin to his heart's content, firmly, thoroughly, deeply, until Merlin's tongue helplessly followed his.
By the time he pulled away, Merlin was trembling. "Arthur…"
Arthur reached down and grasped Merlin's hardness. He began stroking; drawing out soft, almost inaudible mewls from Merlin that grew steadily louder.
"Ah…Arthur… slower…"
Arthur shivered, realizing Merlin was still sensitive from last night. He slowed his pace, stroking Merlin until his thighs began spreading involuntarily. Arthur slowly pressed two fingers into Merlin's entrance, still slick from the night before. He moved his fingers, gently at first, then a little more vigorously until he brushed against that spot that made Merlin arch his back and spread his legs even further.
"I'll go slowly," said Arthur, pushing in inch by inch, reminding himself to be careful because Merlin had only been opened by him once before.
Once Arthur buried himself to the hint, he forced himself to pause to let Merlin accommodate. But Merlin buckled his hips.
"Move…now…"
Arthur's hands, which were gripping on to Merlin's hips, twitched, and it was only through iron force of will that he stopped himself.
"Are you sure? Not too much after last night?"
"It hurts but it's so good…"
That broke Arthur's self control. He pulled back and plunged forward, and cried out with Merlin at the blinding pleasure.
"Do you know how amazing you are?" They were picking up their rate, "How sinful you sound and look?"
Merlin was coming before he could give an answer, and then Arthur was over the edge too.
Moments later, Arthur was holding Merlin under the covers again, having decided that they could sleep for just a bit longer before the group of guests arrived at Camelot.
"You seem smug," murmured Merlin.
"I am smug," Arthur whispered back.
"So who's arriving today?" Merlin asked as he followed Arthur down the hall. A group of knights trailed behind them, part of the audience sent by Uther to welcome the guests.
"Lord Cobalt. A young lord; recently inherited his father's lands," said Arthur.
"Never heard of him."
"His lands are up north of the kingdom of Tír-Mòr. He's gaining quite the reputation for having a sharp wit, which is why my father invited him."
"You can gain a reputation for that?"
"You will not cross him, Merlin," Arthur turned around, the motion abruptly halting everyone in their tracks, "they say Cobalt can have the King of Tír-Mòr running in circles if he so wishes."
"And Uther is inviting this lord into the heart of Camelot?"
"Camelot never backs down from the dangerous or the powerful."
It was too late to lament the stupidity of inviting such a person, so Merlin focused on remembering a spell he had learned. It allowed him to check if another person was a sorcerer as well as the amount of magical power if said person was a sorcerer. He would use to check if Lord Cobalt might be of any danger to Arthur.
Arthur placed an arm around Merlin's shoulder. The warmth and the familiar scent calmed him somewhat.
"Are you alright? Merlin, you can go back to the castle. I have enough guards and knights here."
"No, no, I'm not scared…just a bit tired. But I'm still coming with you."
Arthur's eyes softened for the briefest moment, but quickly turned guarded again, as they were only a short distance from the gate.
Merlin's first view of Cobalt was of the young lord turning his head the slightest degree, and of piercing eyes flitting just once, almost imperceptibly, between Merlin and Arthur.
And it was enough to stun every thought out of Merlin's head.
It feels as if he knows everything. No, that's impossible… calm down, Merlin told himself.
Cobalt's eyes flicked to Merlin's scarf, and focused exactly on the spot that covered a bruise Arthur had left.
By the gods, he knows everything somehow…
And just as quickly, the fierce look in Cobalt's eyes faded, leaving Merlin stunned and wondering if he had imagined everything.
"Greetings, Arthur Pendragon," he called out from his horse, "prince heir of a great realm!"
"And you, Cobalt of Tír-Mòr," Arthur replied without missing a beat, "lord master to his own!"
"Better heir of a kingdom than lord of an estate."
Well spoken, Merlin had to admit. But he still felt the urge to whirl Arthur far away from this place, because well spoken or not, he could not be sure of Cobalt's agenda.
Cobalt dismounted his horse, and the small group of men behind him followed suit. With loud, heavy strides, he moved in a way that could only be described as over-confident.
Arthur raised an eyebrow. He had the same look now as whenever he assessed a new knight. Unimpressed by the swagger, but mildly interested at the prospect of taming the recklessness into something that fitted more with the knight's code.
Rolling his eyes, Merlin silently began the incantation that tested for sorcery.
"Ácymewiðinnan hine…" Look within him…
His magic responded readily, like a flexing dragon ready for flight. Merlin closed his eyes to prevent anyone seeing the golden glow. With those words of the Old Religion, he felt his mind brush against another presence. His magic stayed just outside what seemed to be a wall. He knew he needed to finish the spell before he could see if Cobalt posed any magical danger.
He heard leather against leather; Cobalt had clasped Arthur's hand.
"I admire something about you and the knights of Camelot: strength, courage, and fine swordsmanship. Very important qualities, don't you think?"
"There are other qualities equally valuable." Arthur's voice remained guarded.
"And perhaps you could give me advice on swordplay? I like to take advice from the best."
There is a short pause. Merlin opened his eyes.
"I would be glad to," said Arthur, with a hint of a smile, "it is good that you take interest in the sword."
Merlin tried to ignore the small pang of sadness and jealously. Of course Arthur would be pleased that Cobalt shared an interest in swordplay. It was the one thing Merlin could not give Arthur. He was not a knight. Unlike Cobalt, he could not announce his skills proudly, in the open, to impress his prince.
He hoped that one day Arthur would see him for his worth. But even if he never got the chance to reveal his magic, Merlin would be content to serve his prince silently for the rest of his life.
It was then that Merlin realized he had forgotten about his spell. The entourage was already moving back toward the castle. Merlin soundlessly started the incantation again.
"Ácymewiðinnan hine… áscian!" Look within him…seek!
He found the smallest trace of power. Just enough to light a candle or lift a pebble, nothing more. Cobalt himself might not even be aware of it.
Well, what could one expect from a person so interested in swordplay? Of course he wouldn't have much magical potential. Merlin would have to look out for other signs of danger. But anything was better than another hidden sorcerer.
Yet he still felt anxiety and unease.
Early that afternoon, Merlin was working in a wing of the royal kitchen. This part of the kitchen was empty; the cooks and servants had gone to take a break. Merlin felt guilty about missing his shift the night before, and so decided not to rest just yet.
He was categorizing the spices sent as a gift from the kingdom of Nemeth when he came across a curved, white object. Ah yes, the fang of a Griffin. A gift from the kingdom of Tír-Mòr. Honestly, these lords and kings really try their best to out-do each other, Merlin thought. In the past few days, as the many lords invited to Uther's feast arrived, he had seen a huge array of strange treasures. Merlin placed the fang back in the container he found it in.
At this moment, the door burst open. A young man breathed heavily as he dragged a cart into the kitchen. Another man followed, bellowing snidely, "Are you completely useless? This needs to be placed indoors! This-
"I'm so sorry-
"You left it outside! If someone tipped it over, Rience, I will flay you, because this is worth more than your skin!"
The cart's wheels caught on an uneven spot on the kitchen floor. The young man's eyes widened in panic as the cart refused to be pulled further.
"YOU IDIOT-
"Here, hold on, the wheel is stuck," said Merlin, as he dropped the spices and ran to help.
The older man snorted, murmured something that sounded like an insult, and strode off.
When they finally pushed the cart into a corner of the kitchen, he noticed that the young man was standing quite still. Merlin turned to face him. The lad looked only a few years older than him. He was about Arthur's height, Merlin thought. He had guileless brown eyes. And he didn't deserve such treatment from the yelling, angry man.
"Rience, was it?"
"Yes."
"I'm Merlin," he offered a tentative smile to Rience, who was staring rather uncannily at him.
As Merlin looked him in the eye, the other boy turned away. But moments later, Merlin noticed from the corner of his vision that Rience was staring at him again.
"Where are you from, Rience, and why was that man so angry?"
"I'm Lord Cobalt's squire. That was my lord's steward, yelling at me. My lord sent twenty or so decorated torches for King Uther's celebration. And this cart contains expensive oil for the torches."
"He had no reason to treat you so," Merlin said, "it's just a cart of fuel!"
"I should have taken better care of it. But…but thank you for helping me, Merlin."
The stilted conversation was just awkward enough to make Merlin aware of their close proximity in the otherwise empty kitchen, but not awkward enough as to be unbearable.
He wanted to help and give something to this slightly gawky, but somehow endearing young man. So he turned to him, and said, "You must be tired from all that pulling. I'll get you something to eat."
"No, you don't have to-
"It's no problem at all, the cooks will think I ate it, and they keep saying that I should eat more."
Merlin wrapped a pastry in a piece of cloth, and Rience pocketed it with a care and tenderness that seemed unusual, in Merlin's opinion, for such an insignificant gift.
There was more warmth between them now, and Rience looked at him with trusting eyes.
The young man stared at the floor pensively for a few moments, before looking up.
"I just…I just wanted to say, you look very nice…no, no I mean, you're very nice looking, Merlin."
Merlin felt heat rush up to his face, and knew he was blushing.
"Who the hell are you?" A familiar voice suddenly boomed.
Both Merlin and Rience jumped, as they turned to see Arthur Pendragon standing by the door.
How long has he been standing there?
Arthur strode forward, anger and jealously strumming through his powerful frame.
"If I ever see you near my manservant again," the prince hissed, "I willtake my sword and I will run you through."
Rience backed away, found the archway that led to the adjacent wing of the royal kitchens, and scampered away.
The prince turned around, and Merlin found himself both petrified and heavily aroused as Arthur backed him into a corner.
A'N: So how was it? Please leave a review and let me know!
I'm writing Chapter 4 now, but reviews always make me write faster! Hint hint. :D
