"Merlin, it's not too late to forfeit," Gwaine tried one last time as Ian moved around the younger man, muttering peevishly about his lack of armor. The servant had been careful in selecting his master's clothes for today. The boy was fittingly handsome in his usual tight black pants and high leather black boots, but his shirt was a stunning dark green made of fine quality linen- form fitting enough to not get in the way, but loose enough for the boy to move freely. The black leather gloves he wore had the Ship and Staff embroidered in the deep purple. If Merlin had noticed the Dumnonian Royal colors Ian would eat his own boots!
"Why would I do that?" Merlin asked casually. "It's just a test of skill. Most likely, this Knight will defeat me, and then it will be the end to Arthur's problems and the end to these challenges, which appears to be what he wants. Trust me, he'll be relieved to hear the entire matter was taken care long before he even finished breakfast."
"Mate, I sincerely doubt you're in any state to figure out what Arthur wants," Gwaine snorted. He exchanged a glance with Ian. Things were worse than they thought if Merlin assumed Arthur was still asleep.
Merlin frowned, looking up from where Ian was tying a pair of vambraces Leon had shyly presented him with that morning. When the servant was finished with the first, he lifted his arm, flashing it, testing it. Lightweight, comfortable, and the leather securely glued to their interior provided some cushion without adding extra bulk. He was no longer surprised to see the dragons carved into them, but they were simple otherwise, silver and going from just before the bend of his elbow and tapering to a point over his wrist. Obviously ordered to be made quickly once the challenge had been announced, and he appreciated the thought, as well as the simplicity. He liked how they held down the edges of his leather gloves, which sometimes were too loose around his thin wrists.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked defensively, turning his attention back to Gwaine.
"It doesn't matter. And what makes you think you'll be defeated? You've won every fight so far," Gwaine pointed out, a hint of pride in his tone that made Merlin smile. Gwaine, after all, had spent many hours with him, teaching him. As had Leon, though the sword was definitely his specialty.
"Your Highness, as this is a public affair, Prince Durstan has requested that if you're not going to wear a helmet, you wear your circlet, with the Onyx. He wished me to extend his profound wishes for a successful challenge, and his full confidence that you will represent Dumnonia well," Ian informed him, holding it out.
Merlin nodded absently, giving a slight shudder to dispel the antsy energy that had become a permanent part of him lately. Distracted with making adjustments to the sheaths at the small of his back, he never saw the frown Ian shot him at the lack of fight on the matter, even as he settled the circlet properly, always making sure Merlin's shaggy hair suited it. He'd been unable to talk his master into more than a trim, and he'd let it go, admitting it was an attractive look.
"I've won tavern and street fights, Gwaine. This is a genuine challenge, and up against a far more skilled opponent, one who likely cares more about wining than I do."
"If you don't care about the win then why do it at all?"
"Why not? It gives me something to do, will entertain some of our visiting guests." Merlin bounced up and down a little, settling everything on him, frowning at the vambraces, trying to decide if the added weight would slow him down. They didn't feel much heavier than his metal cuffs- lighter, even, since they had none of the jewels or additional gold work- but the length felt unusual. He shifted again, his frown deepening. He felt off balance with the way everything sat on him.
Gwaine sighed, standing, helping the younger man to fiddle with the adjustments. "Well then, a few words of wisdom. Don't drag it out for entertainment purposes. Even if you're expecting to lose, go in to win, as though it were to the death. That will get the crowd on their feet and I have no doubt your opponent will be doing the same. If you want these challenges to end, then you have to earn respect for your skill, even if you do lose."
Merlin nodded, moving his arms from side to side to loosen up. He wasn't nervous, surprisingly. He was anxious for it to begin, if anything. A part of him was aware this energy wasn't natural, but he dismissed it. It would serve him well today, as it had in those past fights. "Right. Don't lose. Got it."
"And get rid of that shield as quickly as possible. Your daggers are useless against it, and you need to get in close enough to take away the advantage of the sword. You know as well as I do, you have no hope of winning with your blades as long as your opponent still has his. Remember your legs and fists are weapons too, like I've taught you. Don't be afraid to use them until you can get your daggers out."
Merlin grinned, clapping the Knight on the shoulder. "Have a little faith in your student, Gwaine. You said yourself, I took to them quickly. It should be enough to keep the crowd entertained." He frowned, twisting his back, reaching back, stopping, and repeating.
"What's the matter? You've been fidgeting."
"The vambraces, they… I don't know… they fold… going up so high, and I feel unbalanced," Merlin complained. "I need to take them off. They'll slow my draw."
"No, my Lord!" Ian replied instantly in horror. "The King promised to make my ears into a necklace if he found out you didn't have them on today! Your Highness, may I attempt something?" Ian requested, not waiting for permission while he quickly removed the sheaths. "If you've no reason to hide them anymore, then my Uncle liked to wear his like this."
With a few quick adjustments, asking Merlin to place and hold his hands so, he tied the sheaths around Merlin's upper thighs, making sure the daggers sat on the outside of his leg, the buckles wound around to do up under the sheath on the same side. Merlin squirmed a little when Ian pushed a finger under the strap on the inside of his thigh, but understood it was to make sure they weren't too tight.
The manservant stood back, admiring his work for a moment, then waved at Gwaine. "Take him through a few paces- no, your Highness, wait to draw until you're ready."
Gwaine snorted, but obeyed. It didn't take long for Merlin to flash his manservant a wide smile, practicing the sheath and draw a few more times to be sure. "You're brilliant, Ian! This feels much more natural!"
"Yes, just what Camelot needs- another uppity manservant with secrets," Gwaine growled.
MERLIN101010101010101010MERLIN
The crowd roared to life when Merlin walked into the oval ring, his dark clothes standing out against the whiteness of the sand. He cut a handsome figure, walking as tall and confidently as any Knight who had likely graced these grounds. His black velvet cloak flapped in the light wind, seeming to absorb the sunlight that was slowly becoming brighter as the nearly midmorning sun continued its journey upward. The hilts of the long daggers sheathed on each side of his thighs glinted as he walked. A small, lithe frame didn't take away from the stature of the man.
Gwen chewed her bottom lip, looking around them. They hadn't expected so many, to be honest, but the seats were brimming to overflowing with very guard, solider, and Knight who had been involved in the battle. A friendly bout to wear off some energy had been the talk since its announcement yesterday afternoon, apparently.
"My brother looks magnificent," Durstan whispered beside her. "Truly a pride to our family!"
"He does, doesn't he?" She smiled at the Prince. "You truly do consider him your Brother, don't you?"
Durstan shrugged. "He is. That he's adopted makes no difference to us. That's why it's so rare for the royal house to risk Victim Rights, Gwen. He is our kin, now and forevermore. We will support him, and love him, as such. When he comes to Dumnonia, my mother will embrace him as a woman as well as a Queen."
"I don't even know your Mother's name!" Gwen realized.
"She has none, Gwen. It is our custom that she gave up her name and identity when she took the throne. She is permitted to be only Queen, and Mother. My father was also King and Father. When the time comes, my oldest brother will do the same. It's why I only ever use the names of those younger than him."
Merlin stopped, and as he had been instructed to do, gave a little show with his blades, flipping them and circling them.
"A natural showman! I'm glad Ian was able to relay my instructions. Look at the crowd!" Durstan whooped.
She narrowed her eyes. "You're excited for this!"
"Today he represents my Kingdom, Gwen. Is this so different from the tournaments you hold in Camelot?"
"Well, no, but it's quite unusual to see well known lovers facing each other."
"All will be well, Gwen. This fight was never meant to reach a conclusion, though it saddens my heart a little. Who would win between them, I wonder?"
"Durstan, what have you done?" she hissed under her breath as Merlin drew closer.
"Be at ease, my Lady. All will be well," he repeated, whispering to her.
They turned as the crowd roared again, the challenger entering from the other side. He was an impressive figure, with some bulk to him visible even under the layers of armor. The Camelot red and gold of his cloak rippled as he walked, equally confidently, even going so far as to wave at the crowd, who howled support in response despite the fact that they couldn't see his face through his helmet. His own broad sword hanging on one hip, he lifted the arm holding his shield to them again, receiving another outcry.
Jeers began in the crowd between those shouting for Dumnonia, and those for Camelot. The clinking of gold coins and the calling of the odds could be heard clearly, and small kegs of ale were passed around by peddlers. Somehow, this had gotten much larger than intended.
When the two stood in front of her and Durstan, they both bowed to them, and the noise died so quickly a whisper could be heard across the open space.
"My Brother, Elder Prince Merlin, Champion of Dumnonia, you have been Challenged to demonstrate your skill with a rather unique weapon. Your opponent bears right to a sword and shield in full armor. Should you prove the vitality of your chosen weapons, there may be some changes coming to Dumnonia," Durstan shouted. There was a roar of laughter from the Dumnonian soldiers. "Do you accept the challenge in the terms put forth?"
"I do," Merlin replied confidently. He did a quick draw, spun the blades with his fingers, and sheathed them again, drawing another roar and applause. Gwen was a little surprised, but she supposed she shouldn't be. Merlin had always been quite adept at working a crowd. She had to cover her mouth to hide her smile when his opponent snorted. She cleared her throat, and opened her mouth, but Durstan wasn't finished.
"Your Highness, it is with the deepest respect that I make a request. Your magic is known to all. Should you succeed, I wouldn't want your victory soiled by rumor of cheating," Durstan called out loudly. The crowd booed and hissed, but there were none who called out actively against it. Taking a scroll out, Durstan held it high. "We, who are low before you, Emrys, request that you consent to being bound to this spell. It will not harm you, and will temporarily contain your magic." The Prince unrolled it, and held it out flat to him.
Merlin swallowed, but nodded, moving forward. Gwen saw him hesitate only a moment before he placed his hand flat on it. She glanced sideways, saw the uneasy tension that had appeared in the other man, but he made no move to dispute it.
Merlin's eyes burned that beautiful gold as he spoke. "Fordyttest dreócræft!" he cast, yelling it loudly, wincing as he felt the binding begin. Breathing heavily, he stepped back. Raising his arms so everyone could see, he smashed them together at the wrists, creating a flash of light, as he shouted "Táim faoi cheangal," though few would recognize it as a ritual statement rather than a part of the spell.
She watched in concern as the dragons on the vambraces glowed a deep red, and Merlin started to bend forward a little, obviously in some pain, but managed to keep them together until the glow faded. The man beside him took a step toward him, a concerned hand held toward him, but Merlin shook his head, lowering his arms, shaking them.
"I'm alright, friend, thank you. It's fair, after all." He flashed a grin. "At least they know they'll get a good show now, eh?"
Gwen breathed a sigh of relief, nodding at Durstan. Her turn now. "As the Challenger, and Champion of Camelot, do you call these terms fair and acknowledge that the matter of magic has been settled, Arthur, King of Camelot?" she called out.
Arthur removed his helmet, nodding. "I do," he yelled over the sudden noise of the crowd.
MERLIN101010101010MERLIN
Arthur kept a very close eye on his lover during his reveal, watching his reaction. He'd give Merlin credit. The shock that crossed his face was fleeting, instantly replaced by a grim resolve. Up until now, the boys' entire demeanor had been one of fun, though tense with barely contained patience and energy for the ceremonial beginning.
"So it's like that, then, is it?" Merlin asked him.
Arthur nodded, holding his eyes. "It's like that."
"Fine. But I'm not holding back."
"I'd be terribly disappointed if you did," Arthur replied honestly. Then he hesitated, pointing at the spelled vambraces. "Those aren't hurting you, are they? That was never part of this, I'm not sure why Durstan did it. I never considered for a second you would use magic to cheat in this."
Merlin frowned, looking down at them. There was a faint flicker of gold in his eyes, and he winced, hissing, but then he shook his head. "Only if I tried to access it. Considering what I am, I think it's more than fair." He took a deep breath and shook his arm again.
"Are you ready?" Arthur asked after a moment.
"Let's go give them a show, shall we?"
MERLIN101010101010MERLIN
Ten minutes into the fight, and Gwen could barely stand to watch any more. It was clear neither man was holding back, and there'd be bruises aplenty from this. No cuts so far, thankfully.
"They are dancing beautifully," Durstan noted, shouting support when Merlin used a sweeping leg to knock Arthur down for the fourth time. He still hadn't armed himself, and had instead concentrated on dodging, blocking with his braces, and working to knock Arthur down as often possible. "OH! YES!" Durstan hooted as Merlin took his King down, again! "Look at that speed!"
"I don't understand. Arthur's not holding back. Why isn't Merlin armed?" Gwen panicked. She'd attended many tournaments, but this was so different. It was hurting her heart to see her two best friends at odds with each other, even in a light competition. She wished she could summon Durstan obvious enthusiasm and enjoyment. She'd been terrified that revealing Arthur's identity would hamper the warlock, but now her biggest concern was that, if anything, it seemed to increase both their genuine efforts to win the match.
"Don't you see, My Lady? The daggers are close combat weapons. As long as Arthur has the shield, they're all but useless. My Prince is trying to make the shield as big a liability as possible for the King! Very clever! There? See! Arthur's thrown away his shield!" The Princes' eyes were alight with mirth, delighting in the competition.
"How can you bear to watch this?" Gwen asked.
Durstan looked at her, smiling. "I promised you all would be well, and it will be. Long before they manage to seriously hurt each other. In the meantime, I intend to enjoy the fight. This is as close as we'll ever come to having an accurate guess at which one of them would win. Arthur is strong, well trained, disciplined- look at how steady he is in his footwork! Truly a Master of his weapon. Merlin is younger with his, but he's so fast, darting in and out, constantly moving, taking every advantage of the slower swing of the sword. He's making good use of his pivot circles. Oh yes, my Lady, incredibly exciting!"
Gwen watched for a few minutes more, watched as Merlin rolled out of the way of a powerful swing of Arthur's sword, his daggers finally drawn by the time he reached his feet. It was impressive, she had to admit, as Merlin fell for a feint, barely managing to block the blow with the opposite arm, but having no chance to gain enough balance to swing with his second dagger. The sound of steel sword hitting the steel brace thrown up in defense carried through the ring.
Actually, she considered, it was very exciting, at that.
MERLIN10101010101010MERLIN
Merlin was breathing heavily, and was starting to understand where his disadvantage was. His style required a lot of movement, took a lot of stamina. Arthur's footwork was stable, balanced, and required very little correction. Add on top of that a lifetime of training going against only a few years, and even with the energy coursing through him, Merlin knew he couldn't keep it up much longer.
He raised his arm to block another blow with the brace, wincing as it vibrated down through his arm, reaching out with his second blade into the opening Arthur left him, sliding it into the open side of Arthur's armor, allowing only the tip to penetrate the weak point of the chainmaille.
Arthur gasped, going down to one knee when he felt the minor stab. He made a mental note to pay much closer attention to Merlin's time in the Garden in the future. The younger man was quick, confident, and where had he learned that much stamina?
"Yield, Arthur," Merlin told him, flipping his blades as he backed up, allowing him time to recover. "That could have gone much deeper. The next one might."
"I won't," Arthur replied evenly, understanding Merlin wouldn't come after him again until he rose- despite the calls to 'finish him' coming from the crowd. He rose to his feet, taking up his stance again.
"Why are you doing this?" Merlin growled, catching Arthur's next swing in between his blade, twisting them to throw it aside. Even still, his arm burned where the tip dragged across it when Arthur used his own momentum to thrust back at him. He barely felt it through the hum that increased inside him.
"You wanted to fight, Merlin, so stop talking and fight!" Arthur twirled away from the blade that nearly took of his ear, sliding a shallow cut across Merlin's side that the younger man didn't even seem to feel.
"I didn't want to fight you!" Merlin hissed, managing to duck around and take a slash at Arthur's calf, which the King barely avoided with a back step that left him unstable. Moving quickly, Merlin danced around him, managed to get Arthur's sword in between his blades, twisting sharply. He would have successfully disarmed his lover if it wasn't for the fist Arthur pounded into his unprotected ribs, breaking his hold.
"Are you sure about that?" Arthur called, dancing backwards. "Cause it seems like you're willing to fight everyone else. What? I'm too strong an opponent?"
Merlin whirled, planting his foot firmly on Arthur's, delivering a vicious upper cut that left the King staggering, pulled just enough so as not to break his lover's jaw. Just.
"I don't want to hurt you," Merlin pleaded. "Not again. I would never have accepted if I'd known it was you." He flattened himself to the ground to miss a swing that may have taken off his head if he'd been a second slower. Swinging his legs, he caught Arthur just behind the knees, bringing him down to his knees. The move left him defenseless, and Arthur didn't hesitate to punch the hilt of his sword into his thigh- hard!
"You should have thought about before entering my arena, Merlin. I can't match you in magic, but this… this is my world!" Arthur informed him, rolling, twisting midway to plunge the hilt into Merlin's stomach, trying to knock the wind from him.
"We both know I'll let you cut me to pieces before hurting you," Merlin gasped out. He shuddered as a wave of that unusual energy went through him, and he danced left, feinting, then whirled sharply right.
Arthur moved his sword up quickly, barely blocking the blade that was inches from his eye, grunting at the effort of holding it at bay as Merlin pressed forward. "Then yield!" Arthur growled. "If you truly don't want to fight me, yield!"
Arthur was stunned when tear filled azure eyes met his, a look of incredible terror and panic in them. "I can't," Merlin whispered. "I don't know how else to burn it." Then those eyes shut him out again, clouding over as he pushed off, twisting around to bring his blade lightly across the back of Arthur's thigh.
Arthur grunted, limping away from the strike, playing right into Merlin's follow up- his elbow into the back of Arthur's head, just hard enough to lightly stun him- and found himself on one knee, Merlin's dagger held shakily to his throat. Merlin had won. The screams from the crowd made it clear they'd seen it too.
"Yield," Merlin called.
Arthur looked at him, saw the shaking muscles, felt the blade dancing lightly across the skin on his throat, the wide eyes, the other blade poised for the finishing blow. He saw the boy was soaked in sweat. Everything about should have screamed exhaustion, but it didn't. He was still, somehow, humming with that energy, vibrating with it. His breaths coming in ragged draws, even the up and down movement of his chest jerky.
And suddenly, Arthur understood. He knew what this was all about. He wanted to laugh and wanted to cry all at once. He'd been such an arrogant fool!
"No."
With a roar of frustration, Merlin flung himself back, dancing back and forth, as he waited for Arthur to get up, the crowd shouting at them, encouraging them to yield. Arthur did so slowly. His own muscles were shaking with exhaustion. Merlin was, indeed, skilled with his daggers. And as ruthless a fighter as Arthur had ever seen, not that he should be surprised given that Gwaine had been his trainer. And the warlock had always been at his best when backed into a corner.
Merlin continued to pace back and forth, flipping his daggers as he did so, for all the world looking like a caged cat. Arthur was sure if he had a tail, he'd be swishing it. His tunic was soaked in sweat, but everything about the impatient energy indicated he was ready to go for hours more.
Arthur took his time in taking off each piece of his armor, watching his lover as he did so. Watched those eyes get wider even as he paced, occasionally giving a little hop, swinging his arms back and forth to loosen them.
The King dropped the last piece into the pile, barely bringing his sword up to defend against Merlin's charge.
MERLIN10101010101MERLIN
Gwen grabbed Durstan's hand.
"This has gone far enough," she said. "End it. Now."
Durstan nodded, watching the two with concern. Just as Merlin managed to get his leg under Arthur's ankles again, he ripped the scroll in half.
MERLIN1010101010MERLIN
Merlin cried out just as Arthur's back hit the ground, and the King didn't hesitate to roll up, expecting to defend. But rather instead of taking advantage of Arthur's vulnerable position, Merlin dropped to his knees, holding his arms out in front of him as the dragons on the dented vambraces glowed briefly white, then died out.
Instantly, Arthur was on his knees next to his trembling warlock. Something had changed. Merlin was trying to curl into himself, either in pain, or like he did when he was trying to hold something in.
"Merlin!"
"Get them out!" Merlin hissed, looking at his King desperately with violently swirling molten gold eyes. "My magic… get them out!"
Arthur was running before he'd finished his last word, shouting at everyone to leave the ring, immediately.
Durstan looked troubled as he ran onto the field to meet Arthur, Gwen not far behind him. "What's wrong?"
"The binding on Merlin's magic has come apart. He's losing control of it as it comes back to him. Get everyone out of the immediate area as fast as you can!" Arthur ordered. His expression softened when he saw the horrified look on Durstan's face. "It's alright, Durstan, it wasn't your spell. There's something much bigger going on. I'll explain later. Go on now, get these people to safety."
Gwen reached out, grabbing his arm as he went to return to the warlock. "Arthur, what about you?"
"I'll be fine, Gwen. His magic can't hurt me. Don't worry. This won't hurt either of us, but I'm not willing to take that gamble on whoever else it touches. As long he's holding both, there's no way to predict the outcome if either get loose before he's ready. Make sure you clear out the tents. We don't have much time. Go!"
He turned back to his lover, skidding to one knee next to him, a plan already forming.
"Merlin, can you walk?"
Merlin nodded, and let himself be helped to his feet, his arm pulled over Arthur's shoulder as the King led him away from the ring, toward the forested area behind it. It didn't take long before Arthur was hauling more than helping as they half ran. "Hang on, Merlin," Arthur whispered.
"It's too strong," Merlin gasped.
"We're almost there," Arthur reassured, making a sharp turn, bringing them to some caves he remembered playing in as a child. If they could make it just a few more feet, there was a deep crater. "Almost."
"Arthur!" Merlin cried out, throwing himself forward, barely catching himself on his arms, his head hanging down as he shook. A pulse emanated from him as he jerked.
Arthur knelt next to him, rubbing his back. "Merlin, Love, focus on me for a moment," Arthur ordered urgently. He pointed to right in front of them. "That crater goes so far down you never hear the rock hit the bottom. I need you to focus your magic into it."
Merlin shook his head. "No… Arthur, you don't understand…" He cried out as another pulse came from him.
"I do, Merlin, you need to trust me. Please! Use your magic. We'll deal with the other after but as long as you're holding both in, they are dangerous. You can't contain them both, not for much longer," Arthur insisted. "Let your magic go… it's the only one of the two you can control! Do it!"
Cursing, Merlin looked at the crater, his eyes flashing gold, screaming as flames poured into it. Arthur flung up an arm to protect his eyes from the heat as they were fed into the crater, turning his head away. He gasped as he felt his lungs burn a little when the moisture in the air evaporated. He heard explosions of rock echo up through the crater as the stone itself heated.
Then suddenly it stopped, and Merlin was slowly pushing himself to his knees, coughing on the dry air. He was still vibrating, but his eyes were blue again as he panted.
"Impressive. No more binding spells for you," Arthur noted with a grin, seeing the cavern was well lit up with still molten rock. Merlin grunted, but could do no more than cough violently. He wished he had some water to offer the warlock but he'd brought none, his first priority getting them somewhere safe Merlin could release the build up of magic caused by the binding spell.
"Arthur…" Merlin groaned, his shaking becoming more violent.
"Do you know what's happening to you?" Arthur asked, putting a hand on his lovers' shoulder.
Merlin shook his head. "No. It feels… Arthur, it's hard to breathe," he gasped.
"I know. The binding spell made this all so much worse, but it only added to an existing problem, sped it up. Merlin, focus on me. Tell me why you've been fighting."
"Energy," Merlin gasped. "There's so much of it, since I woke up. Gwaine and I were at the tavern. We got into a fight. It burned off a lot of it."
Arthur nodded, his suspicions confirmed. "Well, it's good to know you didn't actually want to kill me," Arthur deadpanned. "I was starting to think you were drawing out the fight just to properly humiliate me."
Merlin shook his head, trying to take deep breaths, only to find himself coughing on them again. "Never wanted to hurt you again, Arthur. Just… couldn't stop… it wasn't burning off… there's so much of it..."
"Because of the binding spell. In trying to do what's best for you, Merlin, Durstan and I both made some very big mistakes." He wrapped his hand around Merlin's arm. "Come on, you need to move or it's going to suffocate you."
Arthur hauled him up, pulling his arm over his shoulders again, could see the lack of air was making the younger man dazed. "We're going to be moving very quickly. You need fresh air," he explained, already starting to move forward out of the cave. "There's a lake about two miles west from here. As soon as you can breathe again, I want you to head for it at a dead run."
"Arthur…" Merlin objected, even as he gulped in the fresh air that hit them when they exited.
"I mean it, Merlin, run as fast as you can for as long as you can. I know your body is tired, but you've got to burn some of this off. I'll catch up as quickly as I can, but don't go into the water! Your body will have nothing left after that, and you'll drown- do you understand?" Arthur pressed urgently, feeling the shaking getting worse even as his lover's breathing began to even out.
Merlin nodded. "I understand."
"Trust me, alright? I know what this is," Arthur reassured.
They stumbled forward for about another ten minutes when his lover wrenched loose of him, then took off. Arthur let him go, taking a moment to catch his own breath. He would have given anything to stay with the warlock, but Merlin had always been faster than him- the advantages of his light frame.
Taking a moment, he started to strip until he was down to his tunic, pants, and boots. Everything else that would weigh him down was in a pile. He needed every advantage for speed he could get. He sighed. A hard run on top of his cuts and bruises sounded like a good punishment for his arrogance in thinking Merlin was acting strangely because of him, for not looking closer. Damn him for the fool he was!
And now he had two miles to figure out how to shove two buckets of water into one without spilling a drop.
He ran.
MERLIN1010101010101010MERLIN
Arthur bent over, sucking in his breath, when he finally came to the lake. He thought his old sword teacher would be impressed with the time he'd made in each mile. The man loved to send them running under the pretense of stamina training. It didn't take them long to figure out the old man would enjoy some time with his flask while they were gone.
Feeling his breathing finally even out, he looked around the Lake- relieved not to see Merlin in it- for his lover, and found him sitting calmly on a log just past the edge of the lake, boots off and feet swishing back and forth in the water. He looked better, wasn't shaking anymore.
Well, at least he mostly listened, Arthur thought, walking over to him. The lake was tempting him, too. Removing his shirt, he tossed it flat to dry on the grass, since it was completely drenched in sweat, next to Merlin's equally slowly drying shirt. Perhaps he should moderate himself a little more at the feasts, or spend a little extra time training.
"Feeling better?" Arthur asked, sitting on the sand to take off his own boots.
Merlin looked at him, nodding. "A little more stable." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Arthur. For the fight."
"Don't be. I was impressed. You're probably lucky I didn't find out what you were capable of years ago. You'd have been a Knight of Camelot!" Arthur chuckled. "And no, before you start to think it, I wasn't holding back."
"The Code of Camelot would have prevented that. I was safe," Merlin teased back with a smile.
"From that, perhaps. But not from becoming a frequently used sparring partner. Really, Merlin. You're quick, agile, strong, adaptable… everything I look for in a Knight. You won that fight against superior skill, a larger opponent, and against a fully armored foe," Arthur complimented sincerely. "I'm almost appalled it was done in the name of Dumnonia rather than Camelot. And if a word of what I've just said reaches Gwaine's ears, I swear I'll put you in the stocks for a month!"
"To be fair, I have cleaned and put that armor on you so often I know every weak spot on it. I did take advantage of that," Merlin offered with a laugh.
"Of course you did. You're supposed to, Merlin." Arthur shot him a look, noticed a barely visible shudder in the younger man. "We'll have to try that again when you're not carrying around the energies of the cosmos inside you." Two miles to think, and he was no closer to a solution now than when he'd started out.
Merlin frowned at him. "How come you get to remember little bits and pieces, like knowing in this Age what the word 'cosmos' means, and I feel like I'm going to shake apart any second?"
"Because I was only the bridge to keep you tethered to your task, Love. You… transcended to being a whole other level of existence. As you said, for a little while you were the essence of creation itself. How small your body must feel now, how restraining. "
"But it was contained," Merlin countered, leaning into his lover when Arthur sat next to him on the log, sighing in relief as the cool water hit his burning feet. "I know those shields were holding."
"I think this is my fault. I think when I tore that secret from you, I weakened what I had built. I've never used the Bond like that before, never used it to hurt you. I was… frightened… of it, to be honest. I haven't been using it to reinforce what was protecting you," Arthur admitted softly as he wrapped the younger man in his arms. "I… I took something from you that you didn't want to give, that you were willing to rip yourself apart to protect, and I did it purely on instinct. I've been terrified to reach for it ever since."
"The Bond didn't hurt me, Arthur. I did, trying to protect something that I knew would hurt you very badly to know. And I was right, by the way," Merlin murmured. "I have as much confidence in believing the Bond can't hurt me as you do in knowing my magic can't hurt you. By themselves, they're harmless. It's not until you add what you and I can do to each other, and to ourselves, that things get messy." He sighed contentedly. "Gods, I've missed this. Just being held by you."
"Why didn't you tell me what was happening?" Arthur asked, feeling his lover tense, another shudder going through him. It was building again.
"Because when you said you were done sacrificing, and done letting me do it in your stead, I felt it, felt how true that was for you. And then I forced you to do it anyway. I have no excuse of being possessed this time. I did it deliberately. I've never wanted to hurt you like that, but I did it without hesitation, for the good of a future that neither of us would be around to see. I betrayed you, Arthur. I... I didn't think you could bear to be around me, not after that."
Arthur tightened his arms when he felt the younger man try to move away from him. "Don't… don't run from me," he whispered, nuzzling his lovers ear. "No matter what, Merlin, never run from me again. Swear it."
Merlin closed his eyes as he settled back, gasping when he felt Arthur's lips on his throat. "Never again," he promised.
"And you need to know, I'm not angry, I never was. I knew you'd find a way to do it, Love, because that's who you are," Arthur murmured, giving a light bite to Merlin's pulse point, adoring the moan he received in response. "I love you, Merlin, with all that I am, and I would not willingly deny you anything you ever asked. But I have been known to stand my ground in order to protect you from yourself. That you asked it of me knowing how I felt, dared to wield that power over me in such a way… I was powerless to stop you from making this sacrifice, and I knew it."
"A son, Arthur," Merlin panted as Arthur sucked hard on his throat, marking him, claiming him back.
Arthur froze, his heart stopping with the words. "A son?" he whispered. He couldn't deny the feeling that swelled in his heart at the idea. He'd meant everything he told Merlin. That being the end of the Pendragon line didn't bother him. But to know… a son. The continuation of an empire, his final duty met. The Crowned Prince of Albion, not just Camelot. His breath exploded out of him as he realized he'd been holding it.
Merlin nodded, smiling. "A beautiful, golden haired, little boy with your eyes, and your mother's gentle smile. He loves to laugh, Arthur, and is a good, pure soul. To have met him, and recognized so much of you in him- how could I not instantly love him? How could I not give all I am, risk everything, to ensure his birth?"
Arthur laughed, putting a hand over his mouth as a joy he'd never experienced filled him. Tears came to his eyes. "You've given me a son," he half laughed, half sobbed, holding the man more tightly to him.
"Mithian…." Merlin corrected.
"Is a means to an end, a tool, nothing more. This child is ours, Love," Arthur interrupted. "Our son." The words filled him with a tenderness he thought he'd never get tired of feeling. "Marry me, Merlin."
"That's not funny."
"I'm serious," Arthur turned the younger man in his arms so they were facing each other, his one hand running up and down a shaking arm, the other cupping his beloved's face. "Under Camelot and Nemeth Laws I will marry Mithian- only because they'd never recognize you. But under Dumnonian Laws, I can marry you, Elder Prince, sanctioned by their laws and religion. Because you're a man, they've made allowances for the need to marry a woman, but they would recognize only our marriage. There is nothing in Camelot law saying I can't do both, only that an heir… our son, Merlin… needs be provided."
Merlin shifted. "Arthur, those titles..."
"Are all honestly earned, in battle if not by lineage, Merlin. You have more than enough scars to prove each one," Arthur pointed out, regretfully tracing some with his fingers.
"But it's birth that matters. I was born a peasant, and will always be a peasant. Peasant's don't marry Kings, no matter how prettily you dress them up," Merlin insisted, plucking at the fine black pants.
Arthur laughed at him. "Merlin, you were born Emrys, the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth and Dragonlord descended. You were born of Destiny itself. You were born to rule by my side, an equal to balance the power of the Once and Future King. Titles are a thing of man, Love, and you were born to be so much more than they could ever begin to issue you. The titles you carry are merely a way of lowering your birthright into a status us lowly mortal men can comprehend, to fit you inside a category that makes sense to us. You were raised a peasant, Merlin, but you were never born one. When they day comes that they name me High King, I will gladly bend knee to you to prove it, if I must."
Merlin shuddered, the words of Sigan returning to him. 'Arthur will kneel at your feet.' "I don't want that," he repeated strongly now, to both his King and the memory. "Never that. I was born to serve you, Arthur, and I'm proud of that, whatever else I was born to be."
"Then serve me, Merlin- as Prince, Consort, Warlock, Duke, Dragonlord, Knight- knowing always in your heart that the High King of Albion would learn to walk on his knees in reverence to the birthright you carry, grateful and humbled in the knowledge that you, Mighty Emrys, have chosen to serve a lesser being."
Arthur leaned in, capturing those lips that were opening and closing in shock, grinning as they instantly responded to him, moving with his. "Marry me," he whispered against them. He shivered as he felt Merlin's delicate fingers tracing his powerful jaw as it worked, taking and giving everything their joined mouths could offer each other. "Marry me, my Lord."
"Yes," Merlin murmured back, moaning when Arthur's delighted growl hummed through him, their tongues reaching for each other at the same time. "Gods, yes," he repeated, diving in deeper, claiming everything that was his, would always be his.
Arthur didn't hesitate in lifting his lover- his betrothed, and didn't that word send shivers to every part of him!- and moving them, ignoring the splash of cold water against his calves. He continued to taste, continued to explore, even as he gently laid the younger man on the sand.
For a moment, he understood how it must feel to be so small a container for such overwhelming emotion. Everything in him felt it would explode with the joy and love he was trying to contain. He nipped at the swan like throat that arched for him, exposing more of itself, begging for his touch.
"Mark me, Arthur," Merlin moaned. "Show them all who I belong to."
"Gods, Merlin!" Growling, Arthur's hips bucked involuntarily at the words- nearly finishing him by themselves- his lips reached for the spot just under the sensitive earlobe even as his hand worked furiously to undo the laces of both their pants, feeling their joint arousal straining against the material. He sucked hard, feeling the blood coming to the surface, using his tongue to soothe it.
Once done, he worked to rid them both of the barrier between their skin, shuddering as Merlin's hips bucked into his when he bit his way across the delicate collar bone, letting his tongue dip into the small hollow beneath the bobbing apple, flicking it lightly, before using his lips to apply a hard suction.
"Arthur! Ah, yes!" Merlin pushed his hips up, and Arthur cried out when that length slid easily against his girth, the small frame pressing up against his own as it moved, as if designed to be nowhere else but here, in his arms, built to respond to every bite, lick, tickle or suction his whim could devise. All for him. Arthur growled at the thought, biting hard on the thin shoulder, gentling it immediately with a flick on his tongue, driving his hips in the body beneath him that cried out, submitting completely to him, and only ever him.
"Merlin, I can't… I'm too close…" he groaned out when Merlin pushed up again, his head thrown back with lips parted at the pleasure of their sensitive skins clashing against each other. Sunlight hitting the sable hair made the sand in it glitter, those dark lashes of the closed eyes clashing against the porcelain skin. Arthur bowed his own neck to taste that magnificent canvas that responded to the lightest and heaviest of his touches.
"Oh gods," Merlin cried out, bucking again. He needed more! "Now, Arthur," he begged.
"No, Merlin…" Arthur shook his head. For all the joy in his heart, he wouldn't hurt his lover. "No oil."
"Don't care." Merlin rammed his shaft against Arthur's, trying to impress his needs through it, shuddering as Arthur responded automatically in kind, meeting him thrust for thrust. It was deliciously good, but he needed so much more! "Please!"
Sweeping the pearl from his own tip, Arthur reached up with his stained finger, dragging it lightly across the begging lips, thrusting harder when Merlin's tongue darted out to taste him, then took his finger into his mouth, sucking at it, working it with his tongue much as Arthur knew that talented mouth could work his shaft.
"Oh Merlin, my love, you are glorious!" Arthur panted, moving his other hand to the puckered entrance. He was surprised to feel just how ready his lover was, easily slipping his fingers in one at a time. He worked it, even as his eyes stayed glued to the visual of his lover working his finger. He cried out when Merlin sucked particularly hard in response to his own hard press against that secret spot inside the warmth of his lovers body, found for some odd reason the sensations traveled through his entire body.
He pressed again, feeling the muted cry that translated from his finger to his shaft, transfixed as Merlin arched, never releasing his finger. By the gods it was too much! He lined himself up, crooked his fingers- hard- expertly replacing his fingers with his member even as Merlin finally released his finger to scream his bliss.
Despite the lack of oil, Arthur sank in easily, Merlin's body opening to him like welcoming him home. "Gods, Merlin," Arthur moaned, taking a moment to try and gain control.
"Reach for it, Arthur," Merlin gasped out, already moving his hips against the fullness inside him, impatient for the heights he knew Arthur could drive his body to.
"No…" Arthur shook his head. "It hurt you… AH! Merlin! Yes!... not enough control…"
"I trust it, Arthur," Merlin panted. "I trust you. Reach for the Bond!" he commanded.
Almost as if responding to his tone, the Bond leapt up in Arthur, and he cried out as Merlin's ecstasy combined with his own. Too much! He moved now, thrusting hard, feeling the Bond wrap around them both, felt himself becoming almost one with the fey creature underneath him. He felt his eyes burn with it even as he changed his angle, driving more pleasure from the body that he was working.
"Deeper, Arthur," Merlin panted. "Go deeper."
"Merlin, no…"
"Take all of me, my King, my love… you won't hurt me…" Merlin cried out as Arthur increased his pace, overwhelmed with the combined physical and emotional connection. He drank it all in, let it wash over him. Willingly, he pushed his magic toward it, screaming when Arthur hit that spot inside him at the same time as the Bond eagerly took all he was offering, lighting up every one of his nerves. "Yes, oh yes… Arthur!"
Arthur gasped as he slipped further into the Bond, felt his eyes blacken, narrowing his vision to seeing only the bright soul and power he was a part of, could see the pulses of pleasure as they made their way through the body. Reaching the core of it, he wrapped himself around it, hid nothing, exposed everything, gave all he was to it.
There… he could see the break in his shields, even as he felt how close the younger man was. He moved faster, yelling out when he felt it vibrate into the Bond. They were so close to that edge… he had to fix it… oh gods…
"ARTHUR!" Merlin screamed, stuttering in his pace to keep up even as that exquisite pleasure burned on the edge of agony. Without hesitation, Arthur reached for the leaking shaft, encasing in it a hand that moved quickly in time with his thrusts, pumping fast and furious to keep up with his own pace.
The Bond exploded into waves even as Merlin's muscles clamped and rippled around him, the body arching up against him, pressing into him as ropes of essence were felt on his hand. Arthur's deep bellow of achievement mixed with Merlin's as he pressed in, spilling deep into the body even while the Bond poured himself into that soul.
He felt as the waves moved out from the core, felt it as they settled into the cracks in the shields he had previously made, felt as they healed everything they touched, rebuilt and strengthened what he had damaged. He gasped, feeling his own body shuddering in response as they kept coming, kept washing over them, pushing them both beyond the limits of their physical bodies.
When at last they settled, both men panting for breath, Arthur released the Bond, slowly easing out of it and the body of his lover at the same time. His vision returning to normal to watch the final convulsions of pleasure of his betrothed. He leaned over, grabbing those lips, determined to catch the breath that came from them, tasting himself on the tongue that reached back for him.
Slowly, Merlin relaxed in his arms, his lips moving less, and Arthur pulled back, using one hand to brush sweat soaked bangs from his brow. "You are a wonder, Love," Arthur breathed out, lightly brushing those lips again. He felt Merlin's body relaxing to slack in his arms, and concern flared in him. "Are you alright?"
Merlin nodded, his eyes fluttering. "You did it," he whispered, and Arthur could hear the exhaustion in his voice. "The energy is gone." He blinked. "So tired, suddenly."
Arthur moved then, twisting them around so that he was lying on the sand, providing a pillow as he pulled his sleepy lover over him. Merlin took only a moment to settle himself before the steadying rhythm of Arthur's heartbeat soothed him into sleep.
Arthur sighed happily, holding his lover securely to him. Merlin was always one to sleep afterwards, especially if Arthur had pushed him to his limits- which the King took great pleasure in doing as often as possible. Added to that days without proper sleep, the fights, their battle, the binding spell, the release of his contained magic, and a two mile dead run… with the source of abundant and unnatural energy now contained, it didn't surprise him Merlin's body would demand its rest.
He was content to let him sleep for now. He watched the white clouds drift across the mid-afternoon sky, taking the time to enjoy his lover's easy breathing against him. His betrothed. He was going to marry the marvel in his arms. The miracle that would give him a son, something he'd never truly considered himself wanting beyond duty until he'd heard to words from Merlin's mouth.
Balinor, he silently named his son. A legacy to the powerful line that would make him possible.