Title: Archimedes: Part 2 - The Endless Waltz
Author: Lassroyale
Rating: PG-13
Warning: All of Season 1 just to be safe
Disclaimer: All the pretty boys are belong to...the BBC. Not me, sadly. I just play and torment, just a little
Parings: Merlin/Arthur (established)
Word Count: 3579
Summary: After the Questing Beast, Merlin realized that he is going to need help keeping and eye on Arthur.
A/N: Part 2 to the story. This changed a little bit from what I had originally outlined and it looks like the overall arc will be longer too. The name of Arthur's hound will be changing. ;) Title is from Gundam Wing.
I'm also having trouble finding a beta for this fic, so once again it is just checked by me. All mistakes are my own. I tried to keep it as IC as I could.
***
Uther Pendragon had spared no expense for his son's birthday and it seemed that the lord and ladies who attended the feast hadn't spared any expense in the gifts they brought, either. Each one was more lavish (and gaudier) than the next. It was obvious that many members of the court sought favor with the young prince through the heaviness of their wallets, though most of the presents paled in comparison to Uther's gift.
The king had earlier that day presented his son with a warhorse, the finest stallion in all the land, or so he had proclaimed. The horse was a beast, a solid 19 hands in height with a glossy, charcoal grey coat and hooves that were sharp and as large as saucers. He was spirited and temperamental, and he absolutely hated Merlin - something which they had discovered when Arthur had taken him down to the stables to oversee the grooming of the beast. The stallion had greeted Arthur with a soft, pleased wicker of recognition, taken one look at Merlin, and his pert ears fell back flat against his head. He then proceeded to try and bite the sorcerer's shoulder when Merlin drew too near.
Of course Arthur found it all terribly amusing and immediately named the horse Hero, despite the dark look Merlin threw him and the cursed beast.
"Those bloody hooves would make a lot of glue for your subjects, sire," muttered Merlin, eying Hero warily as he attempted to make peace with him by offering a carrot. He narrowly managed to snatch back his hand in time to keep all his fingers. As it was there was a loud ripping noise and Merlin glared at the stallion, who now had a good portion of his right sleeve between his teeth. Arthur laughed and made a clicking noise with his tongue. Hero tossed his magnificent head and sort of wheezed through his nostrils in such a way that it sounded suspiciously like an equine snicker.
Merlin fixed the horse with a withering glance and stepped back, well out of the creature's reach. "I think your fine steed is sick, Arthur. You should put him down immediately." He paused. "I'll help you myself," he added with false sweetness.
The prince merely rolled his eyes and tugged the piece of brown fabric from Hero's teeth. He handed it to the sorcerer who snatched it with long, quick fingers.
"Honestly Merlin, I thought all of the sword practice I make you go through would have sharpened your reflexes by now." A positively wicked glint entered his blue eyes and he took a step towards the slender youth. Woe to those who thought the Prince too dense for deviousness, for when he had the mind to be he could positively sinful. "Perhaps, Merlin," said Arthur with his trademark smirk, "I am keeping you up too late at night? Maybe our nightly exertions are making you dull and useless during the day. It's making you a worse manservant than usual!" The blonde stepped quite close to the other, crowding his space and used his larger frame to his advantage. He smiled wider until all of his teeth were showing in a fair imitation of wily fox grinning at an unsuspecting hen.
Merlin backed up from Arthur until he felt the hard wood of a stall door against his back, trapping him. The metal latch dug into the flesh below his shoulders and he felt a curious nuzzle from stall's occupant against the nape of his neck. The horse's breath was sticky and hot against his skin and it was overall rather disquieting. Arthur, ever the soldier, pressed his advantage and placed his hands on the stall door on either side of the sorcerer, his fingers resting lightly on the whorled cedar.
"Well? What do you say, are we going to have to cease our nightly dalliances?" asked he, his face mere inches from his lover's. Merlin, though seemingly trapped, met his Prince's eyes unflinchingly. There was a fire within them that was matched by the smoldering heat within Arthur's. His lips twisted into a wry grin.
"I should think sire" began Merlin in a teasing tone, "that you are the one who would a require the extra rest. You seem to fall right asleep after our...late night activities, despite your arguments that you have the better stamina." His deep blue eyes twinkled as Arthur sputtered indignantly.
"Me?!" exclaimed the prince, horrified at the insinuation, "you are the one who is always a bear to wake in the morning and you're grumpy to boot!" Merlin scoffed and tilted closer to Arthur until he could feel the other's warm breath upon his lips.
"It's because your snoring keeps me awake," he replied with a small frown. "Not to mention you hog the covers." Arthur made a noise of keen irritation in the back of his throat but leaned forward as well, his lips ghosting across Merlin's jaw until he reached his ear.
"It is my bed," he growled. "Besides, if you're cold you should wrap yourself around ME."
Merlin felt heat flare across his body as he turned his head and met Arthur's mouth hungrily, devouring the taste of his lover with tongue exploring, darting, daring. The prince in turn plundered his mouth ruthlessly, licking the very essence of him before dropping his head to suck harshly on his skin below his right ear. The sorcerer gasped, his hands flying up to tangle themselves in Arthur's golden locks before sliding them downwards to press deeply into the hard muscle of his shoulders.
Arthur groaned when he felt Merlin's adroit fingers wander to trace the curve of his buttocks and pressed hard against his slender frame when the sorcerer drew the tips of his fingers languidly up again. He could feel the his lover's hardness against his, rubbing intently and creating such delicious friction that he found himself becoming quickly unraveled. If something didn't happen soon, he, Arthur - the Crown Prince, was in clear danger of making a mess of himself in his royal trousers.
Before any of that could come to fruition, however, there was a loud but politely firm interruption from behind them.
"Excuse me, Arthur...and, well! Merlin," said Morgana in a keenly delighted voice, the warm sunlight aglow against her pale skin, "but your father is summoning you both. I think he would like to go over tonight's celebration with you two," she fixed the sorcerer with a pointed stare, "especially you." Her cunning eyes assessed both of the young men critically, noting the rumpled clothing and the sweaty, disheveled hair. "You might want to clean yourselves up before you see you him," she offered with a sly smile. "Especially you, Arthur," she said with a sniff and flip of her dark locks. "You look like you've been playing with your sword for the better part of an hour."
Morgana snickered with the jibe and turned and departed before Arthur could sputter out a retort. She paused at the entrance to the stables and looked back at them, turning slightly with a shift of her skirts. "I knew you two were sleeping together!" she exclaimed with a smug, knowing grin. "Gwen and I were right!" With what was, in Arthur's opinion, a rather evil cackle, Morgana left them, disappearing into the bright daylight.
"She's positively evil," muttered the prince darkly, pushing away from Merlin with a frustrated sigh. He did his best to smooth the wrinkles from his doublet unsuccessfully. "I will go see what my father wants," he paused and grinned suddenly at the sorcerer. He casually pushed a swash of unruly, golden bangs back from his brow and clapped a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Join us after putting Hero in his stall. You two should bond. I plan on going for a ride tomorrow and you will be accompanying me." He smirked and strode out without another word.
Merlin glared daggers at his delectable, retreating backside and turned to the accursed stallion who seemed no more thrilled by the prospect of spending time with him as he did. Hero looked at him grumpily with his ears flat against his skull.
"Come on you beggarly glue bucket," he complained, "let's do what our benevolent prince commands."
***
That had been hours ago. Right then, as Merlin had to listen to about the 20th long-winded speech praising Arthur's health and longevity, he thought he would rather be stuck in a stall with the ill-tempered Hero at that moment. Anything would be better than this. He stifled a bored yawn as he stood to one side with Gwen, who favored him with a small smile of sympathy. How she ever got used to this he didn't know. He didn't think he ever would, no matter how many of these banquets he had been been forced to attend.
Merlin shifted on his feet to keep the blood circulating and his fingers twitched impatiently at his side. Gaius shot him a warning look from across the room he stilled his hands, thrusting them into the shallow pockets of the ridiculous outfit that Uther Pendragon had required he wore; on a suggestion from Arthur, of course. Speaking of which...
Merlin trailed his gaze to where the prince was seated next to his father, a schooled expression of polite interest on his features. His sky blue eyes were trained upon nobleman what's-his-face as the man toasted and simpered and praised the young Pendragon's constitution. The sorcerer could detect the hints of boredom beneath his lover's otherwise polite expression, and he grinned slightly when Arthur shifted his gaze and caught his eye. The corner of the blonde's mouth twitched upwards briefly, so quickly that if one wasn't looking for it it would be missed, before returning his attention to the nobleman as he finished his speech. The room erupted into generous applause and everyone drank(again) to the prince's health.
Things moved quickly after that, for once dinner was finished and all of the gifts had been presented and amassed on a long table that ran the length of the east wall, the guests, wine replacing blood in their veins, found themselves in a festive mood. The crowd mingled as a small orchestra played various waltzes and minuets, and Merlin found himself watching Arthur intently as he danced with several different ladies. He found too, that his stomach twisted with jealousy when the women took their liberties with the handsome prince, trailing their soft hands across his shoulders or boldly down his sides. Arthur always just suffered it with a practiced laugh and smile, one hand firm upon their waists while the other twined gently with their delicate fingers.
After awhile Merlin decided that he needed a distraction. Judging that his sire could take care of himself for a few moments - Arthur should be occupied for a good long while, he figured, what with the line of available noblewomen vying for the next dance - he slipped out a side door into the gardens.
***
The night was warm and it carried with it the distinct perfume of flora and something pleasantly tangy. Furthermore it was refreshing, and Merlin took a large, needful breath, drawing the crisp air deep into his lungs. He glanced up and noted that the moon peered down with a half-lidded eye, a pale sliver against the dark sky. A smile; a small, private smile that came easily to him and looked natural, settled over his features.
He strolled through the gardens, skirting around the high hedges and grand fountains in search of more private spot to sit and steal a few moments of peace for himself. To his left, behind a screen of meticulously clipped shrubbery, rose a faint, gentle laugh followed by a dreamy sigh so soft, it was like the flutter of a silk ribbon as it thread through the air. Merlin shifted his course and went to the right instead, allowing whomever was over there their moment of secrecy.
After all, he understood secrecy and quite intimately at that.
He soon found himself a little off the main garden walk on a narrow pathway lined by rose bushes. The roses were in bloom and their petals were as white as driven snow against the dark green leaves. Merlin paused to admire one, reaching out a long finger to touch a pale bud when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Stopping to admire the roses, Merlin? Typical - I bet this is why you're always so late in running your errands."
Merlin turned slightly to regard Arthur and managed to look dutifully put-out by the comment, though his blue eyes still danced with hints of playful light, visible even in the deep shadow of evening. He paused a beat to quietly marvel at the way in which hazy moonlight made Arthur's light hair into a pale nimbus, giving him a softer, almost otherworldly look.
"Well sire," said he after a moment, "I run behind in my errands because you give me so many of them. I think you're really just trying to kill me by running me ragged half of the time!" The sorcerer folded his arms over his chest crossly in an imitation of his master, and grinned. "I would rather you just fire me if you want to be rid of me that badly."
Arthur made a show of rolling his eyes and scoffed, matching Merlin's stance and doing a much better job at looking churlish and intimidating. "If you weren't such a poor excuse for a manservant you would have no problem with the tasks I assign to you. Any competent servant would have those jobs done by lunch with time to spare." He snickered and slanted a look at the dark haired boy. "I only keep you around to save others from your truly dreadful service."
"Yes well, I choose to stay around to save any other poor souls from having to deal with your pratly ways," retorted Merlin a tad defensively.
Arthur arched a shapely brow. "Pratly? Really Merlin? I think you've been missing the stocks a bit, haven't you?"
"Prattish...prattishly...oh you know what I mean!" The sorcerer huffed and walked a few steps away from his lover, his long, smooth neck tense with agitation.
The prince laughed and took a step towards him, frowning when his manservant shrugged back from him. He sighed; Merlin could be such a woman sometimes! He tried a different tactic. "Why are you out here anyway? My father specifically told you to mind your role as my manservant tonight! He'll have you in the stocks for days if he catches you sneaking off to stop and smell the roses." Though Arthur spoke lightly, both boys knew that it was a valid threat, nevertheless. Uther Pendragon had no great love for Merlin, though he put up with the sorcerer's clumsy antics because of his son. If it were up to him he likely would have fired the lanky youth himself, a long time ago.
Merlin, however, didn't answer Arthur's question right away but instead averted his eyes as his neck flushed hotly with jealousy and embarrassment. "It's nothing," he mumbled, "I just needed some air is all." The blonde rolled his eyes.
"You are a terrible liar, Merlin. What is it really? I command you to tell me!" Merlin grimaced and grit his teeth, his embarrassed flush turning into a flash of annoyance; he hated it when Arthur played dirty.
"It just looked like you could handle yourself without me," he ground out, meeting his sire's eyes with an expression that was one part irritated and two parts wounded. "All those noblewomen seemed to have had you well taken care of." Merlin's lower lip jutted out just so, and Arthur, with a herculean effort on his part, bit back the snarky retort he had prepared. Instead his expression softened and he took a step towards his lover.
He bowed at the waist formally and held out his hand. "May I have the honor of this dance?" he asked.
Merlin gaped at Arthur, clearly caught off guard. He tensed when the prince stepped forward and placed a hand firmly on his waist. Arthur held his free hand in his own, threading their fingers together as he began to lead his manservant in a slow waltz, the strains of the distant orchestra wafting on the warm breeze.
"You're terrible at this too, you know," muttered the blonde, grinning at his partner. Merlin smirked and accidentally-on-purpose tread on Arthur's foot.
"I guess we'll just have to practice more often then."
***
Minutes dragged on and the two boys seemed content to allow time to waltz by at a leisurely pace as they stole a few moments of time away from prying eyes to share a rather intimate embrace.
"A-Arthur," Merlin panted, staring up at his lover as he was pressed down onto the hard surface of a granite bench in a very secluded niche nearby. The stars spun in his eyes and the moon bashfully hid its face behind a cloud as the prince brought his mouth down upon his and ground his hips downwards into the slender body beneath him. While the sorcerer would have generally been more than content to let this hurdle towards the inevitable conclusion, his keen hearing picked up a ruckus growing in the distance.
"Wait - ah!" he groaned when Arthur snaked a hand beneath his shirt and pinched one of his nipples, hard enough to distract him. He shuddered and tried again, arching his back when his lover dipped his tongue into the curve of his ear. "Arthur, I hear something...stop."
The prince merely growled in annoyance and pinned his manservant's arms above his dark head, intent on tasting more of that milky white skin. Merlin was persistent however, and turned his head when Arthur tried to claim his mouth in another wet kiss. "I'm serious, sire."
His azure eyes, while heavy with lust, glinted with determination.
Arthur groaned and sat up, pulling the sorcerer with him. "I should make go muck out the stables for this," he grumbled, smoothing back his tawny locks and adjusting the golden circlet on his brow. He smirked at the high color on his manservant's cheeks and at least took pride in that. "Now what is that's so important, Merlin? I don't hear a thing."
The sorcerer shot his sire a look and did his best to set his rumpled clothing back in order. "Once the blood returns to your head, your majesty, you should hear it."
"Sometimes I do wonder if you forget who your talking to," muttered the prince grumpily.
A moment later, a sound rose from the direction of the castle: the screeching of a very displeased cat and a high-pitched baying of a young hound.
"What on earth is a dog doing in the banquet hall?" Arthur questioned in confusion and rose to his feet. He strode briskly back towards the party, Merlin close on his heels.
Before they had gotten there the double doors to the garden were flung open and Uther Pendragon stalked out looking regally exasperated and irate. Behind him one of the guards was holding an overly large puppy by the nape, just below a large red kerchief that had been tied around its neck. Its soft, hoary coat was nearly glowing in the darkness and its eyes were darker than shadow. When it caught sight of Merlin it wagged its tail madly and barked happily.
"What is the meaning of this? I should have you thrown in the dungeons for allowing this...mongrel to interrupt the birthday party of the Crown Prince. The guests are very upset." Uther looked between Merlin and his son, his eyes clearly commanding somebody to answer him.
"Father," began Arthur, but the sorcerer interrupted him, stepping forward and drawing Uther's agitated gaze. He looked rather guilty, but gathered the hound from the guard. The hound's white coat gleamed like stardust in the night as it wriggled happily in Merlin's arms.
"Sire," said Merlin, looking at Uther apologetically, "this was my present to your son." He swallowed, suddenly embarrassed by the crowd that had gathered and turned to a stunned Arthur.
"Erm, ah, happy birthday, m'lord," he said quietly, handing the hound to Arthur, who looked both touched and bewildered all at once.
(To be continued...)