*Okay, I'm really sorry about this! I had written the third chapter but hated the way it came out, so I rewrote it. I'm happy with it now, so sorry for all those of you who had read it and now have to do so again. My bad! Also, thank you for those of you who have taken the time to read, favorite/follow, and review my story. It makes me so giddy that people are actually reading it! I hope to keep you all happy so please enjoy the next part of HotK!*
Arthur's sigh accompanied him stretching his sore arms above his head to help keep them from cramping up. The training he had the knights do had been tough, even on him, and by the time the day ended, all the knights were limping, or covering some part of themselves that had been bruised or battered. 'That's the way of battle, though. You hit, get hit, hit in return until one or the other goes down', Arthur thought to himself. Uther would have been proud to hear that coming from the blond man, except nothing really made his father proud anymore. He was always expecting more, wanting more, needing more of his son to be what Uther wanted him to be, instead of what Arthur thought he should be.
He walked up the stairs towards his room, his stomach grumbling at the thought of the supper that awaited him in his quarters. 'That damned servant better have brought my dinner on time today or he'll spend the next week in the stocks!' Arthur growled to himself, getting an odd sensation in his gut as he pictured the pale, raven-haired youth being on his knees, his head and arms stuck on one spot, ready for anyone's use... Wait..
Arthur blinked, jamming the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to get the picture out of his mind. Why had that thought seemed more... erotic... than it used to? Merlin was a man! A servant! A manservant! He couldn't be... No. There's no way he could be finding Merlin attractive. Nope, not a one.
Shaking his head in deep denial, he tromped his way towards his room before coming to a screeching halt. Something was off. He didn't know how he knew, but the flutter in his gut, his blood feeling like ice... all of these were signs that Arthur had learned to listen to, especially from the battlefield. Slowly turning his head, his eyes scanned every nook and cranny around the hall. All was quiet, the only sounds being the gentle crackles of the sconces in the wall and the faint chirping of insects from outside, calling to their beloved or claiming their territory.
Taking a few deep breaths, Arthur willed his racing heart to slow, his hands shaking slightly from the rush of adrenaline. Maybe he was just that tired? Getting worked up over spooks and shadows? An irritated huff, another palming of his eyes, and Arthur turned back towards his door, stopping again when he noticed something shining in the darkened hallway a few paces away.
'I wonder... what... what is that?' Arthur asked himself, slowly, silently, making his way towards the object. The closer he got, the more his heart rate sped up. It was a tray. A silver serving tray. And the closer Arthur got, the more of the area he saw; a few strewn pieces of fruit, a shattered jar of olive oil, a bowl of beef stew having lost most of its contents, and an empty goblet, the wine joining the beef stew to widen the puddle on the floor.
It took the blond prince a few seconds to realize exactly who's food it was that had been spilled. 'Damnit, Merlin. Can't you do anything right?' Arthur growled to himself, the sound making his chest thrum. He was going to throttle that servant of his until...
A quiet whimper, a gasp, and a gentle thud stopped Arthur's train of thought. He had heard many of those sounds before, while trying to sneak through enemy territory. A whimper of fear, a gasp of surprise, and the thud of a falling body. His heart rate sped up, his thoughts a whirl inside of his head. 'Merlin..!'
Arthur almost went running down the hall, screaming his servant's name, but catching himself before he placed the first foot down. Whoever it could be was most likely after him, not his servant. Merlin had a bad habit of always getting himself into sticky situations because of his desire to protect the prince, from himself and everyone who wanted to hurt him.
Willing his heartbeat to slow, deepening his breath, he slowly drew his sword, wincing at the scraping sound that seemed to echo throughout the hall. One step, followed by another, so quietly that even a wolf would have startled to find Arthur behind it, Arthur made his way into the darkened hall, his ears straining to hear any sound, his eyes any sign of movement.
There! Had that shadow moved? He stopped, staring at the first doorway he had come to, his eyes slowly getting accustomed to the darkness. He waited, and waited, and waited, for what seemed like eternity, which really, was only a few seconds. Right as he was about to continue his way down, the shadow moved again, and a muffled grunt welcomed his straining ears. Yes, that's where he needed to go.
Pressing himself flush with the wall, not minding the rough stone that scraped his skin, the blond man silently moved closer to the door. Taking a few more breaths to steady himself, he slowly angled his head around the corner to see who was making the sounds. And froze at what he saw.
Merlin, his black hair shining in the moonlight that cascaded in from the window behind him, bent over a wooden table, the tear tracks on his face reflecting the what little light there was towards Arthur. Another whimper escaped his taut lips, before a resounding smack nearly shattered the quiet. The prince had jumped, not expecting the loud sound, which brought his eyes up from the pale-skinned boy to the person behind him, the one who had smacked his manservant's arse.
Percival, one of his most trusted knights, one of his (and Merlin's) closest friends, stood behind the servant, his bruising, iron grip on the boys hips as he rutted against the youth. The larger man bent down, kissing along Merlin's skin, an almost inaudible whine slipped from Merlin's lips, followed by a pained gasp as Percival bit the back of his neck with enough force to break the skin.
Arthur's heart was raging in his chest, his eyes growing hot and livid with rage. How dare Percival touch Merlin that way! Merlin was his servant, his friend. HIS! Arthur gripped the pommel of his sword before swinging around the door frame, storming into the room before him. He had relative little fear that Percival would hurt Merlin with a weapon, since the man was nude and unarmed. Neither of the men across the room noticed his presence, until Arthur swung his fist, knocking the silver dinnerware that was piled up on the small table next to where he was standing.
"What. The. FUCK. Is going on?" Arthur yelled out, his body shaking. All movement on the other side of the room stopped, a surprised gasp coming from Merlin's mouth, while the only indication that Percival gave that he had heard was a tilt of the head in Arthur's general direction.
The moonlight glinted off the other man's back, the drips of sweat rolling down gently across the rolling hills of his muscled frame. He slammed his hips forward, drawing out a yelp from the boy below him before turning his attention to the man who had interrupted their fun.
"Oh. Hello, Arthur." Percival droned out, his voice slightly bored, while his eyes glared at the man across from them. How dare the prince interrupt his fun with the toy he had been craving for so long? His lips split into a grin, more a baring of teeth, as he turned more of his attention to the rage-filled man. "Have you come to enjoy the show?" he asked the prince, accentuating his works by gripping the raven-haired boy in front of him by his hair and yanking him up, Merlin gasping in pain as he was pulled along.
Shame filled Merlin's mind as he noticed the way the prince was staring at them. He had wished with every fiber of his being that the night would get over with soon so he could limp back to his room and forget everything had happened. But it was too late now. The prince, his prince, had seen this scene of debauchery and would doubtfully believe anything Merlin had to say about it. Because in some small, dark part of Merlin's mind, he knew that he enjoyed it. Not the pain, the hitting, the bloody biting. But the possession that Percival handled him with, as if everything that was Merlin, was his... That was what he was enjoying. And he hated every last bit of himself for it, too.
"Let. Merlin. Go." Arthur said lowly, the words coming out as a growl. When he noticed that Percival made no move to act on his order, the rage built further. "NOW!" Arthur's voice bounced around the room for a few seconds, causing Merlin to wince. He had never heard the prince so angry, even with him!
Percival chucked, leaning in to nuzzle his face against the pale neck that was stretch out in front of him. Staring directly into Arthur's eyes, he licked a line from Merlin's shoulder to his ear, an involuntary shudder from the boy below making him grin. "Why, when he enjoys it so?" he asked the prince, a low chuckle escaping his lips. His fingers gripped Merlin's hair harder, tilting his head back a little farther. "Isn't that right, my pet?"
"Because he's MINE!" Arthur's words rolled out of his mouth before he had the full implication of what he was saying. With no mood, or time, to deal with it now, he placed his thoughts to the back of his mind as he started slowly walking toward the duo, his stance akin to how he walked when he hunted. The predator, on the balls of his feet and his legs ready to jump at a moments notice, came out in him. He would make sure that Percival was punished for what he was doing. The closer he got, the more of the pale, milky skin of his servant he could see. The purple bruises and raised blood, the teeth marks and fist outlines. The rage nearly overtook him at that point, had he not bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself somewhat under control.
Percival stared at Arthur, a small smile tilting his lips up. "Oh? He's yours? In what way? I know he washes your clothes, fetches your food, and cleans your armor..." His hand drifted from Merlin's waist towards the boy's center, gripping the raging erection that was hidden below the table. "But you can't give him what he craves, what he desires. From you, no less. So I shall give it to him. In your stead." Percival turned bringing Merlin's body fully into the moonlight, the boy's body shaking from the many emotions and feelings that coursed through him.
Arthur stopped, staring at the boy in front of him. He had begun noticing, over the past few weeks, exactly how pale his servant was. It wasn't unhealthy. Just natural. His eyes traveled down the boys body, where Percival slowly, oh so slowly, moved his hand against the youth, drawing an almost inaudible moan from his lips. His fist tightened on his sword, his body shaking with anger. No, Percival would never touch Merlin again. No one, besides him, would touch Merlin again. Not without his explicit permission to do so, which he never planned to give anyone.
He stalked forward, his eyes pulling up from the center of Merlin's body to the man behind him. Their eyes met, and a small chill went down Arthur's spine as he noticed that Percival's eyes seemed different. Another step brought him closer and that's when he noticed that the man's eyes had gone completely black, giving the look that he no longer had anything inside of them. Which meant only one thing...
Sorcery.
Another growl escaped Arthur's throat as he raised his sword to Percival's own, glaring at the man. If looks could kill, Percival would have been dead a thousand times over. "Let him go, Percival. I will not ask again." His voice was gravelly from keeping himself restricted and containing his anger. In order to prove his point, he pressed the tip of the sword a little farther, pricking the other man's skin so that a drop of blood ran down the blade.
"Mmm. I'm not sure you want him enough. Show me. Show me that you deserve this delicious little morsel and that every other man with a prick between his legs doesn't." A grin split Percival's lips, his bright teeth almost glowing in the moonlight that highlighted them. His hand continued its slow ministrations on Merlin's center, causing the boy in his grasp to whimper and moan, struggling against the feelings that overwhelmed him. His heart and body were at war, and he was lost in the bloodbath of the battlefield.
"Damnit, Percival, let him go NOW!" Arthur yelled at his foe's face, turning his sword to slice down the mans bicep of the arm that cradled Merlin's sex. However, Percival didn't move, his grin staying plastered on his face. The blood continued to flow down his arm, twinkling like jewels in the moonlight.
"Good, good. But that's not enough, Arthur. SHOW me." Percival purred out, turning his face towards Merlin's own, licking the side of the boys reddened ear as he sped up the hand that teased the boy he held. He was about to give his boy a nibble on the ear when he heard the clang of metal as Arthur dropped his sword, his fist making its way quickly to Percival's cheek. The resounding smack of the impact made Merlin's ears ring, but the arms that held him let up enough for him to pull himself away, choking out a sob of gratitude as he stumbled towards his master.
Arthur pushed Merlin behind him, acutely aware of both the boy's nudeness and the bruises and blood that lay upon the entire boy's body. Percival would NOT be getting away with this. With that thought, he looked at the man before him, who's eyes were widened by surprise. Percival looked around the room, not understanding how he had gotten there, the confusion plain as day on his face. He blinked a few times, as if waking from a dream. Or a nightmare.
"S-Sire..? I'm confused... what's... what's going on..?"
Instead of answering the man's question, Arthur shook his head, taking a threatening step forward until the pressure of a shaking palm made itself noticed on his back. Turning, he looked at Merlin, the boy's body shaking slightly, eye's wide as he looked up at his prince.
"A-Ar... Arthur don't... I don't think... I don't think he was himself..." Merlin said quietly, trying to keep his voice low.
"I don't give a fuck! Raping you... Hurting you as he did is an offense I cannot overlook. No matter how loyal he was before."
"But Arthur, please.." Merlin begged, not wanting to tell him that he felt the presence leave Percival's body the moment the prince's fist struck. It would give him away as a sorcerer but... Wasn't Percival's innocence worth it? He wasn't honestly sure, the want to keep his secret battled his want to save his friend.
"I... Merlin, I-" Percival, having heard what the prince had just accused him of, looked like he had just watched his family die in a flaming building as he stood by watching, their screams reaching his ears but his body would not move to save them. Slowly, he sunk to the floor, staring at his hands; the hands that still had both his an Merlin's blood, and other bodily fluids, on them.
Merlin couldn't take Percival looking so broken, so hurt. Because of him... He hadn't been strong enough to call forth his power to push him away, the presence, whatever it was, having somehow not allowed him to touch the golden orb of power inside of him. He rushed over to Percival's side, hesitant to touch him but needing to show Percival that he didn't blame him. Staring at the crumpled man made his heart twist and he wasn't sure what to do.
An iron hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him backwards away from the other man. "You will not go near him, Merlin. Not until I know what's going on." Arthur said, glaring at the other man. Knowing Merlin, he probably wanted to help. But he couldn't allow that. Not until he knew every little detail of what happened from the other man. Pulling Merlin back, the raven-haired man giving little resistance, he turned his back on Percival to stare Merlin in the eyes.
"Go to my room and stay there. I will be by as soon as I figure out what to do with him.." Arthur said, nudging his head towards the man still on the floor. His anger, while still flared, had abated some, so he felt more in control. He also had noticed that Percival's eyes had changed back to their original color, the whites being particularly bright.
"B-But Arthur, I jus-"
"You WILL not argue with me on this Merlin. Do as I say." Arthur glared at the boy, earning a submissive whimper and nod, turning away from him as he ran out of the room, waiting until he heard his doors open, close, and that no other sounds of bare feet running through the halls could be heard.
Turning back towards Percival, Arthur growled softly, clenching his fists. How he wanted to just punch the man in front of him and drag him to the dungeon to rot. But he couldn't. Because, in his heart of hearts, he knew the real Percival wouldn't dare lay a finger on Merlin like that, on anyone like that, and he needed to figure out why Merlin had been targeted.
"Now, Percival, you are going to explain everything you remember. Every minute detail. Am I understood?" he asked, watching the other man as he gave a slow nod from his otherwise motionless body. His anger was slowly evaporating, being replaced with concern over what had transpired and worry that, if it indeed had been sorcery, it would happen again.