*Hey guys/gals! Sorry for the long wait. I've had a lot going on. Thank you so much for the reviews/faves/follows! It really does mean a lot to me that people are enjoying my story. Please feel free to give me some input if you like, I'm not one to take criticism harshly. It may be about a week until I can get the next chapter written up and published. Stupid midterms! Thanks a lot, and enjoy! -P
Merlin sat on his bed, biting his lip as he tried to stop the flow of tears down his gaunt face. Arthur, the one man he had tried his best to show his good side to, to show that he was alright, had seen him break. The tears, the flinch... Arthur would know something was up with his servant and the raven haired boy groaned through his tears at the thought that his prince would start trying to question him again.
The places where he had been touched felt hot, burning him with guilt and fear. He rubbed at his wrist absentmindedly, the sensation making his spine quake. He didn't want people taking time out of their precious day to worry about him. He was no one, a servant and nothing more. Oh yes, he may be the world's most powerful warlock, but at that moment, he was the just a boy, a scarred, tortured soul.
Gaius knocked on his door, pulling him from his reverie with a jolt. Breathing through his nose, he tried to calm his racing heart.
"Y-Yes, Gaius?" he asks out tentatively, wondering what the older man could want. Merlin had seen him mixing some poultice or other when he rushed in but hadn't given the other much of a glance. He had been too concerned to corner himself into his room, away form prying, worried eyed.
"I need you to take this poultice to the prince. He will want it for tomorrow, and I will be busy attending a birth so I won't be readily available until late tomorrow evening. I'm hoping this will keep him together until I return." Gaius smiled softly, trying to show Merlin that he was poking a little fun at their prince, knowing full well that he would be sore tomorrow. Merlin blinked a couple timed before returning his mentor's smile with a twitch of his lips which seemed to physically hurt more than bring comfort.
"I can do that, sure." Merlin said, hopping off his bed and heading towards his guardian. Gaius was like a father to him, since he didn't know whether his own was even alive, and he was more than grateful to the older, wiser man for his input and unwavering faith in him. It helped him push his shoulders back, if only a little bit, brightening his face a shade or two. Merlin took the offered bottle and, with a nod, headed towards his prince's chambers.
Arthur groaned, tossing in his bed, his skin slick with sweat and his muscles taught as he gripped the sheets. Images flashed behind his eyes of a pale figure, pressed against his body, bright red drops of what looked to be blood making the skin look even paler. A gasps, a shudder, an intimate laugh. The images seemed almost real, as if he could feel the other body's heat against him, the hot tears that fell, the splashed of rapidly cooling blood that pooled in the crevices of the alabaster skin that he had laid claim to. Bruising grip left purpling welts, his nails leaving scars, the warmth wrapped around his aching member. All of these and more twisted themselves in the prince's mind.
A sudden knock at his door had him spilling from his bed, his body shaking from the exertion that hadn't been real. Gasping breaths filled his lungs as the door opened, a quiet gasp drawing his attention to whoever happened to be visiting him this late. Merlin stared at his prince, eyes taking in the disheveled hair, the shining skin, the tremors that wracked his prince's body. He rushed over, kneeling down beside Arthur before his mind could catch up to him.
"Arthur! Oh my Gods, are you okay?!" Merlin asked, quickly reaching a hand out to touch his prince's forehead. He hadn't realized that he was touching someone else. Why would he, when it was his prince? "You're burning up! Here, let me-" Merlin's words were stopped as he suddenly found himself pressed against the floor, his prince atop him, straddling his waist. The fear shot through him like an arrow, freezing his limbs and his breath, deep blue eyes growing wide.
"M-Merlin..." the blond man rasped out, leaning down to press his face against his manservant's neck. He stopped before his lips touched the unblemished skin, deeply breathing in the scent of his manservant; that spicy, woody scent that was all Merlin. A groan escaped his parting lips, leaning forward a bit more to press his teeth into the skin.
"Arthur, pl-please!" Merlin managed to squeeze a bit of air from his lungs, his shaking hands reaching up to press against the blond mans bare chest. Arthur pulled away quickly as if shocked. The coolness of Merlin's skin was like ice to his heated person, jolting his mind from the haze of desire that had clouded his mind.
Forcing himself up, he lurchingly walked himself around the bed, moving as if he were drunk. He cling to the bedpost, trying to stabilize himself in the moment, in the here and now instead of letting the fog of lust to descend over his eyes again.
"M-Merlin. I-I'm sorry... I can't... I can't control myself..." Arthur growled out, his teeth gnashing loud enough for Merlin to hear it from where he lay on the ground, warily watching the prince. It took the blond man a second before the conversation with Gaius that he and Percival had had to come back, his eyes flinching towards his pillow.
"Merlin, I-... Mnnf, I need you to um... check under my pillow, ahhh.." Arthur groaned as he spoke, his member hard and begging to be released from it's confines. He ground himself against the bedpost without realizing it, trying his hardest not to allow himself near his manservant. He couldn't, wouldn't, allow himself to touch Merlin in that way. Not without his consent. He didn't want to be the reason for Merlin to have that gaunt look on his face for even longer, avoiding every touch as if it were the plague. He had to control himself. He was the prince!
When Arthur noticed that Merlin hadn't moved a muscle, he growled low in his chest, the sound almost like that of a wild animal. "NOW MERLIN!" he yelled out, his hands gripping the bedpost hard enough for the wood to complain with a loud creak. That definitely got the younger boy moving, almost tripping over himself just to stand up, leaving the jar of ointment on the ground we he had been laying.
Merlin stared at his prince, the flush of his skin, the predatory look in his eyes. It sent a shiver down his spine, but the worst part was that he wasn't sure if it was fear or... excitement. He hadn't felt the need to wash himself clean when the prince had helped him up earlier, and even now, when his shoulders burned from the contact, it didn't feel wrong. Or dirty. A part of his mind, a part so far from the current proceedings to hardly even be noticed, wondered why he could handle the prince's touch, but no one else's.
The wind moaned outside of the prince's window as Merlin made his way towards the bed, the glass rattling hard enough to make him jump. He rushed to the side of the bed, trying to ignore the piercing gaze that he could feel bore itself into his skin, touching parts of him that he didn't even know existed. His deep, ocean blue eyes stared at the sweat-soaked sheets, his pale hands shaking as he leaned towards the bed to remove the pillow. An odd sensation crawled along his fingertips the closer his hand got to the pillow, almost as if he had summoned his magic without meaning to. But once it hit him, he yanked the pillow back, throwing it across the room and almost into the fireplace. It wasn't his magic he was feeling.
The pouch lay so innocently on the bed, no marked tainting its leather exterior. A gentle scent hit Merlin's nose, causing him to cover his face with the crook of his elbow. It was an enchanted packed of herbs, that much was certain. But for what purpose? He chanced a look at the blond man that had gone quiet behind him, Merlin's eyes widening a bit.
The look Arthur was giving him was nothing short of terrifying, the look of a hunter who had cornered his prey. His hands stayed glued to the bedpost, showing that he still had some modicum of self control, but the longer Merlin watched, the less the prince's arms shook, the more his grip lessened on the post. Quickly, without really thinking about it, Merlin grabbed the pouch of herbs and ran, turning his back quickly on Arthur as he tried to make his way from the room. He had to get this pouch away from other man, had to make sure that he wouldn't do whatever it was that he was stopping himself from doing. The same part of Merlin's brain that had wondered earlier was now wondering why he was hiding the obvious from himself but the fear overwhelmed the tiny voice, drowning it out completely for the time being.
Throwing one look over his should showed him that Arthur stayed glued to the spot next to his bed, however his light blue eyes had followed his manservant, and it was those eyes that Merlin last saw as he passed through the doorway before slamming the door shut behind him. He couldn't stop, wouldn't allow himself to even catch a breath as he made his way back to Gaius' chambers. The cool night air felt great on his fear-warmed skin, the nervous sweat helping him cool down as he ran.
He made it through the door to the old physician's chambers before allowing himself to stop, his breath coming in great gasps as he tried to regain the oxygen his system had lost. Gaius had been startled awake, not expecting a running servant to slam into his quarters this time of night. He had hoped Merlin would have had the decency to at least be quiet. But alas, it was not meant to be.
The older man waddled his way over, his old bones not being able to hurry himself from place to place like he used to. Concern made his wrinkled features even more prominent, his large eyebrows raising so far that the almost were lost in his long hair. He lay a hand gently on Merlin shoulder, waiting patiently for the boy to regain his breath before asking him his questions.
"My boy, what's the rush? I thought you had taken the poultice to-"
"To Arthur, yes.." Merlin interrupted hastily, throwing a wide-eyed look to his guardian. "Bu-But Gaius he... He tried... tried to um..." Instead of telling him what had happened, he instead held out the pouch that he had found underneath the prince's pillow. "I found this under Arthur's pillow after... he um... tried to-to uh..." Merlin looked down, his face turning bright red, making Gaius worry for a split second whether or not he was going to pass out from having the blood rush so far up so quickly. He stared at the pouch, worrying his lip between his teeth.
"Merlin.. Do you know what that is?" Gaius asked cautiously, taking it from Merlin gently, as if the bag would sting him if he handled it wrongly. Merlin shook his head, following the man with his eyes as the other man walked over to the hearth, the fire still alive, but barely. Taking one last look, he tossed it into the flames, watching as the leathers slowly caught before a green flame burst forth, roaring up the chimney, taking the enchantment with it. Afterward, only ash remained.
"It's a type of implement used by those of the Old Religion, to turn someone against those they love, eventually causing them so much mental anguish over their choices that they usually take their lives without the priestesses having to dirty their hands." Gaius slowly turned, eyeing Merlin. "The fact that this now makes two incidents, both aimed at you... My boy, you are their target. They are trying to use you, knowing that you are close to, not just the prince, but those who are also closest to him. You are the focal point in which, should you fall, the whole of Camelot will fall with you." He watched Merlin, wondering if the boy truly understood how instrumental he was in making sure the kingdom stayed afloat.
Merlin stared at Gaius, slowly shaking his head. "G-Gaius, I'm just a servant! I can't... I can't be that important to the prince.." he said softly, not looking his mentor in the eye. Deep down, he wanted nothing more than to be something other than a servant to his prince, but there were codes, rules and regulations that kept things from progressing too far. The conversation brought forth the memories from earlier in the night; Arthur's breath along his neck, his hard, iron grip on his shoulder, the aching need that rubbed against his own member. He tried to suppress a shudder, his face and neck flushing with embarrassment as he felt his own member rise to say hello to his new memories.
Gaius just watched Merlin, understanding the doubts that plagued his mind. However, he needed Merlin to be aware of the situation he is most likely to find himself in. "This enchantment does not implant desires, Merlin. It merely twists what's already there. You were able to get this away before it had done much harm, but I mush warn you; things between you and the prince may not be the same as they once were." Gaius ends his vague statement with a nod before walking over to his work bench, placing materials inside.
"I will be going to see to the prince, now. I suggest you get some rest. I will have him excuse you from you duties for the morning. Hopefully, by the time his training has ended, the effects of the enchantment have lessened enough for him to easily control his urges. We need to make sure to keep up appearances like nothing is wrong. We an't let Uther find out about this. Not yet." Merlin nods some, slowly edging his way from the door.
He watched Gaius leave, his eyes glued to the door long after the old physician had left. Things would be different, he had said. Merlin wondered how different could the possibly be? He wouldn't know the full extent of the damage, effects, until he saw Arthur in the afternoon. Sighing, he took a bottle of sleeping tonic, and headed to his room. He was definitely going to need all the rest he could to handle the next day's labours.
No memories of the first night plagued his dreams. No memories of Percival's hands, lips, or teeth. No memories of blood, pain, or fear. The only thing Merlin's mind was able to dredge up through the thickness of the tonic-laden sleep, was the dim, almost hidden guilty excitement that the night had brought to him.