Warning: Knife-play and blood-play. This just gets kinkier...Shorter chapter to finish this arc so I can start a new one :)
Merlin turns another page in his book before answering in a calm voice, "Nothing that you should worry about, love." He takes out a spare piece of parchment and whispers the spell to copy the diagram on the page, hoping Arthur would take the hint.
"I want to know what it is that you are keeping from me."
"Arthur, it is nothing." Merlin is skimming through the book with his magic, the pages fanning his face.
"Then tell me," Arthur growls, striding over to Merlin to grab his slim wrist. The King slams the book shut. "You are keeping something from me. Why don't you trust me?"
Merlin merely summons another volume with his magic, nonplussed by Arthur's anger.
Arthur catches the book and flings it away. Gritting his teeth Arthur raises his voice, "Don't ignore me!" He hauls Merlin up by the collar of his robes, feeling no resistance from the warlock. He knows that Merlin could stop him if he wants to. Then he slams him against the wall and pushes him against the small table at the side. It screeches as it is moved across the floor. "Tell me why, at least. Tell me why," Arthur yells. Merlin's silent stare unnerves him. He shoves his lover against the table again and he waits for the crash and clamour as everything falls to the floor. But it never comes.
Merlin's eyes glow, catching the inkpot, glass paperweight, the books and papers midflight before levitating them harmlessly to his lab. Another flash makes closes the door and the windows glitter with privacy spells. He kisses Arthur hungrily, distracting him by palming him through his breeches. "I love you," the warlock mumbles against the side of Arthur's pink lips.
Arthur kisses Merlin back with as much fervour and without waiting for an answer; he fists his hands in the brunet's tunic. Ripping it open, Arthur trails his finger down his lover's chest to trace the scar that is like his own. Merlin leans inwards as Arthur splays his fingers over where his heart should be and feels... nothing. Arthur's fingers press desperately then he takes Merlin's wrist and feels no pulse.
"What have you done to yourself?" Arthur exclaims as horror overtakes him. "Did you do this to yourself...for me?" The last part is whispered in a choked voice.
Merlin's lips press into a white line, anger filling him. "Yes. Don't look at me like that. It is worth it," he hisses. "I don't regret anything."
"No it isn't." Arthur shakes his head sadly, his arousal deflating. "Don't treat your own life so lightly."
With lightning speed, Merlin reverses their positions. Now it is him, pressing Arthur against the wall. The fire crackles. Bottles of ink rattle. The shelves quiver, books shivering in the force of Merlin's anger. "Don't you know how much you're worth to me? You are worth my life and more and I will not have you doubt it. I am nothing, nothing without you. I would do it again in a heartbeat if I had to." The irony of the statement does not escape Arthur and he lets out a little laugh. Merlin continues speaking in a harsh whisper into Arthur's ear so he could feel Merlin's warm breath bathe his face. "It was a necessary sacrifice. As a King, you should understand this. Sometimes you have to give something up for the greater good." His lover's eyes are aglow. Merlin's display of power and passionate speech leaves Arthur breathless and more than a bit turned on.
"You gave me your heart?" Arthur manages to say, shifting discreetly so that he is not poking Merlin with his erection.
Merlin releases him with an intense look, scrutinising Arthur's tone and facial expression. "You always had it," he says, voice deepening with emotion. The warlock will consent to Arthur knowing about his heart but he will do whatever it takes to keep Arthur's purity. To keep Arthur in the dark to keep him in the light. Merlin would fall so Arthur could stand on his shoulders.
"How...?" Arthur says, biting his lip in confusion.
"Magic," Merlin says with a smile, his finger on Arthur's lip, teasing him. "You are my other half. You complete me. There is no question of how. I would do anything for you."
"It was Hell," Arthur confesses, allowing himself to accept this gift. "I'm... thankful you saved me." He hadn't known how much more he could stand. He had wanted death.
"I'd tear Hell apart to find you," Merlin vows, deadly serious. "I promise, I will do anything to keep you safe."
If he were any other, Arthur might have Merlin's statement as those of someone in love but Arthur knows Merlin is special; there is something about him that he still can't quite figure out. He marvels at the power glinting in his lover's eyes and does not question Merlin's promise.
Merlin backs away from his love, feeling like he has said too much. "You should not let me near you, if you knew the things I'd do for you. I'm dangerous." The warlock immediately tries to put as much distance between him and the King.
Arthur rolls his eyes. "What is with everyone deciding what they think is best for me? You think I wouldn't do the same for you? You don't frighten me." Arthur refuses to step away even as he can feel the power stirring again in the air. He stands up straighter and tries not to think about the heat pooling in his groin. Lust shining in his eyes, Arthur feels like a pervert and he looks quickly away when he feels his cheeks flush.
Merlin knows then that Arthur doesn't understand the gravity of the danger that he could be in. That he is in. With a nod of his head, he lifts Arthur into the air so that he is dangling off the ground as if suspended by invisible chains. Completely helpless. Arthur's legs swing ridiculously like a broken marionette. Merlin's hand at his throat as if to choke him, his fingers not touching him but Arthur gets the meaning.
"Defend yourself."
Arthur merely glares at Merlin. "Let me down."
"Defend yourself," Merlin repeats, using his magic to unsheathe a dagger hidden in Arthur's boot.
"You won't hurt me," Arthur says confidently, refusing to panic as the knife drifts closer to his exposed throat. Not even when the knife is touching him, making him gasp from the cold metal on his skin. "You won't hurt me."
Merlin's lip twitches in a cruel sneer and the blade nicks his throat ever so slightly. "I could kill you right now." Arthur can feel the sting of the cut, the blood welling to the surface.
"But you won't," the King says with unflinching certainty. He knows if Merlin wanted to, he would have a long time ago. His golden eyes meet his lover's, brimming with trust and an unspoken plea.
The warlock's eyes light up and Arthur's cape flutters to the ground.
The knife starts cutting the laces of his tunic, the buckles of his chain-mail undershirt, the leather ties that hold up his breeches. Merlin is rough, recklessly cutting the garments from his lover with his magic leaving him with nothing but his crown. Arthur knows that he should be afraid. Afraid of Merlin perhaps but instead his stomach is fluttering with a strange desire threatening to spread through him.
Merlin licks his cuts delicately, tasting the metallic tang of blood before whispering a healing spell over each hurt. The warlock repeats this several times, carving shallow shapes into Arthur's still body, catching the blood with his lips and soothing it away. Arthur closes his eyes as he feels the sting of the cut, followed by the pleasant warmth of magical healing. Finally, Merlin says with a heavy sigh, "You should make me leave you."
The warlock wills his lover to understand that he cannot say it but should Arthur command him to leave him, he would. Forever. Merlin knows now that he cannot live without Arthur but if Arthur wished to live without him, then he would forfeit his existence. It is a simple equation.
When Arthur shudders, it is not from the cold even though he is naked and powerless. It is the fear that grips his heart, Merlin's heart he corrects himself, when he tries to imagine life without his lover. He shakes his head. "No. What are you saying? Do you want to leave me?" His voice cracks a little at the end, his lip trembling. Arthur can feel the borrowed heart pounding in his chest and it gets hard to breathe.
A flash of silver and the point of the knife digs in his left shoulder, not quite breaking the skin. "Never. Think. That. Arthur. Never," Merlin commands, turning the knife over so the cold side brushes the sensitive area just below a rosy nipple.
Arthur groans, sounding pained, he bangs his head against the wall in frustration. He is weightless in Merlin's magical embrace, his sensations heightened. Merlin is trying to talk to him and he can't for the life of him stop thinking about sex.
"I would never leave you willingly."
"Well then why did you-" Then understanding dawns on Arthur and he rounds on Merlin suspiciously. "Were you...are you trying to make me leave you?" "Nothing you can say, or anyone else for that matter, will convince me that you are bad for me." Arthur continues stubbornly, "You're the best thing that's happened to me. I don't care if people think it's wrong. It's none of their business. When it's just you and me, it feels right. I know its right." Arthur looks at his lover, daring him to deny him.
The knife presses into Arthur's skin again until it breaks, blood collecting in small droplets, marring the fair skin. Arthur moans and this time it's clear that he is not in pain.
"How can you say this is right?" Merlin says. "I've tried to hurt you and you...you let me!" Merlin accuses. "How can I trust myself around you?" Merlin covers his face with his hands. "What have I done?" With a blink, he breaks the chains and levitates his lover gently to the ground. Catching the knife deftly by the handle as it falls, Arthur offers it to his lover.
Merlin shies away from the knife.
"I don't care. I trust you. I want you, dammit." Arthur pleads desperately, "Can't you see I want you no matter what? No matter what you do to me, you can't make me leave you." Need makes his voice husky and he threads his hands through Merlin's brown locks, caressing the warlock's face. He leans him to kiss him but Merlin turns his face away.
"You shouldn't trust me," Merlin says brokenly but letting Arthur kiss him, tasting forgiveness in his gentle hands.
"Take it," Arthur insists, pressing the knife into Merlin's hands, his gaze not leaving his lover's. He will prove it to Merlin. He will show him how much he loves him, loves him back. "I trust you," he repeats. He peers at his lover from lowered lashes and presses his nakedness against him, using his vulnerability to draw out the predator in Merlin.
Even when Merlin takes him roughly on the rug in from of the hearth, when Merlin rakes his nails on Arthur's back and then presses the tender flesh on the rough walls as he fucks him, when Merlin forces him on his knees hard enough to bruise, even when he cuts a little too deep along his ribs, when Arthur can taste his own blood on Merlin's lips, even when he can feel cold metal on his groin and his breath hitches and he is truly afraid – even then – Arthur swallows his fear and manages a crooked smile as if to ask if that is all. Pain is merely a means to an end.
Arthur will take anything from Merlin as long as he can have him. He's not stupid, he knows that there's a price to pay for everything. But he is not unwilling.
To be continued: All criticism welcome.