Title: Within a Sea of Red

Beta: itachitachi (at LJ)

Summary: High-class prostitute, Merlin Emrys, becomes acquainted with Arthur Pendragon, heir to a massive crime empire lead by Uther Pendragon, consequently, also the owner of The Avalon, the brothel where Merlin resides. The more Merlin gets to know Arthur, the more he wonders about his family, and questions how far entrench into the crime world he could succumb, as he succumbs to his feelings for the Pendragon heir.

Warning (overall): Dark content, prostitution, minor character death, various sexual kinks (mentioned)

Notes (please read): created for paperlegends, a writing challenge where writer's create a work longer than 30k words, as well as paired with an artist whom will create artwork for the piece. Therefore, this story has already been completed. The version here has been edited (to my best attempt) to meet FF net's guidelines of the M rating. Parts will be distributed on a weekly basis.

Prologue

Merlin looks around the luxurious interior of the limousine, and he didn't really get what was going on. It's not to say he's never been picked up by sixty-year old men before, but they never introduce themselves or politely invite them into the back of a limousine. Nor do they begin to drive the vehicle, rather than sit in the back with him. The privacy window at the front is currently down, but the back of the Gaius's head didn't provide the opportunity to gather hints. Merlin could work with the fact that Gaius isn't deceiving him, yet he's still having a hard time swallowing down that he was picked up by a chauffeur.

While the name could have been a fake, he couldn't imagine anyone giving out Gaius as their false identity. He's met a lot of John's, James, and men who didn't give him any name to call them by. But the name, Gaius, seems almost too archaic for someone to introduce themselves as.

"Where we going?" Merlin asks, trying to exhibit false bravery.

"Downtown, sir." Gaius politely responds.

He almost scoffs at the 'sir,' sitting uncomfortably on the beige leather seat next to a brown paper bag that wafted with the smell of delicious food. He leans to the side, delicately prying the bag open as to not make too much noise and call attention.

"What the hell is that?" Merlin mumbles to himself. The food is packaged in a ridiculous tinfoil swan that he's sure would feel warm in his hands, and is the source of the aroma. His stomach aches with emptiness.

"It's yours to eat," Gaius says as he makes a turn at an intersection.

Merlin doesn't notice the cars shift in movement, breaking into the swan with eagerness. There's rice and chicken that is moist and juicy in his mouth. He chews through the carrots, long beans, and cauliflower. He can taste the different spices he's never tasted before, that make it the most appetizing meal he's ever had.

And yet, perhaps he was too eager, because Merlin feels his stomach rebel.

"Are you okay?" Gaius asks, viewing him from the rear mirror.

"I'm fine."

"You shouldn't eat your food too quickly. It can be upsetting for the body."

"I'm okay," Merlin insists.

"I'll stop by at the chemist."

Refusal surges up, but the fact that Gaius is kind enough to soothe away the nausea, stopping at the chemist and getting him something to calm his stomach, he simmers down. He lies back against the leather seat, rubbing his belly with small circular motions and swaying with the movement of the limo. Gaius asks about his nausea a few times, seeing if his stomach has settled down as he drives through downtown traffic.

"It's fine," he repeat every time, watching as they pass by tall steel and glass buildings, or listens to the heavy beat of music bursting from neon lit clubs, lines of people waiting to get inside. During the entire trip he isn't nervous about the unusual situation anymore, more curious about the lone old driver picking him up and taking him to some unknown destination. No sexual advances were made, and he was even fed a good meal. His ailment is his own fault.

Yet the sense of unease begins when the limo turns into the dark alleyway between a posh downtown bar and an office building. The streetlight fades the further the limo travels between the dark crevices of the buildings that raises to the sky, that's as black as the dark corners in his rundown apartment—the candle flames barely come close to filling in all the cracks in the floor, the walls, and the empty bulb sockets that didn't run with electricity. The only thing Merlin can see is what the headlights let him see, and it's not much.

"Where we going?" He asks, which doesn't get a response.

He looks on steadily, checking that the doors were unlocked, and looking for the first sign to jump out of the car. Two fingers are already wrapped around the handle as the limo makes another turn, by-passing the other end of the alley and the safety of a world unbothered by a realm that lies underneath. The driver stops the limo, and a sudden pouring of light spreads into the alley. He missed seeing the steel door, scratched up and dirty, and appears to be almost thick like a vault.

"I'll only be a moment." Gaius gets out of the limo, keys in the ignition, and exchanges words with the doorman, a man that is as skinny as Merlin, wearing a pressed uniform attire, and his hair slicked back with gel. The doorman gives a nervous look in his direction, as though he can see past the limo's tinted windows. He scratches the back of his neck, shaking his head at the driver.

Merlin continues to watch the strange exchange between them, the driver now close to begging, pulling cash from his wallet and waving it in front of the other's face. Again, the doorman shakes his head back and forth in uncertainty. Merlin can tell the instant he gives into the driver's pleas and turns back inside, leaving the door wide open. Merlin scoots himself to the front, near the privacy divider, and sees a hallway with black and grey marble floors, violet walls, and fancy food trays being carted away by a waiter. The driver works his way around the limo to the driver's seat, pausing to look at Merlin once he opens the door.

"Merlin, you can come out of the car," he says, as he pulls the keys from the ignition, not waiting for Merlin's reply and closes the door. Merlin looks through the vault-like entrance into the extravagant hallway, wondering what he should do, inching closer to the window, assessing the waiters and people in suits, walking up and down the hallway. It could have been a hotel; except they've driven to the middle of the business district and he couldn't remember seeing any large signs proudly exclaiming a name or a cul-de-sac driveway. As he mauls over scenarios and possibilities, Merlin arrives at the thought that with the number of people walking about, if anything did happen to him, there'd be witnesses.

Merlin opens the limo door, allowing the cool night air to wrap around him, as well as the spicy scent that wafts out from the building's open door.

"Merlin?" The driver inquires, standing at the threshold and beckoning him inside.

"What is this place?" He had the right to ask, but he wasn't sure about receiving an answer.

The driver looks at him strangely before gently clasping his hands around one of his own, and warmly says, "Someplace safe."

He's about to question the drive more, but then he feels the old man's hand open up a bit, and a sudden small weight drops onto his palm. The man's eyes held a sadness that struck Merlin, and with the same warm tone, the old man simply claims, "It belonged to your mother."

Merlin's not sure what to think of the small little item that warms the palm of his hands.

Next Update – Part 1 – 09/16/2012