This chapter is dedicated to Heilyx, who wanted to see the prince ruin Merlin's letter to his mother right in front of him. Definitely a dick move for Arthur to do, but definitely tracks with what we would expect from him at this point within the story. So I hope that they enjoyed how I incorporated it into the storyline I've crafted ;p

X

Arthur could feel his literal bones shaking from inside of his body, as if they were trying to break out of his skin because his body was too small to contain them all. The rage inside of his chest seemed to burn with an intensity that shocked even him. He had never…in his entire life…felt as stupid and as utterly moronic, as he did right now. He didn't even know it was possible to be this mad, with his veins feeling as if he had fire shooting down his arms. Urging him to do anything to make this right, anything to get vengeance against Merlin and all of his lies. If Merlin thought he could lie to his face, if he thought Arthur wasn't going to capture him in his lies, his consort was even stupider then Arthur had thought. And the consort in question was only staring at him in horror, sliding further away from him but unable to get further then the one knight and his horse would allow…but Arthur wasn't going to buy this little act any longer. Arthur wasn't going to believe for one second that Merlin was truly scared of him…the boy was clearly a master at deceit, if he had managed to lie right to Arthur for as long as he did. But…Arthur vowed, with both of his hands shaking at his sides, feeling as if he was going to vibrate right out of his body…he would be scared. By the time Arthur was done with him…Merlin would suffer with the reminder of what he had done for the rest of his days. Even if Arthur had to take an entire month off, retire to his room…and request they not be disturbed no matter what choked off screams they might hear coming through the thick door.

"You…did you really think you would be able to hide things like this from me? Did you really think that you would have been able to hide something like this from me long term? Or did you think I was so stupid, I was never going to figure out the kind of man you really are." Arthur said slowly. each one of his words coming out of him like a punch, though each of his words were carefully measured, allowing Merlin the time to stress the longer Arthur went without actually doing one thing to him. Let him sweat, thinking of all the things Arthur could do to him. But Merlin wouldn't know just how creative Arthur could get with his punishments. After all, Arthur had been thinking of these things for many months now, he had a multitude of different ideas organized within the depths of his mind. Each one worse then the last, each one that would draw more blood or more screams or would leave behind far more marks then Arthur could count more tempting for him to try. Arthur had never been quite…hands on…whenever he faced somebody who needed punishment, had never quite dolled out a punishment like these for himself. But Arthur's hand twitched at his side as if he was already holding one of his daggers-his favorite one-that he would carve his name into Merlin's chest with. And make Merlin watch as he licked the blood from the knife… "A fucking cheat…a liar…someone who thinks he can jerk me around like a fool on a chain. Just how long have you been seeing 'him', behind my back…dear Consort of mine…"

Arthur's tongue twisted cruelly around Merlin's title, and the prince-who had bowed his head as he spoke, so that all his blonde bangs could fall into his eyes and cast a shadow that was dark and ominous across the upper half of his face-was casual when he lifted his head to watch Merlin's reactions. It was a full bodied shudder that rolled down Merlin's body, he was positive that he could see true fear ebbing into Merlin'a eyes. Yes…this wasn't Merlin being deceitful, or acting like a true innocent consort would have. This was real, and it was raw, and Arthur wanted more of those reactions. Arthur was almost relieved in a strange sort of way, Merlin had always been full of expression and emotions and could never hide a thing-or so he had thought-from him. But with all the recent lies coming out about Merlin, Arthur had almost feared that those personality traits were also another lie. Something the consort had orchestrated to make his whole innocent act be as genuine looking as it could possible be. The prince felt as if he was actually grateful, to know not everything he knew about Merlin was a lie.

At least Arthur could saw with positivity, that Merlin's real personality, the one he would have hidden under the mask of innocence, using his dainty body features to really sell his act, wasn't somebody totally different. It would be no fun to the prince, if Merlin's personality was somebody that would be far harder to break then the Merlin he had thought he'd known. It would be no fun, slicing through the meat and skin of Merlin's body, if the boy was strong enough not to start screaming. It would be no fun if Merlin-chained to his bed to prevent him from doing one of his daring escape attempts-didn't start begging for mercy the second Arthur pulled out the knife. It would have been no fun, if Merlin didn't dissolve into wrenching sobs as Arthur cleaned himself up-leaving his consort to do himself, as Arthur was no longer any kind of 'gentle' man, and was no longer willing to do it himself as he usually entertained when he got carried away with all the possibilities running through his mind-after they were done for the day. Because make no mistake, Arthur would not be stopping after only one session. Arthur felt as if he could've spent 'years' working on Merlin's body, making new marks and scars for Merlin to nurse back to health, deciding which ones he wanted to make last for a lifetime. And which ones he would allow to heal over…Arthur couldn't exactly ruin his expanse of skin canvas by destroying it too soon, and with leaving no free space for him to ruin as the years passed the two of them by.

And Merlin would deserve each and every scar he had been given, perhaps Arthur would even enforce a rule for the boy to thank him once a new scar was revealed. Train Merlin till his body came to accept the new lot that was his life…after Arthur was done him with, perhaps he would kill him once it was no longer fun forcing Merlin to endure the penance the prince would force upon him for lying all these months. And perhaps Arthur would make it quick, if he was feeling just a bit merciful after the decades of torture the boy would end up living through. Or perhaps he will have Merlin all set up, strung up by his wrists in gold shackles as he hung from the ceiling, having not been seen by another person in several long years, and do one more session with him. Before finally ending him when the boy was near exhaustion, sagging until it was only the chains that was still holding him up. The man almost wanted to do it now, to wrap his scrawny hands right along Merlin's throat and squeeze until he could see all that struggle and panic as he tried to pry Arthur's hands off him. To watch the life leave those eyes…this was no laughing or joking manner. In this moment, Arthur truly wanted to kill the consort for lying to him…but he wouldn't.

It would be more fitting for Merlin to be forced to live with all the consequences his actions had caused. Killing Merlin felt as if it would be too easy, felt as if Arthur was just letting the boy get away with embarrassing and tricking him as he had done. Punishment…punishment was the key…Merlin would spend hours thinking to himself, as Arthur went about being forced to deal with the court until he could return to the pet he left locked in his chambers, about how he had gone from getting whatever he wanted, to absolutely nothing but being a thing for Arthur to play with when he was in a particularly bad mood. Or any mood, really, Arthur wasn't going to be all that picky about when he wanted to torture the disobedient little brat. Merlin would know…he should have been grateful for Arthur's giving attitude. After today…any gift Arthur was going to give Merlin would not be something the boy would be allowed to dismiss. Any gift…would only end up being a new instrument of torture. Disguised as a gift, but meant for only Arthur's pleasure…a new whipping stick. Freshly made chains-with either fur or spikes depending on if Arthur was in a particularly pleasant mood or not-perhaps a gag meant to be smaller then the one Merlin would eventually become accustomed to wearing. Or a bigger one, that would leave the boy choking on his own spit as he tried to stretch open his mouth wide enough to accommodate the added width of the ball. Whichever Arthur was inclined to use, during that moment…

Arthur felt a hum building in the back of his throat, he could almost hear Merlin's crying now. And Arthur would be sure to let the boy know…all of this could have been avoided by the truth. All of this could have been avoided if Merlin hadn't lied to him about his virtue. All of this never would've gone down the way it did if Merlin didn't make Arthur…feel things …for him. Protective when he wondered somewhere he was not meant to be, his virtue in danger of being stolen simply because of where he had wondered off too. Possessiveness over somebody thinking they could take what was his…over people thinking they could look. Or. Touch. Or play with. Or tease the boy, without Arthur's permission. Desperation…to know all the things that made Merlin tick. To know the false Merlin who lied to him, and made him interested in wanting to know more even while he pushed him away. To know the boy that said 'fuck off' to royalty on a daily basis, who had the nerve to accuse him of things like 'abuse', who stood in front of his father-the king-and had not coward. Was there any of that boy that remained? Anything Arthur thought he knew of Merlin that was actually true…

…Arthur didn't think so. And even if Merlin did try to do his best to convince him-perhaps with the hope that the blond would spare him? Not a chance, after what Merlin had lied to him about. If he had lied to him about something as small as his virtue, with wasn't nearly as big of a deal for a man as it was a woman, though it pissed Arthur off greatly to know Merlin was just another slag on the totem pole, then how'd Arthur know if the boy wasn't lying about bigger things-then he would not believe him. Whatever trust Arthur had, softly growing underneath all of the resentment the prince had to their marriage, built up over these last three months, felt as if it had crumbled to dust within an instant. Merlin was just like everybody else Arthur had ever known. He was just like every man, and woman, or child who had lied to Arthur just to get something from him. Or perhaps, to actually not get a thing from him…to get it from somebody else…Arthur's eyes shot behind Merlin to the knight in question.

The knight that had to be Merlin's lover…the knight was most likely also an unfortunate victim in Merlin's schemes. Somebody that could hardly deny a royal when they wanted something, even if that something was their body. Perhaps, for all Arthur knew, Merlin was really some kind of succubus in the sheets, able to coax men to his bed with very little to no effort. Able to charm them with promises only someone royal was able to make…as long as they could satisfy him in the carnal sense of the word. But victim or not…the knight has to have known who Merlin was, had to know that Merlin belonged to his bloody prince. There was absolutely not one single excuse as to why the knight had not sought to inform Arthur himself, the second his consort had made a move on him. It caused a low growl to come from his throat, so low it could only be heard to himself…and his eyes fell down onto the crumbled up piece of parchment the knight held within his hand. Arthur narrowed his eyes into slits, he had never known a Runner of Camelot to allow their notices to crumble up like that. He had never known a Runner of Camelot to not keep their letters and missives in pristine condition, so there would be no complaints from the recipient if the words had became smudged from the folding of the parchment. But…he did know one man who cared little-unless that was also a lie-for the social graces that came with all the simple day to day activities handled by nobility. And would probably have a letter crumbled up just to irritate Arthur more…

"No, no…you do not understand! Please, if you could just let me explain things to you…" Merlin tried to beg, the flush that rose high on his cheeks was warm and made him dizzy after realizing…they really were going to have this fight within the public's eyes. God, what had he done, if Arthur was so very mad at him, that he wouldn't even drag him to behind one of the stalls just for some semblance of privacy. Merlin wrung his hands together anxiously, continuing to beg even though he might as well have been talking to a brick wall. "Please, I will…" Merlin bowed his head low, and squeezed his eyes till they were pressed together, his hands clinging to the other to try and find purchase, "…I will do anything that you want of me. Just give me a chance to explain…"

A phrase such as this would have usually caught Arthur's attention…and made it more obvious then ever now, that the consort had been lying to him this entire time. There was no chance-how stupid, once again, had he been to think Merlin didn't know what he was talking about, when he said things that could have been misconstructed in a sexual manner-this consort did not know how wrong those words were. No chance that his consort-not the innocently, stupid butterfly Arthur had once thought he was-didn't know that any weak willed man would have happily taken advantage of such an offer. Having to listen to the boy, and getting whatever one wanted from him in return…Arthur wouldn't have taken any advantage simply because Merlin was not to his…standards for a lover. But there were thousands of other people who'd no doubt, try their hand at him, if Merlin was going to make getting him sound so easy. But Arthur was not listening for any of his lies or pathetic excuses any longer, he needed to prepare and consider what his first step for punishment was going to be. He needed to march Merlin throughout the city and let him get one good long look at it, because there was a good chance Merlin was never going to step outside of his chambers again. He needed too…he needed too..he needed to know what letter Merlin was giving to some knight…

"Please…" Merlin started up once again, his voice cracking somewhere in the middle, and he dared to squint up at the prince through his eyelashes. And the prince's hand shot up to him, Merlin yelped as if he was a wounded dog and threw himself only an inch out of the way. He scrunched up before throwing his arm up to protect his face, shaking so violently that a leaf being thrown about the sky at the discretion of a blowing wind would have looked calmer. It took far too long for Merlin to realize that Arthur hadn't grabbed him, that the prince hadn't taken him by his jacket and started shaking till he thought his brain was going to start oozing out of his ear after being bashed against his skull one to many times. And Merlin lowered his own just an inch, enough to spy over the limb to see what Arthur was doing…and why he had decided now was the time to hold back from attacking him, when he had never done so before. Perhaps Arthur finally realized his father would not be pleased with them fighting publicly…the consort's heart skipped a beat at what he saw, and his eyes went wide with horror.

Arthur had not been trying to attack him at all, in fact, it was as if Merlin was of no concern to him. The only reason he'd reached out like that…was to snatch the letter Merlin wrote painstakingly, drawing out each word as he forced his mind to come up with the most imaginative romantic scenario he could have came up with, from the knight behind him. Merlin could feel the dread rushing through every inch of him, and he stared frozen at the letter ball crumbled within the hands of the prince. Phrases Merlin had written down-I've grown quite happy here, Arthur treats me like a perfect gentlemen, I gave him my neckerchief as a favor during a tourney and he wore it with pride, he stuck by me when one of my many friends was arrested and helped me prove she was innocent of her crimes, it's been a whirlwind but I think I can find my place here amongst the court life, though nothing would be able to beat coming home-rushed through his mind. All the phrases that Merlin would not ever want Arthur to see, and read…and know how screwed up Merlin was in the head to lie to his own mother. And then, Merlin saw Arthur when he started to open up the parchment so he could read, and the movement was the one thing that spurned Merlin to finally take action.

"NO!" Merlin screamed so loudly, he was honestly surprised he was able to find his voice was able to reach that level of noise. And so did Arthur, it seemed, when he stopped trying to unfold the parchment so that he could wince, as his ears started to ring. But Merlin saw this as his chance, his body moving before he could stop himself, or think this through better, and for the first time in weeks, Merlin was touching Arthur. Grabbing onto his arm, scrambling for the letter as Arthur shouted out, trying to shove him off. But Merlin did not care, he dug his nails into Arthur's sleeves, so that the prince couldn't knock him over, scrambling for the edges of the letter. But Arthur held the parchment tightly in his fist, refusing to let up under Merlin's relentless pursuit, holding the letter just out of reach as he arched his body away from Merlin's assault. Using one arm to hold the boy, moving like one would expect from a wildcat, but Arthur was no longer amused by Merlin's defiance. And Merlin yelled loudly into his ear, as he struggled to climb over Arthur's arm, digging the toe of his boots into Arthur's leg in an attempt to reach the other, "Don't read that! It's private! It's not for you!"

It was clear that Merlin would do anything to get this letter back from Arthur's hands, and the prince could feel every organ inside of his body starting to BURN in contempt as he continued to hold Merlin back, tussling with him for a brief moment to keep him away from the letter. And Arthur DUG his own nails into the parchment to keep it in his fist…what was in this letter that was so important, Merlin was ready to start-certainly not their first, as Arthur remembered vividly of the day they met-yet another fight in the middle of Lower Town. This letter could literally be anything, and Arthur was itching to read it after the reaction Merlin was having, as if he had just lost his bloody mind. But, as Arthur moved his arm down so that he could place his hand firmly along the center of Merlin's chest, his eyes flickered passed the boy for a brief second. To catch sight of Knight Erick, lounging casually on his horse as if he had nothing better to do with his life…and Arthur's gums were starting to ache. He felt an almost insane urge to rip the other man's throat out…using only his teeth. He might not have his sword on him, but the prince was no stranger to using what weapons he had in his disposal.

Arthur's gaze fell back down to Merlin, drawn inexplicably to the boy as he tried shoving the prince's hand off his chest to climb on top of him again. But Arthur's hand didn't move, far stronger than his weak consort…and the prince felt it as his lip curled up into a hateful sneer….a love letter. That was what this had to be…a bloody love letter. No man would get as riled up about Arthur reading their parchment unless they were hiding something from him. A girl might though, if they had something deeply personal written down, and his idiot had to be the closest thing there was to a girl, without being an actual girl. Though…Merlin was so whiny all the time, he might want to check just to make sure Merlin wasn't actually a girl…no, Arthur would not be dragging Merlin somewhere where they couldn't be seen just so he could drag his pants down his hips. Arthur had been close enough to Merlin that he noticed the distinct lack of feminine curves…

Arthur yelped when one of Merlin's claws managed to nick the bottom of his chin-he was going to tie the brat down to declaw him himself one of these days, how many times had Merlin managed to get his nails into him for one reason or the other-and Arthur replanted his hand against Merlin's chest, "What the bloody hell is the matter with you!" The prince shouted, shoving Merlin hard into the chest. And he watched as Merlin yelped, tripping over his own feet until he hit the ground…hard. Arthur wouldn't have been surprised if his palms were ripped open and bleeding, or if he sprained his shoulder considering the boy had landed in what would have to be the worse way to do so, having used his arm to try and catch himself. But Arthur hardly cared-it would only be a small taste compared to what the prince would do with him later-and Arthur rose his hand to his chin to feel what a cut it was. "Are you out of your bloody mind!"

Arthur was supposed to present himself to his father and to King Bayard that night, with Merlin on his arm. How was he supposed to show up with cuts decorating his face…he was not going to dare tell his father that Arthur had been caught up in glaring at Merlin's lover, that he hadn't noticed Merlin getting as close as he had to his face. It was just humiliating for a warrior of his caliber, to be blindsided enough to have been hit in the face. Arthur tapped at the wound on his chin and pulled his fingers away to look at it, it stung but it could not have been deep. Considering he saw no bloodstains on his fingers, just a scrape most likely. But a scrape the blond prince had gotten because Merlin was trying to keep Arthur away from all of his mushy, teenage girl like, thoughts…what an absolute disgrace, his consort was. To write a love letter to this knight, who didn't look as if he was inclined to rush to Merlin's protection after Arthur had been forced to use a bit of excessive force on him. Merlin must have had terrible taste in men-or the knight was smart enough to not attack his prince-if the knight was willing to allow his 'lover' to be attacked.

So how come, when Arthur had been the center of Merlin's universe-back when he had that ridiculous crush on him-he had never written Arthur a love letter? The only thing Merlin had done was give Arthur a favor that he rejected…had the consort given the knight a favor that he accepted? Was this why the knight now had Merlin writing love letters to him…a man that would watch his lover being kicked into the dirt as he didn't twitch a single eye? At least with Arthur, the blond prince protected what was bloody his. When the brat came to him, and told him he had been attacked by Valiant, Arthur had made sure it would never happen again. Had the knight ever protected Merlin from somebody…Arthur doubted that he had, or Arthur would have heard about it. And yet…it was him that had Merlin writing down all those mushy thoughts of his on parchment. It was him who had Merlin meeting in the middle of town just to deliver it to him. And it was him who cared not, if Merlin returned to him with bruises and markings from somebody else…Arthur would have killed the bloody man who thought he could beat on his consort right in front of him, and not expect the consequences to be as severe as the crime itself was. And yet…Merlin hadn't gone and dedicated his time to writing those stupid feeling down, that he had once carried for Arthur…this ugly feeling that he had never felt before, could be felt now. Forming inside the center of his chest, as if there was some kind of beast that was trying to claw its way out of him, and it only seemed to worsen when the consort decided now was a good time for speaking up.

"…Please…" Merlin said, barely above a whisper, after he had moved himself so that he was no longer sprawled across the ground on his back. The blush of humiliation was high upon his cheeks under the stares of the gathering crowd as more and more were drawn to the ruckus of their fight, and Merlin repositioned himself so that he was now sitting on his knees but kept his eyes on the ground. His fists clenched tightly in the fabric of his knees, and his entire body was shaking as a single teardrop finally broke free from his eye and made one more trail down his wetting face. His entire body shook with violence, fear rushing through him as the aches and bruises made themselves known along his spine. This wouldn't have been the first time Arthur shoved him, but it would've been the first time Arthur didn't soften the blow by climbing over him…Merlin had never felt so weak. His lack of food became apparent to him, leaving him with barely any energy…there'd never be a chance where Merlin could beat Arthur in a fight like this. Not when Merlin had no strength in his body…which left him helpless and defenseless to whatever Arthur would plan for him...Merlin bowed his head in this poor attempt to hide his face, "Don't do this. Don't…don't read that.."

The vulnerability in Merlin's voice had the prince's own shoulders shuddering in discontent…was he really going to use that kind of innocence on the prince again? As if Arthur had not already figured out his lies and deceptions for what they really were…Arthur should give Merlin just a taste of all the emotional trauma-to go with the physical one the prince would give him later-he had given to Arthur. He should open this parchment right now, and read Merlin's most innermost thoughts before the entire crowd. Should allow them to see and judged their consort for the deceitful coward that Merlin had been this entire time. Arthur himself should study every word of the letter from Merlin's mind, force the boy to watch as he learned everything that 'really' made Merlin tick within a good way, all the ways that Arthur had thought would have been far beneath him to learn, even if only to know what the prince could use ti his own advantage. Know they enemy, as they say…but looking down at the pitiful scrap kneeling right in front of him…Arthur realized something that he knew was going to hurt Merlin far more than reading his words formed on his letter ever would.

…Pretending he didn't care about it. Arthur's hand twitched around the crumbled ball of parchment, watching Merlin lift his eyes as the sound of the crunching. Yes..Arthur inwardly smirked to himself even though he felt torn in two over what he was about to do. On one hand, the man was almost rabid in a desperate way to read Merlin's letter. To read words the consort had never spoken, to find any clues to show Arthur what had drawn Merlin to a knight who would not lift a hand to defend his own, to know how an affair like this started to begin with, and rather or not Merlin had shared his nights in a bed with his knight. If Merlin had ruined his body by being touched and caressed and groped by Erick. This letter could possibly hold all of the answers Arthur was seeking, could show him the side of Merlin that Arthur hadn't known was there. Could be the one thing in this entire world, that had Merlin's honesty written across it. And yet…Arthur wanted to hurt Merlin far more then he wanted his answers. He wanted to dig a knife into the wound that would be where Merlin's heart lied in his chest. Arthur wanted Merlin to feel the same…betrayal…that Arthur should have known was coming right from the start of their…arrangement. Arthur wanted his hurt to be paid in a flesh of pound, and he would have it. One way or the other…

So, Arthur did something he had never done before, and he carefully lowered himself to the ground, until he was able to be crouched down in front of Merlin. Crouched, not kneeling because a prince would never kneel, especially not when he was facing his betrayer. And it also kept dirt from ruining the knees of his pants, Arthur would not go around with stains of dirt just because Merlin was a fucking liar. Even when he was faced with all the rage a human body could reasonably be expected to hold, Arthur had more class then to have the consort ruin it. And he waited, not saying a word, the prince simply stuttered the lackluster and shaking form that would have to be his consort. And Arthur couldn't help but wonder, as his lip lifted up into another sneer…what had Arthur found about the consort-ever-that was fascinating. Arthur had this reason for why-despite everything Merlin did made him get irritable and agitated-he hadn't been able to take eyes off of the consort since they met.

Arthur wouldn't have wanted to call it…fascination, the word sounded like a lovestruck teenage girl that needed a healthy dose of reality. But…that was exactly what word could have been used for the unhealthy…obsession, Arthur had ended up with, when it came to his consort. Arthur would observe the boy for hours if time allowed him too, study him and his reactions to the simplest of issues, see what next would be coming out of his mouth. Arthur would never know what the next topic would be, and that reason alone would constantly have Arthur questioning things. Not only his sanity, but had Arthur wanting to do a deep dove into Merlin's brains. Find out every little nuance and crevice within his brain, find out how he could save the entire kingdom one second, and then make Arthur go from grateful to wishing he could go ahead and strange him. Find out every little secret hidden inside of the boy-from the biggest one that cast betrayal across their entire arrangement, to the littlest one that had absolutely no relevance to what was going on. Arthur would search out all of it, and force Merlin to reveal even his most embarrassing of moments simply because Arthur wanted to know MORE of the boy then he did. And yet…Arthur found the one and only interesting thing about his consort…would be hearing the sounds of his screams as Arthur made him regret what day he decided to lie to Arthur.

And so, he waited. Arthur waited, sure Merlin could feel the uncomfortable weight of his thousand yard stare stinging on his flesh, for an uncomfortably long time. Until the minutes passed them by without anyone-from the audience formed around them, to the knight watching on his horse, to the two of them themselves-saying a single word. And the royal was almost desperate enough-hungry enough, for his consort to understand just how fucked up his life was going to be from now on-to grab Merlin by the chin. And jerk him head up, so Arthur could stare into those blue eyes, and finally see all of the lies reflecting back at him, leaving indents in his chin as only a simple taste of things to come. But Arthur moved not an inch, refusing to give into his baser urges. Not this time…Arthur wasn't going to react without careful consideration to everything. He wasn't going to react to Merlin's presence as he always did, wild and angered and furious…Arthur's calm would be almost scarier then Arthur's anger had ever been.

Throughout their entire relationship…Merlin was always the one that walked away, as if he was the one with the power in their relationship to dismiss him. And Arthur was left trying to chase after him, feeling like some kind of dupe who could never quite catch up. From their very first meeting, the man had known his consort was going to be trouble when Merlin showed up, made himself known, and then walked away as if Arthur wasn't worth his time. The pattern seemed to have continued even after all these months, Arthur somehow was always the one storming after Merlin. Vying for his attention and demanding more of what Merlin had to give, and forever doomed to spend his life knowing-living far, inside the back of his mind-he was trying to make Merlin know that Arthur Fucking Pendragon was not 'nothing'. Not this time though…this time, Merlin would be the one that came to him. Before Arthur dedicated the next five or six decades of his life with every intention of making Merlin's life as miserable as Arthur was feeling in this one moment, Merlin would have to do this one thing for him. Merlin Pendragon would raise up his head …and be the one to seek after Arthur.

It was lucky that Arthur was a patient man, all the times he had spent hunting in the woods had seen to that, when he spent most of the time waiting for his prey to walk straight into his trap. Because it took him several long minutes more of dead silence, before Merlin finally lifted his head. And for a second there, Arthur could have sworn there was a bubble of some sort surrounding him and the consort. Where every other person in the entire world had been pushed out of the prince's mind, surrounded in shadows as Arthur and Merlin stared each other down. Arthur breathed through his nose, trying to contain the rage Merlin's wet eyes caused to brew in his chest, from showing on his face. Merlin was only sad because he was caught, or because he thought showing the doe eyes he had would make Arthur be willing to show him sympathy. But Arthur was far gone, and sympathy or mercy or anything of the sort, was not something Arthur would be giving to liars. Not now…not ever…

Arthur waited until he was positive that Merlin wasn't going to look away from him again, made sure Merlin could feel as if he was within the little world Arthur had created only with the two of them in mind. And then Arthur lifted up his hand with the parchment ball all folded up and crumbled inside of it. As if he was going to hand it back to Merlin, playing as if he was the gentle person Merlin thought he was begging to give it back to him. Merlin glanced down at the parchment in Arthur's hand, and then glanced back up at Arthur's eyes. It went like this for several minutes more, where Merlin would glance back and forth, clearly expecting for a trick of some kind to start. But it did not, and Arthur's have never made to waver away from Merlin, looking as serious as he would be…ever. Merlin must have decided the risk was worth it, and he cautiously raised up a hand, bringing it closer to the ball to take back his bloody secret love letter. Secrets that he felt his own husband had no right to know. Secrets he wanted to keep close to the chest. Secrets that Arthur-his prince-had no right to demand. As if Arthur didn't need to know the boy from inside and out, as if Arthur didn't need to know all the lies he was involved in, as if Arthur was some chump who'd let such a thing go without heed or punishment…

Arthur waited until Merlin's hand hesitated over the piece of parchment, clearly not sure if he should take the leap while he still had the chance to take it back…and when Merlin did start lowering his hand, Arthur reacted. In one smooth and quick motion, which had Merlin jerking back so frantically he almost fell back onto his arse, Arthur had each edge of the parchment in hand. And he RIPPED IT. The sound of ripping parchment-as he opened it just enough to tear it straight in half-was satisfying to Arthur. It almost felt like a symphony of the world's greatest music coming to greet his ears, the sound of Merlin's horrific gasp spurning him on to turn the parchment around so that he could rip both pieces to make it into forth's. Merlin didn't try to stop him, only stared with eyes so wide, they looked as if they were going to pop right out of his head. And Arthur smirked at him, this cruel almost twisted smirk that would have sent demons themselves on the run. If Merlin wasn't frozen on the ground as he was, he might have tried to make a run for it too-like a deer making a man dash through the woods with the hunter quick on its track.

Arthur ripped the parchment again until it in in eight's, and again until all eight of those pieces were now a half. He did it again and again and again, until the pieces had gotten so small, Arthur had no chance of ripping them anymore then what he had managed. Arthur thought to himself, as he was squeezing out one more rip to the small slips of parchment clenched and ruined and crumbled in between his far larger hands, that it was definitely worth it. Arthur would not ever be able to read the details of the life Merlin had lied to him about. He would never get to read the true thoughts the boy had buried inside his head. He would never get the chance to study each word forward and backwards until Arthur had a far better handle on exactly who his idiot really was, that boy having tried to hide his real face behind the lies that he had crafted. But…Arthur still felt vindicated, when he finally allowed the fingers to flow free from his fingers so that they could fall down-slowed by their weightlessness-and land on the ground in front of Merlin. The boy following each piece of it with his eyes, as if he couldn't have believed what just happened, a certain paleness Arthur decided he liked came to his cheeks.

That paleness, Arthur thought as he pushed his shoulders back with a certain level of pride washing over him, meant he had finally gotten one over on Merlin. It meant he'd been the one to win the little battle the two of them have been in since the day they met. It meant that Arthur was going to be the one to win the war. Because Arthur might never know all the things Merlin had deemed important enough to put into his little love letter, but this would be the first winning to the prince winning for a lifetime. Arthur might never know what Merlin fluffed about inside his head, but the prince would be determined to know other things that the knight in front of them…never would. Like…Arthur would know the sounds of Merlin's screams, would know just how far he would have to push before those screams torn out of a raw throat would start to crack. He would know how long he had to torture his consort before Merlin-so weak and exhausted-could only so much as twitch and grunt violently as Arthur slapped him on the lower buttocks with his new diamond studded whip. The prince would know-a certain sense of power rushing across him so violently, that it almost made Arthur dizzy with a new lust for more power-how far he had to push his dagger into the fair skin until it cracked open and bled. He would know how Merlin's face looked as Arthur wrapped his hands right around his neck, turning blue as he was helpless to push the prince off of him. And he would know the look of relief along Merlin's face as Arthur let go, allowing him to live one more day, the air returning to his burning legs. Arthur would know …every single reaction and scream and flush and panic and twitch that Merlin's body was capable of making. The blond would be able to memorize them, until he could predict how Merlin would react to the next trick Arthur pulled out of his sleeve. Merlin would learn to live, to breath, to feed, off of nothing but the prince's presence. Until the boy learned to thrive with only Arthur's existence, the only man allowed to be in contact with his stupid little consort would be himself.

Until a day came where nothing else in the world existed to Merlin other then Arthur, and the power the prince would be holding over him. Arthur would milk everything Merlin had to possibly give him, and Merlin would gladly give it. Knowing it was Arthur that allowed him to be fed and clothed, and even healed only at the prince's discretion. It would be a glorious time to be alive…for Arthur, at least. For Merlin…perhaps he might not enjoy it nearly as much as the prince intended on enjoying it himself. And as if to add further salt into Merlin's wound, Arthur lifted his chin with a proud tilt and said, "As if I would really waste my time trying to read what words you'll bother putting into a love letter. I mean, geez, that thing will probably have more misspelling's then a child learning how to read would, I mean, peasants like you aren't exactly well known for how eloquently they write…"

And Arthur watched as Merlin didn't raise to the bait, with his shoulders sagging in defeat as if he had nothing left to give Arthur. He watched as Merlin picked up a few scrapes of the paper that hadn't blown away in the wind, holding all he could with his delicate little fingers, as if he thought the wrong move would have then ripping even further. All those pieces were so small though, there were probably only one single word-or half word, depending on where it had gotten ripped at-could be read. And Arthur rolled his eyes, did the consort really love this knight so much, he would degrade himself as to sit on his knees in the dirt. And pick up paper that was completely useless to him now…Arthur would have never bothered with such a scene. But of course, nobody in the world would have caused their prince to live through the scene. Merlin should just be bloody grateful-the prince was thinking as another pulse of agitation worked it's way along his muscles-that Arthur was more focused on Merlin and all his deceptions. Arthur, with a snap of his fingers, could have just as easily had his knight arrested for treason and being improper with the prince's consort. Arthur could've dragged Merlin onto the balcony his father usually stood upon when talking to the people, and made Merlin watch as his knight and lover was executed in front of him. If only for the idiot to know…Arthur would not tolerate any disobedience like this from him ever again.

"It…it's…" Merlin's voice was crackling dangerous, drawing Arthur's eye right back to the quivering form of his consort in front of him. "It wasn't a love letter. I haven't…I didn't do any…" Merlin trailed off, as if he finally understood that the prince wasn't buying any of his lies. Merlin could look to be as pitiful as he wanted, but Arthur had trusted his lies once before, and look where it had gotten them. In the middle of the lower town, in the dirt, having this public fight…but the prince cared very little for what his people thought. He had wanted them to see this, wanted them to see their consort where he belonged-in the dirt-before they never saw Merlin again. Let them know that Arthur would not be treated as if he was some kind of fish on a hook, wooed by his consort thinking he had a pretty enough face, that Arthur would be dumb enough to just forgive and forget. Merlin could have told him he…he…sold illegal items on the black market! And it wouldn't have caused the same intense reaction as Arthur was giving right now. Merlin finally lifted his head, and dead eyes greeted Arthur's own. "Why…why would you do this to me…"

Maybe Merlin was talking about his hurt feelings from the parchment being ripped in front of him. Or maybe he was talking about all the other things the two have experienced since the day Merlin strolled-or was kidnapped from the one and only home he had ever known, depending on which one of them was asked-into the city. Arthur didn't know, and to be frank, he didn't really much care. All Arthur knew was his consort was looking at him as if…Arthur was some kind of horrid monster that had been disguised his entire time. As if he didn't recognize the man that was in front of him. Arthur could only think…either Merlin had to be the most amazing and phenomenal actor on this planet. Or…he really did think it was Arthur that was the monster in this equation. But the prince wasn't the one that had spent months lying about his virtue. The prince wasn't the one that had been most likely laughing himself silly every time Arthur had to make change in his speech, every time Arthur had been forced to correct himself before Merlin could ask him weird questions. Arthur was the one lying to other people so they wouldn't discover the supposed virtue of Merlin's remained intact. The moron wasn't the one going out of his way to make sure he was the one that was 'comfortable' and 'adjusting well-wasn't he the one that allowed Merlin to live with Gaius back when he was thinking Merlin's sudden change in lifestyle was causing him to act out because of stress. Arthur was the one that's done literally 'everything' to make sure Merlin wouldn't live with being traumatized if Arthur was forced to steal his virtue but as it turned out…Merlin hadn't had any virtue to steal from the beginning. And yet…Merlin looked at 'him' as if he was the monster…

Arthur could feel what little composer he'd been managing to hold onto, start to crack and fray at the ends. The blood rushes towards his head in a rush, the pounding in his head urging him to give the people a real show. Urging him on, to show everybody that Arthur was not to be trifled with. And not even his little consort got the privilege of being the one man in the world who could do what he wanted, and face no consequences from Arthur bloody Pendragon. Exactly what right did Merlin have, to look as if Arthur was the one who'd hurt him? Did Merlin not realize they were literally standing in front of his lover-a piss poor one, as far as the prince was concerned-and yet, Arthur was the monster. If Merlin felt so strangely about this, if he could truly not see that it was Him who was the problem, not Arthur-never Arthur-then he was just gonna force him to see. If Merlin wanted him to be the bloody monster in the story he was weaving in his head, the prince would just be the monster that he wanted him to be.

"Because-" Arthur practically yelled, loud enough for more of the crowd gathering amongst the edges and trying to get a better look could hear him, and he gave into the urges he had tried so hard to keep at bay, until he could get Merlin to someplace more private. Arthur snatched out his hands and grabbed Merlin's wrists in each one, squeezing those dainty things that Merlin dared to call his wrists tight enough for all the hurt Arthur was experiencing to be felt physically by the consort. Merlin immediately yelped-sounding like some little scared puppy, Arthur might have been more merciful if this was a real puppy-and tried to jerk away. But the prince only squeezed tighter, creasing the struggling though his moron of a husband kept making jerking motions to pull away. And the little scrapes of paper Merlin had been holding onto as if they were small treasures only he could understand, slipped from his fingers as Arthur rose to his feet, forcing his moron to have no choice but to follow with him. Or risk having both of his wrists dislocated. "You deserve everything that I have done to you! And everything that I will do!"

Arthur's vision was starting to turn red about the edges of it, he could feel the pounding in his head accompanied with the pounding of his heart trying to burst out of both his skull and his chest respectfully. This…Merlin's wiggling and trying to get free only made the red edges of his vision go deeper and darker, Arthur starting to lose himself in a way he would have never allowed himself to do before his people…but that was before Merlin had shown up and ruined everything. The boy…how dare Merlin try to escape him-the wiggling felt as if it was getting worse, but Arthur only squeezed tighter, as if his hands had turned into steel cables, refusing to allow his consort to leave him. Had Merlin ever tried to jerk away from his lover? Had Merlin ever cringed from the touch of the knight he spent his nights with, while Arthur spent his nights thinking Merlin was tucked away in that old spare bed of Gaius'. Had Merlin ever made pitiful sounds, begging for his lover to let him go or get off of him, as Merlin had done so many times before…how dare Merlin treat the lover that he should have never had, far better then the husband who could have given him…everything his little heart desired.

And when Merlin tried to jerk away again, nearly bent over at the knees as he tried to find some way of slipping hands out of Arthur's powerful hold, the prince jerked him closer so that Arthur was baring down on Merlin, their foreheads an inch from touching, "Do you really think you are anything special to me, Merlin? Do you really think nothing was going to happen to you, that I wasn't going to know what you have been doing? Did you think being consort, meant that there were no rules that applied to you. But heaven forbid I should forget telling you I expect you to have no other lovers…" the prince nearly screamed in his face, spittle flying off from his lips and smacking Merlin in the face. Making the consort fall back and cringe, unable to go far, as he clenched his teeth to try preventing the whimper of pain from escaping his lips, originated in his wrists. Arthur continued to yell, without any care of their audience, or that he was hurting Merlin with his angered grip, "But why should I have expected anything that wasn't this from you? You are so bloody stupid…you always have been. An absolutely clumsy oaf, can't think more then two steps ahead to save your bloody life! All those times I'd thought you were special, those times where you proved to be actually useful…those were obviously flukes, or a stupid chance of luck. Because you are absolutely useless! You're the worse consort I have ever had the displeasure to meet, let along to make mine! And for making you mine, this…this is how you have chosen to repay me?"

Arthur laid out all the bare minimum of Merlin's many faults out in front of him, and in front of everybody, enjoying being the one in charge when it came to Merlin for once. Enjoying the anger fueling him…there would have been a bloodbath, with Merlin in the center, if Arthur wasn't dead serious with casting his punishment on him. But there were many faults of Merlin's Arthur could have shouted, many that he wanted to shout. Merlin was an awful whiner, always talked without thinking through the consequences, never truly respected his father-the king-as he should have. Merlin never-in these three months here-learned how to dress proper, hadn't ever not managed to drag the wrong attention from visitors who entered Camelot, had not done 'anything' to help reduce the stress Arthur was constantly under. And Arthur was sure the consort would find a way to screw up a thousand different situations that hadn't even occurred in the three months the consort had been there, though Arthur was sure they would be coming up at some point. Arthur had always thought that a consort's role would have made things easier for him, had eased some of the burden's being prince had placed on his shoulders. A burdened halved, or however the saying would go. But whoever came up with such a silly saying, never had Merlin in mind. But no matter, Merlin would not be any kind of problem much longer.

"I…I…" Merlin's eyes darted around himself in frantic need, to try and find help since he could not help himself. But he was utterly alone, strangers staring at him from each, every direction. He felt each of his flaws staring at him directly in the face, the words spewing out of Arthur's mouth sharper then any dagger could have been…and Merlin returned his gaze to the prince. "I…I know I haven't done anything…but I just…I know I've caused issues…" but Arthur's face grew so much harsher, and Merlin knew 'issues' was too far a little word for the prince to live with. Merlin tried to jerk his hands away once again, digging his heels into the ground to find a bit of purchase but…nothing. Arthur didn't even look as if he was struggling to hold him in place, and Merlin tried to use all his weight, dropping down to drag himself out. But Arthur only jerked him back off, nearly making his fly off his feet…he struggled to get a semblance of a real sentence out of his mouth. But Merlin was 'this close' to having a complete panic attack. He was breathing too hard, too fast, too…too much air but not enough at all the same time. But Arthur's touch was BURNING him, and Arthur wouldn't let go, and he was trapped, and…Merlin sagged in Arthur's grip, allowing the prince's hold on him to be the only thing holding him up from the ground, lowering his head in shame as if he was in shackles, "…I'm…I'm sorry. I only wanted for things to be all …good, between us. But it's not, and it's not real, and…I am so sorry…"

The words spilled out of Merlin's throat mindlessly, he was willing to do anything. Say anything. Beg…anything…as long as Arthur's fingers made dents in his wrists. It hurt so badly, his wrists were aching…the sores Merlin had made with his own nails were stinging underneath Arthur's grip. And there was no chance for Merlin to dig his nails subtly back into his wrist to alleviate some of the pain, to transfer the emotional into the physical…Merlin's fingers were sticking up out of his hands and all Merlin could do was twitch helplessly. But the pain radiating up his arms was doing a good job at doing the job. It was too tight though, too snug…and Merlin could not understand why Arthur didn't just say what he wanted to tell him without touching him. Why was he inflicting pain on him and why was everybody acting as if this was normal…could Arthur just let him go. And could Merlin-begging to any one of the gods and deity's, few as he knew-not fall into a full on hyperventilating vent. Arthur would not save him from it and the people would not save him, and…Merlin bloody well was only able to wish that Gaius had never found him hiding off in his closet. The tears were threatening to overspill from his eyes, and…Merlin would rather be dead. As long as the man would forgive him for whatever sins Merlin had done for him to hate him so much…Merlin would even confess to dating a man if it helped. As long as it soothed Arthur's anger, made him let him go…saved Merlin from feeling as if he was down already, burning in eternal damnation…

"You wanted us to what? You wanted for us to be real…well, I hate to tell you this, Mer-Lin, but whatever we had…it was not ever going to be the real deal! Not now. And certainly, it won't be later…" Arthur sneered madly down at Merlin, and he shook the boy roughly, as if he was nothing more then a simple rag doll, ignoring Merlin crying out in panic and fear, the pounding of his head drowning out anything that would have alerted Arthur into realizing he was going too far. But that was his prerogative, was he not? Arthur's decision to do more, go further…ignore Merlin's safety so his anger was finally able to be seated. "And you were a bloody idiot if you thought just because I married you, I could ever 'stay' with a fool such as you!"

Merlin let out a half broken sob, feeling his shoulders when they shook violently. Feeling as if the bones that had made up his wrists were being grounded into dust inside the skin casing it. He wanted to jerk away from the burning, but he'd tried that so many times already, and it only seemed to hurt more and more each time he had. Every time Merlin tried to escape, Arthur had only came down on him harder, and now it was impossible to escape. Merlin had missed his chance, if he had even had one to begin with, and a few more tears managed to escape and fall down on either side of his face. He just wanted to be safe, to feel safe…that was the one and only thing he wanted. But Merlin hadn't been safe since he'd been born, he was stupid to think he could've found a single thing like it in Camelot, of all places. Arthur was right, Arthur would always be right…Merlin really was a fool. A stupid, old fool. And hiding away in his room all these weeks had done not one thing to change it. Merlin was just as much a fool as he was when he went in, as he was now…

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Merlin started to mumble to Arthur under his breath, his eyes squeezing shut so tightly it forced more tears to roll down his face. And Arthur sneered at the pathetic display, was that it? Was Merlin so weak, that it took a few harsh snakes to completely wreck him? He had big plans for Merlin, plans that Arthur would not allow to be stopped, put to a halt, or interrupted, simply because Merlin was not as strong as he first thought he was. The blond had hoped Merlin would be a bit more fun, where perhaps Arthur could tie Merlin to one of those tables that stretched out the limbs in the torture room until, they Arthur had managed the impossible, and dislocated all four limbs at once. But if that was the kind of display that Merlin put on, why, he would be no fun at all. Not if it looked as if Arthur could break him as easily as this…and that meant…Merlin really was no different then any other common liar on the street. Sure, Arthur could have dressed Merlin up all pretty, and paraded him around in front of everybody. But…once a commoner, then always a commoner. And what was more common then a liar, then all the dirt under their feet…Merlin wasn't good enough to kiss the dirt off Arthur's bloody boots. "Please…just let me go…I am sorry I failed you…I'm sorry it couldn't be real…I'm sorry I'm not good enough…"

Merlin's head lolled to the side as Arthur gave him another shake, but Merlin could barely feel it. Everything was fading into the background as Merlin did the one thing in the entire world he could do to protect himself. He retreated inside his head, inside his safe space, inside the one place that Arthur was not supposed to touch. But touch it he did…it seemed as if not even inside his head was safe from the prince. The safe space had always been Merlin, imagining himself sitting near the hearth of his hut back home, the smell of the little something his mother had managed to get her hands onto, cooking over the fire and permeating through the air. But he could not seem to stay there, the safe space flicking in and out of existence around him, briefly leaving him into a huge endless black void before the hut would reappear all around him. And then vanished just as quickly, it would have been far easier for Merlin to catch smoke with his bare hands. He 'wanted' to catch smoke with his bare hands, knowing that he would have preferred spending an entire lifetime doing just that. As long as he didn't have to live with one moment more of Arthur touching him. Yelling at him. Dragging him in the muck for the amusement of his people…whatever traces of Before Merlin remaining himself of him, was shrinking into nothing as Arthur continued to shake him. Now, Merlin could barely feel the hands on his wrists even though he knew the grip would still hurt the second he came out of his mind, but for now, it was just numb. Blissfully numb, even as the dark rings shaped as handprints formed along the pale flesh the longer Arthur held onto him…

"Real?" Arthur crackled with laughter, the bitterness came out sharp and cruel, sending shivers down the spine of the many who watched, though no one dared entertained even the thought of entering the fight. For the first time, Arthur could feel the rush of honest to god hatred coursing straight through his veins, hot and heavy and controlling his actions in a manner not befitting of a married man. But Arthur didn't care…Arthur's one and only regret was not allowing Gaius to go through with an 'actual' check on Merlin, as his king had wanted to prove that Merlin was no longer pure. All of this, it could have all been avoided if Arthur had never made a deal with Gaius to hide it. Gaius could have told him that Merlin's posterior had already been entered long before he came to Camelot. Arthur should have bloody well allowed Gaius the opportunity to stick what could've been torture devices up Merlin's rectum to check. The second Gaius returned to him with the results, he would have known Merlin had been lying to Leon that first night, known that he had carried on such a lie right through their wedding night. Had known the horrid person Merlin was, right from the get-go. Instead of Arthur allowing his obsession to grow as bad as it had, "You…You do not even know the meaning of the word!"

As far as Arthur was concerned, a real relationship had to have a sexual component mixed into it. He knew that there were some couples that were perfectly happy never having sexual contact, but Arthur had never seen a life like that for himself. Being married to a man…having to make due with a hand only, had became a necessity. But things would have been different, if Merlin had been born a woman. Arthur was sure Merlin would have understood what would happen that night between them if he did. Arthur would have climbed up her slim and quivering thighs, would have taken measures to undo her wedding dress as gentlemanly as he could, as the two of them would have been perfect strangers to the other at that point. Arthur would have tried to make it pleasurable and not as awkward as it felt, cupping her voluminous chest in his hands, toying with her nipples until she became like a kitten-the soft sounds Merlin sometimes made when Arthur didn't react to his yelling to get off of him-and sliding one of his hands in between her slick thighs. He would have made quick work of opening her up, before he dared to remove his own pants so he could slide his cock inside of her. And quite possibly impregnate her, if they were lucky enough so they would not have to relieve the awkward experience anytime soon.

But if Arthur had been any kind of man, any kind of prince whose first concern had been his kingdom, he would have forgone his own stupid morals that kept him from taking the consort on their wedding night. If he hadn't been convinced he would have traumatized Merlin if he tried to touch him…then Arthur would have done when he needed to do to keep his kingdom safe. After all, every moment Merlin had gone untouched by him, was another moment Arthur was risking their kingdom. They weren't really married, since they had never consummated. And each second that went by where they weren't, Arthur was risking his kingdom falling into the consort's hands for not fulfilling his end of the bargain their parents had made decades ago. But Arthur had thought he was showing the boy mercy, thought he was doing what he had to do to protect the idiot. And yet, if Arthur had known this was how things were going to turn out, then there was a good chance he wouldn't have bothered.

Arthur could vividly remember the way Merlin had casually sat on the edge of his bed to talk, on their wedding night. It had freaked Arthur out, as he tried to figure out how he was supposed to make a sexual move on a man. But he should have done a lot less thinking, and a lot more doing just for it to be over with. He should have bloody well shoved Merlin onto his back-would the boy have carried out his act, before trying to struggle away, to continue pretending he held onto his innocence and didn't know what was going on-and then climbed on top of him. He should have ripped that wedding top open, so Arthur could get a look at what the untouched skin of his husband looked like, unless he'd had farewell sex with some horrid village boy that left marks across his skin before he'd left. He should have touched the boy intimately-on a nipple, perhaps? As he tested the waters-to see if the consort would gasp like an innocent maiden who had never been touched there before would have done. Or if he would have used some kind of seduction trick he'd picked up over the years of being a whore to others, one that would never work on a man as strong and as straight as Arthur. But…no matter. Arthur would have continued down the boy's body if only so they could get things done, and move on as if Arthur had never forgone his attraction to the female form to get it done.

Arthur would have climbed off of him only long enough to jerk his pants down those stupidly slim hips of his, to get to where he needed before he called it a night. And if the boy was as innocently stupid as he had claimed, he most likely would have tried to run. But if Arthur was smart, he wouldn't have fallen for it. Perhaps, if Merlin was playing games and wanted to be roughed up a bit, Arthur would have been far more willing to grab one of his belt's, and use it to flip Merlin onto his knees before tying one of his ankles to his bedpost to keep him still. It would have been a lot easier to keep that moronic boy in place, so Arthur could finish up. Arthur knew he would have needed to climb onto the bed behind Merlin to finish up what a 'real marriage' would have entailed. The prince would have pushed his own pants down just enough so he could free his cock, and he would have had to touch Merlin by that point. Put his hands on his lower cheeks so he could spread them apart, if only to find where the hole in-between was, so Arthur wouldn't have to hump him like some kind of demented dog until he found what he would be looking for.

Arthur would have had no choice other then to finish what he had started, have their marriage become 'real' within the eyes of the law. He would have had to pump himself a time or two to get hard, knowing that Merlin's physical form was not going to do it for him, but needing to be hard enough to get into him without slipping right on out. There would have been no awkwardness as there would have been if he was a woman, Arthur's only goal being to get in and out as fast as he could before he got sick all over Merlin's back. The blond prince, doing his duty for the safety of his kingdom, needed to press his cock up against Merlin's hole, and then push all of himself inside of the boy. Ignoring the startled yelling and Merlin's constant wiggling, as the hole swallowed him up in it's entirety. For a whore such as Merlin, who had probably slept with far more men then just this knight, it would have been nothing at all for Merlin to take the inexperienced with men and what they needed, Arthur.

Arthur would probably take far too long being inside of him, far more then he would have wanted. But considering Merlin had a less then pleasing male body, Arthur would have had to do some serious imagination to get himself hard enough to find completion. Arthur would hope that the friction being applied to his manhood from Merlin's rectum squeezing him would be enough for him to finally be able to come inside of the boy. Painting Merlin's insides with his cum, and mixing what seed managed to come out of him with the all the seed from men that had touched him before Arthur had got hand on him. Now that, Arthur thought, was what a real marriage would have entailed…and Merlin dared to say he was 'sorry' they never got a real marriage? Was Merlin sorry he never got the chance to have Arthur disgrace himself by sleeping with a man, or was he sorry he thought he was so smart that Arthur would never figure all of this out?

Thinking of how easily he had been duped that night, Arthur felt his rage starting to reach it's peek, and everything in the prince's sight seemed to be going a hazy fog of red, deeper and darker then it had been before. When it had only been a tinge, Arthur was losing control, and he didn't care enough to try and rein it in. And without thinking, Arthur tightened his hand around one of the wrists in his grasp. There wasn't a loud crack, but definitely the sound of something starting to break, echoed throughout the silent and quietly watching crowd. Merlin's scream of shock and pain, as he was forced out of his mind and back into his horrid reality, would not be enough to snap Arthur out of his rage endured reactions.

Merlin nearly fell down to his knees, the pain in his wrist had gone far worse then Arthur just touching him. It was burning and pain jostled up his arm with every twitch of the prince's fingers around his wrist. Tears flowed more heavily down his cheeks then they had been before, Merlin unable to contain them anymore. His eyes shot down to his wrist, where there was a purpling discoloration starting to show above where Arthur was holding him. It…it hurt so much, and Merlin tried to jerk his arm away by instinct, trying to get rid of the pain Arthur was causing him. But Merlin nearly crumbled as the lightning flash of pain shot through him. He didn't think that it was broken, but…one wrong squeeze from Arthur and his wrist would have been ruined faster then Merlin could have broken a stick of wood. His mouth was open, gasping with desperation for air as he tried to breathe through the pain…

"Let me go, let me go, just let me go…" Merlin chanted, and begged, his voice coming out in broken sobs. He had known this would happen one of these days, he had known that the prince would hurt him physically one of these days. The boy had known Arthur would do worse things then just holding him down, and pinning him into place to where he couldn't escape, and yet…the pain radiating through his wrist made it all so…real. Arthur was actually, physically hurting him…he'd gone from just being an abusive arsehole, to causing Merlin actual abuse. In a way not even the prince could deny, how could anyone deny the awkward way Merlin had to hold his wrist to give him the least amount of discomfort. But Arthur squeezed again, and Merlin gasped as he fell fully down on his knees, the harsh ground against his knees giving Merlin purchase as he felt something pulling in his wrist again. "Let me go, just let me go…STOP IT!"

Merlin's scream was the loudest it had been in weeks, and it echoed around him, tearing through his throat in such a raw manner, that it made a few people shift uncomfortably. And the prince was not one of them, something inside of Arthur withering and snapping as easily as a cord when Merlin tried to dare beg for his mercy. Arthur's vision was seemed to be entirely red, and for a second…Arthur could only see Merlin as the enemy. Could see Merlin as somebody who deserved to have the prince's blade against the hilt of his throat, as he readied himself to slit that pale throat. Somebody who may as well be a danger to the kingdom, and would need to be exterminated before he had grown even more out of control then he already was. But Arthur supposed that had been his fault, giving Merlin leniency when Arthur wouldn't have gave it to any other. Things would be remedied…right here…right now…

Arthur jerked Merlin harshly off the ground, so hard that his head jolted back from the force, and Merlin let out this loud and heart wrenching scream as what little holding his wrist in place tightened. To where one wrong move could've been enough to dislocate it from his arm completely…and Merlin could feel every joint inside of his wrist sending all of these agonizing aches up his arm. And when Merlin landed back on his feet-hard, and the force of it forcing his knees to hit together as he scrambled to find his footing-his head would continue to follow the force of gravity. Slamming forward so that his chin bashed itself harshly against his chest…Arthur had never been so violent with him before. He'd constantly thrown Merlin around again and again, from place to place, and never satisfied with what he was doing, but this…Merlin could feel his lip throbbing from where his front teeth ended up slamming against it…this was entire different. Everything had turned violent, and painful, and it wasn't them trying to outwit the other anymore…it was terrifying. And Arthur was not done with him yet, as he jerked Merlin straighter so that his head was flung back, forcing the two of them to look the other in the eye.

Merlin's eyes were blurred with tears, making it hard for him to see a damn thing other then the blurry figure of the blond prince holding him captive. But that didn't stop Merlin from being able to make out the steel in Arthur's eyes…he might as well have just been stabbed straight in the heart from the steel blade that could have been forged out of those eyes…and Arthur finally let go of his wrist. Only one though, and it was the one that felt as if it was throbbing, trying to jump its way out of his own skin. Merlin felt very little relief though, as Arthur only shifted his hand so that it was gripping onto the fabric of Merlin's jacket. Merlin choked and sputtered as his hand fell limply down at his side, it hurt to much to move it, let along to try using it to push Arthur away. Merlin tried to pull back again…one of the tricks he had learned when he was play fighting the other boys in his home had been using his dead weight as an anchor to force someone down to the ground with him. But Merlin weighed so little, Arthur did not budge once again. The prince only tightened his grip, which made Merlin hiss through clenched teeth as the fabric went taunt against his shoulder. Straining, and pulling, and Merlin needed to breathe, but all he could breathe in was the scent of Arthur, making him sick, as the prince jerked him close by his clothes-his other hand still wrapped firmly holding onto his other wrist, but not damaging it nearly as much as he'd done the first one-until their faces were nearly pressed right up against the other.

Merlin could see Arthur better this way, but by god…he did not want too. Arthur was close enough now, that Merlin was able to make out the angry flush on his face. The way Arthur had his eyebrows in the middle of his forehead because his glare was that hard. The gasping way he was breathing, as if his anger was too much for him…almost identical to the way Merlin was gasping desperately for air to go down into what he could only describe as his lungs burning. They had their breaths intermingling somewhere in the middle, and neither would have been able to tell which was dominating the other one. Or if their breath was just disappearing into the air the second they met…Merlin's face scrunched up because the prince pulled him closer. Close enough that their foreheads were touching together, the pressure of skin upon skin that was unrelenting, hard enough it felt as if Arthur was trying to push inside his head…Merlin wanted to yowl but he didn't think he could get it to come out. It sent shockwaves along his oversensitive skin, making Merlin wish he could cringe away from it.

But Arthur…Arthur was unrelenting, and Merlin was helpless in his grip, and god…why hadn't he stayed with his uncle. Oh God, why had he came here, just to face this torture…Merlin should have never came. Not to the marketplace, and not to Camelot City…Merlin should have confessed to his magic all the way back when Leon had first asked him about it upon their first meeting. These three months…they weren't worth living, Merlin could have done without any of it. Merlin would have preferred to burn for his perceived sins, then have the prince touching him. The fabric of his shirt doing nothing to prevent the BURNING, BURNING, BURNING, sensation that shot across his too sensitive skin. Arthur didn't notice, nor in his righteous state would he have cared. Arthur only knew he had Merlin exactly where he wanted him, and Arthur was going to continue having Merlin exactly where he wanted to have him. And damn anybody who thought they could stop him from seeking retribution and justice against a lying tart like Merlin…

"You little idiot…constantly whining about what you want or how entirely unfair your life is just because I never wanted to bother treating you with the dainty fingers a gentlemen may use on a lady. Well, have you ever thought about what it is I wanted? Have you ever considered what I have done just for you since you have arrived? But I suppose that you have not thought about that, the way you wasted your days way back in the beginning, trying to force things that aren't there. You only concerning yourself with fantasies, thinking we would be something that lasted…" Arthur wasn't yelling at him, but Merlin almost would have preferred it. The prince seemed to be frighteningly calm, giving Merlin a sense of disscontempt as he winced, Arthur's fingers going deeper in his shoulder, digging into the muscle he had there. "…I spared you on that night, and yet…this is where we ended up…"

Merlin felt his eyebrows coming together, blinking rapidly as he tried to think of what Arthur was talking about. He had all this confusion swimming across his face…spared him? That night…what night? There'd been dozens of nights where the prince and the consort had ended at odds with the other…in this moment, Merlin couldn't remember if they'd 'ever' had a night that ended good. But which of the nights was the man talking about? And spared him from what…had Arthur lived through the same situations that he had? Because he felt as if he had been put through the wringer, one that he was still stuck living in. Merlin definitely didn't feel as if he had been spared of anything…so what was Arthur talking about? The prince had also said Merlin never thought about Arthur and what he wanted, but …the only thing Merlin ever seemed to do was think about Arthur! It was why he had let go of his stupid little crush, long before Merlin had realized he wasn't worth having a crush on. Because Arthur hadn't shared the same interest-and had rejected him in the harshest way he could have…it was one of the many reasons Merlin nearly went into a tailspin of a panic attack at the mere thought of Arthur. Because he was constantly trying to do something that would make him be…not happy, but less angry with him at least. Merlin's insides were practically quivering…and he didn't dare try to defend himself against Arthur's claims. But he was just not able to figure out what specific event Arthur was talking about…his brain literally felt as if it was on fire or it was melting…he wasn't sure which one was worse.

But Arthur wasn't wrong either…how much time had Merlin wasted back in the beginning. Instead of doing something a bit more productive, like an escape plan when things would turn for the worse-as it did-he had been stuck on living out his fantasies of what an ideal marriage to him would've been like. Daydreaming about the nights where he and the prince would sit by the fireplace, the heat chasing away the cold of the night, as they talked about anything and everything…to get to know the man they were married too. Merlin wanted to always feel the little bubble of excitement growing inside of his stomach when he knew his crush-when he knew that Arthur-was waiting somewhere for him. Merlin had wanted to know what it would feel like for somebody to look at all of him, and love him despite all of his flaws. Merlin wasn't yet experienced enough to know, he should have been looking for somebody who would love him 'because' of the flaws he had. But anyway…Merlin had been stuck only on whatever it was he had wanted in the beginning. He hadn't bothered to even find out if Arthur was gay or not, until the prince flung that particular news into his face.

But before that…Merlin had often dreamed about what kind of courtship the two of them could have. Wondering out in the woods, taking king walks away from the castle so that the two of them could finally be alone. Having dinners with only the other, as Arthur introduced Merlin to his world. And Merlin would have been eager to introduce the prince to his own…if only he knew then, that Arthur would never leave his cozy little fancy castle for anything Merlin wanted to show to him. Merlin would have been glad to court the prince, if that was the way Arthur wanted to go about it. But not one courting gift Merlin would have been able to get his hands onto, would have been good enough for his royal highness. No outing Merlin could have came up with, would've wooed Arthur to look twice at him. And all those times where Merlin wanted somebody to look at his magic, and not think he was the monster he knew himself to be…those dreams had died long before Arthur had told him to fuck off. But…what kind of marriage could the two of them have, when Merlin didn't get even one of the things he thought should be included in a marriage…an abusive one. One where there was no such things as compromises so the both of them could be happy. What was Merlin's happiness…other then finding an end to all of this…

His stupid crush had been the start of everything. From the moment he had tried to give Arthur his favor, and made his intentions to Arthur clear. He should have kept such things to himself, because everything had gone downhill ever since then. Things had changed, with the blond becoming meaner and progressively more aggressive towards him. But Merlin supposed he deserved it, for thinking his childhood dreams could have become reality. But Merlin wasn't a child, and his husband wasn't the man of his dreams, and the prince tried to hurt him…and his wrist was still aching as a reminder that Merlin wasn't safe here. That he should flee, but his legs felt locked into place. In Merlin's life…there were no place for all the thing's a child might find interesting to dream about. All of that was just things liable to get him killed…

Arthur's hand dropped away from where it had been holding onto his shoulder, and Merlin would have sagged forward to the ground, having no strength in his legs to keep him on his feet. But Arthur was again, not yet done with him. The blond shot his head around Merlin's back, and his hand landing on the nape of Merlin's neck, hot and heavy as he dug his nails into the soft strands of hair that fell back there. A loud gasp escaped from Merlin-choked up and wet sounding, with his spine going stiff at the touch. And then Arthur-giving Merlin no chance to flinch away on instinct-jerked the consort right to him. So that Merlin was pressed with his entire body firm against Arthur's. Their boots were banging together, neither one able to find where to put them without hitting the other. Merlin's knee bashed painfully into Arthur's, though the man didn't flinch at the contact he initiated. Their hips could've been flushed together, nobody able to tell where the other one started or ended. Their stomach's, their chests…Merlin was not sure if the heartbeat he was hearing was his own…or if it was Arthur's.

Merlin blinked, trying to take in the new position he'd found himself to be in. Where the edge of his forehead was being forcibly pressed against Arthur's neck, and the only thing he could see other then endless miles of tan skin, looked to be the constant fluttering of Arthur's pulse point. Moving only in his eyesight…and Merlin shook violently against the form of the prince. His wet face already causing a damp patch of wetness along Arthur's shoulder, and Merlin curled his hand into a fist. Though it was only seconds later would he realize Arthur was no longer holding his uninjured wrist…and when Merlin had curled it into a fist, he had curled it into Arthur's shirt. The fabric bunching underneath his hand as his digits locked into place…Merlin unable to get them to let go since he was shaking so hard. Merlin didn't think a wet cat could have shook much harder then he was. But Merlin did end up discovering where Arthur's other hand had gone, when the other man wrapped it firmly around Merlin's waist. Tugging him all the more closer, so that Merlin was stepping on the boots of the prince to accommodate for how close the two of them were…Merlin could feel Arthur's neck was all sticky with sweat. Could smell the pine that waved off of the other man in waves, as if it had all built up directly onto Arthur's pulse point. And for a second…time seemed to have grown frozen, as Arthur held onto him tightly.

Merlin tried to understand the extremely unique position he was in. But the only conclusion he could come to…made not a lick of sense to him. Was Arthur…hugging him? To all them who watched like vultures waiting for the prey to finally stop kicking so they could have him, it would certainly look to be as if the two of them were sharing a lover's embrace. But…the prince had never held him like this before. Not once…in all the time they have know each other, had Arthur clung to him like this. He'd held him down before, but he had never actually 'held him'. But, it was blistering hot being pressed together so intimately like this, and Merlin let out another choked sob…was he seriously crying on Arthur's shoulder right now. This was not because he wanted too, but only because the blond was locked around him tighter then the ropes binding him to a pyre would have been. Arthur had already seen his weaker points today, but Merlin couldn't stop the sobs as they were continuing to escape him. Merlin wasn't strong enough, and could not keep them contained when being offered a sense of comfort. But it tore Merlin up on the inside, as if he was being cut with a thousand or so wires he couldn't see…why would he degrade himself by shedding his tears onto Arthur. Was he really so pathetically weak, he would take comfort if it was given to him by his own abuser…was he really stupid enough, that he would forgive and forget. Just to be loved, or cared for, or…

Merlin never managed to finish his disparaging thoughts, as the prince reminded Merlin exactly why he'd never wasted his time going to him for comfort. Arthur dug his nails into the nape of Merlin's neck harder, causing Merlin to gasp and freeze as a fresh wave of pain rolled down his spine. It left Merlin's senses going tenfold, on high alert…he was able to hear the sound of every heartbeat as if it was his own. Was able to practically hear the sizzling of sweat as a droplet of it rolled down the side of Arthur's neck, landing on the edge of Merlin's nose, the wet droplet almost pushing Merlin onto the edge of freaking out. Arthur wasn't hugging him…Arthur wasn't trying to comfort him…all things he had known, also things he had wanted to ignore…Arthur was only holding on him like this so that he could hiss something into his ear. A little something that was meant just for him, and the consort perked his ears up, cringing away as Arthur's hot breath was hitting the side of his neck.

"Just because I did not share the ridiculous feelings that you once had for me, did not give you permission-" and the way larger man tightened his grip onto the nape of his neck after feeling Merlin trying to lean away. Arthur's blunt nails felt as if they had been turned into claws, piercing Merlin's neck…but it forced Merlin to keep still. Knowing in this position, it would take Arthur only one swift motion of his hands to take him out. One swift jerk of his neck, and Arthur-who Merlin was sure would know how to do it-would be able to break his neck. Ending his life in less than an instant, faster then Merlin would have been able to blink. Giving Merlin no time to…say goodbye, or his version of goodbye at least, to the people that had made his time in Camelot a bit somewhat more bearable…the only reason he hadn't already went on to off himself…Arthur continued, "To go and find somebody else that will fill the endless void of your life."

Merlin curled into himself, knowing that there was no point in trying to reason with Arthur about the whole 'I'm not on a date, or haven't dated anybody since, well…ever' thing. But his body still shook, uncontrollably…because…Arthur would have to be right. Merlin might not have been filling a void in his empty life with somebody else, he didn't have any other to fill that void with. But…there was still the void-like a huge and gaping black tunnel inside of him that grew bigger and bigger and threatened to swallow him whole-and Arthur was once again showing his cruelty. Able to pinpoint Merlin had a void, but not compassionate enough to know he shouldn't poke at it as if it was some kind of plaything. Merlin felt the way Arthur's hand went up to cup the back of his head, the strong fingers of Arthur sinking into the pit that was his dark and thick hair. Merlin could almost guess what was going to happen before it did, and the consort grunted through those choked off wet sobs that kept trying to break through, when Arthur tightened his hand to grab a fistful of hair. The young consort sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, trying to stop himself from yowling like a pathetic house cat, when Arthur jerked his head away from him, still holding tightly onto the grip he had around Merlin's waist so that he couldn't go far.

And then Arthur just STARED at him, his gaze fixating onto Merlin's face as his eyes flickered across it. Memorizing the little minute details of Merlin's face that most people would have dismissed. The red tinge to his nose because of how much he had been crying. The way the tears had caused his eyelashes to clump together. The ruddy and smudged look of dried tear tracks mixed with the fresh that was streamed across his face…the way Merlin chewed on his lower lip…but altogether, this moment only lasted for that long. One single moment of time…though Merlin could have sworn that it had stretched eons. Where in normal circumstances, Merlin may have tried covering his face to hide how miserable he looked right now. Or would have at least tried to wipe himself up so others wouldn't know 'exactly' how much of a mess he had become. But Merlin's insides quivered, and he didn't know what to do. Or why Arthur was looking at him like that…but the prince's anger was returning in wild abandon. The young consort was able to see that much, and felt it-Merlin nearly bit through his lip to stop himself from an endless parade of screaming, and screaming, and screaming DON'T TOUCH ME! DON'T TOUCH ME! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!-when the prince's grip on his waist grew tighter. His hand digging painfully into Merlin's hipbone with his searing touch, almost making Merlin feel as if Arthur was trying to claim him. As if he was his possession, or his toy…Merlin didn't know, but he knew being within the sight of Arthur Pendragon…made him want to hurl.

"Stop fucking doing that already!" Arthur barked at him, and making Merlin flinch violently in his arms. He had expected much more then that, and Merlin had to take in this shaking breath when he realized nothing more was coming. His head was throbbing painfully, and he was trying to wrap his mind around the next confusing thing Arthur had said to him in so many minutes. Stop doing that already…stop doing what? It could be that Arthur wanted him to stop crying, but all these tears were still making more and more indents in his cheeks and didn't look as if they were going to be stopping anytime soon. The only reason his sobs weren't echoing all over this whole village was because of the death grip Merlin had, with his teeth pressed harshly against his bottom lip. Or perhaps Arthur was still going on about the dating thing, maybe this was his weird way of telling Merlin to stop making a fool out of himself. All Merlin wanted to do was scream…if I did know how to not make a fool out of myself, don't you think I would have done it ages ago? But Arthur was still staring at him as if dozens of people weren't watching their interactions, and Merlin could only shake his head helplessly, not knowing the next step. Not knowing what to do. Not knowing, what it was the prince wanted from him. Merlin brought his elbows into himself, trying to make himself look as small as possible, as a less desirable target of anger, when Arthur rolled his eyes as if he was being obtuse on purpose. "You fucking moron…your lip! Stop chewing on your damn lip! We all know you've got one, you don't need to show it off…though I'm sure that your new fling probably enjoys the sight, it won't give you a single inch with me!"

Arthur nearly yelled this in Merlin's face, feeling as if he was starting to froth at the mouth. But he hardly cared as he felt another surge of anger rushing throughout his body. Merlin and his damn lip…always using the stupid thing as a means to distract somebody. It was bad enough to know Merlin had probably been doing it for his lover, but now Merlin was bold enough to do it in front of half the kingdom! Why…the prince may need to reach out and pry that bloody lip out of Merlin's mouth to get him to stop. Before it started to tear and bleed and…only Arthur should make him bleed. Not something the boy was too stupid to realize was bloody bad for him. Arthur tightened his grip on Merlin's hipbone, jutting the boy's hip so that it fell into the little crook between Arthur's thigh and his manhood, the hold possessive and strong. That stupid…prick of a knight…Arthur thought, as he remembered what his original anger had been. Was the knight also pissed that Merlin was showing off in front of people, pissed that Merlin thought his little seduction tricks could be used to anybody who showed up? Probably not, if the useless knight that his idiot had chosen, could not stand up to fight Arthur for what he thought was his.

But Merlin would never belong to the knight, of that…Arthur was sure. After this night, the knight would never again see the way Merlin tugged that lip in between his teeth, sucking until it was bruised and glistened with his spit. He would not ever see the way Merlin would bite softly, or bite harder, and either one depended entirely on the mood Merlin was in. He would not ever see the tousled black hair falling into his wet eyes. He would not ever see the way Merlin would allow for his bottom lip to pop out whenever he needed to take in one more deep breath, before immediately going straight back to sucking on it. As if he would die if he wasn't chewing on something…perhaps Merlin had a bit of an oral fixation, and that was something Arthur felt as if he should know about his consort, at the very least. Thank god, Arthur thought as he dragged Merlin closer still, their chests pressing up onto the other to keep the boy from escaping him, he was highly immune from falling for those kinds of little cheap seduction tricks. The male form did absolutely nothing on Arthur! But Merlin would learn-yes god, he would learn, Arthur thought in a bloodthirsty maddening way-everything that the prince felt was displeasing about his behavior. Why, even now after he furious Arthur was…perhaps the reason Arthur was really clinging on so tight was so he wouldn't take off his own coat and throw it over Merlin's head. Anything to shield away that glistening lip of Merlin's from public consumption…but if this was what Merlin wanted to show the people-their people…who was Arthur to stop him from being a slut in front of the entire kingdom.

His husband, perhaps. Merlin was his to protect after all, but that little vow Arthur had made to himself long ago, seemed to fly out the window with Merlin's betrayal. Perhaps it may be time for Arthur to update it…Merlin could be His to Hate. His to Control. His to…absolutely Ruin. Yes…Arthur thought he would quite like the idea of ruining Merlin. Why protect a boy that did not want to be protected. When rushing him be ruined could be the greatest thing that had ever happened to Arthur. And in retrospect, the lip sucking thing seemed to be such a trifle matter when compared to what else he must have been doing with that Knight…so why did Arthur's cheat continue to BURN at the thought of what worse things those two had gotten up too. It wasn't as if Arthur would ever have it happen again…

But Merlin seemed to rear back, as far as he was able to get with Arthur's arm wrapped around him like a steel cable. His confusion swirling across his face seemed genuine, but the prince saw Merlin's lip pop out from between his teeth once again. And Arthur could feel the heat building inside of him, could feel it when everything seemed to be shooting over a sharp tipping point that Arthur hadn't even realized the two of them in question were standing on. But Merlin licked his bottom lip, so fast and quick that Arthur barely had time to see Merlin's pink tongue before it was disappearing back in the cavern that was his mouth. And something inside of the prince's chest went tight, some kind of animalistic roar that wanted to escape from his lips when he saw that Merlin was once again refusing to follow a simple order. By the time the prince was done with him, Arthur vowed as him arm around Merlin's waist went so tight, their bottom half's could have been fused together…Merlin would never disobey him. The consort would never ask questions. The consort would drop immediately, and do whatever he said without Arthur having to repeat himself…

"What…" Merlin whimpered, his voice sounding gurgled with all the wetness leaking out of his orifices. Merlin tried to do his best to keep up with Arthur, but doing this complicated medical surgery probably would have been easier for Merlin to comprehend. Stop…chewing on his lip? Merlin shook, the arms around him doing nothing to keep him still-it was only agitating him worse-was the prince really going to try taking everything he had away from him? It was bad enough Arthur had taken his home, but now he was going to take this away from him…the one thing that was grounding Merlin. The one thing that Merlin could control, feeling as he tore into all the flesh on his lips…it was similar to how Merlin felt whenever he dug his nails into his wrist. Albeit on a much smaller kind of scale, but the matter was the same. Merlin biting onto it, was probably the only reason he hadn't gone completely bat shit crazy yet. The only reason he hadn't started beating his fists against Arthur's chest like a crazy person. The one and only reason Merlin hadn't started screaming 'let me go, get off me, stop fucking touching me' as if he was a deranged lunatic that needed to be locked away so that he wouldn't be able to hurt others. The only reason Merlin was holding to the little bit of sanity he had, though it felt as if he was on a tightrope. And was only one step away from falling off and hitting the harsh ground miles beneath him. And Arthur was trying to take it from him…just like he had oh so easily taken Merlin's letter from his mother. And ripped it into as if it was less then a used tissue… "What are you talking about…liking it…my fling…"

Those were the only words Merlin was able to get out, with the muscles in his throat constricting together to try and do Arthur's job for him, and kill him. But why couldn't the blond just say what he meant, why was he putting Merlin through all of these head games. Why was he saying things that had made Merlin want to cry an entire river worth of tears, why'd he have to be so angry all the time, why couldn't he just talk to Merlin instead of screaming at him. Merlin had known the confrontation between him and Arthur was going to be bad, but he hadn't known it was going to be so…confusing. He'd barely understood every fifth word he said…why would any fling?-did he think that right?-like watching him chewing on his lips, as Arthur seemed to think. Why would somebody in the world, enjoy watching Merlin breaking down so much, it was physically harming himself that kept him from falling to ruin. How could people be so cruel…how could anybody out in the world, find enjoyment in sitting down and watching as Merlin's teeth chewed and chewed and chewed, until he had ruined his lips. How could anybody be drawn into looking at a set of lips-everybody had them, after all, so why would his husband think he was trying to 'show them off'-as the small sorcerer tried to hold himself together…

But Merlin realized far too late-as he always did-that trying to question Arthur-so he could understand for once what he was going on about-had been a huge mistake. Merlin could see from his vintage point, the way Arthur's face contorted into a mask of pure hatred, so deep and so dark that it had taken what little breath Merlin had right out of his lungs. He should fall to his knees right now-if Arthur wasn't the thing holding him on his feet-and beg for Arthur to forgive him for questioning him. Should make promises, and swear with his life on the line, that he would never step out of line for not a single day to come. Should swear he would never have any 'affair'-as if the rumors were true, Merlin no longer resisting them as he had in the beginning-with a man who may enjoy looking upon Merlin biting upon his lips-which had to be the weirdest thing the consort had ever thought in the entirety of his nineteen years-but Arthur seemed to be stuck on that one thing. And who was the lowly, peasant turned consort, Merlin…to question why the Prince of Camelot-his husband- was so angry with him.

Merlin only had enough time to register that in this light, and with all the hatred written across Arthur's face…his husband truly looked like his father's son. Before Arthur was shoving Merlin away from him, making Merlin stumble in order to try catching himself. But being that Arthur's arms was the only thing keeping Merlin upright, his weak legs gave out and the consort started to crumble towards the ground. The consort would make it to the ground, alright, but not before a sharp and sudden burst of pain erupted along the right side of his face. Not before Merlin felt the corner of his lip ripping open from the force. Not before the ringing in Merlin's ears grew so loud, he could not even hear the gasping from several of the people watching them. Merlin hit the ground, dirt flying up to cover him as he sprawled on his back, looking up with a dazed expression. Only for the sunlight to be covered by the shadowy form of Arthur standing over him, leaving the boy on the ground with only enough light to see the blue of the prince's dangerous blue eyes-not regretful or shamed in the least-glittering down at him.

Arthur, Merlin thought, tasting the blood coating the inside of his mouth…had just backhanded him.