You might want to be careful about the things you say…I am sure there are some people who would say that is just your passive aggressive way of calling me pretty…those were the words Merlin had uttered to him not that long ago. With the sarcasm and dry wit high on his tongue, his eyes looking as if they were in some far away place. Merlin's head was most definitely swollen if his little 'joke' hadn't been as much of a joke as it should have been. But Arthur supposed, whenever a person spent their days with their pants down around their knees more often then not, it would be quite easy for a head to grow and swell with cockiness.

And Arthur wouldn't even say cockiness was a bad thing. He knew that he was cocky, but he also had all of the skills that one needed to explain his cockiness. And he had worked on himself for years-his skills with a sword were phenomenal-to deserve a touch of swollen head. But Merlin only seemed to have one skill, and Arthur would hardly say allowing weird men to stick their cocks inside his hole was something even a freak like Merlin should brag about. But then the boy went and dragged Arthur into his sick little fantasies…trying to do his hardest to trick Arthur. And inviting the prince to call him pretty, like a simple minded fool who would say anything for Merlin to allow himself to be the next strange man to stick a cock into his hole.

But Arthur was smarter then that, better then any one of the simple minded fools who allowed Merlin to talk himself into their beds. And there wasn't a force on this earth that could have allowed such words to fall from the prince's lips…not a thing that could have made Arthur say 'yes, Merlin. You are a pretty thing.' In fact, this could've been the perfect chance to show Merlin some discipline, and perhaps backhand him against the face again, to leave a matching mark across his other cheek. It would show Merlin such mouthy words were no longer going to be tolerated. Show Merlin that he would not 'ever' insinuate Arthur could be attracted to Merlin just because he wore some decent clothes for once. Anybody in the world could have put Merlin in proper clothes. But there was not a soul on earth that could take the uncouth peasant out of him like one could his clothes. Not a soul, perhaps…

But there was also only one man that was allowed to leave marks and bruises and welts and scars on Merlin's body…a single man only, who could slap the living daylights out of Merlin and continued his day as normal. But, even the blond prince could admit, after tonight…nothing was going to ever be the same as it was. Because the prince may not be dumb enough to admit Merlin was pretty-why should Arthur be the next one to inflate Merlin's ego-but…Arthur found it far more troubling denying it then he should. Found himself liking the marks he had caused on Merlin's face in a way that should have disturbed him. But it didn't. There was one unfortunate side effect of those markings though…

They really did make Merlin look pretty.

And perhaps the reason why Arthur wanted to cause more of those markings was because he was a very greedy man who saw what he liked, and wanted to see more of it. He did have a feeling though, if Merlin had gotten the markings any other way then by his own hand…Arthur wouldn't be nearly as pleased with the results as he was now. It was by his own hand that Merlin was marked. And it was a simple fact alone that made Arthur want to do it again and again. To watch as those markings healed overtime, and then do it again to see if he could make it any worse. Make Merlin spend even more weeks trying to recover as he winced every time he pulled a facial muscle in the wrong direction.

The greatest power in the world that a man could have, was when he had power over somebody under him. And it was a head rush, quite a surreal feeling, knowing Arthur would get ample chances to make Merlin more beautiful then the other boy had been in his entire life. Why should Merlin go around as some sort of plain Jane, going around as if he was just an unassuming young thing…until he tried to coerce another to take him up the arse like some kind of depraved animal. Like a husband should, was it not Arthur's sole job to make sure Merlin lived up to his fullest potential? And if Merlin wanted to waste his life by being 'mediocre', why should Arthur not step in and show Merlin how much better he could be? Why should he not be the one to show Merlin how pale skin was always going to look better if it had a splash of red all along the chest. Prove to Merlin that while he might enjoy having his hole stretched wide around another man's junk, there'd be no feeling more pleasing then the stinging of Arthur and his lash against Merlin's inner thighs.

Maybe Merlin went after all of these men, and allowed them to do the sickest and most depraved things a man could do with another man-and that was only the simplest things, like sticking their cocks into each other. Who knows what more sickening things that could be doing to each other-because they made him feel pretty. Made him feel seen in a way that a normal boy would never be. But Arthur could do far more then 'make him pretty' by adding a little color to his face. He could make him Beautiful. Gorgeous in a way that shouldn't have been possible. All Arthur needed to do was make him see it as well. Make Merlin be addicted to seeing the future red welts that would decorate his body just as Arthur would be to giving them. If Arthur could direct Merlin's desire from these other men, to something that would be more fulfilling lifestyle-who would not want a life as Arthur's whipping post where they would never have to think again. Where all they needed to do was allow Arthur to tie them up, and jut out his arse so Arthur could take his pound of meat out of it. People might actually find that relaxing, knowing Arthur would take care of everything-then Merlin would never look back again.

Merlin could spend the entirety of his life being beautiful and catered too…could be dressed up with both silks and ropes and know he looked far more then just 'pretty' with either one. His consort only needed to take out the stick that some other man had lodged up inside of him, and give himself over fully to Arthur. Once that was out of the way…Arthur could spend hours upon hours painting Merlin's skin in the most beautiful way. Could see the blooming of colors blossoming as Merlin laid back, eyes rolling around into the back of his head as his body jolted in response to whatever it was Arthur was doing to it…beautiful, it would be.

"I don't suppose you'll be interested in telling me why you look the way you do? Or what happened to your face." the prince said in this strangely husky tone, eyes moving almost unfocused, trying to take it all in but knowing he would find something new every time he saw another piece of flesh. It was a rhetorical question though, they both knew what had happened to Merlin's face. But Arthur wanted to hear it from Merlin's own lips. He wanted to see that scar on his lip start to widen as Merlin explained in excruciating detail what the prince had done to him. He wanted Merlin to know his place and the first step could only be describing it. Could only be Merlin giving into Arthur this first time, while Arthur's eyes seared itself into his bruises like a hot stone. "Or maybe you would like for me to tell you what happened…and why I did it to you?"

Arthur was almost embarrassed by the eagerness coming out of his voice, but that didn't sway him from watching his consort with an equally excited expression. Especially when the consort gave him a vaguely withering expression…Merlin knew what Arthur was doing. And seeing a hint of that brain in Merlin's head gave the prince a pleased feeling. None of it was going to be fun if Merlin proved to be just as dumb as a whore was meant to be. Arthur didn't want this piece of clay who would do whatever he wanted without question. Maybe he would like for that to be the end results. But Arthur liked to think he wanted things to be different in the beginning. It would be so much more satisfying for Arthur, if he could get the defiant and vibrant Merlin he knew to submit to him. The prince could get any other whore off the street if he wanted to hurt somebody. But Arthur didn't want to hurt Merlin, that was only the weapon he choose to use. He wanted far more then simply 'hurting him.'

Arthur wanted full submission from Merlin. He wanted, more then anything, to see Merlin on his knees with the handle of Arthur's whip between his teeth. Like a dog bringing his own master it's leash to take him out on a walk. Eager to remind the prince that he hadn't given Merlin a daily lashing. Arthur wanted to see the flush of humiliation blooming high across the apple's of Merlin's cheeks, but watch as the boy would slowly undressed himself because Arthur commanded it. He wanted to see Merlin slide his feet into the ropes the prince would like to see tied to the end of his bed one day, and he wanted to see Merlin lay back and put his hands right above his head, one laid over the other and waiting patiently for his prince to tie them to his headboard. Maybe trying to spread his legs open a little, to try and entice Arthur into leaving far more whip marks across his inner thighs. To accompany the old ones that still hadn't healed from their last session. The submission was all Arthur wanted, was the one thing that he craved more then anything in the world. To see the consort with wide and trusting eyes, because Merlin knew the prince was not going to untie him until he had been wrung dry, and given Arthur everything he wanted from him. Not begging to be let go, because he knew Arthur already had a plan for the day and nothing would deviant from it.

And when Merlin gave him this almost sinister looking smile and his lips stretched so wide, the scar across his lip going more vivid as it tugged and pulled against the skin around it, making Merlin look positively ghoulish in comparison toward the beauty Merlin had been coming down the stairs, the one thing Arthur could say…his heart skipped a beat inside of his chest. And when Merlin said boldly, his fingers doing an odd little tapping thing that briefly drew Arthur's eyes down onto the slender digits-one, two, three, four, five. One, two, three four five. One two three four- "Are you still going to sit there and say you don't abuse me?" Arthur could have sworn that there were literally hearts growing in his own eyes. Not love hearts for that would be ridiculous. But desire, yes…he had this mountain of desire growing inside of him.

Merlin might have been accusing him of abuse again, as he still couldn't see Arthur was doing all of this only because it was for his own good. But good god…Arthur had to quickly and subtly rub the back of his sleeve under his mouth just to check for drool. The defiance showing back up in Merlin was absolutely delicious, knowing Merlin needed more then a simple hit across the face to submit to him was almost like music to his ears. God, Arthur just wanted to take Merlin so badly. To lock them in his chambers and demand that not a soul disturb them for the next week at least. His hands were almost vibrating with the need to put Merlin over his knee to show him a proper lesson in respect. A lesson that would go ignored until Arthur was forced to get creative-this would be a true challenge that the prince was eager to overcome-and find a new way for the message to sink into Merlin's brain. It would be a constant game of tug a war between the both of them, each one trying to claim master and dominance over the other one. But they both knew that Arthur would win, no matter the fight his consort tried to put up. But Merlin spent so much of his time being a whore…so perhaps he would be familiar with this lovely device Arthur had heard of once. He might just know how Arthur could get his hands on it, while making his whore past actually come in handy for. once. The device was a simple thing, basically just a strap with the ball attached to the center of it. Just imagining seeing those lips stretched wide, seeing the red of the scar on Merlin's lips as it tore itself open wider to accompany the vibrant red ball in the center-for Arthur refused to have any other color-and to hear Merlin gagging around it. Grunting like an animal as the prince paddled his backside, jolting his body up further onto the bed but unable to go far with Arthur's large hand able to hold both of Merlin's slim wrist behind his back…fuck. There was not any chance Arthur was going to last through all the hours till morning. He couldn't even swallow because of how dry his throat was.

But…soon…Arthur promised himself, with what felt like just a slighter of darkness was starting to creep into his veins. The prince felt…wrong…in a way. Not because of the darkness in his soul, that actually felt pretty liberating in a way, since the prince always had to act a certain way to appease his father. It would be nice to be able to let go with Merlin...but having to force himself to do this whole restraining himself was the major issue he was having. The one thing that Arthur should never have to do when it came to his consort was 'restrain' himself. Merlin was his, was he not? He should have every right to snatch him up and exert just a little bit of his power over the boy. And okay, maybe it was next to impossible for Arthur to do any of the far bigger stuff he wanted to do, but there would be time for that much later on. But there was absolutely no reason Arthur couldn't do something smaller, more simple. Like turning the consort around so that his face was facing the wall like he was in the child's corner for time out. There was no reason he couldn't instruct Merlin-maybe guide him, if he proved himself to be difficult-into placing his hands against the wall so he could brace himself. And there was absolutely no reason why the prince should not give Merlin one, two…three sharp smacks along his back side to get his message across. Not anything that would truly bruise the boy-not yet, at least-but enough that Merlin would most likely still feel the sting of it when he sat down later on. Arthur could act like Merlin's defying him and back talking him was a major issue all he wanted, but…all Arthur wanted to see was Merlin trying to sit gingerly into his chair after that same defiance urged Arthur to do something.

But still…Arthur had to grudgingly admit that Merlin's little 'woe is me, I'm being abused because I like to spend all my time sucking down other men's cocks for no reason other then my own amusement' reminded the prince that not all would see Merlin's bruises as the beautiful marks of defying Arthur that they were. Nobody would be able to stop him or even try, he was the bloody prince after all. And Merlin was his property, to do with as he wished. But it wasn't the kind of impression he needed to leave on Mercia if they were to continue this treaty into Arthur's future reign as king. Those markings would need to be covered up. And the prince was once again gonna have to restrain himself to only smacking his consort in the face when he knew there wasn't any event they both needed to be presentable for. It appeared that the prince would have to live with only beating Merlin around in places that couldn't be seen. Places that would be covered up by clothing…that could be fun too, in a way, Arthur could admit with grudging approval. It would be like their own little secret. Merlin walking around with nobody the wiser of all of the vivid red welts Arthur had crisscrossed up his back with his flogger that very morning…

"Okay Merlin, this is what I'm going to need you to do if we are going to pull this off." Arthur said, using his strict 'don't mess with me' voice. Arthur could get excited off of Merlin's defiance later but there was only so long the party extended before people started asking where they were and why they hadn't arrived. Hell, as disgusting as it was, maybe people would think they were running late because the two of them were off 'necking' each other, or something ridiculously gay as that. It would be better then anybody knowing Arthur was actually dying to get his hands on this guy in front of him…but, priorities now. Fun, later. "Madame Teresa's quarters is close enough to here, just upstairs and right down the hall. I am quite certain that I haven't seen her entering yet. So I am sure there's a good chance that she hasn't left her quarters yet. If you run fast enough, I know she has supplies that will find something to cover that up-" wrongfully assuming that the only reason Merlin was down here without masking it up was because he didn't have anything proper to use on it. "I'll just go inside and distract my father for as long as I can. My father loves a good laugh, perhaps I can make a joke just to keep him occupied for a few minutes. Something about you being fashionably late like a girl or something. And once you are done, you can sneak in and join me with nobody being the wiser, yes?"

As far as Arthur Pendragon was concerned, his plan was absolutely brilliant. And people loved hanging on his every word so hopefully King Bayard would be just the same now that Merlin wasn't around to distract him from being a more proper king. And once Merlin returned, everything would be right back on track and Arthur wouldn't have to worry about one thing other then making sure Merlin managed to behave till the party was over. It was too bad for Arthur Pendragon…but Merlin Pendragon was having different thoughts entirely. And didn't jump to obey the prince's words the first chance he got. Instead, Merlin only stared at him. As if he couldn't quite understand why Arthur was telling him to leave. Which had to be just plain stupid. Merlin was smart enough to have his own make up put on without Arthur being forced there to watch as supervision, right? Well, Arthur thought…if his brat was having a moment of stupidity, then surely he could just bloody figure it out. Because Arthur needed to be here-and not running around among the castle-to keep everybody in distraction mode. The only worry Arthur had about his plan was…maybe Merlin wouldn't come back if he allowed him to be out of his sight. But…no. Merlin had finally shown up the once already. So surely Arthur wouldn't be forced to go out of his way and handcuff the boy's wrist to his own so there was no chance of disappearing on him…right? He was going to come back…right?

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Arthur demanded with a bit of impatience leaking out of his voice. If Arthur ever wanted a chance to get his hands onto Merlin, then they would have to get through this stupid banquet first. Which was another thing they couldn't do without Merlin's cooperation. So, the prince put his hand out and gave a little-maybe more then a bit harsher then he needed to go-push against the consort's shoulder towards the stairs to get him going. And Merlin fell backwards, catching himself with one hand grabbing on the banister of the staircase, while his foot landed onto the first step. And Arthur pointed up the stairs, "Go! And get all that makeup stuff you need."

Merlin Pendragon followed his husband's finger up the dark staircase, and back to Arthur's steely gaze. And back up the stairs again. Again and again, Merlin would go looking back and forth to try determining rather he should actually listen to Arthur this time or not. On one hand, going through with it would give Merlin a few extra minutes to himself and out of Arthur's presence. But on the other hand…Merlin would have to go through working himself up to returning all over again. It had taken him everything to make it to Arthur this first time, walking with each foot in front of the other until it had felt like stone cements were trying to hold him in place. Merlin didn't think he was strong enough to do it again. And besides…Merlin hadn't squeezed his little mirror to death as he decided to allow Arthur to see him-the real him, with the imperfections and the flaws and the horrid disfigurement of his face-just to back out at the last minute. And actually put the make up on when he had already denied Gwen a chance to do it.

One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five. One…Merlin continued counting his fingers rapidly from where he was tapping them against his thigh. Anything that would just help him not give away his panic under Arthur's scrutinizing gaze…what was Arthur going to do anyway, if Merlin denied him now? Kill him-the consort thought with an oddly morbid sense of humor. It was what he wanted, so it was like Arthur would actually be doing him some kind of huge favor…right? So he should be pleased about what was probably going to happen, right? And not…anxious as hell. He'd been far more calmer when he had made his decision in Gaius' chambers…but he supposed it was different now that Merlin was on this literal countdown. Just waiting for Arthur to reach a limit on how long he was going to-one, two, three, four, five-put up with Merlin. He hadn't changed his mind, he still wanted to end up on a slab until somebody gave him enough time to dispose of his body. But…Merlin cleared his throat before he steeled himself, ready for anything the prince was going to probably throw at him next. Both figuratively, and literally…

"…No…"

…Arthur's jokes weren't entirely funny either, Merlin thought to himself belatedly. So that part of his little plan would not have worked anyway. He would have just been making a fool out of himself. And by Merlin from association alone. So, it'd be better to stop that carriage wreck from happening before allowing Merlin to go out with what little dignity-if there was any-he had left.

"…No…" Arthur repeated slowly, as if he had not ever heard that word before a day in his life. He'd been hearing it plenty as of late, but somehow, the No from Merlin stumped him. It did very little though, to alleviate the delicious shiver that he could feel curling around his spine, causing goosebumps to form on the back of his arms. Maybe-Arthur thought with an excited hum under his breath, as his eyes raked once again over the bruisings of Merlin's eye-maybe he was protesting only because he didn't want to cover up his bruises. Maybe-and Arthur would have been more then happy to indulge this trait of Merlin's if it was true-his consort wanted to show off his bruises just as much as Arthur wanted them to see them again and again. Hell, training Merlin would come far easier then Arthur had ever hoped, if Merlin was already at a point where he wanted to show everybody the bruises he wore on his body with pride. Showing off how good Arthur had given it to him, show off how well trained he was because of all of the work Arthur had put into him. "Maybe you should try to clarify that for me," as Merlin raised his eyes away from the floor to look Arthur dead in the eye, a singe of electricity the prince was sure only he could feel surging through his body. "I don't think I entirely understood what you meant by telling me 'no'."

Arthur would only forgive the boy for his impudence if it was true, and Merlin really did want to keep the marks across his face as a sign of his ownership. Because Arthur wanted it as well. It wasn't something the prince would've expected from Merlin, but it was a shame that such truths had to come into the light during the banquet. If it was any other time or party or feast, Arthur probably would have allowed the boy to give into his fun side. But as Arthur didn't want to give the Kings the wrong impression of him-discipline wasn't abuse. Merlin had deserved what he'd gotten, and Arthur would continue training his consort until he deemed him perfect-then Merlin really did need to cover up his markings. His consort's bold defiance-this time around, at least-would be fun when they had their games. Arthur could just imagine Merlin asking his royal husband if that was all he had, forcing the prince to go whipping his back even harder to show Merlin 'exactly' what he had to give him. But there were a time and play for such games as that. And this banquet was not the time for either of them to be dipping their feet into the water and testing it out. There was no reasons to cause waves during this huge and momental piece of Camelot history that was happening right now. Unfortunate as it was…they would have to try this out another time.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what there is to be confused by what I said." Merlin spoke, and Arthur's lips almost twitched into a grin by Merlin's whole 'I'm sorry' act. His brat was this little spitfire, wasn't he? Anytime his consort had apologized to him in the past, it was followed by some kind of sarcastic wit. And Arthur was most eager to hear what it was…not the usual emotion Arthur would feel when his consort was doing his best to get under his nerves. But perhaps it was all those endorphins flooding his system after seeing Merlin being all bruised up and broken. Maybe it was because his little brat was trying to be all cute and sneaky, hiding away how much he adored Arthur's bruises…whatever the reason for it…the prince was almost giddy because of it. It was quite the odd thing, considering Arthur usually dreaded these feasts as if they were the bane of his existence. But if Arthur could keep Merlin by his side, whispering those sarcastic wits inside of his ear and out of hearing range from those who might have been offended…maybe such feasts would no longer be the worse thing. Not when he had something to constantly keep his mind occupied. And speaking of sarcastic wits…the little brat leaned forward and all the prince wanted to do was lean forward as well, so he could see more of the little bitty sliver of blue peeking out from Merlin's swollen eye. "There is not a single thing to misunderstand what I tell you 'no.' I am not covering up my eye."

Arthur could have screamed, when this feeling of absolutely pure elation started building in his chest. The pressure of it was building and building and building and Arthur wanted to know if Merlin was feeling the same elation from this whole impromptu battle of wit. It was a little taste of what all their own games could be like…Merlin being defiant because the consort wanted Arthur to beat it out of him. His boy was still being cute with his sneakiness…Arthur hadn't miss the way Merlin hadn't admitted that he wanted to keep his bruises to allow the public to know about their games. And it was okay with Arthur. The public didn't need to know about their own private business, even if it gave him a thrill to have all others know 'Arthur' had been the one to tame the defiant boy who clung to his arm. But it was strange to see the boy being so shy about what he wanted. He had no problems just baring his naked arse for strangers to see on a daily basis. And yet it was his own husband he would try to hide his desires from now? Was it strange that Arthur had gotten this really weird swooping sensation in his stomach, as if he had just fell off of some great height? Probably. But hey, Arthur was seeing a shy Merlin. How many people could say they have seen a sight like that? Not many, probably. And that thrilled Arthur to no end, knowing this was something only he would see.

"You're being cute." The words fell from Arthur's lips mere seconds before he could stop them. And as soon as the few words were out there in the open, the man had immediately wanted to slap a hand over his own mouth. As if that would have prevented them from being heard, the silence between the two of them seemed to be screaming volumes. The man had most definitely not been planning on saying such words like that…Arthur had simply meant Merlin trying to be all shy was cute as fuck. Because of how strange it was for him to be shy, when Arthur would soon be learning everything that there was to know about Merlin-inside and out. But without the proper context being included, it had actually sounded as if Arthur was 'calling' Merlin himself cute. Something that the boy most definitely was not. It would have been a huge gay moment if Arthur had called Merlin cute, and as Arthur had already established many times over, he was definitely not in the same camp as Merlin. It didn't matter if all those bruises appealed to Arthur in some strange, primal way. He had been stupid, because this would probably only end up reawakening Merlin's old crush on him. And true enough…as Arthur looked up, he saw the way Merlin had moved back as if to put space between them. How his entire face seemed to have turned redder then a strawberry-bringing the colors of his bruises to an impressive orange-ish hue-and his eyes were wider then the wheels of a cart…fuck, the prince knew he needed to fix that mistake before Merlin got his hopes up all over again. "I simply meant that it is cute that you do not want to hide your bruises. But as much as they should often be on displayed, now isn't the time. And I hate it as much as you do, but you need to see Madame Teresa tonight, okay?"

Then Arthur did something that he rarely-if ever-had done when faced with Merlin. He smiled. A soft and sincere sort of smile that would have had women wetting their panties to be the recipient of such a look. This was Arthur's version of encouragement, like an adult taking the hand of a child and leading them out to a field to go play with the other children running amok. This was Arthur encouraging Merlin, trying to silently tell him-as well as move away from his 'you're cute' comment as quickly as possible-that everything was going to be alright. Just because Merlin had to cover up all of his markings now, didn't mean they couldn't return to Arthur's room after the banquet. Get a washcloth. And have his boy sit in one of his many chairs so Arthur could take the cloth-soaked in water-and carefully rub it down along the face of his consort. Watching Merlin wince and whimper lowly with the roughness of the cloth reigniting the stinging from all of his markings…the water on the cloth dripping down Merlin's chin. Droplets sliding down the long length of Merlin's neck and throat as he arched his head to the side to give Arthur more space to work with. Watching as those same droplets disappeared teasingly under Merlin's top, trying its best to encourage Arthur to follow along with it.

Arthur ignored the way Merlin was currently gaping at him just like a fish would if it was out of water. Or as if the boy thought Arthur had suddenly grown a second head from his neck…in a perfect world, Merlin would have behaved just as giddy as Arthur was. He would have nodded his head, eager to obey his prince because he knew Arthur would never be the one to steer him wrong. Merlin would have spun around and hurried up the stairs, his waist doing that stupidly awful swishing movement he always did when he walked, trying to draw Arthur's eyes down onto his hips. Merlin might've even shook his arse more purposefully-if he seriously thought the prince meant anything by his poor 'you're cute' words-as he disappeared around the corner. If he thought Arthur wanted to see anything like Merlin's scrawny arse shaking all around for him…which…wasn't such a bad idea.

No, no, no, no…just let Arthur try to reason with himself for a quick second here. Maybe it wouldn't be such a terrible idea for Arthur to nurture that crush Merlin had on him-surely the lingering effects were still inside of him somewhere, having been buried beneath the surface to protect himself from all of Arthur's constant rejections. And sure, Arthur had tried to do this particular tactic before…using Merlin's feelings to go and get what he wanted out of him. But this was going to be something entirely different! It was strategic, almost like this battle plan being put into motion. If Arthur managed to force Merlin into thinking he had grown feelings for him-maybe he should thank his father. Clearly Uther had been right all this time, when he had tried encouraging Arthur to do the same thing he was contemplating now…using Merlin's emotions to get what he wanted. Uther wanted Merlin's cooperation with the way they ruled this kingdom. And Arthur wanted to have strict obedience from the boy (with a hint of defiance when he was in the mood for a fight)-then it would be much easier to keep Merlin where he wanted him. It might become a big problem later on, when Merlin started questioning why the prince never touched him sexually. Or why he never tried to kiss him…but that could be handled when they came. Arthur only needed to string Merlin along….he might've been smart enough to come up with this whole 'I'm a virgin so don't try and fuck me on our wedding night' crap. But surely Arthur was smart enough to pull off this deception for a while. Just how hard was it to pseudo seduce a whore…

And with Merlin distracted by Him…hopefully whatever men he had waiting in the wings would be nothing but a distant memory…

"You know," Merlin said slowly, lowering his eyes back onto the floor, trying to shake off the while 'you're cute' comment Arthur had made. All his life, he had been waiting for some boy to make an interest known, and now it was Arthur trying to take some kind of…cheap shot at him? Was this Arthur's weird way of making fun of him? Trying to ruin just one more thing for Merlin before his ultimate end…but it was also still completely humiliating how his body was reacting from any fake comment made by…Him. The way his heart was trying to beat itself out of his chest, the way he could have put up a hand and feel the heat coming from his face even before he touched it…like a fire keeping someone warm during the cold winter nights. It wasn't because it was 'Arthur' who had said it. It was simply because Merlin was so unused to any kind of comment, even one made by the enemy would have shaken him to his core. Merlin swallowed past the lump that was in his throat, embarrassed because he knew he would have been jumping for the moon if Arthur had said that only a month ago. Like the pathetic chump he had been, looking for any validation from the man that hated him. "…You sure are talking a lot about what I should do. How I should go and get covered up…it makes a boy wonder about some things-" and Merlin crossed his arms low on his chest, down closer towards his stomach as if he was trying to protect himself from anymore of Arthur's weirdness. "Like perhaps you are ashamed by what you did? Embarrassed to have your own consort walking around with a mark shaped exactly just like your own hand. We wouldn't want the other nobles to find out their prince is no better then any common thug making a name for themselves in the street, would we?"

Arthur's spine went stiffer then a stone wall-the offense that shot through him greater then anything…whatever thoughts he'd been having about Merlin seeming to wash away from him by the petulant name calling. A thug…Merlin thought he was nothing more then some thug who spent their time just standing on street corners and…what did they do? Shaking people down for money…cornering some poor chump trying to walk home after whatever work they did in the market…he wasn't like that at all! Arthur Pendragon was a dignified man who took responsibilities for his decisions. Which would be why Arthur wanted to take Merlin to his room so badly…he'd already started them off with his backhand. It would only be right that he finished it. Even if it took a few…dozen decades before he decided he was finally done. Arthur couldn't think of anything further then a thug then himself…

But Arthur watched as Merlin took a few slow steps closer to him, stopping when their shoulders were only inches from brushing against the other so the boy could whisper lowly in his ear, "Do you not remember what I told you only a couple of weeks ago, honey?" The term of endearment was almost spoken like a curse, more vile spitting off of Merlin's tongue then if he had actually been cursing Arthur out. But the man could only stare Merlin down, looking down his nose at all of the dark lines that made up Merlin's eyelashes, bringing full color out in the unmarked eye, barely listening to a word he said when he could only see the startling shade of blue, far more darker then his own blue was. Arthur's could've been described as a calm blue skies. But Merlin…his looked more like the sea when it was at war with itself. Dark and powerful as the waves crashed against each other in a desperate bid for their own dominance. "If you ever listen to a word I said, maybe you'd know…I did say I would rein hell itself down on your head if you ever laid a hand on me-" Merlin's voice was almost trembling, but there was no telling if it was because of fear or because of the burst of rage trying to command him to take a more direct approach against Arthur. One that was more physical, where he could hurt Arthur just as badly as the prince had hurt him. Where he could leave marks he would have to walk around with like a mark of shame across the skin… "…maybe you should have heeded my warning."

Arthur felt as if he had just been doused in cold water, as if some poor and unfortunate soul-after Arthur got his hands onto them-had just dumped an entire bucket of freezing ice water from the river after it had sat frozen during the winter month's. This…this wasn't right…Arthur thought, and barely noticing when Merlin walked passed him without saying one more word on the subject. Arthur remembered, of course he did, he remembered everything that Merlin had done since the day they met as if it was seared into his brain. Images of dark hair and wild eyes and a face scrunched in displeasure at him seemed to flash by his mind's eye. But no memory in his head was more vivid then the time Merlin had sworn that he would 'rein hellfire' down on his head should a day come where Arthur actually hurt him. And look now…today would be the day Arthur had hurt him. He wouldn't deny it, Merlin had the bruises on his face as solid proof for what he'd did to him.

But Arthur also hadn't bothered taking his little threat into account. In fact, Arthur had dismissed the threat as soon as he heard it. Thinking it nothing more then Merlin once again trying to make a mountain out of a molehill. Thinking Merlin had only been trying to one up Arthur, or lay validation onto his 'woe is me, I'm abused, whine whine whine' little act the boy had been playing with back then. And so the prince had ended up walking away, refusing to entertain Merlin for even one single second. But clearly…Merlin hadn't been making a idle threat. He hadn't been playing any games, wasn't going to go back on his word and chicken out now that Arthur had 'actually' done something to him…

"…You cannot be seriously…." Arthur choked out, causing the consort to stop in mid-stride towards the door. But the prince didn't look back at him, bowing his head while he had his hands shaking at his sides. Anger? Or fear due to what was going to happen when his father caught sight of what he'd done. "Do you really expect to go in there clinging onto my arm looking like some sort of rejected freak?" The prince barely heard the started gasp escaping Merlin's lips, but the prince did whip around to face his consort, and saw his lips thinning as the consort shifted his features into a stubborn 'hell hath no fury' kind of expression. Arthur shook his head and pointed over Merlin's head towards the thick doors that stood behind them. "My father is in there! King Bayard is in there! And you are what? Planning on marching inside and facing them with the way you look! What are you planning on saying when they ask you about your face!"

There was only so many excuses that Merlin could've came up with. And while Merlin was somehow able to lie straight to Arthur's face without being caught-sue him, he was still extremely bitter about Merlin coming up with that whole I'm a virgin plan, just so Arthur wouldn't touch him-but he didn't think Merlin was so good of a liar that Uther would fall for it just as he had. His father was a strong king who took all that he heard with a grain of salt. He'd had dozens of years more experience then Arthur did with picking out liars and finding out how to discern the truth from friction. There wasn't any chance possible that Merlin could come up with something believable, and be able to pull it off without being caught. If Merlin did the same thing he did with the virgin lie-making it so elaborate that there was no chance it could be true, thus it must be true because nobody would think of doing such a ridiculous lie-then Uther would have his bloody head. Son or not.

"What do you mean what am I planning to do? I'm going to tell anybody who asks the truth about what happened to me today. It wouldn't be much hellfire if I tried covering up your arse for what you did to me." Merlin exclaimed with far more boldness that he actually felt. But Arthur could literally feel it when the color drained from his face. Somehow…the man hadn't once considered Merlin might spill the truth. He had just assumed Merlin was going to lie to save some face. This was the kind of thing some of his new recruits might try and lie about to the other men…it was somehow less humiliating to say they-a trained knight of Camelot-had ran into a door or something. Instead of just admitting they weren't paying good enough attention and their opponent during this spar had gotten them. "I will tell them that my husband heard all of these undignified rumors running around about me. And instead of asking me like a man, decided to take matters in his own hand and claimed me guilty. Like a toddler throwing a tantrum…"

Forgetting that Merlin had once again claimed Arthur to be a spoilt child…this was probably the wrong moment for Arthur to feel as if he had ice forming in his veins as a thought that should have hit him earlier, only hit him now. Fuck…fuck…oh my…fuck it all to hell! Merlin had never wanted to not cover up his bruises because he wanted to march into that room and show off how Arthur knew how to handle him. He only wanted to go in there so he could control the narrative. This had been his whole plan all along! To humiliate Arthur and try to wreck his own reputation. Merlin probably wouldn't bother to explain he had earned those markings by being a no good cheater. Why explain that, when he could just elude to the prince being some kind of animal who attacks people for no good reason. Even the husband that he was meant to be in a loving a committed relationship with. What a devious plan…Merlin really did play the 'I'm an idiot' card excellent, if these were the kinds of plans he came up with whenever he wasn't looking at him. It would have been brilliant, if the plan didn't involve ruining everything Arthur had been working on and towards his entire life. The respect of his people.

The sounds of walking footsteps shook Arthur into reality, and to his horror, he saw Merlin had given up on him and was now walking towards the door again. Reaching out his hand to grab onto the doorknob, "…Wait!" Arthur screamed as loud as he could before Merlin could open the door and walk inside and ruin absolutely everything. Merlin jumped in startled surprise, but Arthur was already throwing himself in between Merlin and the door. The consort's fingers curling against his chest as he jerked himself back before the other man could grab onto him. "Are you out of your bloody mind about this?" And Arthur-with his back plastered against the door as if he thought Merlin was somehow going to try and plow him over so he could get through the doorway-looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody was going to come threw. He hadn't exactly been quiet, but perhaps the crowd was too loud and his voice had been drowned out. The sad part…Arthur couldn't even be relieved when no guard tried to emerge from the door to see what all of the noise and the racket was. Because he still had Merlin to deal with. "There is no reason for you to go in there and say anything. There is absolutely no reason for you to go in at all, but…you will not go to Madame Teresa either, will you?"

Even before Arthur had finished saying that, he knew that he was losing the battle. Merlin was a stubborn sod, and if he didn't want to go up those bloody stairs to see Madame Teresa, then he wouldn't. And Arthur hadn't managed to get him trained yet, or Merlin would have said 'yes, sire' and ran up the stairs with his shaking arse at his command. The only other option Arthur could see…wasn't really any option that he could use. Throwing Merlin onto his shoulder and carting him up there himself, tying him down into a chair and having Madame Teresa work her own version of magic…but it would be too much of a fight. The both of them would have ended up looking like a right sight, clothes torn and ripped in all of the wrong places, by the time they returned. And that would have only caused an additional scene if they were caught by the wrong person. Not to mention, Merlin could potential kill the both of them if he started kicking while the prince tried going up the two flights of stairs it would taken to get onto the next floor. Arthur was not going to get kicked down the stairs just because Merlin couldn't stop fidgeting along his shoulder.

"…If you think about it, there's no point is me going to see Madame Teresa at all. She's already done so much for me-" there was that stupid sarcasm of Merlin's again, making the prince grit his teeth as Merlin tugged on his shirt with anxious fingers. "By dressing me up. I shouldn't bother her with something as trivial as putting make up on me." Arthur wanted to snarl his teeth at the consort…no point? There's no point in seeing the best dresser in all of Camelot? There was no point in Merlin fixing himself up so that he could at least looked like he belong among the court? The clothes were only one part of the act! The face was just as good and as important as everything else was! So yes, thank you very fucking much. There was every point in Merlin going out of his way to get prepared properly. And hopefully abandon his ridiculous plan of ruining Arthur. "…I mean, it's only a matter of time before everybody you are trying to hide me from will see exactly what's going on with me." Merlin said as he was waving a hand up towards his face, gesturing towards all of the bruises. And Arthur had to resist tracing over them with his eyes…now was most definitely not the time for him to be getting overly involved in all of that again! "It's not as if you did any of this in private."

Arthur opened his mouth to start fussing at Merlin, before he stopped and shut his mouth when he realized…there was nothing he could fuss at Merlin for. Merlin wasn't wrong…he had smacked Merlin in the middle of a very public place and leaving dozens of witnesses behind. Arthur couldn't do one thing to actually hide that. Oh, sure. He could do whatever it was he had to do to delay the inevitable. But Arthur couldn't hide it forever. Sooner or later…his father was going to find out exactly what he had done. Arthur just preferred for it to be a lot later. Like say…after Mercia had continued on their way and left Camelot until the next meeting of kings several years from now. Literally the best thing he could've done for Merlin was hitting him in the face in public. Arthur could not exactly say Merlin was a liar without looking like one himself when so many people already knew the truth, and there was only a mater of time before it worked it's way up the rest of the castle. Arthur had literally just backed himself up into a corner of his own making. And there was no doubt about it…Merlin was going to be very pleased about this…Fuck! Could he have not thought of all of this before he ended up where he was? He couldn't have delayed disciplining his consort at least till Mercia had left? Once again, Arthur had allowed for his hot headed temper to take control of him…

"Why don't you lie about it!" Arthur exclaimed as loudly as he could, nearly startling himself as the suggestion blurted from his lips. It was clear by now that Merlin wasn't going to do the honorable thing and cover himself up. But he didn't need to tell the truth about it. If Merlin wanted to tell Uther all about what Arthur had done to him, then so be it. But the fallout could at least wait until Bayard and his men had left their kingdom behind. There was no reason to ruining these peace talks and dooming their people with less food come this winter just because Arthur hadn't been able to control or hold back his temper till a more proper time to unleash it upon the boy. "You have absolutely no idea how important it is for us to get this treaty. Bayard isn't going to want to do a dealing with us if he sees…" Arthur gazed meaningfully right at Merlin's bruises so he would understand exactly what the prince was trying to tell him. Merlin's fingers twitched down at his sides as if he was two seconds away from reaching up to touch along his own face and feel those bruises. The man was almost jealous that the boy got to touch on the bruises all he wanted, but again…there was no time for that. "…Can't you just tell people you fell down the stairs or something? At least until Bayard leaves with his men in a few days time?"

Arthur couldn't believe that he had been reduced to this…he could not understand how he had even gotten to this point at all. Arthur had been so convinced that everything would go alright, was convinced Merlin had at least learned a bit of his lesson and would make things easy for him. But then the consort had to speak and he was saying all the wrong things and Arthur was forced to reevaluate a few things. Because it was not at all how this event was supposed to go. The other boy was meant to defer to Arthur, not continuing to defy him at each and every turn. But this was where Arthur was at till he finally got his chance to properly train Merlin. And it was not as if he could start training Merlin here and now. All this was going to blow up in his face the second the people saw Merlin's markings, but he could just imagine how fast all the gossip fodder would spread if they were caught in the midst of a training session. If somebody walked out of the hall and caught Merlin with his pants tangled around his ankles, with the skirt of his shirt pushed up to bare his arse to the world at large. Could imagine the horrific face when they saw said boy was currently bent over Arthur's knee. Arthur's hand as red as Merlin's backside was from giving him his first proper spanking…yeah. Obviously, that was a scenario that was not ever going to happen.

But even Arthur knew the excuse suggestion he had given to Merlin was the stupidest lie to date. Fell down the stairs? It wouldn't be entirely unbelievable, if other people had also noticed how clumsy Merlin was. But hadn't Arthur thought a few moments ago about how lame that exact excuse was. It was the most cliche and overused excuse in the book. It was the kind of excuse that people gave the side eye too as they tried to figure out if it was the truth or a lie. But hey, at least Arthur hadn't suggested Merlin say he ran into a door. If the prince had ever heard of a worse overused excuse, it would have been that one. And not exactly one that happened with most people. But anyway, Arthur's horrible excuse could still work the crowd of noble's waiting for them. And just as long as none of the servants started paying less attention to their work and more attention to passing on the gossip…the ones in the noble population would be utterly clueless! Now, all it would take was getting Merlin on board with the plan.

Merlin, who scoffed at him as if he didn't care one wit about them or their treaty. And Arthur's jaw went tight, this familiar fire burning in his chest as he combated with the urge to go ahead and pop Merlin across the mouth for that one. These were his people to now! Merlin was his bloody consort! And the least he could do was install some confidence within his people and make them 'think' their own consort thought the people were worth keeping his mouth shut for a few days. If any of their people starved come winter, it would be entirely Merlin's fault! But…him hitting Merlin at the wrong moment had been exactly what had gotten them into this mess in the first place. And he couldn't exactly give Merlin 'fresh' marks and allow him to walk inside with a second and equally dark mark across the other side of his face. But honestly, Merlin had to be the most selfish person around if he didn't care a bit about the children who might end up perishing, because he was too concerned about getting his revenge against the prince.

Arthur only reacted when he saw Merlin trying to go around him to get back to the door, and the prince made sure that he was auctioned to the door, so there was no chance he'd be able to squeeze between them. "Are you really so selfish that you would allow Camelot to starve? Are you really going to look people in the eye and tell them it's not your problem if their children start to die. Just because you can't bite onto your tongue for a few simple days until all of this is over?"

It took Arthur a minute to register the look of surprise and confusion and shock on Merlin's face as he reeled himself back away from the door. And that in itself almost caught the prince by surprise. But now that he was thinking about it…had he really gone into detail about the treaty with Merlin yet? Arthur knew they had talked about it briefly before, but had he gone into detail? Had he explained to Merlin that the kingdom might be prosperous, they were always looking for ways to get added food to be put into their storage grains to help deal with the colder months. Had he explained that the kingdom did have emergency rations on the off chance that something happened, but did he explain that those rations were not enough to sustain an entire kingdom if things were to take a turn for the worse? Had he explained to the other about how Bayard had a massive army at his command, and having a peace treaty with the kingdom would come with an added bonus of having somebody to call on should Camelot be attacked directly. There were just so many things, and so many factors involved with this treaty, not even Arthur could say he remembered most of the details. But had he thought to give Merlin any-even if it was brief-summary on just how important this treaty was. It was most likely the only reason his father hadn't kicked Bayard out as soon as the other one had started bragging about his gay lover and how open the kingdom was towards things of that nature. But Arthur could see that not explaining in more detail, had clearly been a big oversight on his part. Especially if it was the only thing that would get Merlin to see reason.

"Merlin," Arthur said slowly, his brows wavering in the center of his forehead as he tried to get the right words together in his mind. "Camelot is a great and prosperous kingdom, and as its consort, you won't have anything to worry about. You will get fed. But what about the people on the outskirts who do not have the same access to food as we do? Who need it just as badly? As grand as this kingdom is, the land can only grow so much grain. And we are only able to feed the city if a day comes that we are unprepared for. Drought or flood or heaven forbid should a war break out. The added resources we can get from Bayard will be enough to see the outskirts themselves being properly taken care of. But-" Arthur made sure to lower his voice, trying to sound softer as he tried to manipulate the situation, make it sound worse then it would actually be to get Merlin's cooperation. If punching the boy was out of the question, then tricking him would be a better alternative. And he could see Merlin wavering, could see as something flickered behind the blues in his eyes…maybe he was finally getting through to him? "I suppose it might have been too much to ask for you to lie for me? Maybe attacking you wasn't the best response I could have had towards your …activities. But do not let my mistakes be the reason for my people to suffer."

All in all…this was a good speech. And perhaps something the consort would have fallen for, once upon a time. But the prince was forgetting one thing. Merlin KNEW exactly who and what Prince Arthur Pendragon was. He was starting to be able to pick out little tells when the prince was trying to lie to him, and Arthur was practically screaming all of them now. The way he was staring boldly into Merlin's eyes-as if he was trying to purposely keep them there because he just knew if he looked away, Merlin would know the truth. Or the way Arthur's voice had been smooth and soft and gentle, as if the prince thought he was trying to soothe some newborn deer who'd gotten separated from its mama and was now all lost in the woods. Arthur had NEVER been gentle with him in all of the days Merlin had known him. Not unless he wanted something from him. And let's not forget the way the prince had-at first-accused Merlin of wanting children to starve to death just because he wanted his truth be known before the prince could change things up to fit his own narrative. And since Merlin suspected he'd be dead long before this feast was over-as long as he continued pressing on every one of the buttons he knew Arthur had-there'd be no one else who could argue against Arthur's lies.

"…How dare you." Merlin said slowly, lowering his head so his bangs could fall into his face to shield his eyes into the shadows. Maybe it was just the depression talking, maybe it was the reason why he felt these bursts of sudden rage out of nowhere, that wanted to urge him to be combative toward anything that came his way. But whatever the reason, Merlin could feel his hands literally shaking at his sides because of how angry he was in that moment. Had Arthur just seriously tried to use starving children against him? Merlin HAD BEEN that starving child at some point. Sure, his mother had been sure he was fed before she was. But there had still been far too little precious food to go around. And Merlin had slipped off into sleep with his little tummy still rumbling because he had not gotten enough. Merlin knew the pangs of hunger as if it was an old friend. Knew the aches of an empty stomach as it screamed for you to stop working in the sun and find a morsel to sneak between your lips before getting caught by the one in charge of food distribution. He knew what it felt like to wonder rather or not his stomach was finally going to try eating itself because there was nothing left. Merlin was able to feel those same faint pangs even now, but that was more through choice, then just not having the food available to him. And then here comes Arthur, who had gotten at least three square meals everyday since he was born, was going to use 'starving children' on him. Mother fucking, arrogance, a complete and utter…toe rag! "How dare you go and try to use that on me! Starving children, really Arthur? That's your big ploy here! Using starvation as a tool against me. You've got some real fucking nerve! I literally cannot even believe you right now! Can't you just be a man and say whatever it is you want. Or accept that I am going to do my own things. If you don't want people to know what you did, then maybe you shouldn't have done it! But starving children? That has got to be a serious new low, even for you, Arthur!"

All Arthur wanted to do was somehow convince Merlin to do him a favor, but it seemed as if that wasn't going to happen, if Merlin's extreme reaction was to go by. But how would the prince have known Merlin was going to get so furious about starving children. Merlin should have been grateful! He had made sure to point out that the boy wouldn't be starving on the streets even if their food supply did dwindle. It would be common knowledge, as far as the prince was concerned, for the royal family to get the first portion of food. It would have been quite the conundrum for them to be expected to figure out how to fix the food problem, and still be left starving just as badly as the commoners were. But this little scenario was hardly the issue, and Arthur felt the surge of panic shooting through his body when Merlin once again tried to go around him to get to the door.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" Arthur blurted out, stretching out his arms wide across the door as if he was trying to become the human barricade that would stop him from busting down the doors. It was more clearer then ever-but perhaps only to the prince, as he watched Merlin take a small step back and eye him with a weary disposition-just how far the mighty Prince had fallen. Merlin should have been the one begging, on his knees and sobbing begging, not Arthur. Arthur shouldn't be the one begging Merlin to do him this one simply favor. The boy should have been begging him to not…to not…to not do something completely outrageous when they walked inside the grand hall. Perhaps entangling his arm around the other boy's waist? Keeping Merlin plastered against his side for as long as he could keep him. Possessive and firm and it would be an obvious warning to any inside who might have already laid with his consort, that the boy would no longer be ready for the market of lustful men. Wrapping an arm around your own husband might seem mild, but when one considered a turbulent relationship like the one Arthur had with Merlin…it was quite the big deal. But Merlin was still staring at him, so Arthur needed to do something. He needed to say anything that would make it feel-as his eyes darted around the room frantically to come up with something, his mind feeling slow and strangely dumb when he connected with the bluest hue of Merlin's eyes-as if he wasn't losing control here, "…I think the least you can do is apologize to me!"

Arthur watched as Merlin blinked dumbly, mouthing a slow and dumbstruck 'excuse me' to himself, as if he wasn't able to quite understand what the prince was talking about. But Arthur latched onto the idea of an apology as if it was but a tiny piece of driftwood in the middle of the ocean, and was the only lifeboat Arthur had after being thrown down to the unforgiving seas. If Merlin was really going to walk into that room and risk the treaty, just because he was furious about the very reasonable way Arthur had handled finding out his consort was a whore, then the least he could do was give an apology to Arthur. Apologize for being nothing more then a dirty little slut who was more concerned about what he had going on between his legs, then he was for the security and safety of their people. And besides…there would come two extra bonuses for Arthur if he could hear an apology exit the consort's lips.

One, he could rub Merlin's apology straight into the face of Lady Morgana. She could hardly try throwing another fit at him if Merlin apologized. Apologizing would pretty much be an actual admittance of guilt. An acknowledgement that he had done wrong and would now strive to correct himself, for the prince had made it clear that being a whore was the one thing he was not going to tolerate. And two…Arthur wouldn't feel as if he had lost this argument if he just allowed the boy to walk into that room. If Merlin apologized, then it would be because he was listening to him. Leaving Arthur once again the one in control. Instead of being the weak willed man that could not control to his husband as he trailed after the other boy. Yes…an apology would be the perfect substitute that'd soothe Arthur's fragile male ego. And he was determined to get one before his father came wondering out once again to demand to know what was taking him so long.

"You were just fussing at me about how I needed to just say what I want you to do." Arthur demanded in a cock sure kind of tone that immediately set Merlin's teeth on edge, the man placing his hands on his hips as he sneered down at the boy in front of him. "Well, what I want is an apology. After all you have put me through today, don't you think it's the least that I deserve. It's been nearly…what? Two hours since I've gone and discovered what you like to do in your free time. And in that time, I have not heard a single word that would prove to me your actually bloody sorry about what you did. So yes…I want an apology before you go in there and completely ruin everything!"

But if Arthur expected for Merlin to start spewing apologies after apologies at him…he was sorely mistaken. In fact, the consort did not say anything for a long moment as he slowly slid his eyes down to their feet. Arthur wanted him…the man wanted HIM to be the one to apologize. Well…where the hell was Merlin's apology? His face was still achingly sore, and it was very likely he'd have many nightmares to come about all of this. And yet…Arthur expected Merlin to say 'I'm sorry' to him. What kind of monster…smacked somebody else around and then expected an apology for it? Merlin almost couldn't believe Arthur had managed to get those words out with his face as straight as it was. If Merlin didn't know Arthur didn't have a single joking bone in his body, he would've expected for Arthur to start laughing and admitting it was a joke done in rather poor taste. For Merlin had never heard of anything so ridiculous in all his life. And Merlin had heard of plenty of ridiculous things since he'd arrived in Camelot. But this had to take the cake, and the cherry too.

The sad part…perhaps if Merlin hadn't already decided that getting killed off would be the only way he could escape this never ending nightmare, maybe he would have actually went ahead and done it. If only to keep the peace and keep down his head, agreeing with anything and everything Arthur had to say, as long as it stopped him from attacking him again. It had been a long day though, and Merlin was so tired-a kind of tired that no amount of sleeping would have been able to cure him-and Merlin could feel something stirring restlessly in his veins. Some kind of indignation, as his hand started to slowly close into a fist. His nails making increasingly familiar crescent moon markings into the thin skin of his palm. Fuck, fuck, fuck! As if there would ever come a day where he was the one that apologized to Arthur for 'making' him hit him….

"I'm so sorry." Merlin muttered through his clenched jaw, his voice coming out of him as if he'd just been punched right in the stomach. But Arthur barely noticed, straightening up off the door with this smug and cocky looking smile. Good, the prince thought pleased. He'd gotten Merlin exactly where he wanted him. Back underneath his thumb, being pressed into the ground until he deferred to Arthur in all matters. And the prince figured they could go inside now, more confident that Merlin was going to obey him now. If the consort was able to swallow his damn pride and apologize, then he would surely be able to tell everybody he had fallen down the damn stairs and that was how he'd gotten his markings. But as it turned out, Arthur had forgotten the one thing he'd acknowledged already. Merlin 'never' apologized without saying something sarcastically witty following behind him. So, maybe it should not have been a surprise when Arthur pushed himself off of the door, turned around to shove it open and march into the room feeling as if he had just won a tourney, and the smaller boy interrupted before Arthur could even press the palm of his hand up against the door. "I'm so sorry that you have so much of a violent temper, that it refuses to allow you to see more then two inches in front of your face. And maybe if you were able to see past your damn nose, you wouldn't spend so much of your time being angry!"

Arthur-with his back to Merlin and staring at the thick doors in front of him but not really seeing them either-felt as if this whoosh of air had just been taken from him. Not for the first time today, Arthur literally got his breath taken from him due to something Merlin had said. His shoulders started shaking due to the unprecedented amount of rage his body trying to overtake him. So much rage, if could've been enough for the prince to fuel a volcano into igniting. Sending lava into every direction, spewing down its rocky surface until it would take out the dozens of villages that rested beside the foot of the mountain.

Fucking Merlin…Arthur thought, as he struggled to get his rage back under control before he did something else that would end up digging his own grave…that absolute terror of a boy. This horrible, no good, awful little…SLUT! Had some real nerves of steel to go around claiming Arthur as the one who was always angry. And maybe it was true…Arthur was always angry. But could Merlin really be so blind as to not notice 'he' was the one that always made Arthur angry. The prince had never been like this before. Or he at least had far better control then he had nowadays. Enough control where he wouldn't go around attacking unarmed peasant…but the prince knew that sometimes…sometimes sluts got whatever they deserved. And Merlin was the biggest slut in all five of the great kingdoms. Stupid little thing, he could never shut the bloody hell up….whatever mood the prince had been in where he was eager to hear Merlin's defiance, had drained away long before now…

Maybe the only thing in the world that would shut Merlin up in a way a simple slap wouldn't, was having his mouth being otherwise occupied. That was probably Merlin's biggest and most pleasing attraction, as the prince doubted it would've been the consort's sparkling personality that attracted all of these men to him. Maybe if the boy had that blond stranger Arthur had been thinking about earlier, occupying his mouth so to speak, it would be much harder for Merlin to be such a cocky little thing. Arthur could only imagine it would've been hard for a man-even a slut of a man-to keep his pride strong when he had a much larger man shoving his cock straight in between his pillow soft lips. Merlin definitely needed to have somebody controlling him…and Arthur couldn't think of one thing that was more debasing then a man being forced onto his knees. More debasing then Merlin having to choke as he had spit rolling down the sides of his mouth, the mouth too small to properly accommodate the girth of that blond man as he forced Merlin to gag and sputter around the cock that was being force fed down his throat. Nothing could be more debasing-in Arthur's eyes-then hearing the solid 'thud thud thud' sound it would make as a cock rammed itself into the back of Merlin's throat. Leaving Merlin's throat a raw, aching mess by the time he was done being used as some kind of pleasure sleeve. Meant to give, but never meant to receive the same attention on his own neither regions…

But Arthur figured that would hardly be a punishment. Sluts wouldn't be sluts if they didn't like getting onto their knees for the whims of other men.

But Arthur couldn't allow Merlin to get away with speaking to him like that. If Arthur ignored it this one time, then the consort would probably only get worse if Arthur didn't keep reinforcing how he should be spoken too. Merlin struck him as one of those people who, if you give them an inch, they'll try to take a mile. So, swallowing back the string of loud and violent curses that the consort had somehow taught him the last few months he'd been here, the prince forced himself to wear this pleasant grin. One that looked more shark-like and looked more like it was more then willing to take a nibble out of any toes that happened to have wondered too far into his home territory. A smile that would hopefully entice the other boy into doing the right thing, because see! Arthur could be nice! And he could be pleasant! And Arthur could get things done in a way Merlin Pendragon bloody well couldn't! But as the prince turned around, and saw Merlin slowly inching his way back a few inches, and opened up his mouth to say far more charming things then the anger would've allowed him to say, "Arthur?"

Arthur stopped-his mouth still wide opened though no more words were escaping him-and blinked a few times to try and understand what had just happened. And exactly, when had his voice gone from the rough gruffness of a man who lived through puberty already, transformed itself into the far more higher pitched voice that had came from him. And when had his voice turned to something more…accented…fuck no, the prince thought as he closed his mouth back with an audible clink of teeth against teeth. He felt as if he had just been hit by a carriage, one carrying enough cargo to hold ten people over for a year or more, when he realized that voice had not came from him after all.

"What on earth are you doing out here. I would have thought you'd be the center of the party, taking the world by storm as you show those Mercia men just how good of a kingdom Camelot is." Lady Clarissa, niece of one of the greatest men and generals to have ever came out of Camelot, approached Arthur. Appearing by his side faster then he could've blinked an eye, smiling at him with smug satisfaction as she stood in between himself and his consort so smoothly, Arthur didn't know for sure rather or not she had even seen Arthur having a 'deep and meaningful and clearly private' moment with his consort. But the lady hardly seemed to care-if the lady even knew she was interrupting-as she reached out and placed a hand boldly on the crook of his arm. "But I suppose with all of the chaos going on inside, it only makes sense for even a prince to need a break. Which I think is quite admirable, as it makes you seem more human. Instead of being some larger then life inflatable being that cannot talk to us…little people, my prince."

Arthur fought back a wince at the mere suggestion that he-the bloody prince of Camelot-needed to do something that resembled 'taking a break.' But he supposed that was what he got for having this conversation with Merlin in the middle of the hall instead of taking him to one of the many standing rooms that were empty and up for the taking, where nobody would be able to interrupt them or encroach on them. But it was definitely his fault that Clarissa was freely touching him right now (he'd clearly given her the wrong impression when he tried using her for pleasure as a means to be distracted from his problems last month) as her purple colored talons scratched the insides of his elbow in a way that was meant to be sensual. But it only made Arthur feel more coiled up then the springs currently living inside of his mattress. He most definitely did not have the time to entertain a lady, as it could not have been any worse of a moment for Clarissa to approach him then now. With all the purple lilac folds of her dress, sheer in places that would have been borderline inappropriate to attract male attention to her, but only made her look like an eyesore to Arthur. But perhaps that was only because Merlin-the very last person the prince would have thought could have tricked him-was now making Arthur re-examine what he knew about other people in his life.

"Yes, well…the life of a prince is quite stressful so I suppose I must take what little time I'm able to for myself whenever I can see the opportunity." Arthur said, with a smile that felt a bit too forceful and far more charmingly then the shark-like smile he'd been trying to give Merlin moments before. More professional and cheap, the kind of smile a prince gave out when they wanted to be anywhere but there. Since the lady was looking up at him through the dark clumps she called her eyelashes-Arthur wondered if Clarissa realized Merlin's were longer and prettier then her own and definitely didn't need all that eye makeup to attract Arthur's attention. Her greens were nothing when compared to the darkness the prince knew swirled intimately through Merlin's-and it would hardly be gentlemanly of Arthur to argue against the words of a lady. As she was clearly waiting for Arthur-and the man was able to vaguely note Clarissa had a friend waiting close by for her, a young thing dressed in bright orange that most definitely looked tacky with her dark skin as she tapped her foot impatiently-to assure her that she was most definitely not included in one of the 'little people' a prince should not have the time to converse with. "But I'll always make time to speak to those who call for me. But M'Lady, why don't you go on inside and find yourself a seat, We wouldn't want you to be forced to sit in the back simply because you wanted to talk to me."

Arthur made sure to inject as much graciousness as he was able to into his voice. Even as he gestured towards the door in his attempt to hurry her away from him. Being the perfect prince who would allow the lady to walk in ahead of him. But Arthur Pendragon had absolutely no intentions of following the lady inside. Not when he wasn't nearly as done with the consort as he wished he was. But Lady Clarissa pursed her lips, following his gesture towards the closed doors…Arthur had clearly displeased her in some way. And usually, that is the moment Arthur would tried correcting this, not wanting to leave a noblewoman with a bad impression of him. There wasn't any telling how important a lady's brother…father…or son could become to the crown later on. But Arthur believed this was the first time in a long time, that he couldn't bring himself to entertain a lady. No…his interest was sorely, laser focused on a certain dark haired boy standing behind Lady Clarissa.

And speaking of dark haired boy's, Arthur allowed his eyes to glance up-just a peek out the corner of his eyes, though he was sure Clarissa thought he was still making small talk with her-to try and catch Merlin's eyes. To impress onto the other boy that their conversation wasn't done. Not until the consort agreed the only thing he should do was lie about his markings until he was blue in the face. The kind of look that would have made grown men stuttering in their steps before doing whatever they could to please him. The expression he used on his knights when he was speaking of how important their role in Camelot was once they passed his training. And if they were there for fun and games, they should leave. The prince had no patience for people only there because it was what was expected of them, rather then being there to carry on the strong traditions of Camelot. But the effect would be entirely lost on Merlin, as the consort wasn't looking back at him…

"…Maybe you could escort a lady inside?" Clarissa tried to ask him, her voice sounding very far away from Arthur, the lady apparently not noticing Arthur's waning attention. Nor the subtle frown forming on the corner of his lips from the lack of attention Merlin was giving him. Arthur's eyebrows were starting to pinch together…why was Merlin looking at Lady Clarissa like that? The consort had this extremely odd expression on his face. Arthur wouldn't have said he looked scared, but…Merlin was definitely freaked out. Arthur could feel his frown tugging a little more prominently…what was it about Lady Clarissa that had Merlin so freaked out. It wasn't as if Lady Clarissa could do anything worse to the other boy then Arthur had planned-and had already done. So why…the reason seemed to hit him like a bolt of lightning, as the lady squeezed his elbow, leaning into him to try pressing her full breasts against his side. "Isn't there some kind of unspoken rule about not allowing a woman to enter a party by herself? It would be quite embarrassing for there to be a gentlemen in front of me who would allow such a thing. Would you not agree with me, Prince Arthur?"

There was no unspoken rule about that, or at least not one Arthur had heard of. But if there was, the prince would have assumed it was meant for single gentlemen so a woman did not have to face the embarrassment of showing up alone. It most definitely would not have included married men, one's who had their husband watching this entire exchange. But it was not something Arthur called Clarissa out on. In fact, the prince turned his full attention onto her-wanting desperately to feel the hot sting of Merlin glaring at him, though the boy hardly seemed to notice what Arthur was doing, far too busy staring Clarissa down-and turned on the charm as he forced himself to relax beneath the uncomfortably tight squeeze on his arm. And forced himself to ignore the way she continued calling him 'Prince Arthur' instead of just plain Arthur, as his consort insisted on doing no matter how many times he may have protested about it in the past.

"Ah, I would absolutely love to attend this banquet with such a beautiful woman accompanying me to the feast." Said the prince, as if this topic of conversation wasn't something that was entirely inappropriate for a married man to have. But as Clarissa's smug smile grew into something that was looking far too pleased about causing a possible split right between a married couple, the prince made sure to allow their silence to linger in the air between them. Arthur was giving Merlin a chance here…he was half expecting for the boy to jump into some kind of jealous rage. To perhaps start yelling or raging at Lady Clarissa-he would have to do damage control, but it would be worth it to see the jealousy etched across his little brat's face-as he forced himself between him and the young lady. Perhaps he would even snatch Arthur's arm away from the talons of Lady Clarissa, and drag it until it was snugly fit between Merlin's non-existent breasts. The consort holding onto it tighter then an octopus as he glared daggers at Lady Clarissa…it would do a man's ego good, seeing such a harsh reaction coming from his consort. Because obviously, there was only one reason for Merlin's dead eye stare on Clarissa. He was clearly upset, and probably thinking Arthur would be the one disappearing at some point during the banquet, just for a little alone time with the fair maiden. It wasn't exactly a large leap for Arthur to come to this conclusion, since Merlin had already shown him just this morning that he was still all bitter and upset about finding Clarissa in his rooms that one time. He'd been calling Clarissa his girlfriend and everything so he honestly should have seen this jealously coming from a mile away. "But unfortunately, I do feel as if I have no other choice then to decline. I will be inside momentarily but there are a few things I must attend to first. This event happens to be the very first banquet Consort Merlin has attended. So I'll be quite sure a Lady such as yourself, understands why I am unable to leave him behind. It's my duty as a husband, to be sure my consort doesn't become overwhelmed, you see."

Hmm, Arthur thought in the back of his mind, as he glanced back over the top of Clarissa's head, as this disquiet energy formed in the pit of his stomach. Merlin hadn't moved in any way. He hadn't came forward. His face hadn't twisted until it was an ugly expression of pure jealousy. Merlin hadn't even done so much as acknowledge Clarissa's obvious attempts at inappropriate flirting. Arthur would have thought the boy would have done 'something' to express his displeasure at Arthur for not chasing Clarissa off the second she showed up. But perhaps it just wasn't Merlin's style, to show such an obvious display of jealousy? Maybe Merlin was more of the type to stew in his agitation silently-a strange thought for a boy such as Merlin. Hell, it made more sense to think of the boy as the type who would try to get revenge…perhaps the boy wanted to plan out a way that would include the prince walking in on him and one of his 'many' lovers. Just to show Arthur he had his own collection of men, just as Arthur only had Clarissa. Frowning, he gave Merlin the stink eye. As if he was half expecting for the consort to turn around, undo his pants, and allow gravity to take then to the floor before bending over. A clear invitation to the first man who walked out the grand hall and stumbled upon their little group of four.

"Ah, yes. I think I understand exactly what you mean, Prince Arthur. I had quite the time when I attended my own feast at the ripe old age of fifteen, when my parents finally deemed me old enough to attend such things without embarrassing them." Lady Clarissa said, with this false pitying expression on her face, clearly believing Arthur would have to do much with his consort to prevent any embarrassments. Which was not wrong, but did Clarissa really have to point out just how incompetent his consort was? But Lady Clarissa's accented voice had thickened greatly at her exclamation, until Arthur could barely understand it. Vaguely, the prince noted as he tore his eyes away from Merlin and back to the Lady in front of him, that Merlin's own country bumpkin accent had never gone so thick Arthur couldn't understand him. Even if Merlin was mad and screaming curse words at him, had the prince not been able to understand exactly whatever it was Merlin was fussing about that time. "But my prince, this is a very important event. And you don't want to be stuck just playing babysitter the entire night. Surely you wish you could be a more active participant with this banquet. I know you would like to make quite an impression on Bayard before he leaves for Mercia, yes?

It was only because of Arthur's intense training with dealing with matters of the court, that stopped him from showing a sour expression to the lady. While yes, Arthur knew he had to make some kind of impression on Bayard-one that would paint him as a strong future king Bayard would want to do all their business dealings with, and not as the abuser his little brat seemed insisted on him being-but it was also the very last thing he wanted to do. Arthur would have preferred just being on his horse, riding off through the forest with nobody to disturb him. Just him, his crossbow, his horse, and what poor animal happened to cross his path at the wrong time of day. And maybe Merlin as well, riding alongside the back of his horse, arms unfortunately tucked around Arthur's middle so he would not fall off. It would not do for Arthur to ride off into the forest, and return hours later to find out Merlin had done did something Arthur would need to fix. So, he would clearly have to come with Arthur to prevent such things...

"I am quite sure that my friend won't mind keeping company with your consort. If you would like to be around pleasurable company, I'd be more then happy to be that company." Lady Clarissa said, with a fox like smile as she waved two fingers towards her orange clad-seriously, who wore such a bright and voluminous feather sticking out of their bun? The style was horribly out of fashion nowadays-companion. Clarissa seemed pleased with her bold suggestion, making the blond frown more acutely. Could Clarissa really not get the hint? It should have been obvious to a lady, that Arthur couldn't soil his reputation by walking in with her. Arthur wanted to make a 'good' impression on Bayard. And walking anywhere, with anybody other then his consort on his arm, would paint the prince as an adulterer. Nobody wanted to make any kind of business dealing with somebody who flaunted himself as a cheater in front of everybody else. In fact, Arthur may have thrown Merlin being a cheater in Bayard's face, if the other man hadn't seemed to take some kind of horrible liking with the other boy. "I'm quite sure I can keep your father busy as you sidle up to King Bayard and chat him up. But if you want to keep an eye on your consort, I am sure he and my friend can find a seat nearby. Just so you know he hasn't gone too far, my prince."

Clarissa made this sound as if that was a grand idea, but the prince couldn't see how it was a grand anything. Forgetting how it was expected for Arthur to walk in with Merlin holding onto his arm…the prince actually wanted the boy to take his proper seat beside him. Not only would it end up being a bit disconcerting to see dark skin and perfect blond locks down a long length of back, instead of pale skin and dark hair that stuck out in every direction… he could hardly correct Brat if he was sitting on the other side of the room. Merlin needed to be beside him, close enough for Arthur to touch, or close enough for Arthur to hiss instructions into his ear. Not so far away, being forced to make small talk with the orange clad girl, while Arthur was struggling the entire meal. It would be extremely hard for Arthur to resist shoving Clarissa from his consort's chair, and dragging Merlin back to where it was he belonged. But…an unsettling thought trickled into the deep recesses of his mind…had Clarissa always sounded as if she was this desperate? Or was that just a new development. He could not remember Lady Clarissa behaving as if…as if she's the wonton little whore instead of his consort.

Arthur gruffly cleared his throat, and banished those horrid thoughts from his mind. Merlin must have really done quite the number on his head, if he was starting to see whores in everyone he looked at. It was a sad day when Arthur would see a lady of the court, and assume she was just as bad as Merlin was. But…when Arthur opened his mouth to give the lady yet another excuse-more firmer this time, since it was obvious she wasn't getting the hints he'd been putting down for her-he was interrupted by a loud scoff. Arthur stopped…and he blinked…and he turned to look at the orange girl who had made such a disrespectful sound. And Arthur could not ignore the heated glare she was sending in the direction of his consort, as if the boy-who had not even looked towards her once during this entire exchange, as far as he'd noticed-had caused some great travesty towards her.

Arthur's spine went stiffer, and the prince narrowed his eyes onto her sharply. Yes, Merlin was a whore. But what right did the girl-some daughter of some lesser noble Arthur couldn't bother to remember, he assumed-have to look at his idiot in such a manner. ARTHUR was the only one who got to show his displeasure with the boy. Not Clarissa, who wanted him all to herself. Not this little girl, who looked as if she'd barely pass for seventeen, a mere child in the eyes of the prince. It was ARTHUR who got to show those dismissive or scornful looks at Merlin. It was ARTHUR who got to sneer at the boy whenever he'd done something particularly unpleasant. So, just who was this little girl, who thought she could get away with showing such blatant disrespect towards his consort?