Merlin Pendragon did not think he had ever wished death on someone in his entire life. No matter what had happened to him, or what he had seen growing up…he had never wished death onto someone. He hadn't wished death on the groups of bandits that occasionally raided their village and stole the food. He simply rolled his sleeves up and got to work for the next planting season. He hadn't wished death on the nobles and royals who made the laws and made it illegal for Merlin, a sorcerer, to be alive. He hadn't even wished death onto all of the people who'd scorned him over these last few months until Merlin was just walking around like this little wisp of a ghost just trying to find his way.

And then Cara had gone and said he couldn't possibly wish death on Arthur Bloody Pendragon…

And Merlin wished his initial response had been to tell Cara 'no!' Of course he didn't wish death on his husband. Why in the world would Merlin want to wish death on somebody he was married too? So what if that same partner was the sole reason for everybody else deciding to treat him like shit, as they took their cues by how Arthur treated him. Or marched around the place as he looked down his nose at Merlin as if he was a flea and he didn't know how to get rid of him. The same partner who shook him roughly in the middle of those people. Ripped up the letter he wrote to his mother. Thrown him to the ground and disfigured his face in just a matter of seconds. Called him a whore several times but 'defended' him when somebody else did. The same parter who rubbed on Merlin's leg, as if he had any right to start up all of those unwanted touches again…escalating to something far more confusing then just pinning him down.

So Merlin would ask again…why would he wish death on his partner?

"…Cara. I need you to focus. I know you don't want to say it out loud, but you came to me for a reason. And that reason is why we are still standing here and have yet to walk off in separate directions. I trusted you enough to come out here when there are people probably waiting for me." Merlin said softly, his eyes earnest and true, trying to make Cara see…if she had came to him then she needed to trust him. But the consort kept quiet about Arthur, knowing there was a very good chance he would spill. His mouth spewing the words as if they were vomit until he laid every single flaw or event or travesty Arthur had caused him in these few months. But Merlin supposed he should've been grateful Cara didn't try asking if 'he' wanted to die…this conversation may've gone in a vastly different direction. But Merlin was pretty sure the serving girl noticed him not answering her question, as she arched an eyebrow at him. But Merlin steamrolled ahead of her…before she could ask him about it, "Do I really need to ask you again, what did Bayard do to the goblet?"

Merlin saw Cara opening her mouth, but instead of words coming out, there was a jingling sound of glass. Both Cara and Merlin snapped their heads to the side, and they saw a serving boy carrying a tray full of dirty dishes, walking off in the direction of the kitchens, whistling this cherry little tune under his breath. The serving boy hadn't seen them, as they stood in a side hallway. But the whistling tune seemed to be echoing back towards them…cherry it might've been, but to Merlin, in this moment…it sounded mighty eerie. Like it was a song of death, a tune Merlin would hear in the recesses of his mind on his dying day, trying to carry him off to anyplace pass the veil of death that welcomed sorcerers. It caused an untoward tension between him and Cara, this reminder that neither of them were safe. Not here, where it wasn't nearly as private as they would've liked. And not inside the Grand Hall, where dozens of witnesses sat. But they waited, until it was a tune neither of them heard any longer, the boy going out of hearing range.

Merlin didn't know if it'd been his encouragement that had prompted Cara into speaking. Or if it was because of that boy and what he represented…the walls had ears. And any number of them could've been listening in, trying to flesh out why Camelot's Consort was having a private meeting with a serving girl from Mercia. And those very same ears might be misguided enough to rush straight to Bayard, and warn him that something was going on. Which would either promote him into acting hastily and speeding up whatever he was doing. Or would make him draw back so Merlin and Cara looked like the crazy ones if they confronted him about it. But either way…Cara finally spoke out against her king.

"I saw him doing something to it!" Cara admitted, but it was the tears that spoke to Merlin. There were tears glimmering in her eyes…she was probably feeling like a betrayer to all of her people for this. But as she had spoke to him earlier, she did not want to see other people die because of one simple king and his greed for more power then he already had. The sorcerer knew how she was feeling…he wanted to cry some as well. This new wound on his soul was raw and torn open, as if he had bits of flesh dangling out of his chest cavity and just waiting for Bayard to jerk on it some more. Hated as the prince was…Merlin could at least admit Arthur had not once lied to him. He told Merlin how much he hated him from that first day. Unlike Bayard…stringing him along like a fool until he got the kingdom under his thumb. Merlin wanted to be a bit vengeful though…he already had Arthur to deal with. He did not need a second royal trying to ease into his place as the worse man alive. "He was slipping something inside of it and…and…"

Cara shook her head as her stuttering died off, looking as if she was starting to doubt herself once again. Doubt telling the truth? And what good it would do other then dragging Merlin into her problems. Or doubt that Merlin would be able to do anything to stop it from happening. But…with the flesh of his soul being ripped apart by somebody else who was in no way related to him. And in no way connected to him with a bond as sacred as marriage was supposed to be. Came a thirst for 'actual' vengeance. If all Cara had said to him was true-about how he wanted to leave Merlin as the last man to be standing because he didn't know how to do things-then it meant Bayard had targeted him as the weakest link. And a weak link…was somebody Merlin didn't want to be. Not for a foreigner who thought he could come to this kingdom under the pretense of peace. Merlin could deal with the people of this kingdom treating him like scum. But not Bayard. Not a stranger who hadn't even met him before deciding to write him off as a real threat and used him instead.

"What, Cara?" Merlin demanded in a heated tone more force coming out of his voice then he meant too. Cara seemed to flinch because of it, and Merlin wanted to feel bad about all of this. Because how many times had Arthur caused Merlin to flinch for one reason or the other. And there was an upset in his stomach telling him he should apologize. But he didn't do that. Not now. Not when there were lives on the line. Not when…Merlin was determined to be anything other then just the 'weak link.' "Tell me now, Cara. What did Bayard do with that bloody goblet?"

The possibilities of what Bayard could've done to the cup was almost infinite. With too many choices for Merlin to try even guessing at. Perhaps Merlin was simply overreacting and Cara was making things sound far worse then they were actually. Maybe Bayard had done something like…dropping a bit of his sweat into the bottom of the goblet. Mixing into the wine as it was poured inside. That was definitely gross but it was hardly something that would cause anybody any lasting damage. Or maybe Bayard had done something that was even more sinister, like dripping a few drops of his own blood into the rounded cup. That was the nuclear option, as it was the worse thing Merlin could think of. The blood might have been meant as part of a spell…and blood magic Merlin knew was a dangerous and dark art. Often requiring human sacrifices for it to be successful. But…Bayard, as far as the consort could tell…was no sorcerer.

Which left the most obvious answer…

"Please, don't make me!" Cara practically shrieked, looking as if she was about to fall through the floor. Her doubt and her fear and her sense of self preservation hitting an all time high. Eyes practically pleading with Merlin to let her go and just pretend none of this had happened. But Merlin had not been the one that had started all of this. He hadn't been the one to bring himself into it. That was all Cara. And Cara had to be the one to finish it. Or allow that bastard to win and his greed be satisfied once Camelot was under his thumb, "The king will literally kill me! I will be dead and gone and nobody will even know my name or what I had done to deserve such a fate. Please…Consort Merlin…"

Cara bent over forward, wrapping her hands tightly around herself as if she was about to fall into sobs. And any other time, Merlin might have tried comforting her. Doing the one thing he wished somebody could do to him whenever he got in one of his 'low' moods. But Merlin only had left one single minute and thirty three seconds before Arthur stormed after him. One minute and thirty seconds before Arthur ruined all the bravery Cara had by coming forward. And dismissing all her words in favor of giving the other king the benefit of the doubt. Refusing to make waves because of the king's so call promise of peace. Merlin had already tried being gentle, and telling Cara to trust him. He'll protect her. But easing the girl into it was only wasting time. Time in which Arthur could be drinking from his goblet. Arthur could already be dead for all he knew. But…sometimes a bit of tough love was needed for the right answers.

"Cara, tell me now!" Merlin exclaimed loudly, the intensity of his eyes making Cara whimper and shake. But Merlin knew it was going to be okay. Knew she was going to make it out of this even if it didn't seem like it now. A girl brave enough to come forward in the first place…was a peasant far braver and stronger then even the mightiest knight. Peasants dealt with far more strive then any of those nobles would ever know. And that was why peasants would be underestimated. Their strength weakened by their own positions in life, but unstoppable if they managed to band together. Merlin had forgotten that. Or perhaps he hardly knew of it, coming from a village as small as Ealdor. "Tell me …did Bayard poison that goblet? Is Arthur drinking a cup of death if I do not stop him?"

There was a moment of silence where Cara only stared at him, blinking her teary blue eyes. But Merlin's long dead fire was starting to ignite and spread, only the beginnings of an inferno about to burn brightly against the stranger who had lied to him. But…it was as his serving friend Mary had told to him just that morning…servants were the ears and eyes of a kingdom. The ones that walked about unseen, which would allow them to see everything. If one wanted to know any of the deepest and darkest secrets of a noble…all one needed to do was ask their servant. And with a wavering breath as it questioning rather or not this was the right move but having no real answer…Cara nodded. Finally confirming what Merlin had been thinking. And proving herself as one of the unseen servants. A position of pride. If one knew how to wield all of that information correctly.

For a few heartbeats, neither one of them moved.

Poison, Merlin thought.

Poison…one minute and eight seconds.

Poison…one minute and five seconds.

Poison…one minute and two seconds.

And for a second, Merlin wavered on the spot. He should've turned immediately and raced as fast as he could back the way they'd come. So he could throw open the grand doors and jump Arthur, dragging away the cup that'd been sitting so innocently on the edge of the table when he'd left. Merlin should have been righteous and strong and defiant when he was being faced with tyranny. Just as he has been when it'd been Gwen's life on the line. But for another heartbeat…the consort's feet may as well have been glued onto the floor to prevent him from leaving. It would be so easy to just stand here and wait out the clock. Pretend he had been told about the poison too late. Go bursting through the doors only after Arthur had drunk it.

Merlin's chest felt tight. And he just knew he was going to be sick again.

Arthur deserved to die. Brutal and painstakingly after all he had put Merlin through. But not like this. Not with the Blue King pulling at the strings and controlling the outcome from the background. If Merlin allowed Arthur to die…he'd be no better then all those dozens of people who'd sat back in this passive manner as Arthur slapped him across the face. He'd be…a murderer by association for not stopping it when he'd known it was coming. Merlin…Merlin should be the one that held the blade as he let his rage out and gutted the prince for turning him into this sad version of herself. And Bayard was trying to take that away from him.

Merlin was also meant to die first. Meant to take his own life as a final fuck you to Arthur. Show he was brave enough by taking the coward's way out in his attempt to escape all of this. And again…Bayard was trying to take Merlin's death out of his hands. How was Merlin going to die by Arthur's hands if Bayard got to him first? Fuck…fuck…fuck. The world really was not fair. And Merlin was gonna have to do the one thing he knew never turned out well. He needed to convince this bloody prince that he was about to die…he would have to try and convince Arthur to trust him one more time. Fight with a bloody iron grip to be heard by the self-centered arrogantly cocky prince who refused to hear anything he didn't want to hear.

Just one more time, Merlin swore on his future deathbed.

One more time…

Like when he convinced Arthur Valiant was using magic.

Just one more time…

Like when he'd convinced Arthur there was a monster in the water supply.

Just one more time…

Where Merlin tried convincing Arthur he wasn't dating other men and failed because he was too strung out and tired to fight back properly.

Would he fail this one?

Probably.

But he had to try, right?

For his own sanity.

This surge of possessiveness and outage almost overtook his body…if anybody was going to die here tonight, then it was going to be him. Arthur had already taken so much out of him. Taken his life and his freedom and his choice and he had even tried taking Merlin's anatomy. But Arthur and all of that stubborn nature that refused to allow the prince to just allow himself to believe Merlin at his word was a force much stronger than anything Merlin had even known.

Which meant Merlin had to be stronger.

Because he would be damned if Arthur also took Merlin's death from him.

Without sparing another glance at Cara, Merlin turned on his heel and started running as fast as he could back down the hall. Knowing he had to get there before he was too late and lost Arthur completely. If only he turned back, he would have seen the calculating and downright humorous smirk on Cara's face. Maybe he would've had a couple of more things to ask this 'brave peasant.'

Fifty-Four seconds to go.

X

Only a true psychopath would smirk at what she was doing, but Nimueh cared not for such titles. Psychopath or not, she had every right to be pleased when seeing her plan coming together. She had pushed Merlin directly where she wanted him to be. And now the only reason she needed to stay was to make sure Merlin drunk the poison. She already had her horse tied up out back. Her escape would be easy amongst the chaos as everybody raced around in a panic to try and find out what was wrong with their unwanted consort. But it was only a matter of time…before Merlin became hers.

He would have to suffer for a bit with the effects of what the poison did to him. But what was a little suffering, when her little power box would spend the unforeseeable future next to her. Nimueh actually thought it was a decent trade off. No person weak enough to submit to the poison deserved to be standing by herself. But somebody strong enough to fight it off long enough to receive the cure, why…that was the true test of power. One Nimueh fully intended on exploiting once this power became entangled with her own. Soon, Nimueh had to promise herself. So she wouldn't kidnap Merlin and steal him away from all of this on the back of her horse. Her little power god wouldn't trust her if he didn't leave willingly.

And speaking of power…Nimueh was almost regretful she'd not be able to stay longer. She had only felt a few sparks of magic coming off the boy when his emotions had sparked a bit higher…such an amateur he was. Allowing for his magic to lash out and snap in the most redundant of ways with his emotions. That was what a child did when they first learned how to levitate something. But perhaps Nimueh could earn this power god's loyalty by luring him away with the promise of teaching him properly. A single spell book wasn't able to replace a proper teacher, after all. And then once she finally managed to probe that magic into a powerful force all of its own…she could finally bathe in it like she wanted.

Just her and that golden ray of light…

But poor stupid little Merlin…he had no idea what he'd been doing to himself by keeping his magic bound in chains and all suppressed like it was. She'd said it before and she'd say it again…magic was meant to be free. Uncontrollably. Magic should be a hurricane in the midst of the ocean. An inferno stronger and more powerful than any volcano. A tsunami strong and capable of desecrating entire villages. Powerful enough to make even the earth quiver beneath their feet, allowing for the true master of life and death to take control of the reins.

But if Merlin's magic could make her feel this aroused and tingling when she had only felt a fraction of it…

How would she feel after prying open all those chains and relishing in the full might of his glow. Would she quiver and give herself over to the god? Would she climb between his legs and suck the life force that was his magic straight out of him? Until the magic was in her belly, curling and warm and blinking in distress as it's master gave himself over to her fully.

How would she feel knowing she had literally conquered this god?

She didn't know. But she was so eager to find out. But…first things first. Making sure the god drunk that poison without anymore interference from herself.

X

Arthur Pendragon would just like to say…he had made a lot of changes in his life since Merlin had walked into it. For one thing, even whenever he had been avoiding Merlin, he would often find himself glancing over his shoulder to see if Merlin was nearby. Whenever Arthur had to go down to the training field to start another lesson with the new recruits, he always took the long way instead of the short cut he knew by heart. Oh, Arthur could claim he was doing it for the added little bit of exercise the walk gave him. Could even claim he was just trying to postpone the headache the new recruits gave him with their clumsy moves. But Arthur knew the truth…and he knew the long way led straight pass Gaius' chambers. It was always a waste though, as Arthur never came across Merlin as the boy was coming or going. He had even contemplating bursting into Gaius' chambers once just so he could see the kind of fit Merlin would thrown when Arthur entered his own room.

But he had ultimately decided against it.

There were other little things as well that Arthur had barely noticed at the time, but was startling clear now, as he was leaning back in his chair and casually tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair as Bayard continued rattling on. Things like…Arthur seeing a tuft of black hair out the corner of his eye only to realize it was some mutt walking by. Or the time he had looked up at the sky a few weeks ago and scoffed as the storm clouds filtered in, and briefly thinking about those eyes Merlin had. And how not even the sky could became a blue as dark as Merlin's had been. Or heaven forbid…every single night when he laid in bed trying to go to sleep, he had to fight the urge to go rifling through his bedside table. And finding that stupid red neckerchief of Merlin's he'd stolen as his own. He didn't even know why he bothered keeping that thing anymore. It was only taking up space. And being just as bothersome as it's owner was in its temptation to lure the prince over onto the dark side.

But Arthur would not be swayed into temptation.

He would not be swayed into pulling out that neckerchief just so he could take a big whiff of it like he had the day his manservant had found it.

Arthur might have given into temptation and took large and heady whiffs of the blood that had once stained his ring but he blamed the newness of it.

But he would most definitely not give into the temptation to lean into Merlin, bury his face into his neck, and smell for as long as he wanted too. The little beads of sweat that'd been breaking out across his little consort's neckline and doing a vain attempt of balancing on Merlin's collarbone would have no doubt made Merlin's scent more potent. And Arthur had a theory…the stronger Merlin smelled, the more happy he'd been. And Arthur would be the last person to say he desired Merlin's happiness. But maybe the transition from being the consort to Arthur's little private slave wouldn't be so hard if Merlin also got a thrill out of giving himself over to Arthur.

And then there were the bigger changes in Arthur that was only just now cropping up. Like the touching. Arthur would admit that he had touched Merlin thousands of times during these last few months, enough where he could confidently map out the shape and slope and curves of Merlin's delicate little wrists with his eyes closed. Enough where he knew the feel of Merlin's legs beneath him, the shape of his little lithe form as the boy squawked like some kind of demented bird and tried kicking him off. He even knew the softness of the boy's neck, and the curve which connected it to that collar bone of his. Knew the feel of Merlin's pulse going frantic in its panic as it fluttered wildly underneath his hand. But with all the times Arthur had touched his little consort, he could confidently say that this was the first time he had touched the boy so…intimately.

Was intimately a good word for it?

Arthur would have to say it was. Because his blood still felt as if it was buzzing beneath his skin. The side effect Merlin had left behind with him. Causing this addictive and almost heady quality to warm him up. If Arthur didn't know better-and knew he hadn't drunk anything yet-he would've thought it was the alcohol getting to him. But he knew it wasn't. The boy was more addictive than any drink could loosen him up, and he cast his hundredth glance towards the door with this growing impatience to have Merlin returning.

But Merlin didn't come.

And now Arthur had the imprint of Merlin's inner thigh being engraved into his mind. He knew the shape and the curve of the boy's leg. All the way down to his knee and back up to a more dangerous territory. He knew the different ways Merlin could jump and twitch and try to pull away. Knew how Merlin jolted in shock and fluttered around uselessly and how far it was he could go before Merlin finally jumped up. And Arthur knew how hard Merlin could clamp his legs together though it was no match for Arthur, who always got what it was that he wanted. He knew how much pressure was needed to get his fingers to wiggle into the space between his legs. Arthur knew how hard he could push and how sensitive Merlin was, where he literally reacted to every single brush of Arthur on him. And most importantly, the prince knew the exact shape and size of his wedding ring, and knew exactly how much a space it would take up once Arthur branded the little dragon mark on the inside of his thigh.

And if Merlin had waited a few bloody minutes longer for the prince's raging curiosity to get the best of him, then Arthur would have known what Merlin's crease felt like. That line in between the skin that separated Merlin's leg from his actual crotch. Arthur would never dare dream of trying to touch on 'that' spot, especially when he knew his father could've saw them, but the crease was completely different. He could've seen his fingers tracing it through Merlin's clothes, could've felt rather or not Merlin's skin was as warm as the blood that flowed through his veins. Allowing Arthur to feel the blush of embarrassment through the clothing. Could have seen all of the ways he could have gotten Merlin to quiver as he played within that crease. Close enough to tease the boy but being not so close that Arthur would forget Merlin was a boy for a hot second there.

Hell…Arthur had been daring enough to try proving to Merlin that he was just as good as any other lover that he'd allowed to bring him to the brink of pleasure before snatching it out of his grasp.

That was what this whole thing had been about.

Arthur was brave enough to admit that he'd panicked quite a bit when he first realized what he was doing. He had frozen in shock, trying to figure out when and where and how these traitorous fingers of his had worked their way up Merlin's leg to such an intimate spot of his anatomy. And once all of that frozen horror had melted out of his system, Arthur had been fully prepared to snatch his hand away. To bleach the entire memory from his mind and pretend it never happened. He'd even be damned if Merlin tried bringing it up to him later on.

But…Arthur hadn't moved his hand.

He couldn't.

Not with Merlin looking so…delicious? Debauched? Arthur didn't know the exact word he would use. Or if there was a different word that could be used to describe Merlin. A word that would make Arthur feel a little 'less' gay after what he'd done. But as far as Arthur could think, there wasn't a single word in the human language or in Arthur's vocabulary that'd make Arthur not recognize what he'd just done. And then all the questions started…thousands of them bursting inside of his head so fast that he could hardly keep up. Things like…did that knight he had seen Merlin with when he had hit him also see the way Merlin's mouth dropped open to suck in all of those ragged breaths, as if he'd just ran a hundred miles without moving from his seat. Would the manservant that'd been making eyes at Merlin see the way Merlin's eyes were fluttering as he struggled to keep them open and aware of what was being done to him. Had others-the many different strangers Merlin had already been with before Arthur got his hooks on the boy-also seen the way Merlin's body had been trembling from the smallest and most simplistic of touch.

And that was when the determination kicked in.

While obviously-as long as Arthur could keep his king from finding out he had never consummated their marriage-the prince was never going to share the simple delights his own men had shared by sampling his consort and the juices and sweet moans he allowed to escape him. He was at least able to do this. Bring Merlin to the brink himself…though that had also been a spur of the moment decision Arthur hadn't tried thinking twice about. He could honestly say he had not once brought another man to orgasm. Hadn't even been planning to try when he started testing the waters and swirling all his fingers against that special spot on Merlin's thigh. But then he had seen how fucking…responsive…Merlin was. He didn't know if Merlin was actually close to releasing…he may have risked a glance or two at Merlin's crotch and could not see any sign of hardness tenting through his pants. But the way Merlin had been going…it was a great ego boost for Arthur Pendragon.

Not even gay.

And was still better than any other lover Merlin ever had.

Because how many of them had driven his consort into this mad frenzy just from touching his thigh?

The prince didn't even need to venture into other unmarked territories to get Merlin going.

And he would be damned if any of those men tried to claim Arthur was not a generous lover.

Arthur's biggest regret though, was how the boy's bruises were on the other side of his face. Facing away from Arthur …he might've gotten a glimpse once or twice when the boy was able to come back to himself for long enough to try and goggle at him. But it hadn't been enough. Merlin had looked like something else, when his legs had fallen open after all of the straining he'd been doing to keep them closed. But it was a sure thing…the consort would have looked absolutely breathtaking if Arthur had been able to see more of all those purple splotches decorating his face. Hell, perhaps it was a good thing Arthur couldn't see them. He would have tried to lean forward-in the middle of a crowd be damned-to slowly lick a long streak up Merlin's cheek. Taste the endorphins as sweat clung to him. Feel the wincing as the roughness of his tongue agitated and flared up what pain Merlin must have in his markings. Maybe if he was lucky, he could even coax out a few tears brimming in the corner of Merlin's eyes. Taste all the different ways Merlin could cry from the single teardrop he would have resting on his tongue…

Arthur shivered now just thinking about it.

And then his father had interrupted them.

Arthur had thought he would've been more scared about his father discovering them. Hell, for a second, he had thought the king had already known. But then it turned out he didn't know a damn thing-and Arthur was going to enjoy skinning his consort alive. See his body quiver as tears rolled down his cheeks while he begged so sweetly to be let go, as the prince punished him for mentioning Clarissa's name in any vicinity as his father-and Arthur's blood had still felt just so …intoxicating. He had done his best to convince his father there was nothing going on between him and Clarissa, but he had been an anxious mess. His hands were practically screaming at him to get them back on Merlin. Had screamed at him to not stop touching him. Because if he stopped then whatever spell they had surrounding them would have been broken. And Arthur wasn't ready to stop tormenting Merlin in this new way. Wasn't ready to release him into the wild so any animal could climb on top and try claiming what rightly belonged to Arthur. He'd been jittery…and then Merlin done the worse thing possible and spoke up. Denying any excuse Arthur had told Uther and throwing Arthur right underneath the carriage, so to speak.

The blood roaring in Arthur's ears couldn't have been louder if it tried. The insatiable urge to drag Merlin straight out the chair and throw him down on his back on the table had been only two seconds away from happening. Arthur would have dragged Merlin down by his ankles so that his arse hung off the table, being held up only by his legs on either side of the prince's body. He would have fucking scorched fire onto the spot on Merlin's thigh until Merlin could only drown under all the powerful force. Would have tormented him until the both of them felt the blood rising through Merlin's skin, bruising it up. Giving Arthur another physical mark he could use as this reminder that Merlin belonged to him. Crowd be damned…it would have been impossible for Arthur to stop once he'd got started. Ripping those pants legs, feeling the silk flow out of his fingers as he got it out of the way, finally able to do all of the touching he wanted. To touch, and touch, and touch the boy's silky smooth skin, tempting to bend over and dig each and every one of his teeth into that one spot. Marking Merlin with his bite, something that would've taken far longer to go away. Something that could keep Merlin's thigh as a sort of …placeholder. Until Arthur had them enough privacy to burn his engraving into that spot. Leaving behind a few soothing licks as Merlin trembled, a silent promise to return once his ring was heated in the fire long enough to burn a permanent mark into that skin.

Ruining it…

Or making it the most beautiful thing in the world.

But he had held strong against the temptation.

Perfectly contained like he should be.

Just waiting for the right moment to strike.

Knowing it would have taken the strength of ten men to drag him off his consort if he attempted doing what he wanted.

And those goblets arriving had literally been a godsend.

Large cups of silver with gems bigger and brighter then the prince's eyes. Looking almost angelic and innocent when he had watched Merlin's being placed in front of him. That only reminded Arthur of how…demonic and dirty and naughty his consort was. Something so clear and pure should not have been given to somebody who was as sensitive and as needy as Merlin was. Hell. Arthur would bet good money that just a stiff wind would've been enough for the boy's little-pink, he would imagine-nipples to grow into hard peeks. Being sharp enough to cut diamonds. Hard enough for the pebbles to be seen through his shirt-god, couldn't somebody just open up a window so Arthur could see if his theory was true? Making them tempting enough that Arthur would want to flick at one of them, just to see if there was enough flab for them to try bouncing like a girl's would. See if Merlin was as responsive on his nipples as he was his thigh. See the flush on his face as Arthur tainted him.

Like the bloody whore he was.

Getting off on Arthur's touch.

His father couldn't have turned away fast enough.

And Arthur practically died in those few moments where he didn't touch Merlin at all, sinking back into his chair. Merlin had been all lax and open by that point, looking all soft and sweet and gentle…like a little doll just waiting to be played with to his full extent. And Arthur didn't even pretend to be listening to his father and King Bayard and their speech any longer. He slid his hand between Merlin's legs-god, how was it even possible for Merlin to be as open as he was. Pleased with Arthur's ministrations and doing nothing to stop him for the longest time. It was…sweet-and touched that spot with a relentless urgency. Merlin's sweetness be damned. For the whore needed to be punished. And punished he would be as Arthur made Merlin's body shake and jolt and tremble.

And when Merlin had dared try closing his legs on him…

Arthur had stopped that right there. Forcing Merlin to open up for him. Forcing the boy's thigh a little higher so he could play with a bigger selection. Forced the boy to keep himself sweet and gentle and doll-like and all his…just as it's always been meant to be. From the moment the contract had been signed between their parents, the two of them had always been meant to end up there. With Arthur's hand doing these dangerous things to Merlin. With the boy's breath hitching in sharply and desperately as Arthur took the reins and gave it his all. Giving Merlin his pleasure only at his discretion…just the boy try and tell Arthur he wasn't the best semi-lover he had ever had.

And then Merlin had stood up…

Arthur hadn't expected that. And his displeasure showed on his face. Disgusted with Merlin's attempt to escape him. To pretend Arthur wasn't the one making him desperate. But it left the people around them quiet, and Arthur found he was once again annoyed…a quick look at Merlin's crotch showed he wasn't hard at all. Or at least not from where Arthur was able to see. Perhaps the clothes were too thick? Or Merlin had better control over that-he had probably had lots more practice than Arthur did-and could keep it down. Perhaps it was something he should've been grateful for. The people would've seen if Merlin had himself on display. That would have ruined everything…Bayard would leave and take away his treaty if they thought they were so disrespectful as to be 'playing games' under the table.

But Bayard didn't know what was going on between Merlin and himself.

Arthur wasn't even sure he knew half the time.

But the idea of almost getting caught was exciting. He was sure it wouldn't be if they actually were. But having all these people so absolutely clueless about what Merlin had been doing-what he had been doing to Merlin-was an excitement the prince had never known before. He wanted to do it again and again. See how far he could push Merlin. See if he could get the boy that orgasm he had been chasing before reality hit him and he tried to leave. Flaunt this in front of all those that had touched him…prove he was so good, he got Merlin to ejaculate in front of dozens of people. Have him walking in front of others, playing his part as consort as the people naively didn't know about the cooling cum coating all over the inside of Merlin's undergarments.

But still…Merlin wasn't hard.

And Arthur was…disappointed?

Wasn't he trying hard enough?

But Bayard started talking again, getting the attention off of them. And Arthur wanted to shoot a smug look towards him -what was he going to do? Take away the treaty by saying it was because Arthur brought his consort pleasure when the king hadn't had his turn?-as he was still convinced the other king wanted a taste of the sweetness that was Merlin. Was wanting to taste the smooth nectar that reined from him and coated himself in slick and sweat…but he would believe that Arthur had gotten there first. Taking away his chance to try and seduce Merlin from him…

But then Merlin had tried to leave him…

And Arthur wanted to try forcing Merlin into full hardness just this once…

Just to prove to himself that he was the best.

Merlin's wrist had never felt as tender and as frail as it had when Arthur had grabbed him. One twist, and Arthur could have broken the bone in two. But no. Arthur was interested in scarring and branding and whips and chains and even the odd dose of blood coming into the mix. But breaking one of Merlin's precious bones was too much for even him. It would be hard to play with his little boy if Merlin was wrapped up…it wasn't fun at all if Merlin couldn't move properly to try and get away from him. Arthur wanted a real challenge at first of course. And anything less would feel as if Arthur might have been cheated out of something great.

And cheated, Arthur would not be.

And then he had called Merlin his 'good boy'. It had been the first time Arthur had ever said it out loud. The first time he'd tried being just as tempting to Merlin as Merlin was to him…the words slipping off his tongue easier then the silk of the boy's clothes between his fingers. The first time he would be admitting to somebody other then his own absolutely deranged mind what he wanted. Merlin…as his good boy. A constant pet that liked to be petted and smoothed over and played with to Arthur's discretion. Meant to be molded until Merlin forgot what the feel of other hands on his body would feel like…

Just testing the waters, he was.

Trying to see Merlin's reaction to this small taste of what his new life could entail. Once Arthur had broken him in. Once Arthur had shown him the ropes and given him the beginner course of the training Arthur had been working out inside of his mind since he'd made the decision to go ahead with this.

And Merlin did not disappoint.

Merlin's dumbstruck expression was like icing on top of this very huge and expensive cake. It looked too good to touch, just knowing it would be broken the second you did. But the breaking of it would be very sweet indeed. The taste melting on one's tongue as the sounds of little whimpering met his ears. And then Merlin had done something Arthur realized only then, that he hadn't done in a long time…he had gotten sassy with him. Truly sassy. The kind of sassiness that had Arthur's toes curling in his boots. Had his blood pumping a bit faster than before. Had his eyes wondering down to the boy's crotch to see if he could get away with palming along the boy's thigh while he was standing…

"Now please, I am sure that everybody has grown tired of hearing me babble on. But bear with me, because today is such an important day. And our history needs to forever be remembered so it does not happen again in the future." The king of Mercia called a little louder, overlooking the crowd of onlookers. Arthur slowly blinked, watching as the king lifted up his goblet before the crowd. He was grateful to see that the king's never ending speech finally seemed to be ending. But he was annoyed because it brought him out of the little grove he had going on. Shook him away from all his ruthless thoughts on Merlin and how absolutely delicious his consort was when he got sassy. It made Arthur wish he had already invested in a proper gag for the boy, instead of just using a neckerchief he would get off Merlin so Arthur wouldn't end up distracted. "Now please, will everybody stand up to join in this joyous day. And have a toast with me?"

Arthur watched with this almost pliant expression, since it wasn't really a question, as one by one other people started to stand. And Arthur watched as his father gave him a stern look, grabbing his goblet off the table before turning around to face King Bayard again. Yes. It seemed as if his king was still furious with him over Clarissa. But Arthur could hardly do a thing about that now. Other then standing up to join the others in the festivities. But Arthur's body felt as if it was far looser then it usually was…as if he was a cat that had spent it's entire day lounging in the sun. Totally relaxed…was this the result of this strange turn of events with Merlin?

Because he knew the boy would be returning to him soon…

And he could continue petting Merlin's thigh, maybe finally get a finger into that crease he had been obsessing about earlier throughout dinner. Over and over again…nobody the wiser as Merlin forgone eating his own dinner in favor of just allowing what Arthur could do for him wash over him. Maybe if he was lucky, Merlin would be just as pliant as he was…the prince loved watching him squirm. But he also liked the idea of Merlin relaxing in his chair, allowing his legs to fall open to Arthur's ministrations…loose and pliant and sweet. Being trusting enough to know Arthur knew what he was doing…. kinda. But Arthur most definitely knew how to fend off any people who ventured too close, trying to take Merlin and his attention away from what Arthur was doing to him.

Not on his watch.

Merlin wouldn't have to worry about a thing.

He would just allow Arthur to take care of everything…

"And may the differences of our past forever remain in our past. For they have no bearings on the future days that are before us now." Bayard started off his toast-Arthur had only just remembered to pick up his own goblet and hold it up as everybody else was doing-raising his cup high above. As if he was thanking the gods above for allowing them to reach this day. But thanking the gods-for Arthur-would have only been preferable if he was thanking them for bringing him a lovely little brat to tame. "Now…to your health, King Uther, so that you may see the fruition of what our treaty will bring to each other."

Bayard lifted his cup in a silent show of respect for the host king, who lifted his goblet up just the same. But Arthur was lost to the celebrations of it…wondering just how long did it take for somebody to pee? Arthur had been on this careful countdown-down to the last second countdown-since the boy had left his side. And Merlin only had forty five short seconds to return to his side before Arthur went searching for him. Little brat…Merlin had probably thought he would scare Arthur away with his bold defiance. Probably thought Arthur would be disgusted with him, and no longer try to go touching on him after claiming he would be willing to pee on Arthur.

Truly a mutt.

Not housebroken at all, just as Merlin had said.

But Arthur only found that more intriguing.

Not the peeing on him part, because that was absolutely gross. And Arthur would have Merlin in iron shackles being whipped across his back for a week straight before the very first drop could leave the tip of Merlin's cock. But there was a different…aspect to peeing that might stroke an interest in Arthur. Arthur needed to be a good master if he wanted his little consort to be a good boy for him, so he needed to be able to check off all of Merlin's needs. He had already gone and considered a somewhat shaky and liable to change kind of reward and punishment system. Had even thought-in far more detail then he had wanted at the time, but sparked this curiosity in him now since he'd seen Merlin's reactions to his touch-about what he would do about Merlin's sexual needs, as it would be quite cruel of Arthur to allow a fellow man go months-if not years-without any kind of release in sight. He would be willing to give Merlin toys since he didn't want the boy trying to sneak a grope at himself whenever he thought Arthur wasn't looking, prompting more punishments for him doing something without permission.

But Merlin also had other needs Arthur would need to meet during their time together…

Like food…Arthur would need to keep a constant supply of food on hand for whenever the boy needed his strength. It wouldn't do if Merlin passed out or something because he had forgotten to feed him. Or water. The things they would be doing would be very taxing on the human body. So he'd probably need to keep a few pitchers of water on his desk for standby. Arthur was a knight who trained in the sun all day long, he knew the importance of staying hydrated. This would have pretty much the same principle. Staying watered so Merlin could keep a clear head. And then…Merlin would obviously need to pee at some point during the day. Arthur would need to get him his own chamber pot to keep beside Arthur's…

But there was no reason Arthur couldn't…stress him out for a little bit. Nothing that would damage his insides-as Gaius had stressed to him when he was ten and refused stopping his training long enough for a bathroom break-but that did not mean Arthur couldn't play with the boy. It would be fun…having Merlin all chained up with his hands above his head as he sat on his knees. Wiggling and squirming as he held his legs together trying to stop himself from going. Seeing the warm flush on Merlin's face as he sweetly begged him for enough privacy to go to the chamber pot. Learning just how long it would take before Merlin couldn't hold it even a second longer, begging so sweetly for Arthur to release his hands so he could go. Maybe Arthur would even play a bit…pressing his hand over Merlin's stomach and 'pushing.'

Watch as Merlin gasped, his pink lips falling open with his silent struggle not to release right there. The pressure the prince gave him too much for him to answer. Cue the crying and the deeper flush and by god-the fucking WIGGLING-to get Arthur to let him go. To deny Merlin this basic need that all people had. To control Merlin to such an extent that he'd not be able to use the chamber pot without thinking of the way Arthur taunted him.

Hell. If they were at that point in their training, perhaps the prince would have denied Merlin leaving to begin with. It'd be interesting to see a taste of Merlin squirming in his seat…see if he'd be able to hold it until they returned to Arthur's chambers. Or if Arthur would have to watch a wet spot start forming where Merlin's crotch was…fuck. Arthur had some serious issues, and they all seemed to stem from Merlin. His boy only had about thirty five seconds before Arthur got the chance to excuse himself to go looking for him…

"Arthur."

Arthur's head snapped up, his whole body jolting out of his wicked thoughts with the sound of his name. He was almost positive his thoughts must've been written all over his face for the others in the room to decipher. And Arthur was most definitely not stupid. He knew how absolutely depraved and messed up his mind had became. But Merlin drew it out and Merlin would pay for the consequences with his mind, body, and obedience. But as it turned out, Arthur wasn't about to be summoned in front of the better part of noble society so somebody else could demand to know what was wrong with him…

He knew what was wrong with him, thank you very much.

And it's name was Merlin…

It was only Bayard. Raising his goblet towards the prince. It took Arthur a second before he realized the king had moved on from his father and was now toasting Arthur. Continuing his toast. Arthur raised his goblet as well, keeping up with a pristine image of how a prince should look like. It must have worked because nobody questioned him, as Bayard moved on with his toast.

"To the lovely Consort Merlin, wherever he might be at this moment." Bayard said with a lighthearted laugh, going down the line of progression as he lifted his goblet towards Merlin and his very empty chair. A few people tittered along to the king's joke, though most of Camelot seemed to be having very stern or strict or unamused expressions. Arthur didn't find it much amusing either. Bayard calling the boy 'lovely' was a good sign as any that Bayard still wanted to get into Merlin's pants. "I am sure he would have liked to be here for this."

…I'm sure he would be, Arthur thought privately to himself, as he cast a glance over towards the far wall. It was where Arthur knew the manservant that had been making eyes at Merlin was standing. Arthur had been keeping a steady eye on him since Merlin had left. The little timer he had the boy on would become meaningless if Arthur saw the boy trying to leave for any reason. Arthur didn't trust the servant to not go looking for Merlin. It wasn't too hard to imagine his idiot consort having absolutely no dignity, and being willing to go bending over in the same room that held a chamber pot by his feet. This would obviously force Arthur to follow so the little party they were having could be broken up before that manservant could get his small cock inside of Merlin. But it didn't seem to be a problem. The manservant seemed to be quite content standing on the sidelines and watching as his King carried on for the crowd.

"To the beautiful and fetching Lady Morgana. May whoever wins your heart be as worthy as you are."

Arthur glanced out the corner of his eye and saw the thin lip but polite smile Morgana wore as she lifted her goblet up in acknowledgement. Arthur had to stifle a laugh, knowing the ladies complicated history with being matched up. There'd been a brief time when Morgana first became old enough to be married off, where suitors had flooded the castle and did try their hardest to win her hand. But Morgana had chased each and every one of them off when she realized they were talking to Uther-chaperoning their first meeting-rather then talking to her or trying to get to know her better. Those poor men had thought Morgana was the key needed to getting an 'in' with the king. And was willing to accept Morgana as this docile thing on their arm. Needless to say, Morgana had got more and more creative with her methods of chasing them off before any proper bid for her hand could be made. After Morgana had set the last one to show up on fire, it had been a complete and honest mistake on her part, or so she'd tried claiming though Arthur hardly believed it, Uther had made a declaration that they would no longer be accepting any kind of suitor until Morgana suggested a name herself.

It really had been the the best. As it soothed the protective streak Uther had towards the only woman in their family. It was also for the safety of all men who tried coming. She had been escalating her little acts of defiance, upset with all the choices being offered to her. The next one would probably walk away missing a limb or heavily disfigured. But Morgana had also reached twenty two years of age-a year and a half older then Arthur-earlier this year. And people did like telling how Morgana was going to end up an old maid. Most young women had already at least had their first kid and had been married for a handful of years by Morgana's age.

Arthur was almost proud of her for not settling.

Unlike him, who hadn't had much of a choice.

But then again, his choice wasn't nearly as awful as he had thought it would. He doubted any other peasant coming off the street would be as…devastating tempting as Merlin had turned out to be. Nobody else would give as good as Arthur himself did. Nobody else would make Arthur want to beat all the shit out of him, while also tempting him towards being a deviant. Deviant enough to not care about the little things a future like theirs would bring…with Merlin stripped and down on his knees for Arthur to do as he pleased…

"And we must not forget about the people of Camelot who has graciously allowed us to invade their home for the time being."

Bayard turned away from the royal family so that he could lift his goblet towards the nobles who had been invited to witness the festivities. Arthur followed Bayard's hand, and looked down the long length of table that held the elites of their kingdom. And it wasn't hard for Arthur to be drawn to an orange dressed monstrosity towards the end of the table which caused Arthur to lift his lip in a curled sneer. The Lady Orange seemed to feel his stare on her, because she looked up until she found him as the culprit. Arthur was too far from her to be able to hear properly, but she sure looked as if she had just squeaked. Obviously remembering where she and Arthur had left off…when she had insulted his consort to his face. And disappeared before Arthur had a chance to force a proper apology out of her. Only Arthur could call his brat out as the whore that he was…

Arthur still could hardly believe what had started the whole awful mishap to begin with. Clarissa had offered up Lady Orange's 'babysitting services' so Arthur would be free to attend the banquet with her. And Lady Orange had honestly thought for one second that Arthur would leave Merlin's own personal safety-more like make sure no man was doing their best to hover nearby, hoping they'd get a taste of Merlin and his sweet nectar when Arthur wasn't looking-in her delicate hands. Arthur wasn't desperate enough to leave his consort with a knight to guard him, as he had no idea which knights he could trust not to stick a hand down Merlin's pants. He'd definitely never leave the boy with somebody like HER…

But Arthur watched as Lady Orange ducked behind another girl clad in purple…Lady Clarissa herself. Looking more then mildly annoyed when Lady Orange shrunk down behind her, but turned back to Bayard without putting up too much of a fuss about the whole situation.

Ah…Lady Clarissa…you know, Arthur had actually meant to talk to her about something important. Unless Merlin lied to him to stir up trouble when they had bern fighting before his first proper meeting with Bayard, the boy claimed Clarissa'd been claiming she was his girlfriend. Now, as far as he could discern, she had only said this to Merlin. And not started up a shitshow by doing it publicly. But the behavior was still far more concerning than Arthur cared too deal with…he'd dealt with one psychotic girl who had been obsessed with him to the point of breaking into his bed chambers and attempting to climb into bed with him while he was sleeping…naked as the day she was born. A quick shout from a startled prince had brought the guards to his room where they'd detained her…she had been the last girl Arthur slept with before his consort had been brought to his door. She had done been able to convince herself that Arthur would marry her since they had lain together. But the story had been kept hushed and she had been deposited back with her family and made to retire in their family estate somewhere in the deepest and darkest parts of the country. Arthur hadn't seen or heard of her since, but he most certainly did not want history to start repeating itself with Clarissa.

But then Merlin had started stressing him out and he'd given in and tried using her again to make Merlin mad and then all of it had blown up before Arthur had any chance to bring up such a delicate topic matter. Most women were prone to act upset and cause a scene if one accused them of becoming crazy. It was something Arthur was hoping to avoid.

"And to the fallen warriors on both sides." This time, it was not Bayard that spoke. It was his own father. The Red King rose his goblet up high, a sense of solemness in his words that caused a gloomy atmosphere to break out across the room. Arthur ducked his head down…this was why all of this treaty business was so important. Yes. Camelot would get a added supply of grain every quarter. And Mercia would get to cut their travel time in half with the Camelot roads being opened to them. But there had been far too much blood that stained the grounds between their lands. Too many reports Arthur had to file, and missives he had to send out to inform the families their husband, brother, cousin, or son would not be coming home. At least now…all of that would end. "I shall wish for them all to rest in peace."

Sensing that the speech was now over-twelve seconds to go before he could collect Merlin-the prince lifted his new goblet to his lips, prepared to take a swig before he found a chance to privately excuse himself. Just as everybody else was doing…but Arthur had just placed the cold lip of the cup to his lips when he noticed something out of his eye. Arthur pulled the cup away without drinking, and frowned confused when he saw Gaius was glaring at him. Standing by his seat at the Camelot table…Gaius hadn't bothered picking up his own goblet. He seemed content to glare at Arthur…and the prince even glanced around the room himself to see if there was anybody standing behind him. But Morris had left to go and find more food to load down their table with, so…it had to be Arthur Gaius was glaring at…?

Arthur glanced back at the aged physician, who looked as if he was now breathing harshly though his nose…Arthur had to say he didn't know what that was about? Perhaps he was in a bad mood? Though Arthur couldn't say he had ever had the physician take his anger out on Arthur before. But…how long has Gaius been sending him these looks? Had that look started when…had Gaius already been glaring at him before Arthur had started touching Merlin? Arthur cleared his voice and rolled his neck, feeling a little too hot under his collar. It really only was fun to torment Merlin when nobody knew the truth…definitely not so much fun if somebody else knew the truth as well. Arthur could feel the back of his neck warming up with a flushed color…he was probably being stupid. Why would Gaius be so mad about Arthur touching his husband…it should have been expected. Maybe not during events like this but…it was perfectly natural for others to assume he'd done unspeakable things to his consort.

Arthur shook it off, deciding all of this was a problem meant for later. He only had eight seconds to go before he had the chance to leave. And then Merlin could deal with Gaius and his strange new attitude while Arthur found distraction…in a different place. With five seconds left, Arthur lifted the drink to his lips. With three seconds left, Arthur could feel the cup pressed against his lips. And with one second left to go…the blond prince tilted his head back. The fragrance of the wine filling his nostrils, the cold rich color brushing against his lip as he opened his mouth a little wider. Preparing himself with a bit of liquid courage for what the next escalation between him and Merlin would be…

"STOP!"

Arthur nearly choked on his drink, what little wine staining his lip falling straight back into the cup as he jerked it away from him wildly. The wine sloshed dangerously, a few drops of it spilling out over the top and staining the wood table he stood over. But that hardly mattered, his head whipping fast around, his heart nearly leaping into his throat. Recognizing Merlin's voice almost more then he would've recognized his own. And then he was there. The dark haired boy, and all of the dark rich fabrics he was clothed in made him look like a demon of some sort, as he pushed his way through all of the other people, who looked like peacocks in comparison.

An avenging demon…born to lay hellfire and waste onto all the prince had accomplished.

But Arthur only saw the brightly colored visions of people in the corner of his eyes as they faded into the background. A wild urge to start screaming at them filled his throat…trying to demand his own people get their move on and step out of the way so his raven consort could get through. But nobody moved-making it even more difficult for his consort to move through the crowd-unless Merlin was pushing them. Using a elbow here and there like some kind of wild boar…and there was no telling if Arthur was impressed or horrified by all the sudden exuberant energy Merlin was showing. But this was strangely out of character for the boy…okay, perhaps it was not. He did make it a habit of making a fool out of himself in front of important people…this should have been expected, as things had been going far too easy. But Arthur's head fell to the deepest and darkest of places…his consort had been gone for only five minutes. But anything could've happened in those five minutes.

Was it possible that he had been hurt?

Was it possible that somebody had found Merlin while he was using the privacy room?

Had somebody decided to take their fill of Merlin without his permission?

Had somebody ASSAULTED his consort?

Was Merlin now here, rushing to Arthur's side, in an attempt to seek comfort and guidance after a horrific experience?

It was one thing to be a whore who gave it up willingly. But it was quite another when it was forcibly taken…

"Merlin, what on earth is going on?" Arthur was demanding as the final pieces of the crowd parted, allowing for Merlin to spill out on the floor. Several people gasped in horror and shock as the consort cursed loudly under his breath, being not nearly as quiet as he probably thought he was. But then Merlin was shoving himself off the ground, throwing himself back up onto his feet as if his fall had never happened. And Arthur's eyes roamed over his consort's form wildly, already looking for any marks Arthur hadn't given him or any kind of tear or rip in his clothing that would suggest somebody had taken advantage of his consort being out of sight. But there was nothing as far as he could see. But this didn't mean one damn thing, and Arthur could feel his goblet starting to slide it's way through his fingers. Where it was destined to hit the table with a clatter, spilling wine everywhere while the blond would rush around the consort to meet him in the middle of the room. "What has happened? Has-"

Arthur's words died in his throat before he had the chance to push himself away from the table. Because Merlin was all the way there…so sudden and quick. Arthur didn't think he'd be able to explain how Merlin had managed to get himself to the other side of the room as quick as he did. But he was on the other side of the table. And Arthur could only see a blue blaze erupting from Merlin's eyes…stronger and brighter, far more vibrant and serious than Arthur could ever remember seeing them. And then Merlin was snatching his goblet out of his frozen fingers, jerking it away from Arthur until he was holding onto nothing. His hand clenched around nothing but the air, and Merlin was gone. Taking Arthur's goblet while he stepped away as quick as he had came.

Arthur wasn't sure what had just happened. But he was sure he wasn't breathing. Those eyes…good god. How could the boy have eyes so full of fiery passion and determination and …Arthur didn't know what else he would call it. But he knew he wanted to see more of it. And figure out what happened to Merlin in that bathroom to cause such a sudden and swift change in personality. Arthur had been expecting for Merlin to return to his seat and allow Arthur to play with him a little bit longer. He wasn't expecting for something like…this…but there would be hell to pay if Merlin's little show turned out to be Merlin's way of trying to get himself kicked out so that Arthur wouldn't have another opportunity to touch him…

"Do NOT drink this goblet!" Merlin's voice rang out across the silent and still room of onlookers, holding the goblet out in front of him as if he thought it might try to kill him. Arthur frantically shook his head, trying to be more focused about what was going on…like why Merlin felt the need to take his goblet from him. If Merlin wanted his so bad, there was not any reason for why they couldn't switch the goblets up…the prince would've been willing to take over Merlin's cup so the consort could have his. As long as Merlin was willing to give Arthur a proper reward for being so generous…like having all the free access he wanted to that crease in Merlin's leg. "It's been poisoned!"

Arthur felt himself stilling, his mind snapping back into full attention mode for real. His own confusing desires pushed to the far back of his mind to wait until there wasn't a crisis happening in front of him. And Arthur wasn't the only one to still. Several people in the room had done the same, as even more horrid gasps and shared looks spread out all along the room like some sort of ripple in a tide-pool. Arthur was only vaguely able to hear Uther's loud exclamation of 'What are you talking about' pass the ringing in his ears. Poisoned…he could feel the phantom touch of the wine barely gracing his lips mere seconds before Merlin had thrown open the door and came streaming in with wild limbs and messed up curls and a violent attitude. Poisoned…Arthur's heartbeat seemed to slow down in his chest as a strange calm fell over him.

Poisoned…out the corner of his eye, Arthur could see Lady Morgana looking down into her own goblet, as if suddenly wondering if she too had a poisoned goblet…but the prince knew she did not. This wasn't the first time somebody had tried to poison the prince. It sort of came with the territory of a royal. Assassination attempts and the like that usually went wrong. A direct attack on him was nearly useless since he became old enough to defend himself. But poison…that was what the royal tasters were for. Men and women would been chosen specifically for the honor of possibly giving up their lives for the crown to live. These Royal Taste Testers were always well compensated for putting their lives on the line. But any poison was usually detected long before the plate could reach Arthur's table. This had been…this would have had to be the closest the poison had came to entering his system. He could still smell the perfume of the wine that had entered his nostrils…like particularly strong flowers. The cup certainly hadn't smelt like death. But…how had the wine gotten to him without one of the royal tasters collapsing…

"…Merlin." Arthur said slowly, talking gently and calm. As if his consort really was a wild boar that needed to be calmed and talked down too before they did something drastic. The prince eyed the cup being held delicately between Merlin's long fingers…Arthur didn't know what kind of poison was in the cup. But he knew he didn't want it anymore near Merlin at all. The boy was clumsy. What if he tripped or something and spilt it on himself? Would the poison sink in through his skin? Or did it have to be ingested for it to take root. And he couldn't snatch it out the boy's hand for fear he would try to struggle and once again, the end results of split wine would have been a major problem. "I need you to start again. But I need you to start making sense this time, and explain to me what do you mean by poisoned…"

What Arthur really meant was…how did Merlin come to such a conclusion. Trying to think about this logically, the prince knew the royal testers would have had to know by now if the one that had tasted the prince's food specifically had fallen onto his deathbed. They would have came racing inside the room in an attempt to get Arthur's cup away from him long before he was in any actual danger. But Merlin had simply gone to a privacy room…so there was no logical reason for Merlin to know of such things before anybody else found out. It didn't make a lick of sense, and who would poison somebody during such an important event. If it was any other day, then sure. But a peace treaty? That was when somebody would decide to strike against him? It was an odd choice. But the consort's bad behavior issues didn't make anything better. Or make Arthur more inclined to bring open minded towards this now that he was using his brain instead of his initial reaction.

"King Bayard has laced Arthur's goblet with poison!" Merlin once again spoke loudly enough for his voice to echo to the far corners of the room. Gasps were once again ripped right through the room like a tidal wave crashing down. And each and every person whipped around to look at King Bayard as if seeing him for the first time. As if seeing him as the snake that had entered their garden in an attempt to tempt them to follow him into sin. As Merlin pointed an accusing finger at the man, he shouted. "He's trying to have Arthur killed!"

Bayard…Arthur thought the word again over and over in his head…BAYARD, was the one Merlin was accusing. If Arthur did not believe Merlin before, then there was no chance he would believe him now. Bayard was the one that had came all the way here for this treaty. With dozens of his men and servants in tow…it would be pretty hard to make an escape if they had so many men. And if he wanted to kill the prince then why not invite Camelot to Mercia? It would be easier to kill Arthur and Uther both if they were away from the larger majority of their population. Easier to take out all the knights they had taken with them if Mercia had its own guards put in place. Unless…unless this was Bayard's attempt to not only get Merlin but keep him as well. With Arthur being taken out of the picture, any noble could sweep in and offer to take a widowed consort as their own, if said consort agreed with the pairing of course. But the idea seemed so far fetched as Bayard hadn't met Merlin all that long ago. Arthur was able to recognize the strange allure his consort had-he himself affected by it most of all-but surely the consort could not have worked his charm over Bayard so quickly. That he was willing to risk the treaty for a simple chance of getting to lay with his consort. Why…it was preposterous! Merlin couldn't have been 'that' good in bed to tempt a fellow king into sin and murder…

"This is an outrage!" Bayard suddenly screamed, glaring at Merlin as if seeing him for the first time. As if no longer was the king seeing the consort as somebody he could talk with so much sweetness too as he had been doing. The king had his face turning a blistering red because of how furious this whole situation had made him. But this made Arthur feel as if he was ripped in two…because would any man really admit he had just tried to poison the heir to a kingdom? But then again…what else was somebody supposed to say when they had been accused of doing something that was absolutely heinous. "How dare you! HOW DARE YOU!"

Whatever good will Bayard had been having towards Merlin seemed to have evaporated completely, which had to mean Bayard didn't want to sleep with Merlin so much as have him killed. And Arthur whipped his head between Bayard and his consort, having never been in such a delicate position in his entire life. If Bayard was behaving right and this was all just a huge misunderstanding, then Merlin could be causing the entire kingdom a major diplomatic issue. This wasn't like all the other times where it had been handled inside of Camelot sorely. This now involved another kingdom. Bayard wouldn't ever work with Camelot again. Hell. They could even start a war over this issue. But…Arthur could hate on Merlin all that he wanted and call him stupid and idiot and tell him off for a multitude of simple things. But when had Merlin been wrong about the major things? Bayard or Merlin…Merlin or Bayard…it was an impossible decision to make. And all he wanted was for the choice to be taken out of his hands. But he was a prince, and a prince had to make the hard decisions…

Even if all he wanted was to sit Merlin down so Arthur could pet his thighs like he had been doing. And pretend none of this had happened.

But then the unmistakable sound of a blade being pulled out of its sheath reached Arthur's ears, and the prince whipped his head back around to look at Bayard horrified. Holding his sword in hand, the king looked as if he was about to run the consort right through his middle. And as if this was the cue for them, responding to their king's silent orders, every one of the knights from Mercia also drew their own swords from their stealth's. The situation went from one to a hundred in a heartbeat as the grand doors flung open. Many of the noble people-who were not fighters-shrieked in fear and panic as they tried gathering against a wall to get out of the sudden danger zone as Camelot knights stormed the room. And all of them already had a sword out. Camelot had Mercia beat by two to one, as two red cloaked knights each pinned their swords onto one of the blue cloaks.

Camelot's Grand Hall was about to be stained in blood and marked as a battlefield…

And right in the center of the chaos was Merlin. The consort had clearly not expected such an intense reaction, spinning around to look at all the sharp blades that were far too close to him and his person. Some of Camelot's soldiers were now bracketing Merlin in, flashing their swords, the lights glinting and bouncing off the sharp blades dangerous directly in the Mercian knight's directions. Keeping their consort safe from the crossfire if Mercia tried making any attempt on his life…but Arthur could see a couple of blades were twisted in the wrong direction. One of the men next to Merlin had his own blade pressed against Merlin's side, and Arthur was sure his knight was getting ready to drag Merlin behind him. But the prince clearly had to explain using a sword to push someone behind him for safety was not the way to go.

But Arthur shouldn't rely on his men to keep Merlin safe…he was the one that needed to get Merlin out of there before it was him who had his head on a silver platter. Anybody worth their salt could throw a sword and take Merlin's head off for this insult in a second. It didn't matter rather or not Bayard had actually poisoned his drink. He needed to get the other boy behind him, out of the danger zone before one of those knights got overzealous and made an attempt on the other boy's life. And then he could worry about this whole poison accusation. But when Arthur's hand flew down to grab onto the hilt of his sword…he froze. Right. He wasn't wearing one of his blades on his hip as he usually did. He was a prince so it would've been seen as being overly cautious if he brought a blade to dinner. To a party. Not so much for Bayard-whose caution should have been admired since he was in a foreign land-who brought his own sword.

But…Arthur felt his blood turn cold.

He had nothing to protect Merlin with.

He couldn't get the boy out of danger without being able to protect himself if Mercia tried to attack.

He would need too…need to rely on his own men to keep his consort safe. But the knight that had his sword poised along Merlin's belly was clearly uncoordinated as he tried to shield Merlin. He was one of the newer knights. But surely he knew one wrong twitch would have been enough to slice open the frozen consort's belly…it would have sent Merlin's insides all over the floor. Which only proved to Arthur that nobody could keep Merlin safe like he could. Nobody could stop a Mercian knight properly before one raced forward to run Merlin through. Nobody…it would seem not even himself at the moment, would be able to get Merlin away from these chambers with his heart still beating and his insides still in check.

"Order your men to put down their swords!" Uther suddenly said across the room. He had no reason to shout, since the sternness of his voice did the job of making everybody still without attacking another. Bayard was looking nervous now as a handful of Camelot knights surrounded him with poised spears. Nobody from Mercia could come forward to protect their king, being herded back by those from Camelot with all their swords at the ready for battle. But Arthur could feel his breathing coming out a little easier. A little less tense. Uther …his father…he would fix all of this. He would be able to do what Arthur didn't know how to do. He would get Merlin out of the line of fire. "…You are outnumbered."

Out the corner of his eye, Arthur could see the way Morgana snatched up a ladle out of the serving bowl, with her other hand reaching out to grab onto Gwen as the two girls made sure to press together. Maybe Arthur should've been a little more concerned over the fact that Morgana was apparently thinking she could fight off anyone of Mercia-the best and most skilled fighters that kingdom had to offer-with only a ladle as her weapon. But…at least she had somebody with her that she could cling onto. At least she didn't have a near rabid urge to grab onto Merlin and drag him to safety. Arthur could hardly deal with the chaos around them if he was in a constant state of worry over whether or not Merlin's smart mouth was going to get him killed. But the ladle was a moot point, as several of Camelot's knights swarmed the girl and subsequently her handmaiden, bracketing around them the same as they had done Merlin. Though at least nobody else was pressing a sword close enough to Morgana that it could do the job for Mercia and start drawing blood…which might just act like blood in the water. Drawing a frenzy of sharks a mile away in a quest to quench their bloodlust.

But Arthur's lungs expanded when a second knight pushed his way through those bracketing Merlin, elbowing away the knight who didn't know how to hold his sword-Arthur would be putting him through intense training drills if they all made it through this, as well as a refresher course on the extreme importance of keeping the royal family safe. And not doing the job for their enemies accidentally-and took his place at Merlin's side. Actually half shielding him properly, with most of his shoulder covering Merlin's scrawnier form, fully ready to take a blade to the chest to keep the Royal Consort out of harm's way. And a whoosh of air escaped Arthur…it was only Knight Gregory. The same knight Arthur had once assigned as Merlin's personal guard before Merlin had made him get rid of him. Arthur knew the man was a good knight. And he might not be able to keep Merlin in his room, he definitely knew how to use a sword. And the best part…Arthur could be at least…halfway positive that Gregory wasn't sleeping with Merlin as he had a wife and newborn at home.

"How dare you tell me to put down my sword! Would you let such an accusation stand if it was you?" Bayard roared right in his father's direction, trying to use his sword to gesture in a wild abandonment towards the king, in response to Uther telling him to surrender. Uther had sounded as if he'd been spending this entire peace treaty waiting for the other shoe to drop. Perhaps the king was still mad about the easy going way Bayard had claimed he was gay when he first arrived in the castle. And Uther was taking this as his chance-no other reason could have been bigger than Bayard trying to poison his only heir-to burn all bridges with Mercia. "I do not know where you have found this boy, but to have a consort stand here and make accusations of me! I treated him with all the same dignity and respect I would give any of you absolute awful Pendragon's! And this is what he comes back with? I cannot allow this to go unchallenged!"

Bayard tried to wave his sword once again, this time towards Merlin. And Arthur straightened his back, his eyes darting in quick succession beneath the two. Looking as if he might be planning to launch himself over this table and drag Merlin to the ground where he would be a harder target. But then one of the Camelot Knights guarding Bayard stuck his spear but a scant two inches away from Bayard's neck. Several of the men from Mercia who couldn't get to him roared with what could only be described as a fierce protectiveness, none of them could come forward as many of them had already got detained. Swords lost, pinned down by those who were far more skilled then Mercia…Arthur never did like to skimp on his training sessions. It was good to know it was being paid off now, as Gregory grabbed Merlin by his bicep and pulled him behind himself more firmly.

"I can assure you, my son's consort will be dealt with swiftly and immediately if his claims prove false." Uther said with a deep and sharp growl, refusing to humor Bayard and admit to 'exactly' where he had found this boy. Arthur felt this cold shiver going down his back…shit. He had just been looking at his father as if he was the hero. The reigning champion in the wings who would be able to drag the damsel in distress out of the line of fire and away from the battlefield. But as it turned out, perhaps his father was the enemy today. He had given Arthur time and time and time again to rein in his own consort, had even warned Arthur that he'd take the reins on Merlin himself should he fail at it properly. And whenever it was finally a done deal. When Arthur had 'finally' decided to make a sudden change in his treatment of Merlin…the other boy had gone and caused another sudden catastrophe and added it onto his list of chaos making. This incident may be the one that pushed his father too far…this incident was the one-Arthur just knew it-where his father was going to make good on his word and take Merlin from him. Well, not really as they were married. But Uther sure would decide on what Merlin did with his days. How he was disciplined. And what he was taught…no more free physician lessons from Gaius if the boy had continued with the new hobby he'd developed last month. But even worse…Arthur had just ordered chains for a boy who might never get to wear them. "So, Merlin will tell me now. On what grounds are you basing such heinous accusations on?"

Uther's words seemed to spark an action in the frozen ones standing around the room as one by one, the crowd started to split in half right down the middle. Even Knight Gregory stepped aside so that their Consort Merlin could be seen standing at the end of the line. Arthur glanced between his father and his consort, noticing just how small Merlin looked to be when he was standing between all of those larger and more muscled men. Almost like a fragile little teacup that'd break if somebody tried poking at him too hard. But Arthur also saw his chance, and used the opportunity that had just been handed to him to his advantage. Arthur needed to just prove to his father that he could handle Merlin. That he was able to get Merlin out of here, stop this diplomatic incident from happening, and send everybody home happy. Yes…he could do this. And would be rewarded with another chance to keep Merlin in his care.

"Please, father. Let me handle my consort. I know how I can get this whole thing settled." Arthur said softly underneath his breath, knowing he was about to make an epic fool out of himself. And knowing he was going to bloody kill Merlin for doing this to him. Before his father could react or stop him, Arthur was already skirting around the long table faster then his feet could keep up with him. He nearly tripped with his haste to get to Merlin, but with any luck, it looked more dignified then Merlin had looked when he face planted. And it seemed to take him far too long to get down the line of his men forming down the center of the room until he reached his consort's side. Without hesitation, Arthur snatched up Merlin's scrawny arm, ignoring the way the boy yelped and attempted to pull away. But Arthur held firm, feeling as the tightness in his gut eased a little now that he had Merlin in his grips. And Arthur flashed an exasperated smile towards the Mercia men, dragging Merlin down the length of room, having to jerk Merlin up when he nearly fell over again, "Can I not leave you alone for two seconds? I bet you've already started up with your little gin habit again, haven't you? I bet you thought I wouldn't notice. But you always do get a little crazy when you start drinking."

Arthur said this as loud as he could, trying to make this out as a simple drunken mishap. It wouldn't be the first time any noble had made a fool out of themselves because they had gotten into too much wine. Arthur might not have a sword to take down any man that made a move on his consort, but he did have his wits about him. And he would use them with full advantage to get them out of this. He would rather all these people think he had a drunkard as a consort, somebody that often made a fool out of himself because he refused to stop drinking the drink of devils. Which should only be drunken in moderation. Not excessive. But it was either that or allow his consort's head to be chopped off by somebody other then himself.

And still, Merlin wiggled and fought against him with these soft little hisses of 'get off me', all the way up to the table all of their family had been sitting at. But Arthur didn't care, as wiggling was a good sign. That. And the heat of Merlin and his flushed skin coming through the boy's thin shirt would be enough for Arthur. Because wiggling meant that Merlin was alive. It meant Arthur might still get a chance-if he was able to convince his father he could take charge, for how'd he be able to run a kingdom if he couldn't control one single man-to carry out his punishment plans with Merlin. And the warm skin…only made Arthur tighten his grip around him as he avoided the eyes of everybody watching them. Tugging his boy closer until Merlin was neatly nestled against Arthur, as the prince curved his body around Merlin's to keep him in a safe cocoon of warmth and heat. Arthur would never want to stop feeling that heat…feeling the warm flush traveling all the way down to Merlin's fingertips he bet. But their strange and tight positioning also put Arthur in the perfect angle to speak into Merlin's ear. Something he took full advantage of as he hissed dangerously.

"I honestly cannot take you anywhere. I know earlier I told you not to embarrass me." And Arthur tightened his grip on Merlin's arm as they neared the table. The boy flinched and tried to yank himself free again, but Arthur was able to keep himself content with the idea of what finger shaped bruises he would discover on Merlin's form when he stripped him of his clothing for their first session after everything started to fall into place here. After tonight…the prince wasn't going to bear to let Merlin out of his sight for a single second longer

... he was feeling a little anxious at the thought of the other boy returning to Gaius for even a single night. "And what do you do? You make a catastrophe. You've done nothing but dig yourself a bigger and bigger hole since you have got here. You will be lucky if my father doesn't decide to throw your corpse into this hole and bury you in it after all of this."

Arthur could feel Merlin stilling against him, and the prince hummed against the boy's ear, figuring this might be what finally got to the boy. It couldn't be easy being walked into what could end up being his death. But Arthur was hardly going to tell him he wouldn't allow it to happen. No. That'd only start Merlin up all over again. But now they had gotten to the table with no more injuries then they had walked into the room having. And it was far too easy for Arthur to go on ahead and slip the goblet out of Merlin's limp fingertips.

Perhaps Merlin would think twice, now that his father's ire was what he had to face.

His father might as well have been a dragon. Ready to burn Merlin down if his claims proved to be false.

And Merlin was the Princess locked in the tower just waiting for his demise.

But Arthur wasn't going to tell Merlin that he himself would be like the tower. It's dark stones holding secure to prevent the entire burned down roof from collapsing onto him.

That would just be Arthur's little secret.