A Marriage that Started a Legend

by IJustShowedUp

Follows canon but with my own arranged marriage spin on it. What happens when Hunith makes a mistake and is forced on the run with her infant son? What happens when Camelot knights find her twenty years later? What happens when Arthur learns he's betrothed to a peasant boy? Will Merlin be able to stand among royalty? Will these two different boys survive each other? Review!

119. Chapter 120

FLASHBACK: TO AFTER MERLIN LANDED IN THE DIRT AFTER ARTHUR HIT HIM:

Merlin wasn't sure what had happened at first, he felt as if he had been ran over by a carriage. His body beaten up and sore all over the place, there were literal black spots forming in the corners of his eyes while his ears had a very distinct ringing sound to it that never seemed to fade. He…was that blood…Merlin was sure he could taste the very distinct taste of blood, all coppery and metallic, coating along the insides of his mouth, so thick that Merlin felt as if it could choke him as it slid down his throat. And when Merlin-dazed and really confused as to what was going on-stuck his tongue out to see where all of the blood was coming from, he hissed and withdrew his tongue back into the cavern of his mouth.

Yeah, Merlin's brain was slow and sluggish as he struggled to understand what had happened to him, his lip was most definitely bleeding. With a pretty serious cut going straight down the top and ending somewhere deep in the middle of his bottom lip. But how was his lip bleeding, he thought as his vision started to clear, so that he could look up to get a good look at the clear blue sky ahead of him. And why did it have to sting so badly, the gentle prodding he'd done with his tongue had been enough to make it feel as if a horrid fire had started lapping at his lip. And the bigger question…why did Merlin's face feel as if he had just gotten hit in the head with a plank of board…had Merlin somehow wondered into a construction area. And the even bigger question…why was Merlin on the ground. Had he really been hit so hard, that it had thrown him off his feet…

The pieces seemed to start clicking together, the fogginess of Merlin's mind lifting, when Arthur Pendragon stepped into his view of the sky. An eerie shadow cast by the sun, which caused Merlin to only see the blue irises of Arthur's eyes as the rest of him remained hidden in the shadows. It might as well have been the eyes of a demon, Merlin thought, when recognizing the deep and dark hatred brewing inside of the prince. Hatred that was directed at him, Merlin could feel his inside shuddering, the prince looking bigger and far more dangerous then he had ever looked before. This…this had to be worse then all the times Arthur would forcibly hold Merlin down to try doing weird things to him. Had Arthur really just did what he thought he did…or was Merlin living within some kind of hallucination, where Arthur had finally crossed a line that had always been there between them.

He…Merlin had to be hallucinating all of this. This couldn't be really happening to him…could it? Merlin knew he lived in worry since the day he first heard Arthur's name, that there was a chance this marriage could end up going this way, but it was different when he was living it. Merlin knew the blond had this wicked temper that only seemed to grow in danger as the days passed them by, but Merlin hadn't realized that the two of them have reached this point, where a pot would boil over and one of them would end up burned. Merlin, as it was turning out, was the one that was burned. Merlin knew he had warned the prince that he would not stand for living with an abusive man, and yet, here they were. With Merlin on the ground with a busted lip and busted face…and Merlin could still find no courage within himself to stand up and try fighting a monster like this. There was no fire inside of him, urging him to stand up and fight for his right to live his life without being in a near constant and paralyzing fear of the man he'd been married off too. There was nothing inside of but…emptiness. Emptiness and a dull shock that this hadn't happened sooner.

Merlin had to be the most pathetic man in existence, but the consort shakily lifted his hand up-the one that didn't feel as if it had been broken, as constant shooting pains erupted up his arm-and pressed it to his lips. The shooting sting at just a brush of his fingers along the cut was almost a welcomed relief to have. It grounded him in reality, when he had felt as if he was two seconds away from floating away on the wind, even if floating away hadn't sounded like such a bad idea to have. The only thing bad about it was, while his mind would be gone, his body would be stuck on the ground and unable to escape Arthur's reign of torment. Though, the young boy only removed his fingers from his lips when the stinging of it became too much for him to handle.

And there, Merlin thought as he stared down at the healthy layer of blood coating his fingertips, was proof that he was not hallucinating. People in hallucinating's could not bleed, or maybe they could, what did he know. The hit had clearly addled Merlin's brain, but…he could not stop staring at the blood as if it was a mountain instead of a stream. Was this the part where Merlin dropped dead…or was that just a part of Merlin fading out of reality again. Merlin blinked in a slow and sluggish manner…and he knew. The thought hitting him as clear as the gong of a bell, he knew why he was bleeding so profusely.

Arthur's wedding ring, the one thing the two of them shared that connected them as one…had that been what had sliced his lip open. There was no chance that Arthur's knuckle had been sharp enough to slice him open like this. Merlin tried to remember if he had felt the cold metal of the ring slicing it's way along his face, but the only thing he had managed to do was make his head ache worse then it already was. The only thing Merlin could remember was a flash of skin-the hand of the prince flying at him, he assumed-in the corner of his eye just before it had hit. And then pain, so much endless pain…it would leave Merlin wondering if the physical pain could've hurt less then the emotional. And then darkness…had Merlin passed out? Had he faded into the eternal safety that only a dark emptiness in his mind could give him? If only for just a single second? Or had Merlin just imagined that as well, so his brain could protect itself from the trauma he had ended up living through.

Merlin…Merlin should probably get up, right now…right? He was still pretty out of it, but his mind was clearing up slow and steady. But he latched onto the idea of getting himself out of the dirt as if it was some kind of lifeline, or perhaps a life preserver that would get him out of this before he ended up being pushed under the waves of despair. And though he did try to stand up, he forgot about the pain in his arm-as it had now turned into a dulled ache-and tried using the same arm to push himself up. Merlin dropped back onto his ass in an instant, his bleeding mouth falling open as this wickedly sharp gasp erupted from his lips, the pain shooting up along his arm so intense that it nearly blinded him for a moment of time. And when Merlin was able to come back out of it, he'd curled into himself a ball. Holding tightly onto his arm as he cradled it between his legs, trying to alleviate some of that awful pressure.

What…what had Arthur done to him, Merlin thought when he was choking, grasping for air while he had the blood rapidly staining his white teeth. It was like Merlin was having body dysphoria…he knew that this was his body. And he knew he was in pain. And he knew nothing else mattered other then trying to survive, born out of pure survival instinct instead of any actual want. But he might as well have been a ghost just standing outside his body because…this could not be him…could it? This…useless…and pathetic lump…that would have came up with fists swinging if Arthur ever laid a hand on him like this. But Arthur had laid hands on him, and Merlin felt as if he was down for the count. Ready to roll over and show up his belly for the prince. To show that he was giving up, show he wasn't any kind of threat, show…that Arthur…fuck, Arthur had really messed him up. His wrist…what had Arthur done to his wrist…he was too scared to look at it himself. Scared to see what further proof Arthur had left his body marred up with.

But perhaps, Merlin trying to stand up was one of the bigger mistakes he could have made, because then the prince was talking to him, and Merlin's inside shook like he was nothing but a frightened little rabbit who knew he was about to be a prey for a far larger predator, "You…" Arthur's voice seemed to reflect his anger, the low grumbling roar coming out from somewhere in his chest. And Merlin squeezed his eyes shut and curled himself even tighter, his legs coming up to brush along his forehead, holding his injured arm protectively right between his legs. Anything to make himself a smaller target for Arthur's rage, anything to have Arthur see how pathetic he was…then perhaps he would leave Merlin alone for long enough so he could gather his bearings back together. "You are absolutely nothing to me, Merlin. Absolutely nothing, do you hear me?" And while Merlin didn't look up, and he didn't know rather Arthur wanted an actual answer or was simply yelling at him for the fun of it, Merlin jerkily nodded his head up and down. Yes, yes, he understand. He knew he was not ever going to be anything to Arthur. He was nothing, nothing but perhaps a small bug so Arthur could have the pleasure of squishing him properly. And when the prince continued to yell at him, going in for the final kill, a large glob of spit was erupting from his lips and landing on the top toe of Merlin's shoe. Merlin couldn't even get the courage to wipe it in the dirt to get it off, knowing that moving would only force all of this attention back into him in the worse of ways. So Merlin shrunk into himself, shivering as if he was freezing even if the day was warm, waiting for Arthur to finally get his fill of yelling at him for the day in, "-You are nothing but a two bit WHORE, Merlin!"

Arthur shouted this loud enough for the entire street to hear him, and Merlin's head finally popped up out of his knees to look at Arthur in absolute horror…whore? Was that what the prince had seriously just called Merlin…the boy who had not even gotten a proper first kiss yet? Nothing more then just a common whore on the street…Arthur was breathing ragged but Merlin could finally see the truth in his eyes. Arthur truly thought he was a whore, truly thought he was capable doing those kinds of things that whores did…even if he didn't have the right body parts that a whore should have. What in the world could a boy do, when he didn't have the parts that a woman did…it wasn't as if he could just spread his legs and have another boy find pleasure between them. It didn't work the same ways that a woman's did. Perhaps his husband was simply too mad to be able to think straight. But…Merlin felt as if the air had ended up being sucked straight out of his lungs anyway, and he shakily brought up a hand to brush one of his fingers gently along the busted up side that was once his face.

Merlin slowly dropped his eyes down to the dirt, seeing the ground but not seeing it at the same time. His fingers were pressing along his bruise, wincing away from the pain even though the sting of Arthur's words seemed to hurt him more then his actual injury did. The heat waving off his cheek was not the normal way heat came off of human flesh…it was far hotter then it should have been. Was that what a whore may look like to Arthur? Somebody who walked around the town with bruises on their bodies after a rough night of being all indecent with another. Bruised knees and bruises faces and soreness everywhere…Merlin had never understood how the lovers would go out of their way to hurt their partners when a man and a woman should touch each over reverently. Even a simple touch of a hand brushing against another's should have been enough to spark a connection as a shared smile was passed. But that was the romantic in Merlin that didn't exist anymore. Life was far cruder for such things, and the consort would never share that kind of connection with the prince. But, Merlin supposed…whores were far different and they didn't do the things they did for enjoyment. They did it because it was the only thing they could do to survive in the world they were born in, where people like Arthur didn't try to stop and think for one second, that it was wrong to take advantage of people like Merlin.

Perhaps, Merlin thought as his eyes filled up with this fresh wave of tears, pressing his hand more firmly against his face to feel the harsh throb of his bruise, and to cover it for the most part…Arthur considered Merlin 'dating' another akin to being a whore. Merlin might not be physically able to do any of the thing's a whore could do with another man but…was it not true? That whores often bounded from one to the next…never staying with one long enough to get more then what they were both there for? And as far as Arthur assumed, he was doing the exact same thing. Bouncing from Arthur, who would never give him what he wanted, to another man who might be able to offer him what he did. And Merlin couldn't escape the throbbing in his head, and the ache in his body, and Arthur called him a whore, and…was Merlin a whore? Or would he at least be seen as a whore, since everybody he'd came across seemed to believe in the rumor without even a single shred of proof.

God, Merlin choked as the rising bile mixed with the blood in his mouth, and…Knight Erick certainly thought of him as the Whore, long before Arthur had put an actual word to it. The Knight had tried insisting Merlin go off alone with him, tried to force Merlin into a date because…because…he thought of Merlin the same way Arthur did. That he wasn't anything but a dirty little whore, meant to be picked up and taken out on dates he didn't want to be on…and Merlin was too fucked up to even defend himself properly with anything more then the sarcastic lilt he had managed to work up. If Arthur had been any kind of proper husband, he would have rode in on some kind of white steed and-as soon as he saw Merlin unable to defend himself properly-taken care of it himself. Stand back until Merlin proved he wasn't capable of doing it himself, as Before Merlin probably wouldn't have hesitated to put a man like Erick in his place, and then taking out the other knight for daring to think Merlin as some cheap plaything he could passed around from one date to the next, treated as nothing but being disposable to the man who would be forcing him to do it. But it was Arthur calling him the whore, Arthur who thought he was so cheap that he would run off with the very first man that showed him apparent attention. Arthur, whose opinion of Merlin was so low, he truly believed his husband was the type of man these rumors portrayed him as.

Merlin jolted, his attention being forced back to the present as he remembered he was still in very real danger, when his husband took a threatening step towards him. But, as Merlin held his breath, waiting for the next blow to hit him-would it be another hit across his face? Or perhaps a kick to his gut since he was already on the ground? Maybe a stomp to his face that had enough force behind it, it could knock a few of his teeth loose-he realized it wasn't going to come. Because Arthur had just walked passed him, and Merlin trailed eyes after him in disbelief. Arthur hadn't even looked down at him as he walked by, because…Merlin's shoulders went tight…he really was lower then dirt. So low, all it had taken was one hit from Arthur before the prince was done with him. So lowly…Arthur considered him not worth the added effort that it was going to take to abuse him.

Three months…three months of Arthur yelling at him in his face. Three months of Arthur forcing him down on the odd surface and rubbing against him and holding his down and breathing in his space as if Merlin's breath was his own. The three months Merlin had been there, when Arthur had done nothing but obsess over everything Merlin had done. Where Arthur had gotten himself involved that one time he'd tried to find a job. Where Arthur had dragged him behind the one pillar to hiss at him for being dumb enough to try making a deal with his father that could've meant his life, only to end up trying to do weird things to him by getting far too close in a way Merlin shuddered to remember. The way the blond prince had thrown his cloak over Merlin's head just because they were going to get caught with all the guards looking for him and Arthur probably didn't want to waste his time with all the hassle that would cause him. And a dozen other little things that had happened here or there that Merlin wanted to erase from his memory. And what had it all lead too? The prince calling him a whore, and dismissing him, and leaving him in the dirt now that he had finally gotten in the hit he'd always wanted to give Merlin. Merlin had never felt so cold, had never felt so abandoned, had never felt…like the whore who had just done her job and was expected to get out.

"You!" Arthur suddenly barked from somewhere behind him, and Merlin knew how pathetic he was when his head flung around so fast that his neck seemed to pop. Had the blond prince finally came to his senses, did he finally realize Merlin was pathetic as he sat there in the dirt. Perhaps the prince was going to take him away from here, away from all of the prying eyes that tried scorching his body. Merlin felt as if he would almost welcome the abuse Arthur was sure to rein on him, far worse then a backhand across the face, once they were far away from here. Merlin would welcome the abuse and the trauma and betrayal it brought with it, as long as he was not left alone to pick himself up from the mess of limbs he was in. But Arthur wasn't even looking at him, the prince had his focus entirely on the knight he had accused Merlin of seeing behind his back. "What is your name?"

Merlin, for the umpteenth time, realized how pathetic he was truly, when his head dropped down in dejection. How could he, so badly, want Arthur to go away and never return to his orbit. And yet…also not want to be ignored like he was the whore Arthur had just wrung everything that he wanted from him. How could Merlin be so split in half…he should have been wishing a vengeful death on Arthur right about now. Wishing a dragon would swoop in out of nowhere and burn Arthur's precious kingdom to the ground. Since it was always going to be far more important then he was. And yet, Merlin didn't want to feel like a whore. Merlin didn't want his husband's attention to be sorely on the man he thought that Merlin was dating behind his back. He didn't want to be left alone to deal with the fallout of what had just occurred…the consort didn't want to deal with any of this on his own. Even if it meant looking for reassurance from his abuser, even if it meant looking for his abuser to take care of everything…the other knight who had been watching their fight amused, he suddenly seemed a lot more panicked then he was now that the prince's attention was on him.

"My name…I'm Sir Erick…" Erick reacted quickly enough to having the prince's sole attention, and tried getting off his horse. It could be considered highly disrespectful to not get to the ground, so that the prince and him were of equal heights, while they talked. But Erick's foot got caught up in the stirrup of his horse's saddle, and he nearly face planted in front of the prince, gathering his balance at the very last second so that he landed on his feet. But the brief accident that most people wouldn't have even noticed, caused Arthur to sneer in disgust, already categorizing ever little flaw that the man in front of him seemed to have. The Knight bowed before him, looking down at the ground respectfully. While it may have given him some points among the other knights to be the one thought of as 'doing the consort', it wasn't going to win him any with the prince himself. "My name is Sir Erick sire, and I am the fifth son of the Lagrune family. I have also worked myself into becoming the First Noble Deliverer, and if there is anything you would trust in my care that will need to be taken out of the kingdom, I would be honored to take the upmost care with it…"

Arthur mouthed the name under his breath…Erick…it was a plain and unassuming name, in Arthur's humble opinion. Not the kind of name Arthur would expect one of the knights of his kingdom to have-though he knew at least five different Erick's, this Erick seemed to be the worse of the lot. Merlin had found pleasure with a…Lagrune? That was almost worse then any other family Merlin could have gotten himself right in the middle of. Arthur hadn't made any kind of memorable meeting with a Lagrune, but he knew the name. And just like their fifth son, they were an unassuming family. One of the lesser noble families that often tried to get up in the world by hanging onto the coattails of those that were far more superior. Arthur could hardly expect for Merlin to know that, but it seemed as if the fifth son was just like the rest of their little family. Hanging off the coattails of his consort to try to get an 'in' with the royal family. How pathetic, and how was Merlin stupid enough to fall for such an obvious gimmick.

It was glaringly obvious to Arthur, considering the man had offered his services in the same breath he had offered the prince his name. As if Arthur was so poor, he didn't have a personal runner of his own to deliver whatever he needed. Or he was just insanely proud of his job, which Arthur would seriously doubt. Erick was nothing more than some glorified mail man, as far as Arthur was concerned. Using his knightly status as if it somehow made him better then the servants who went around delivering things of actual importance-like missives or information or news-throughout the entirety of the city. But, Arthur supposed, Knight Erick's duty was not nearly as important as some of the other things he had been getting his hands into.

Namely…Merlin's pants. This knight was…so unassuming and dull, with the job of a runner, and yet, he had gotten his hands onto something Arthur-a literal prince-never had. His fucking moron of a husband had allowed this man to touch him. Had laid himself out on a bed-or had they gone and did the deed in places Arthur would not dream to bring any kind of lover too-and spread his legs wide opened so this fool of a man could lie between them. This man's hands had gone and slid up Merlin's legs, had touched his thighs, had went and pressed his fingers into places Arthur would not ever be able to see. This man, as far as Arthur was concerned, may as well have ruined Merlin. If he was the man that taken the idiot boy's virginity. But, it was very likely that Erick was only one man in a long list of men that have seen sights he would not ever see. Had tasted part of Merlin that Arthur shivered to even think about. Had heard sweet moans and breaths as the consort gasped for more. And the man had most likely delivered on Merlin's sweet plead-with his face as red as a man who had drunk too much mead as he tried to raise his head high enough to see the man between his thighs-for far more than what was being given to him

Arthur would not ever say that he was a jealous man, why in the world would a prince be jealous of those that were less than he was. But Arthur knew that these thoughts would be haunting him for many months-if not years-to come. In what world was Arthur living in, where his consort had stopped all the ridiculous chasing he was doing after Arthur-panting like a starved dog in heat with his stupid favor and stupid crush-and had settled for this guy? In Arthur's world, even if not a thing would have happened, Merlin should have tried bloody harder, if only to stroke Arthur's ego. Hell, Merlin should've tried climbing into Arthur's bed one night when the urge to lay with another had first crossed his thoughts after they'd married. He should have tried waking Arthur up by pressing a line of kisses up his throat. It probably would have ended with Arthur's sword pressed against his throat once he had woken up, but at least the boy would have earnestly tried. If Merlin had been feeling particularly horny, maybe he could have slid Arthur's sleep pants down his hips and tried what skills he had learned in the whore houses to rouse his tired and sleeping cock into action. If Merlin was lucky-or showed an ounce of skill-Arthur might had thought he was dreaming until it was too late to stop himself from releasing down the boy's throat. Marking the insides of Merlin far more then he had from his back hand across the face.

Arthur was not jealous of anything, though the clawing of a raw need to possess Merlin digging around in the pits of his stomach might disagree. But Arthur was willing to admit he was offended. Offended that Merlin would settle for the first random guy, instead of continuing their pointless fighting on rather or not anything real could grow between them though all that fighting had been on Merlin's part more then his own part. He was pretty firm when he had made himself clear to the boy. But if Merlin had ever wanted the pleasure of sitting on Arthur's royal cock, then perhaps he shouldn't have lied about his perceived naivety from the beginning. The prince would have been forced to bed him on the night they ended up wedded. And then perhaps Merlin wouldn't have settled for such mediocrity. Perhaps Merlin wouldn't have gone and crawled into the lap of a man like some needy little bitch in heat, who probably didn't even know how to properly keep Merlin in his place. Knight 'Erick' probably let Merlin run the show, rather then pushing him down and taking it from him as if he really was a bitch in heat.

It was far too easy for Arthur to imagine, now that he knew Merlin was not as innocent as he claimed, and his lip curled into another disgusted sneer. He could imagine Merlin being on top, his legs spread wide to accommodate Knight Erick's broader body. Not the shy lover who blushed and tried to do his best to cover up his body as his clothing were stripped from him one piece at a time. Not the shy lover who blushed as his more experienced loved took the time to give him far more pleasure than he had ever known. No, it was Erick who was the dull one. Nothing like the fierce and vibrant Merlin who had shown up in Arthur's life and completely wrecked it with one incident after the other. It would be Erick who laid on his back, a weak willed one, as the experienced consort jolted his body up and down the knight's length. And taking control of his own pleasure, shoving Erick down if he tried to sit up while he used the length inside of him as if it was only a toy meant for him to pleasure himself with. When it should be the other way…

If anybody ever figured out Arthur and Merlin had not truly consummated their marriage, then perhaps the prince was going to have no choice but to show Merlin how he should be kept in his place. The Merlin in his head would have been the exact Merlin who had stabbed him in the hand with his own quill-which still sat in Arthur's desk with his dried blood covering the tip of it. All fierce anger and twisting limbs and rage urging him to fight Arthur, and Arthur wouldn't be able to do anything other then force Merlin to take it so they may finally get this over with. Arthur would probably end up with no choice other then to throw Merlin onto his bed, where he would lay on top of his back-pinning Merlin down across his stomach-to stop the boy from coming at him with his arms swinging. Arthur wouldn't bother with stripping him of any clothing one at a time, not like a lover would. It would have been quick and dirty, a means to an end rather then a thing meant for pleasure. With Arthur roughly jerking his consort's pants down to tangle around his knees, and if Merlin proved to be too difficult-which he usually did-Arthur would see no problem with using his belt to jerk Merlin's wrists above his head and tie them up.

And Arthur would drive himself forward before claiming the boy as his own, finally. He would continue to thrust into him, thrust until he could only hear the blood pumping inside of his ears mixed with Merlin screaming. The boy should have been used to rough treatment, if he had slept with far more then just this one knight, but Arthur would be rougher then any of them, showing Merlin there was no man he could get this kind of violence from other then Arthur. No man out in the world that could force wrung out screams from Merlin as he grew to crave what Arthur would only give him the one time. No man that would ever be able to satisfy Merlin more in the one night they had together. Because it would be HIM shoving his consort down so that his clothed chest ended pressed down to the bedding if he tried to get up, with his arse hiked in the air for Arthur to take when he needed too. HIM, who took command and made Merlin his bitch. And if Arthur did manage to come with Merlin's pale arse under his hands, it would only be because of the pleasure overtaking Arthur at finally dominating Merlin. At being able to finally shut him up. At being the one…the one Merlin would have been forced to admit was the bloody best he had ever had.

Arthur let a heated exhale escape through his lips before he was dismissing such thoughts. And then he said what would probably be the stupidest thing he would ever say, driven by his own jealousy and irrationality at thinking about whatever he should do next. Not thinking for one second that his own father would have a few things to say about all of this. The one and only concern he had, was hurting Merlin as badly as he thought he had hurt Arthur.

"Knight Erick," Arthur said sternly, bringing his hands up to rest them along either side of his hips. His eyes were more stonier then steel, and it clearly effected the knight when he straightened back up and saw them directed at him. Knight Erick swallowed hard, wondering for the first time, rather or not he had gone too far in trying to convince Merlin to allow him to have a turn taking him. He really had gone too far, he realized, as the prince said, "If you want my consort so bad, then I believe you can have him. I want nothing to do with a man such as him. I do have to warn you though, he's gotten dreadfully boring, and increasingly annoying to boot. So you might actually be doing me a favor by taking him away from my hands."

Arthur couldn't have been more proud of himself when the other knight's jaw dropped open, looking stricken with the prince handing ownership of Merlin over to him. But good, he should be stricken. And he should look horrified at the prospect, Arthur knew better then anybody how much of a struggle keeping up with Merlin was. But that was exactly why Arthur wouldn't be leaving Merlin alone in this man's incapable hands for long. Only for a few hours, perhaps…so Merlin could finally understand how lucky he had been when he had been sorely Arthur's to play with. A Knight like Erick would never be able to put behind the heaviness of a hand somebody like Merlin needed to be contained. Not in a way that Arthur himself could….

But until Arthur came back for his bloody consort-perhaps after the feast happening tonight, before Merlin could run off, or maybe he'll be generous enough to give the boy the night and strike in the morning, when he was still being too sleepy to put up any half decent struggle-this would be, in a way…Arthur washing his hands of Merlin. Announcing to the people that Merlin might be his Consort, but he didn't have the backing of the Pendragon Dynasty anymore. There was nothing that could have been more serious then the prince making that kind of announcement as publicly as he had. It was why Arthur didn't dare look down at Merlin behind him to try and gauge his reaction to such an announcement. He feared, if Arthur did look at him, then the consort would've been able to see the truth written all over his face.

Arthur might have been trained for years in the art of being an interrogator. He might have been trained how to torture a man without even needing to lift a finger-though the ideas he had for ways to torture his consort had never been a part of any education he had been given and would probably be involving far more touching then it should-but nothing could have hidden Arthur's expression. Almost like a wolf, if Arthur looked at his consort, Merlin surely would have seen all the hunger reflecting in his eyes. The raw possessiveness that forced Arthur to resist grabbing his consort by his wrist and dragging Merlin straight to his room so he could experience just how far he had pushed a more dominating man. Arthur had a limit to how far he could hold himself back, but soon…the prince promised himself, like a dark whisper whispering into the back of his mind. Soon…the consort would be his, in a way Merlin had never been before.

By the time Arthur was done with him-as the briefest hints of a more solid game plan started flooding his mind-the boy would be forced to wonder how he had ever ran off to get a thing like 'sex', from another. Arthur would scoop his hands into Merlin's brain if he had too, and warp the boy's mindset to something Arthur was comfortable with having. And there would be nothing for Arthur to worry about, should the day come that he allowed Merlin a bit more freedom to wonder about the castle. Merlin would not be able to look at another man without thinking of the punishments he had endured at Arthur's hands. Punishments which included leaving Merlin tied in uncomfortable possessions for hours at a time. Even punishments that included Arthur flaying the boy's backside with the shiny new whip he wanted to get his hands on. The pain Merlin was going to live through by his hand-the man's mouth practically watered at the thought, and he knew that his expression had to be absolutely devious-would be what was needed to contain the boy proper. Merlin would know-if Arthur did his job right-that his punishment, if Arthur caught him ever looking at another man with sexual desire would be far more intense then what had already happened.

And trust him, Arthur had been thinking of this for so long, he had a list that was a mile long. If Merlin tried to test him or push back on him…he would be severely punished. What brief pleasures Merlin may have found within the arms of all these different men, would not be worth the pain Arthur was going to give him. Arthur knew better now, and Merlin would not have any opportunity to go seeking such a thing. Merlin, for as long as Arthur lived, would not ever feel the hot hands of a much larger man groping him. Would never feel a touch that made him throw his head back and pray to the gods up above for more. Would never get the experience of having a few sweet kisses pressed against his lax mouth as he would release himself into the fist of the man pleasuring him. This, Arthur swore on the rushing heat of his blood roaring along his veins, was never going to happen again.

But, Arthur realized that he needed to get out of here. Long before Arthur's irrationality allowed him to do something he knew would be going too far in the public's eyes. He needed to go before he tried to claim Merlin in front of everybody, or started the painstaking process of chopping off the hand of anybody who had touched his Brat. Starting with the knight he had just given Merlin too….yes, he needed to leave. Now. Before he found himself an iron cattle prod-the stables were not far from here at all-and pushed Merlin until he sat down on top of a barrel or box. Needed to leave before he forced Merlin's pants down his hips, baring himself before the large crowd of onlookers, and fucking branding him on the insides of his thighs. Leaving Arthur's mark forever rubbing against him every time he walked…it wouldn't be a bad idea and this might even deter Merlin from sleeping with anybody else. It would undoubtedly be a far less pleasurable experience for Merlin, if he was constantly reminded of what had happened the last time he had allowed another to touch him.

And that was what Arthur did. His face tight and breathing carefully through his nose, Arthur turned on his heel before storming off, the crowd parting for him without a word as he passed. Leaving Knight Erick still horrified and refusing to look down at Merlin if he passed him by. There were a few things he needed to do, if he was finally going to go through with punishing Merlin. And he could hardly do any of that if he had the boy's big blue eyes trained on him as he followed along where Arthur could watch him. But…it was as the very agitated prince started crossing over the drawbridge to get back to the castle was when he finally noticed something he had not seen before.

…A smear of blood…

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the bridge and forced people to walk around him, as he brought up his hand to look at his wedding ring more closely. The metal of it was looking more chipped then it had been, and the dark red dragon insignia carved into the metal…had a far lighter streak of blood smeared across it. Merlin's blood…it had to be, Arthur thought as he stared down at it with this odd and hypnotized expression on his face. Arthur's tongue felt a bit too thick for his own mouth all of a sudden, and he thought …his ring was absolutely perfect. It would be far better then a cattle prod, and definitely something Arthur could play the idea around with once he got more comfortable being hands on with Merlin's punishment. All he needed was a fire going in his hearth to heat up the metal, not enough for it to melt it down, but definitely enough for the dragon to start glowing in a dangerous light. Arthur had already thought of doing a thing like this before, but now…Arthur's heart jumped up in his throat. An itching of excitement going down his spine at the thought of pressing the heated metal against the inside of Merlin's thigh. At hearing the screams as Merlin would try his best to jerk away from the heat, but Arthur would have a pretty good grip of his knee. Preventing him from escaping him until the branding was done…

For the first time, Arthur realized how…real…all of this would be. It was the patch of blood on his ring that had done it, his first token taken from Merlin's body. It wouldn't be any kind of fantasy any longer. Arthur wouldn't be getting caught up in his thoughts and letting his mind run wild with things that he knew was never going to happen. Arthur would no longer be dismissing any thought he had because of how 'strange' or 'odd' they would be if an outsider caught a single glimpse of what was in Arthur's head. He wouldn't be forced to hide them for fear that Merlin might have one of those 'insightful' moments of his and realize what was going on. No…all of it was going to be so different now. Arthur would literally have Merlin under his hands. Would literally be molding him into what Arthur wanted him to be. Would have the opportunity to teach the boy what bad behavior got him, and what good behavior rewarded him. Arthur would be able to do anything he wanted to Merlin, mark him up as much as he wanted to have him…Arthur would be in control. And the mad rush of power that overtook Arthur, the mad rush of power that said everything inside of him was finally going to start clicking in place…was far greater then anything he'd felt being a simple prince.

Arthur was almost dizzy with it, and he knew he was never going to let this feeling go. Not for as long as he lived, not for as long as he had Merlin under his thumb…it may as well be intoxicating. And addictive, and Arthur wanted-no Arthur needed-more of it. If Arthur had known from the beginning how…good…it would feel to pop Merlin across the face, then he might have done it the very first moment the two of them had met. When Merlin had approached him in the courtyard before either of them had known who the other was. But…it was not the time for Arthur to regret not making these kinds of decisions earlier. No, instead of looking to the past, there was an entire future for him to look forward to. A future with Merlin by his side…

X

Back where Arthur had left Merlin behind in the dirt, Merlin was left with a few problems of his own. He didn't know for how long he had sat there, with his uninjured wrist curling in the dirt to feel the sand crunching between his fingertips. It was blissfully blank for the consort, his mind unable to really process that Arthur had just…given him away. Not even to a good man that could help Merlin in ways nobody had been able to as of yet. Arthur had just…handed him off…as if the consort was nothing more then a broken pair of shoes that had gotten too small and couldn't be worn anymore. Arthur had handed him off as if he was yesterday's news…to a man that was just as crude as Arthur himself was. And then he'd left him here…like a used up whore.

Did that mean Merlin was expected to go with Knight Erick now…did that mean Merlin had been relieved of his duties as consort…somehow, Merlin doubted that. But Merlin shivered at the process of going with Knight Erick. At least whenever he was with Arthur, he knew the prince well enough to know he wouldn't be forcing Merlin out on dates. Not any real one that was for them, rather then a show for the people. Merlin knew what to expect with Arthur. He didn't know what was going to be expected from him if he went with Erick. Arthur, abusive arse that he was…Merlin shivered violently again as he realized he wanted the prince to come back. Would it not be better for Merlin to be with the enemy that he knew, and not with an enemy he would have to take time to learn but already knew he didn't like…

Merlin didn't know what made him remember his situation, but all of a sudden, he could finally hear the rush of sound as it met his ears. Could hear the chittering of townspeople as they talked amongst themselves, discussing what Merlin had just went through. Merlin whipped his head all around himself, his marked up cheek burning as the cold air met his face, but all he saw were people, people, and more people. It was as if they had formed some kind of semi-circle to trap him where he was. Some had confused faces, not sure what they had just seen. Some had devious faces, as if they had enjoyed watching Arthur be the one to push him around and put him in his place. Merlin's heart started to beat rapidly in his chest, feeling caged in. But there was no opening in the wall of people that would allow him to escape, nowhere for him to run without colliding into a dozen or so more. Merlin might as well have been seeing demons instead of people in front of him, everybody blending together in his eyes until it all looked like one blended mess of limbs and sneers. Merlin was the outcast…the one that had broken their prince's very heart, instead of it being the other way around.

Merlin tried to scoot back on his arse, tried to escape them all, but that only seemed to encourage people to take a few steps closer towards. Making Merlin's breath quicken as the semi-circle around him started to close up tighter, his eyes darting all around frantically. Were they…he was convinced that the townspeople were going to come after him. He was convinced that they were going to finish up the job his own husband had unintentionally started. Were they going to try attacking him? Use their pitchforks and make him bleed far more than Arthur had made him? The consort scooted back a bit more, feeling his throat clogging up as he tried to fade into the shadows. If they forgot he was here, or couldn't see him…maybe they would go back about their business. But…once again, the semi circle closed in until there was only a few feet between him and everybody else.

And Merlin's breath hitched, trying to find a familiar face in the crowd. Somebody that would throw their cloak over his head to hide his broken face and guide him out of here long before anybody could try anything. But there was nobody in the crowd who would. There was no Gaius, to lead him by a gentle hand while using his wider body to cover Merlin's up from view. There was no Morgana, who would yell a string of insults and for the people to get a life as she would take him in hand and march him through the crowd with her head up high. There was no Gwen, who would curl her arm through his own, lending him a gentle strength he didn't even know she knew she had. None of them were here, and Merlin was left alone, and Arthur had abandoned him to the wolves and …everybody hated him.

Why…why was Merlin even here? When Merlin was little, he would ask his mother similar questions-why was he born so different from everybody else? Why couldn't he share what he was with his friends? Why did he have to hide what it was he could do even when the odd bandit raid threatened to try tearing their little slice of home apart-and she would simply ruffle his hair and given him a tired smile. And explain that it was not her place to question the decisions of those whose power far exceeded her own. If it was the fates themselves who deemed Merlin special enough to be born into a world like theirs with his special brand of magic, then…that must have meant Merlin had a great destiny coming up for him in the future. And then Merlin had nearly convinced himself it was true when he found the dragon under the castle, and he also claimed Merlin had a great destiny. But…why was Merlin chosen to live this curse life? Why was Merlin chosen to live a life burdened with the expectations of destiny and duty or …Consort or Sorcerer. Neither word used for him mattered, it all boiled down to one thing. Merlin would never get a life that he wanted. With life, and love, and friends, and family, and perhaps even…something a little more. So why was he still fighting for it? Why was Merlin still struggling whenever he knew…there was nothing left for him.

Merlin bent forward, his shoulders shaking as he tried to do his best to hide his head between his knees. But he scooted back at the same time, and he froze, his spine went far more stiffer then a steel cable as he bumped into something right behind him. Something hard, and unmovable, and the small consort knew exactly what it was before he had opened his eyes….Knight Erick. Knight Erick, who probably had his own nefarious reasons for wanting Merlin after he had been just given permission by Arthur himself to do with him as he will. Knight Erick, who was probably going to drag his skinny ass up onto that horse and take him somewhere where the two of them would be alone. A rundown shack, or one of the far too many abandoned houses that had been spread across the lower town? There was plenty of them now, after having the Sickness Plague wiping out whole families at a time. But it would be a place that was dark and intimate, a place Erick would be able to enforce a date onto him. Force Merlin to sit there at the table while he rambled on about himself as if he didn't see Merlin preparing to stab him with a fork to get as far away from him as he could. Force Merlin to eat food that made him sick to his stomach-if it was that kind of date. Or perhaps even…try to force a goodnight kiss onto Merlin as the evening was wearing down.

Merlin's uninjured hand was shaking violently as he brought his fingers up to his lips, trying to muffle the half sob that he knew was about to break free. He might have shown interest for such dates in the past, but…in his mind, the man that sat across from him was already somebody he was interested in seeing more of. The other man, who invited him out to begin with was somebody Merlin already knew he wanted to learn everything about. The man that would see him safely home at the end, was somebody Merlin wouldn't mind trying to be all sneaky and playful as he snuck a gentle peck alongside his lips before leaving Merlin to decide if he wanted more of it. This…this was not how Merlin imagined a first date would go, and…Arthur had already taken so much from him. Merlin couldn't allow him to take this away too…couldn't allow any man to think he was 'easy' and just went on dates that was going to just leave Merlin brawling at the table after the day he had just had. Couldn't allow Knight Erick to have him and force him into such a vulnerable position…

Knight Erick seemed to cast an imposing shadow though, his shadowy form engulfing Merlin's on the sand. And when it looked like Knight Erick was leaning forward-to grab onto him, perhaps-Merlin reacted. In a wild frenzy, acting almost like a wild gazelle that needed to race through the forest to escape the hungry lion that was about to eat him, the small consort shoved himself to his feet. The back of his head had nearly hit Knight Erick in the chin, Merlin vaguely realized as he stood unsteadily on his feet. But like a shot, perhaps like a rabbit instead of a gazelle, darting into the underbrush of a tree to escape the fox wanting to munch on him, the small consort took off running. Ducking into the crowd as fast as his feet could carry him, the rush of air violently stinging the cut along his lip and his wrist crying out in pain as he tried using his elbows to shove people out of his way. Shove the people that wouldn't stop Erick from taking him away, since they refused to make a pathway as easily as they did for the prince.

Now, some people actually did step out of the way to avoid being trampled on by the out of sorts boy. But there'd been just as many who refused to stand aside, who wanted to do their due diligence and deliver Merlin into the Knight hands just as their prince had commanded . But later, when it was those people that complained some kind of…force…shoved them aside and threw them onto the ground before any had a chance to grab the fleeing boy, they would be laughed out of the room. People who had been there would say Merlin'd been nowhere near them when they fell, so obviously, it was them lying, trying to cover up how they were a klutz and had been simply incapable of catching onto their consort. And it was those same tall tales were eventually hushed by others and dismissed in favor for more interesting ones. Not a soul bothered to notice the only thing Merlin had left behind with his escape, were footprints that engraved themselves into the sand as he fled. But give it time and within minutes even Merlin's footsteps were gone from sight, covered up by the others, as the crowd dispersed to spread the word of what happened to others who hadn't witnessed such a graphic scene.

X

Nobody thought about returning their glance to Knight Erick after the boy was long gone. Nobody thought to question on rather or not he took the prince's word seriously and would be now taking responsibility for their consort. Maybe if they had looked back, they would have seen Knight Erick looking down at his foot. Where a single shard of Merlin's ripped up letter had somehow gotten stuck under his shoe. And then perhaps, they would have seen him lifting up his shoe so the parchment could fly, disappearing into the wind until it was far out of sight. Maybe, if they had looked back, they would have seen Knight Erick looking down at the pouch of golden coins that still rested in his hand. The coins that Merlin gave him to deliver a letter that would never be. And maybe they would have seen Knight Erick tucking the money inside his shirt, keeping it for himself.

After all, it was not like a boy bearing the consort title-even if it sounded as if he would be disowned soon enough-was going to need such a thing as gold.

END FLASHBACK

X

And that was how Merlin ended up where he was now. Being perched on the edge of his bed, shivering as if he was going to be frozen solid at any minute now, even though the room itself was warmer then a furnace. His face sticky from all the excess time he had spent weeping, but Merlin didn't wipe at his face, and only kept darting his eyes between the three in the room, trying to do his best to gauge their reaction to the news he had just told them. It seemed almost like that was an impossible mission, nobody showing him what they were thinking about Arthur having just called him a whore. It was Merlin's biggest shame, being mistaken for one, and there'd be nothing worse then knowing his friends would think the same of him. Gwen's expression seemed to be the easiest to note though, unable to hide the horror that matched how she had looked when she first saw the bruises across his cheekbone and eye. But Gaius…his uncle looked almost suspiciously blank, as if he didn't know how he should act to such a thing. Or…he was thinking rather or not it would do Merlin good to know he thought the same as Arthur. Though even Lady Morgana had stopped in her step, hovering in the doorway as she briefly forgot her earlier mission to go after Arthur for what he had done to break Merlin down.

Merlin kept silent, not saying a word to break the silence even though the anxiety rushing through him nearly killed him. What if they didn't believe him? Arthur was their own prince, after all. Somebody all of them had known a great deal longer then they had known Merlin. What if they told him he was stupid for getting all upset about it. That whore was just a word and there was no reason for it to tie himself all up in knots over it. Or even worse…what if ALL of them, his friends, agreed with Arthur, and decided he was a whore in the making. That he should conduct himself better-even if that's what he had been trying to do ever since he entered Camelot for the first time-so words such as 'whore' would not be associated with him. It had pissed Merlin off to high heaven when it was Markus calling him a whore, way back when they'd all been running around trying to stop the Sick from spreading. But it was different when Arthur had said it to him, more meaningfully. Like a brand trying to tattoo itself onto his flesh. Just like the more invisible brands that were already attached onto himself. Merlin Pendragon: Consort. Sorcerer…Whore.

But still, as the silence started to drag on and on until Merlin had his leg bouncing up and down, unable to contain or hide his raising anxiety levels, he did not speak. If there had been anything Merlin had learned, any lesson that had ended with being forcibly drilled into his head…it was not to speak. The prince had taught him that lesson, had been trying to teach him that lesson since the first day they had met. But Merlin supposed it really only took a hit across the face for him to finally understand it. Nobody wanted to hear him speak, or wanted to hear what he had to say. Merlin was surprised he had talked as openly as he had moments ago when he had made his announcement about Arthur's cruelty. But…Merlin should have never said it in the first place. He was stupid to have said anything wrong about Arthur, it was stupid to have said the truth when he fucking knew that things would never go his way. Logically, Merlin knew that this mindset was very wrong of him to have. But…he also knew this was what was wanted from him. And Merlin would bend over backwards as long as he didn't have to face the cruelty of the prince once again. As long as he didn't have to feel the sting of betrayal, as well as the stinging of his hand across his face…

Merlin lowered his eyes down onto his bedsheets, and that was when he knew….the Before Merlin, the boy he had been before he ever walked into the gates of Camelot…no longer existed. That boy would have fought Arthur with every last breath he had, even if he knew he would have ended up in the exact same position he had ended up in-if not worse if he made Arthur too agitated. But the Before Merlin wouldn't have cared, he would have clawed his way against Arthur if he had too. Dug his nails into Arthur's skin as if he was just some kind of inhuman thing. Fought until he had nothing in him left to give, but then again…wasn't that pretty much just how it had gone? Merlin still breathed, but…he didn't have a thing in him to give. So perhaps…he should just forget about all of this. If he was going to talk again, the only thing worth him saying was…telling his friends if he was lying. That there had never been any fight, he had simply tripped because of his own feet-perhaps being a renowned klutz could do him some good…finally. He should definitely tell his friends that Arthur hadn't called him a whore, he had only been lying to try and get another reaction out of them.

Only now, after Merlin reconsidered telling them, did Merlin think….Arthur would not be pleased. It should have been his first thought, to make sure that Arthur was happy. And there was no chance he would be, if Morgana went after him like a torrent. And then…that would only be Merlin's arse stuck on the line when Arthur came for him. His insides shuddered as he imagined Arthur's backhand wouldn't look nearly as bad as what came next…Merlin had been entirely selfish to think about himself and what he was going through. Selfish to not try protecting Arthur from his own actions. Even now, Merlin was still being selfish because the only reason he wanted to tell them it was lies…was because he was trying to protect himself. But…feeling nauseous at the idea of covering up for Arthur but not knowing what else to do to stop what he had lived through from happening again…Merlin started to open up his mouth to tell everybody he had simply been speaking out of turn and because of spite, throwing himself under the carriage, so to speak.

But Merlin had waited too long, had wasted too much time overthinking it-a horrible habit he had started to develop at some point since entering Camelot for the first time, and to now-because another voice came out instead of his own. A much gruffer and harder one that had Merlin's mouth snap shut in instinct-another thing Arthur had tried teaching him, it was not good to interrupt when somebody else was doing the talking. "That is absolutely the end of that!" Gaius' face was turning beat red, his fists going up and down on either side of him as if he didn't know what to do with himself. And Merlin shrunk in, his blue eyes looking more down then any sorrowful puppy would have. Did that mean…Merlin knew that he had been just about to tell them he was lying, but it still ached deep in his soul to know his own uncle…thought he was a liar without Merlin even having to work to convince him he was. And his uncle must be really mad…Merlin found that he was scared his uncle was going to end up popping a blood vessel with how dangerous the shade of red his face had turned was. But…then Gaius was turning to Morgana by the door, and ignoring Merlin entirely, was he going to start apologizing to Morgana on Merlin's behalf, for claiming that her pseudo brother had called him a whore. Merlin ducked his head down further, his shoulders sagging as he tried to smother any sobs trying in vain to come from his raw eyes, "I do apologize, Lady Morgana-" and Merlin held himself all stiffly, squeezing his eyes shut while knowing that this may be the moment that broke his sanity completely. "But it has been quite obvious what we must do. My nephew will not be attending tonight's banquet. And so help me god, if he tries to show up here and take Merlin by force…"

Gaius trailed off his words in a threatening tone, waving his fist in the air as if he was silently saying he was going to be the one to get the next hit in. On Arthur himself, this time. It caused Merlin's head to whip back up, his shiny eyes going so wide, it felt as if they were about to pop out of his head. It was a moment of suspended disbelief for Merlin. Was his uncle…defending him…directly in front of Morgana herself. It was one thing for Gaius to make these kinds of decisions or say these things when it was just him and Merlin, but it also packed a completely different punch when he demanded it of Lady Morgana. Gaius might be the Master Physician, but Lady Morgana was still above him in status. It would almost be considered blasphemy for Gaius to deny her anything in the world she wanted. Like sending Merlin to this banquet to be ogled and watched and sneered at with the giant bruises that covered up half his damn face. And don't even get him started on Gaius punching the prince himself, the man every person he met thought walked on water…Merlin wavered on his seat, eyes flicking between Gaius and Morgana nervous, Arthur would have surely done something about Gaius' new attitude, as he had with Merlin. But how was Morgana going to act in this situation…

Merlin didn't have to wait long, as Morgana turned her head around to look at Gaius, her expression deadly serious with her blue eyes unwavering, "You are absolutely right, Gaius. I cannot, no. I will not. Stand for something like this." said the lady, her voice not raising into a shout like the prince would have. But the calmness only reminded Merlin of the soft and clear blue skies above them, that held a different feeling in the air that indicated a storm was coming. The fierceness in her eyes, like a mother lioness taking care of and protecting her young from the hunter that wanted to use their fur coats for their own selfish desires. Or perhaps, Morgana looked as if she was an avenging angel, Merlin thought, staring at the way her dark hair seemed to swirl around her looking more wild then anything, the dark jewels around her head doing nothing to keep the thickness of it contained. An Angel sent from heaven to protect the boy that didn't deserve anybody trying to save him. "I will march down to see Arthur myself, and it will be my great pleasure to inform him that Merlin will no longer be seeing him anytime soon. He can go and have his fancy little banquet with his father and the king, but I will not have Merlin down there being paraded around the room for their own entertainment. I do not know what I thought to allow Merlin to come down in the state he is in…."

Morgana shook her head violently, the fierceness still within her eyes, but there was something else in there as well…she was regretful. Regretful that for one second, she thought he could make it down the stairs-yet alone make it through the entire evening with the royals breathing down his neck with each and every thing he did-without having a complete and full mental break down. And Merlin brought his arm up so he could wipe the tears forming in his eyes inside the crook of his elbow before they could be seen, his shoulders sagging in relief. And for the first time in a long time, Merlin swore he was breathing right as the tightness in his throat started to loosen up, the taste of air tasting so sweet on his tongue that he could have started crying all over again. The tears were…god, could he say it?…happy tears. Tears of joy and relief, because Morgana hadn't tried to defend Arthur to him, even if she had known him longer. She knew what he'd done was wrong. And even though Merlin had his doubts of it all-when everybody was telling him he was wrong, it was hard to not believe it after a while-he just wanted to bask in this moment for one second. Bask in it, and enjoy the single second where it didn't feel as if the weight of the world was trying to drag him down with it. Because maybe today would be the day…the day Merlin stopped thinking Morgana's royal background made her have the same internal wavelength all the others had. When she had done nothing but prove time and time again, that she was nothing like them.

But then Merlin realized Morgana was moving, turning back to the door…seriously leaving to tell Arthur that Merlin was not going to be listening to him anymore. And Merlin felt it as he crashed back down to earth, his heart seizing straight into his throat as it leaped. And before Merlin could think of it twice, he was throwing himself back up off the bed and to his feet, "WAIT!" His scream could've probably been heard outside the entire chambers, but Merlin hardly cared, as his wild eyes latched onto Morgana, who spun around with the sound of his voice. "Please…" Merlin cleared his raw throat and took a slow step forward, his hands shaking violently at his sides. "Please…don't go. I don't want….just…don't go off and bother Arthur with any of this. I'm fine…I promise that I am fine…"

Merlin wanted to say those words again and again-I'm fine-because if he said then enough, they might finally be true of him. If Merlin kept repeating 'I'm fine' maybe one day, he'd even be able to believe it himself. But his throat threatened to close up on him, as it seemed to do often nowadays. The consort had been a fool to allow himself that single second of hope a moment ago, because hope never lasted. It lasted only until something happened that forced it down so low, it ended up crushed beneath the leather skinned boots of any person who had nothing better to do with their time. Merlin knew how things were going to turn out if he allowed for the Lady to go. And it wasn't good. Not for him. Arthur might be able to adapt if Morgana tried to back him up into a corner…might learn to hit Merlin in places that weren't as visible as his actual face. It would make things easier for Merlin, since he wouldn't have to answer uncomfortable questions when he had clothing covering it. But Merlin also didn't want to go spending his days trying to come up with excuses to explain the odd suspicious bruise that might crop up on him where somebody could see it…fuck, Merlin only wanted to pretend that none of this had happened. But it seemed as if his new friends weren't going to allow him that luxury.

Which was proven true when Morgana's eyes slowly started to soften up, and Merlin tensed up when she strode over the room back towards him, her long purple skirts swishing their way around her legs. And when she got in front of him, Lady Morgana only looked at him. Her eyes wondering all over her bruised up face to take him in, and Merlin looked away when a sour bitterness coated his tongue, his fists twitching along his sides. He could only imagine what she was seeing when she looked at him, if she could also see how pathetic or sad he was. If she could also see the darkness inside of him that wanted to swallow him whole. And Merlin flinched violently, when Morgana reached her hand out to gently brush a few of her fingers along his unmarked cheek, his fists clenching tighter reflectively. Morgana's fingers paused for a second, it was long enough for the shame to wash over Merlin…he'd probably scared her as much as her touch had scared him. It wasn't Morgana's fault that Merlin was just a mess, but it was Merlin's fault that he couldn't just sit here and allow her to touch him as she pleased. Arthur had completely ruined that for him, but…he wouldn't dare say a thing like that out loud. So…Merlin took a heavy breath and forced his body to relax, even though his insides felt as if he was a bowstring that was too tight and about to pop. And Morgana, she put her hand a little more firmly against his cheek, sharing all of her warmth with him as she cupped his cheek inside of the palm of her hand, like one may when they were looking over a newborn baby for the first time.

"Merlin." Morgana said softly, her lips barely opening as she breathed out his name. And Merlin finally raised his eyes up to meet her own, seeing the sadness and the remorse along her face, her eyes full of guilt as she gently rubbed a thumb down his cheek. And the only thing Merlin could think…he'd been the one to put that expression on her face. It felt as if he had just been stabbed directly in the heart, and he could curse himself for not doing better. For not Being better. The Consort should have came home and tidied himself up and acted as if none of this had happened. So he had gotten the backhand across the face that he sorely needed if it forced him to finally listen to Arthur. It wasn't as if it was the end of the world. It wasn't as if a backhand would be the thing that finally did him in the end. "I am…sorry, that this happened to you. And I am ashamed that Arthur had gone this far. I feel I have no choice but to apologize to you on the behalf of the Pendragon family. And swear to you, that something like this is NEVER-" her voice went fierce and powerful as the Lady breathed out the last word. "Going to happen to you again. I mark my words, Arthur will pay for this if it is the last thing I do. I don't care what kind of issues Arthur is having, maybe I should have seen this coming from a mile away. But I didn't, and it's time Arthur knows…putting his hands on you will not ever be acceptable behavior."

Merlin sucked in a harsh breath that seemed to vanish long before it reached his lungs. He wished he could say that the Lady was right, that Arthur putting his hands on him was the wrong move. But…Merlin knew that it wasn't. The only thing Merlin had done was push and push and push, always trying to get his way or do things that he knew he shouldn't do. All Arthur had been doing was…correcting him. Yes, that was it. Arthur was correcting him, making sure Merlin knew better on how to conduct himself around others. Why, it was only a miracle that Arthur hadn't snapped long before now, it was a miracle Merlin had only walked away with a broken face and a fractured wrist. It could have been so much worse then all of this if Arthur was truly mad at him instead of just trying to …correct him. It wasn't as if Merlin had done anything to try making things easier on him. How many times had the other man yelled at him or thrown him around because of a thing Merlin had done. Clearly, Merlin hadn't been getting what he was saying, and Arthur needed to step up his game so that he could. That was hardly Arthur's fault. And it hadn't been Morgana's either, for not seeing it coming like Merlin had.

But once again, Merlin knew better now then to argue with somebody else, after having once again made the mistake of speaking out of turn. Especially since Morgana was using her…it was a voice he didn't think he had ever heard her use before. Not in his presence, at least. The closest thing that he could think of was…when he had been spying on Gwen's sentencing for witchcraft, and Morgana had stepped in with fierceness to try and defend her. That kind of Morgana was not the Morgana that was his friend. Not the one that he had daily lunches with everyday when he had first arrived within the city. Not the one who had taken those lunches of theirs later on, and used them to give him all of those impromptu lessons on how he should conduct himself when facing off against the council and the court as a whole. This…this was Lady Morgana. A powerful figure in her own right, a woman that had the ear of the king himself, even if she would often be dismissed because she was a woman. But that had not stopped her from becoming the most powerful woman in all the kingdom. And this Lady Morgana, would not be one that was ignored.

And then, Morgana smiled at him. A thin lipped smile with a touch of cheekiness to it, though Merlin could still see all of the fierceness in her eyes that she tried to hide behind a far more calm demeanor, "I only regret that we won't finally get to see you all dressed up for the banquet. Wearing the silks that deserves to make you shine." Morgana's smile turned a bit more sad, she had really been looking forward to getting him ready with Gwen. A moment for the three of them, this safe space where they could forget who they were and just have fun and laugh and dress Merlin up. Try different colors on him, and see if they could convince him to wear just a bit of makeup to make his eyes pop. She had been just dying to see him wearing the ensemble of a consort, to see the other boy stand out among the others. To see him…shine in a way he hadn't since Arthur had dug his hooks into him. "Merlin…I think that you would have looked really beautiful." And then Morgana looked over her shoulder at Gwen encouraging her silent friend to step forward and agree with her, "Don't you think so as well, Gwen?"

But beautiful or not, Morgana knew when somebody else was just…done. Done with life, or done with everything in general. And Merlin was exactly that, just…done. She could see it in the weariness surrounding his eyes, the tired slump of his shoulders, the way he held himself as if he could curl into a ball at any second of the day. Yes, Merlin was done. It didn't stop her from wishing that things were different. From wishing she and Gwen had came up here with Merlin's trunk of new clothes, and-in a different universe-have Merlin jump up with excitement to greet them. With no injuries covering his body, with the brightest grin on his face as he started to drag out what was in the trunk so they could go through all of it together. In Morgana's little universe, Gwen would have made Merlin look so handsome, with clothes that fit around his body to perfection. With his hair curled snug around his ears, and his skin practically glowing from how happy things were for him. Morgana would have gladly made the consort the star of the show, giving everybody a night to remember as the two of them confidently strutted into the great hall as Gwen followed behind them grinning. And in Morgana's little fantasy, she could just see Arthur standing on the other side of the room, gaping as his eyes landed sorely on Merlin. His face the perfect expression of…how did 'he' get so lucky to be the one that had Merlin on his arm tonight. And on every other night…but of course, the Arthur in her universe would be a gay man that wasn't an arse. And Merlin would've been the one to thrive under his gaze, paying no notice to others who were just as captivated as the prince himself was…but Morgana had not ever been the type to live her life dreaming in fantasies. And in reality, the prince was the one that had hurt her friend…

Gwen could see what Morgana was doing, could see that she was laying the foundations to a reasonable distraction…and by the time Merlin noticed her presence lacking, she'd be long gone before he could stop her again. And so, Gwen stepped up to plate, taking Morgana's spot in front of Merlin as she hummed thoughtfully, "You know what, Morgana, you are absolutely right. Merlin would look beautiful in anything, it really is a shame nobody else will see what we do." Gwen spoke softly, hearing the subtle creeping of footsteps that came from behind her, indicating that Morgana was leaving the room as silently as they had came. But when it looked as if Merlin had heard this as well, and started to look over, the handmaiden reacted, bringing two of her fingers up to rest on Merlin's soft but gaunt chin, and moved him over so that he was looking back down at her. Gwen tried not to stare at the bruises marring the right side of Merlin's face-she had to wonder rather or not he could even see out of that eye at the moment-but her eyes kept being drawn back to it. Not able to comprehend how anybody could do something like this to somebody they claimed they loved… "You have great coloring. Those blue eyes paired with that dark hair…I think any color outfit would have looked good on you. And if you take two seconds to look over your bone structure…just the cheekbones alone. I know several nobles that would kill just to have been born with those…"

And Gwen wasn't lying just to be nice to to make her friend feel better about himself. She was honest and earnest in the way that most people these days just…weren't. Gwen could see the odd beauty Merlin had on the outside, but it'd been the kindness she had seen in his eyes the first time the two of them had ever met-when Merlin had been tied up in the stocks, and had been able to laugh it off instead of silently seething at being caged up-that had sealed the deal for her. It was far rarer to find a beautiful soul then it was to find any beautiful man. But Merlin clearly didn't believe her, since he looked away from her. Merlin only wished what she said was the truth, but…he knew he wasn't beautiful. Knew the only thing in the world that could make him look far better then he did now, even more so with the soreness of his bruises erupting across his face every time his facial muscles would so much as twitch, would have been some kind of bag being pulled over his head. At least Merlin would have had a whole mystery vibe thing going on, people asking why he wore the bag instead of asking who had hit him. He continued staying silent finding not one urge to try fighting her on something he knew wasn't true.

"Perhaps," Gaius suddenly spoke up from his corner of the small room. As much as he enjoyed Merlin's friends making him feel better-or trying too, at least-there were a couple of things that Gaius would like to get done. He still seethed on the inside, but…his nephew's comforts and privacy, as well as his health, came before his own vengeance against the prince. "We should start getting you ready for bed." It was starting to become nightfall outside, but it was still earlier then most people would go to bed, but that hardly mattered to Gaius. He figured a night of rest could do his nephew a world of good. Safe in his bed where Gaius would be able to keep a steady eye on him, instead of stuck wondering rather or not Merlin was in trouble if he had ended up leaving these chambers for the banquet. But Gaius didn't have to worry of such things. His nephew would stay right here, forever if he could keep him away from Arthur, the physician decided as he started looking along the floor for something Merlin was able to wear. But his nightshirt was nowhere to be seen, as Merlin had did far more damage to his room than Gaius had thought he had in his first impression of the room. This was all going to have to be cleaned up, but Gaius would do it for Merlin in the morning. For now, thought… "And after you are all dressed for bed, I can perhaps finally see to that wrist of yours."

Gaius sure hadn't forgotten that Merlin's wrist needed to be tended too before he went to bed, but Merlin sure had. The consort glanced down at the wrist in question, he could just barely feel any pain coming from it. Which was either a good sign as that meant the numbing cream was doing it's job. Or a really bad sign and something was wrong that could cause irreparable damage. But Merlin didn't tell Gaius he could not feel any pain, Merlin would deserve to have his wrist forever messed up. To have his movement stalled because the bone wasn't set in the right place, or to have lower motor control of his fingers…it would definitely make sure Merlin knew the consequences for stepping out of line with Arthur again. So, the consort simply nodded his head in agreement-because, yes, he did need to get ready for bed. That sounded a good deal better then the alternative was…attending the banquet tonight. Merlin didn't try to help though, with trying to find a nightshirt to wear, as Gwen and Gaius spread out to search the small space. As far as Merlin was concerned, he would be perfectly happy-as he sat down like a heavy lump on the edge of his bed, making the straw mattress creek under his little weight-to go to bed wearing what he was wearing right now. Dust covered clothes and boots and all, as long as he had a chance to rest his tired eyes.

But for such a small space, it seemed pretty hard for them to find a nightshirt, as Merlin watched them with dull eyes. He saw Gaius digging out the bottom drawer of his closet to see if it had gotten lost in there. He saw Gwen kneeling onto the ground-being careful not to put her knees down since it was covered in glass shards still-to lift the bedsheet that he had jerked off the bed during his earlier panic and was now just barely hanging onto the edge of it, so she could look for his nightshirt underneath the bed. But at some point during this searching, Merlin's eyes fell heavily onto the trunk that still sat ominously in the center of the room. It sounded like such a good idea at first, he thought. To just say to hell with it all and ditch the banquet. But now, now that there wasn't Gwen, and Gaius, and Morgana in his face telling him that it was a good idea…now that he had a moment to think about it…he was starting to wonder rather or not it actually would be a good idea.

How long would Arthur wait for him before he realized that Merlin wasn't coming? How angry would he be after coming to the realization that he had been, essentially, stood up by Merlin. Arthur wasn't an understanding man, he would not care that Merlin just needed to take a moment to…wrap his mind around what happened earlier. Hell, Merlin still thought he was walking around in some kind of dream world, in a fog of misery…where the soreness of his body was because of some other nonsense activity he couldn't think of right now. And not because of the abuse he had suffered at Arthur's hands. Morgana, Gwen, and Gaius might act as if they can protect him. They might even be convinced that they could actually protect him. Gaius could talk all about how this was the last straw and enough was enough, and Morgana could rage until the cows came home and Arthur actually started to become a human being, and Gwen could rub his arm up and down in hers to calm him down when he ended up with another panic attack because of Arthur, but…none of it was going to matter. Arthur couldn't be stopped, he knew that now. So…shouldn't he be doing everything he could with his limited power to stop the fallout long before it had a chance to actually occur? Even before Merlin opened his dry mouth, he knew what he said next would not be well received.

"I…think I need to get dressed. For the banquet, I mean…"