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!

127. Chapter 128

Merlin Pendragon thought he'd been doing very well, thank you very much. All things considered, Merlin thought he was actually doing splendidly well. Sure, there had to be a good few…thousand ways this could end badly. But whenever one considered how Merlin was still standing on his two feet and had no fresh bruises and had no recent trauma crippling him to death….this was probably the better scenario he could've hoped for. Or the worse, considering Merlin had 'wanted' to see the prince behave rashly against him, just to stop all this emptiness inside of him…to make him feel anything that was not the void threatening to swallow him whole. So he wasn't constantly walking around as if Arthur had taken some rusty knife and carved out his insides.

But Merlin was still willing to consider the beginning of the worse night of his life as a win. He hadn't dug his nails into his arm yet, hadn't torn open the old scars and made all his blood run fresh and red and vibrant down his arm. Though he attributed that to the 'one, two, three, four, five' he had been constantly rapping against his thigh, refusing to stop even as he grew tired. He would always prefer the constant aching of his fingers, rather then the alternative. Which had been allowing the darkness to swallow him, as if he was just the appetizer to the main course. Which in turn, would have left Merlin sitting at the bottom of the stairs, staring blankly at the wall as he fell into yet another depressive episode. He wouldn't even acknowledge Arthur if the prince tried kicking him in the ribs to get his attention. At least feeling the rough crunching of bones breaking would feel better then…life.

But the anger had been a nice change from the emptiness in him. It stroked an inner fire inside of him, it made something he hadn't felt in a long time roar it's ugly head. Like a lion or tiger rearing back its head and roaring its anger in the face of the one that had wrong them. It wasn't often that Merlin felt the righteous anger-or irrational anger, depending who one asked-and he had wanted to hold onto that feeling for as long as he lived. Wanted to cling onto it, because he was scared it would feel like sand and drip through his fingertips far sooner then he wanted it too. Because anger would have always been better then allowing the depression to get one back over on him…right?

Merlin 'had' been willing to consider this night a win, as long as the pulsing waves of anger accompanied him inside this banquet. But then Lady Clarissa had shown up, and she had taken command of the conversation in one fell swoop. Done it so fast, Merlin felt as if his head could have spun in circles and circles. And whatever spike of courage he'd clung onto-trying to channel his Before Arthur self back to the surface-fell off to the wayside. The only thing he'd been able to see, as if he had tunnel vision, was Clarissa's hand being laid so casually on Arthur's arm. Clarissa's award winning smile that flashed brightly across her face as she looked up at the man in front of her. And her brightly colored lip forming words he couldn't understand over a humming that echoed inside his eardrums. Like somebody was trying to beat a drum into his skull.

Not even Arthur's sudden glare on the orange clad girl who was accompanying Lady Clarissa, could have shaken Merlin more then Clarissa's presence did.

Was this it…was this the moment Clarissa ruined everything for him…was this the moment Clarissa shared with his awful husband just how horrible Merlin was…those were just small examples of the multitudes of thoughts, and gruesome level of self loathing that nearly knocked him on his backside as it washed over him like crashing waves. Every single time he'd seen Clarissa say something new, his stomach wanted to try rebelling against him, clenching tightly enough that he knew he was about to be sick. Every time Arthur denied her in the stupid way nobles did, playing hard to get when the consort knew already that Clarissa was preferable to him, he waited for Clarissa to get mad. Mad enough to start spewing all his secrets to Arthur. And then the prince would know just how much of a coward Merlin was…knew he was weak enough to take the coward's way out.

Since living in the world was meant for far stronger people then Merlin was…

Because Clarissa knew things about Merlin that not even his Uncle Gaius knew. Or Gwen. Or Morgana. And especially not Arthur Pendragon. She'd bore witness to what had to be the consort's greatest shame to date…had seen the markings all over his arm. Back when Merlin first discovered pain and the brief relief it would carry with it. When Merlin had been way too overzealous in his new discovery, and had been drawing forth as much blood as his nails could drag out of his arm. It was an impulsive decision to carry on the trend, even when he'd been in the presence of the Lady, and the other woman that had been shoving decorative forks underneath his own nose. And because of that impulsive decision, Clarissa had made sure to let him know she had seen the fresh blood as it stained under his fingernails. Had been sure to let Merlin know that she knew about his little habit of…hurting himself.

And with one little word…suicidal…Arthur would know of this as well. And Merlin could not have that. He didn't care if the prince killed him. He didn't care if Arthur ended him in front of an entire crowd, just as he had abused him in front of an entire crowd. Arthur would live the rest of his life thinking he had been some random peasant that had gotten way in over his head and said the wrong thing at the wrong time, and to the wrong person. Arthur would need never know how he'd goaded the prince into taking his life. Arthur would need not know Merlin had been secretly begging for the sweetness of death and it's cold embrace. Arthur never needed to know it was Merlin who orchestrated his own death from the side.

But Clarissa was holding too much power for Merlin's liking.

"Perhaps your friend is in desperate need for some of your immediate attention." Arthur said in a tone so sharp, it could have pierced through a dome made of pure magic. It forced Merlin to finally drag his eyes away from Clarissa-and a shot of worry seared through his bones, because surely this was going to be the tipping moment for Clarissa, the moment of revealing her hidden hand to the prince-to look at the other man. But Arthur for once, wasn't trying to stare him down or look into his soul with his piercing eyes, making the consort feel as if he was laid out naked on a table, being prepped to be dissected like an animal. The prince was instead, staring down Clarissa's friend, and Merlin frowned, switching gazes back and forth between the three people. And feeling like he was strangely, being kept out of the loop about what's been going on while he'd been staring at Clarissa. But Arthur was all drawn up, tenser then the string of a crossbow, and Lady Clarissa's friend's head whipped up, blinking rapidly with all of the attention suddenly on her. Merlin knew just how bad it was to have all of the attention…attention would never make anything good happen. "But again, I really must decline your invitation. My consort simply cannot be left alone. I am sure you understand how terrifying these new experiences could be. Especially for one not raised in the life, as we were."

Arthur's voice rang out with a certain sternness that would leave no room for argument, his light blue eyes looking to be almost stormier then Merlin's as he continued staring down the orange girl. As if she was nothing more then this flea he would be more then happy to squash under his boot. And it caused Lady Orange girl to fret, her hands starting to wring together…Merlin fought the urge to do the same. Unable to understand what orange girl could've possibly done to make Arthur so upset with her. Instead, Merlin rapped his fingers against his side again 'one, two, three, four, and five' and he watched as Clarissa nodded her head. The girl looked as if Arthur had just given her some sage advice that she needed to carry with her for the rest of her days. Merlin didn't trust it though, because why wouldn't the lady make a play with the hidden hand she held? What reason would she have for not telling Arthur everything Merlin never wanted for him to know. Perhaps she was waiting for the right time…but what would be more right then when the prince actually rejected her for once. One two three four five…Merlin wasn't under any delusions.

His husband could call him stupid everyday of the week. But Merlin knew Arthur was only rejecting Clarissa because that was what his father wanted. But if Arthur was able to make a choice for himself, Clarissa would have been in much faster then Merlin could be out. Arthur had said it himself…he was not able to trust Merlin being alone. Or he would have most likely ran off with Clarissa right now. Merlin's face twisted in displeasure. Perhaps Arthur was able to trust Clarissa to do whatever show he was expecting for Merlin to put on for all of his royal companions. And she could do it without having the evidence of abuse written all over her. Clarissa-for all of her faults, going after married men like the whore his prince would insist he was until their dying days-would always be a true born lady. While Merlin…was not. And all the men he'd been said to be dating behind Arthur's back, only seemed to emphasize how common he was. There was nothing in this world, that was more common then a greedy little whore, or at least that was according to Arthur.

Before another word could be exchanged, Lady Orange had clearly became distraught enough underneath the dark and penetrating gaze of the prince. Because she hurried forward and grabbed onto Lady Clarissa's forearm, her tight fingers causing the lady's lilac dress to wrinkle. Lady Clarissa gave her a deadly glare, silently demanding to know what orange girl thought she was doing by trying to drag her away from her would be prince. But orange girl didn't say a word, not until she dragged Lady Clarissa off to the side where neither Merlin nor the prince would be able to hear them. Before the orange girl started whispering urgently into Clarissa's ear…it was more then likely, Merlin figured, that the Lady in Orange was currently trying to convince her friend that they should leave the hall before Arthur actually did something to her.

But Merlin would not be able to say he blamed her…since he could understand the sudden urge to flea while he was still able too. Probably far better then anybody else could, with the constant 'fight or flight' reflex warring inside of him for dominance. But it was pretty hard not to flea, whenever the prince looked as if he was in the mood to rip off a person's head…with his bare hands. Leaving all the human meat and the muscles and the tendons and the veins and the blood to spurt across the floor. Stuck hanging between the body and the disembodied head that had once been it's home…he just had to keep counting. Keep counting…one, two, three, four, and five.

Merlin watched the two girls whispering together for a few moments, the orange girl with her back to them while Lady Clarissa kept constantly looking over her shoulder towards the two of them, as if making sure neither of them had went and disappeared on her. Or more specifically, to make sure Arthur hadn't gone and disappeared on her while she was busy dealing with her friend. Merlin doubted very much that Clarissa cared rather or not he disappeared. Hell, the other lady probably wished that he would disappear. So she could have more unfiltered alone time with the prince, without him getting in the way again. Apparently stalking around his own husband's bed chambers that one time, hadn't been nearly enough for Lady Clarissa to be pleased with. She wanted to have more…but she couldn't…and Merlin just realized it was him who was now alone with Arthur…

Unfiltered alone time.

Or as alone as they were going to get with the two girls off to the side…

Merlin's stomach dropped straight to his feet, as if it'd been weighted down by a particularly heavy stone. And alright, he had been alone with Arthur before Clarissa'd interrupted the two of them. But things were different now. Merlin had been running off of mostly adrenaline and his rash decision to just dive right into his crap with Arthur. But all of that adrenaline seemed to be gone, leaving Merlin sick in his veins. And he just needed to get out of here. So maybe, if he could get to the banquet all himself…he could escape from whatever was going on between Arthur and the two girls. It was one thing to try goading his husband to land the killing blow. But was quite another to be sucked into whatever drama was going on now…

But as Merlin slid backwards, his eyes planted firmly on the form of the prince, he was half expecting for Arthur to zero his gaze directly on him. Merlin was just getting out of range and he knew how much Arthur hated not being in control of what he was doing…but Arthur did nothing. He didn't seem to even notice Merlin was getting further and further out of reach with every step he took. Hell, Merlin could see Arthur had his nose flaring, still glaring daggers at the orange clad girl. Damn, Merlin thought as he stopped in place…the other girl must have 'really' done something to piss the prince off if this was his reaction. And if this was his reaction towards the girl-Merlin swallowed the bile threatening to spew from his lips, and forced his clenching muscles to become steel-how mad was Arthur going to be when he discovered Merlin had done a disappearing act on him?

And sure, Merlin wanted Arthur to be mad at him. It was the only way Arthur was going to land the killing blow that he'd been after this whole time. But he was hardly going to do it in the middle of the grand hall with all of his people paying close attention to them. So, maybe going to the grand hall wasn't the best idea. But neither was staying here, because again, Arthur was hardly going to do anything if Clarissa and her orange clad friend was hogging up all of his attention. It was a toss up, what he should do…but he could feel himself starting to waver. Starting to chicken out of going inside the grand hall…it would only prolong his torment during the next several hours. Why go, when he could might as well at least try to finish things off here and now. Save himself from what was gonna happen the second he stepped into that room…it was only a matter of time before Clarissa and the orange girl left them alone, right? Arthur had already made it clear he'd not be going anywhere with Clarissa…

…Fucking hell. Merlin wanted to scream and curse until his face turned the blue hue of death, when he realized he had already talked himself into staying. And staying meant he'd need to get Arthur's attention-it felt as if bugs were trying to crawl underneath his skin at the thought-because of just how strange a thought it was. Merlin usually never had to do anything to get Arthur's attention. The prince usually ended up being just…there. Waiting in the woodwork, and trying to crawl up Merlin's arse because he knew how uncomfortable it made Merlin. But not today, it would seem. Today, it would be somebody else's turn to have Arthur running after them…if only Merlin wasn't on a mission. He might've allowed the orange clad girl to have her turn with Arthur.

"You know," Merlin started slowly, creeping his footing back towards Arthur's side, once again fidgeting with his sleeve to make sure his splint was completely covered up. "I never thought I would see a day like this come to pass." His voice was no softer then the sound the wings of a dove would be making as if flew pass them. He didn't look at Arthur, but he did watch the girls the same as Arthur was, not even sure if the prince could hear him. But he could see Clarissa toying with the darker purple strings holding her bodice together in between her breasts, staring with half lidded eyes towards the prince as her friend continued hissing at her. It became no wonder if Arthur wasn't listening to him. Why would the prince listen to him, when he could stare at the pretty girl in front of him who wanted his babies, and was already toying with the idea of undressing for him in the middle of this hall …and yet, Merlin was the one being scorned. But Merlin still continued, "…The day you decided to pass up the chance to do anything with Clarissa. I'm sure she would have made far better company then I will-"

Merlin cut himself off abruptly, his voice catching inside his throat somewhere, when he turned to look at the prince and realized Arthur was already looking at him. When had Arthur turned his gaze onto Merlin? At what point did Arthur decide looking towards the other girls, were not as interesting as he found looking at Merlin. Like a snake charmer trying to force Merlin into a hypnotizing state with the steel reflecting in his blue eyes. Merlin could have sworn he had just seen into the man's soul, and what he saw there frightened him. He could not see anything. There was no soul, no life…he couldn't see the usual anger in there either. It made this cold sweat break out along the back of his neck, causing the silken top to hug and cling around his armpits.

Was all of this because of the orange girl? It hardly seemed real enough. Perhaps this was some alternative universe the consort had fallen into, where somebody else made the man more angrier then Merlin ever had. And the facts seemed as if it supported this theory, as he was opening and closing up his mouth silently. No words being drawn forth with the pipe sized hole his throat had became. So much for-hell hath no fury-if Merlin couldn't even jump over this hurdle…

"…Of course I would pass up anytime to spend with Clarissa, when I can spend it with my consort instead." Arthur said in this silken tone, something that was as smooth as butter as it tried seeping into Merlin's cold bones. This was the same way Arthur had spoken to him when he had said Merlin was being 'cute'. And it forced Merlin to swallow over the lump in his throat, seeing something darker then hellfire shifting it's way into the prince's eyes. Merlin may have sworn to strike Arthur down with all the hellfire he could. But Merlin felt as if it was the prince who was lightning the fuse within him, just waiting to see the moment Merlin would explode. Hell, once when Merlin was innocent and naive, he might have thought Arthur was being sweet on him. And what was sweeter then denying his part-time lover his attention, when he'd keep his focus sorely on his consort. But Merlin was right not to trust that false 'sweetness' when the prince turned back towards the two girls, his expression once again going blank. "I think you know as well as I do, that my father wouldn't approve of my attendance with Lady Clarissa. Like it or not, we're both in this together. And together, we will stay."

Merlin frowned deeply, and he followed his gaze back to the two girls, not really seeing them as he stared into the space around them. The pang in his chest felt as if he had a knife being shoved straight into his heart, ripping apart the veins holding it together, and stopping his blood flow. How was it even possible for Merlin to hurt this much? It wasn't as if he had thought Arthur was about to drop to his knees and start professing his undying love for him, giving him sweetness in his apologies over his atrocious behavior. But did the prince also have to insist on reminding Merlin….they were doing all of this only because the King commanded it. And whatever the king wanted, was what he would get. Even if the cost of it was Merlin's soul…neatly hand wrapped and being handed over by the loving hands of the son.

And together, we will stay…those words echoed inside the consort's head like a beating drum all over again. It caused an unsettled shiver going down his spine…words so simple and yet, so terrifying. Words like that made Merlin want to lash out, to bite back against what fate decreed of him. But it also made Merlin wonder…together, we will stay. Did that also mean in death? Now, Merlin knew Arthur meant they'd be together in life always, tied through their wedding vows to the other. But once Merlin had passed on from this world soon…would his eternal torment also include Arthur? When he passed on later? It had been said by many philosophers, that married couples-bounded in front of God when they'd pledged their lives together, often ended up spending their eternities together. Their vows strong enough to bind their souls together, reuniting them in the afterlife. But he could not think of a worse hell to live with, unable to escape from his husband even in death. But the part inside of Merlin that wished he could rebel…choked up inside of him as if it was a shriveled up rat.

"…it's kinda funny, if you think about it." Merlin said with this weak smile, brittle and small and still so broken, but utterly ignored by the prince he flashed it too. "How you think it is okay to…let me see…dance with her in public. And then the time you tried to be…intimate with her, in the privacy of your chambers." Merlin's eyes landed on Clarissa, who was once again waving off whatever her orange clad friend was saying as she toyed teasingly with her bodice. Merlin could see the strings loosening, and the top of Clarissa's cleavage started to show, meant to attract the male eye to the valley showing between her breasts. Merlin shot his eyes as fast away from the woman as he could get, focusing intently on one of the stone walls as his ears heated up uncomfortably. But he did keep his eyes off of Arthur as well. He didn't want to have to scrub his eyes out with soap if he saw Arthur ogling the girl he had once tried laying with. "And yet, walking into a feast with her on your arm is suddenly too much to ask?"

Perhaps if Merlin Pendragon had been looking at his prince, he would have noticed how Arthur wasn't looking at Clarissa at all. Not once, had Arthur Pendragon's eyes fallen onto the other woman's chest, having absolutely no interest in seeing the sight being handed to him on a silver platter. Arthur had already been knocked dumb, and fallen over his own feet in every way but literally, when Merlin had first walked into the hall. And seeing Clarissa's little display now, Arthur couldn't help but find it utterly…lacking. Whatever temptation the girl in purple silk may have caused him…wasn't a problem as his interest waned away from her.

Comparing the two…Merlin and Clarissa…was not something the prince had ever thought of doing before. But Arthur also found himself doing it now, and thinking about how strange it was. Merlin was the whore, and he was still dressed more modestly then Clarissa was. Merlin was the whore, and yet…all Arthur could see was his collarbones. Collarbones which made Arthur want to jerk his sleeves up some just to cover it up, hide what was usually hidden beneath his neckerchiefs…hide what he was sure many others had already seen much more of. And yet, with Clarissa…Arthur didn't think twice of the woman, actually. She was utterly dull, as her interest in him became more apparent then it was the first day he had met her.

"WILL YOU STOP DOING THAT AND PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT I AM TRYING TO TELL YOU!" The Lady in Orange was suddenly shrieking, apparently forgetting where she was or who she was in front of, as she lost her temper. Swatting at Lady Clarissa's hands to stop her from tugging her bodice down further, and revealing herself in a classless manner of behavior. "I'm trying to tell you to stop offering me to baby sit HiIM! I am not going to be ditched over your fantasies of winning over the prince's favor! You are lucky that I did not have anybody else to go with, or you would be here on your own! Nobody else is interested in even conversing with you since your own little rumor has started to spread! You have became a pariah in your own right! So the least you can do, while I am lowering myself by being associated with you, is to not throw me off to watch over the apparent whore who'd betrayed Arthur!"

Clarissa's face turned a startling shade of red before she let her hands drop down on either side of her, knowing she was in the same boat as Merlin. Being ostracized by rumors that had spilled out of control by the mass population. But she'd at least held herself like a lady, not losing her composer with the girl's attack on her character. But Merlin wasn't so lucky, as a startled gasp ripped through his burning throat. And his mouth dropped open, after being called a whore from some strange person he didn't even know. And who most certainly did not know him. Merlin's hands shook at his side, while the red hue of humiliation burned across his face. The bruise on his face felt as if somebody had just put a red hot iron metal against him, disfiguring his face permanently instead of just however long it would take for these marks to heal. And the only thing he wanted to do was sink into the floor, and take his humiliation with him.

Whore…whore…whore…that word clawed itself against the insides of his brain as if it was trying to carve a hole into his skull just for him. Whore…whore…whore…it almost seemed to scream at him as if somebody had actually put a hot iron poker against his face for the skin to melt off, until it was all he could hear. And Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, his hands going tight at his sides to stop himself from placing them on his ears to drown out the screaming inside of him. But trying to cover his ears wouldn't stop it from continuing to bounce and reverberate inside his skull. It would only make it louder then it already was…whore…whore…whore….until the voice it was screaming at him in, transformed from the orange girl's voice and melded into Arthur's.

YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A TWO BIT WHORE MERLIN!

Those were the words Arthur had screamed at him just after he had backhanded him. Just after he had abused Merlin for the first time…carving that memory inside of his head as this reminder to never trust Arthur again. And Merlin didn't stop himself this time, bringing his hands up to cover his ears as he squeezed his eyes so tightly, he could see all these white and black dots bursting in the corners of his eyes as if they were stars. YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A TWO BIT WHORE. He just wanted the screaming inside of his head to stop. But as he suspected, he only seemed to make it louder…

…TWO BIT WHORE

…BIT WHORE

….WHORE!

But the screaming wouldn't stop, and Merlin was completely traumatized after what had happened to him. Feeling like he was stuck in that place again, as if he'd been transported to an endless loop where he relieved his worse memory. PTSD, one might call it…Merlin could feel the sand underneath his fingers. The sand he'd been grabbing for purchase after he had been knocked on his arse, the prince's superior physical strength trumping easily over the magic he couldn't use. He could feel the blood from his split lip starting to slide its way down his chin in a straight line, the taste of it lingering in his mouth. The burning sun heating his skin as Arthur walked in front of him, blocking it from view. The gaze of his blue eyes burning even brighter and hotter then the sun had been. But more importantly…the aching loneliness and despair when it became clear that he was on his own.

WHORE…

WHORE…

WHORE…

"EXCUSE ME!"

Merlin's eyes flew open the second he heard different words being said in the same voice, his hands jolting away from his ears as he jerked up. Staring with wild eyes, finding himself looking directly at Arthur's shoulder blades. The prince had somehow ended up in front of him…but Merlin couldn't have begun explaining when that had happened. Merlin could not even say if this was happening to him now. Wasn't he still in the bad place…wasn't he in the marketplace…no. Merlin had to shake his head rapidly, trying to force his heart to a more sedate place. He wasn't there…he wasn't there…he was in a hall in front of the grand doors with Arthur and Clarissa and the Lady in Orange…all three people who seemed to hate on him the most…fuck. Maybe it would have been better to just stay in the bad place, Merlin thought as he ducked his head down so low his chin was pressing against his stomach.

"I don't think I heard you quite right. In fact, I know that you didn't say what I just thought you said." Arthur spoke in this frostily cold tone. The kind of tone that could have made ice form in the bloodstream, eyes promising retribution needing to be made. It had left a nasty taste in Arthur's mouth-sour-after hearing some self absorbed noble's daughter speaking about his consort like that. A teenage girl…no more then just a child, speaking as if she knew one damn thing about what was going on, when she actually knew nothing. And sure, he could admit his consort deserved to be disrespected. Arthur had certainly never said anything when Morris was off being a sarcastic thing, at least not before the servant had walked over the line last month and lied to him. But Morris had also never called his consort a whore…that's Arthur's word. And as such, only Arthur got to use it. Only Arthur got to show a disrespectful tongue like that to Merlin. Only the prince got to show Merlin what his place was. Merlin was still Consort, after all. And no sniveling teenage girl would speak like that in his presence. "Maybe you would like to clarify to me what you said? Did you perhaps just call my consort…a whore?"

Arthur's words couldn't have hit harder then a lash striking the girl's back if she was being publicly flogged for having such an insolent tongue. And Merlin didn't know what to do or say about this, spying over Arthur's shoulder to see how the girl had turned pale and shaking. Shooting frantic little glances over towards Lady Clarissa, who was doing nothing to help her as she tugged the strings on her bodice back in place, making her less modest dress just a bit more modest then it had been. Merlin's brows furrowed into the center of his forehead, trying to figure out what the trick to all of this was. In a perfect world, Merlin might've claimed Arthur was trying to defend him. It would have been insulting, since he could defend himself thank you very much, against anybody other then Arthur, apparently. Or it could have been sweet if that was their relationship. But it wasn't…and Merlin figured this was all a part of the whole 'make Camelot think you are in love so they don't figure out this whole thing was done to satisfy a decades old contract nobody wanted to enforce to begin with, but did anyway'.

That was the only thing that made sense, in Merlin's mind. It couldn't have been for any other reason…because the blond would have never done it on his own violation otherwise. He would have never spoken with Merlin's defense in mind, not the Arthur he knew. And Merlin took a few steps back, as he tried to step out of the shadow Arthur's much broader body was trying to cast over him, as if he thought himself to be a shield who needed to protect Merlin from words that could have been sharper then a blade. There was a violent itching forming under his nails, begging him to give in and claw up his arm all over again. Make the blood drip and all the cuts burn as he tore them open…anything that would make him feel the least bit good about himself. Make him feel as if he was worth far more then the marionette doll he was forced to be, allowing Arthur to pull his strings to wherever he was wanting him.

Because how fucking dare Arthur decide 'now' was the time for him to play the part of a doting husband. He couldn't do it when Merlin might have actually needed him. Couldn't do it when the knight had been trying to drag him away from all the eyes of the public to force him on a date. Not that those public eyes had been any help to him, but still…how dare the prince do this NOW. When somebody else had deemed him as a whore-the bitterness churned restlessly inside his gut-which Arthur had been the one to start! He was the one that had screamed that word for the entire kingdom to hear what he apparently was. Arthur was the one that had basically all but signed his permission for others to do the same, as the sheep and herds of people followed along with whatever the prince had decreed. And Arthur would reprimand somebody for simply following his lead?

But perhaps the prince had alternative motives…wanting to save the noble girl's modesty from the ruin that saying such a big bad word would bring to her. And Arthur was using him as a means to do it…making Merlin feel worse then if he was a used up tissue. He'd done his job, and now the prince was going to throw him away at the first opportunity. But…Arthur wouldn't be able to do anything, should he manage to beat the prince to the punch first…

"I'm sorry, I can definitely see your lips just flapping up and down, but perhaps there is something wrong with my ears, as I cannot hear a single word you are saying." Arthur said in a gentle tone, the kind one would speak to a lost child with…though there was an underlaying tone of mocking to it. The expression on his face was chillier, betraying the gentleness he had been going for. And Merlin found he didn't envy that orange girl at all, peeking over Arthur's shoulder to see that the girl was indeed flapping her lips up and down. No words were emerging though, resembling a chicken as she tried to find some way of getting away from the prince's ire. Only if she knew what Merlin knew…the only chance anybody had at escaping the prince's ire, was outsmarting him. Or using his anger against him… "I believe you are trying to explain to me what you were thinking calling my consort a whore. But I might have simply misheard you? Perhaps you would be far more comfortable if I escorted you to your parents? And we can get this whole mess cleared up after you have explained yourself properly to them."

This was a threat if Merlin had ever heard one. Not any kind of threat worse then being beaten to death like Arthur would do to him one of these days, but a threat nonetheless. But it was hard to deny-Merlin was very grudging about admitting it-that Arthur knew what he was doing. The spoiled girl had clearly never worked a day in her life, and she admitted this loud and horrific gasp, bringing her hand up to brush along her bottom lip as if she could not imagine anything worse. It was then that Merlin knew…this girl would have never been able to live more then a single day, should she ever end up in a place similar to where Merlin had grown up. How many times had he'd been grabbed by his ear and dragged back to his mother's side because he'd been somewhere he was not supposed to be? Old habits were tough to lose though, as Merlin still ended up places he knew he shouldn't be. He had at least tried to make some kind of stand against Arthur though, unlike the orange girl, who crumbled faster then any wet piece of parchment would have.

Her face was literally turning a horrific shade of red from the mere thought of Arthur bringing her to her parents. For one horrified second there, Merlin had thought the girl was only seconds away from having a stroke. The shade of red trying to cover her entire face and clashing horribly with her weird orange dress, could not have been natural. But, the consort supposed a reaction like that should've been expected. With her being the daughter of a noble, and then to be escorted to her parents by the Prince of the Kingdom, right in front of the entire court? And sure, everybody was always vying for the prince's attention. But the wrong kind of attention would be far worse then no attention at all. It would have been the height of embarrassment for those parents, and cause them great shame. Shame to their family name. Shame being cast onto their reputation. The entire family would have probably ended up ostracized the same as Clarissa and Merlin was at the moment. And the girl seemed to realize this, flashing the Lady at her side an angry glare-as if she thought she could lay blame for this at Clarissa's feet-even as her eyes started flooding with tears.

Merlin would never be comfortable with just sitting back and watching as a teenage girl cried herself. But considering the girl had screamed he was a whore moments before, and she didn't even seem sorry about it-only upset because she was being forced to face the consequences by Arthur-Merlin felt he was a little less inclined to offer her any comfort. Since it was her callous words that had almost sent him spiraling to one of his panic attacks, Arthur's voice being the only thing that jerked him out of the state he was in. But Arthur looked as if there was absolutely no compassion inside of him, face blank and disparate in the face of the young girl as she was starting to blubber. The tears streaming from her eyes, and the harsh rubbing she was doing with her fingers only made her dark eye make-up smear in awful patterns all along her face. She resembled a court jester, almost. And yet…no pity came from the prince.

"I didn't mean too, I am so sorry! Sire, please, you just have to believe me! I meant absolutely no disrespect, and I most certainly did not mean to make you upset!" Lady Orange girl had worked herself into quite the state, and throwing herself forward so that she was bent down low at the waist. With all of her voluminous brown hair flopping forward and ruining it completely, the complicated hairstyle nearly falling out. She could recognize that Arthur was not currently the man she'd been hoping to talk to at some point. Perhaps make a funny joke to kickstart a conversation and shine a bit of attention onto her family. She was far too young to hope he'd get rid of his consort in favor of her. But…the Arthur in front of her was clearly Her Prince Arthur. Her Sire. A Ruler, who would not be disobeyed or insulted by the mere likes of her. She'd need to tread carefully if she hoped to keep everything that her family had worked to achieve over the last two or three generations. She would even-shudder-drop to her knees to press her face against the dirty floor like a servant, if he did not cast retribution against her family for her slights against the consort. She started spitting out her excuses far faster then she could think them, "Its simply…I heard all about the things Consort Merlin has been doing. Things, awful things that no consort should ever be caught doing. And I mean…I have only heard bits and pieces, but I know that you weren't happy with him. I simply assumed…"

And not once did Lady Orange girl think to try apologizing to the consort directly. It never even occurred to her to try apologizing to the consort via Arthur. As far as she seemed to be concerned, she hadn't insulted the consort at all. She had merely been stating the truth. But the truth was also an insult to Arthur. It was as if she had spit in his face, deciding His choice in consort wasn't good enough. And thus, it was Arthur who she would throw her apologies too. She wouldn't make this kind of mistake again, for as long as she lived.

But Arthur had noticed her distinct lack of apology towards the consort. And Merlin didn't know how it was possible for the prince's face to grow frostier then it already was. But it had, and it did, and the orange girl shivered as if she was in a tundra of snow all of a sudden, her bluster of an apology dying on her lips before she could finish. And Arthur felt as if he knew exactly what this little girl had assumed, and the idea was almost laughable, how the orange girl thought she could be afforded the same opportunities that he had. And maybe it really had been the wrong move for Arthur to scorn Merlin so publicly, for reasons other then the massive bruise Merlin was stubbornly refusing to hide-if this situation was the results. Beating Merlin's arse until it was black and blue and decorated with red welts was his choice. But fending off crude insults from others was far below Arthur. He expected to never have a conversation like this again, with the orange dressed girl.

"Well, I believe that you are forgetting something to add in your little 'apology'." Arthur sneered dangerously, a certain sharpness glinting in his eyes like razor blades. The little girl flinched violently, as if Arthur had just struck her the same way he had struck Merlin. But Arthur would never dream of hitting the little girl-he could do far more damage by going ahead and dragging her to her parents side. Sure her father would do far worse to punish the girl then Arthur would want to bother with. No…there was only one person who'd get the chance to feel his palm against him. And the woman lacked a few…certain body parts that this person had. But when the girl only stared at him, blinking uncertain through her watery eyes, Arthur had to wonder just how well was the education of other nobles. To not know Arthur was demanding his idiot consort be given a proper apology…so Arthur could nip this little attitude towards his consort in the bud. "I'm sure even you can reason out that you owe my consort something and make amends…"

Perhaps Arthur was a little too focused on dragging out an apology for his consort, or he would have been panicking a bit more then he was. For the noble girl to have heard what he had done in the marketplace, to hear enough pieces for her to know he had called Merlin a whore…it meant that the rumors were already traveling far faster then he would have thought it would. Which meant Arthur had basically not one chance at keeping any of this from his father for any length of time. But Arthur wasn't panicking. The girls confession of hearing how Arthur had treated his consort barely raising an alarm. He was far too agitated to pay attention to secondary things like that.

Because a proper apology would come first.

And Arthur could claim all he wanted that he had alternative reasons to humiliate a young girl of noble birth until he was able to force an apology from her lips. Could claim the only reason he was doing this was because he didn't want to see such behavior festering among his people. It would be much harder for Arthur to-damn it- 'protect' his consort as if there was a doting husband bone in his body, if he had to do more damage control if things got out of hand. He could claim he was only doing this because it was less work to do it today, then it would be trying to fix it tomorrow. Could try claiming another reason was because when his father found out, he'd be able to say he was already fixing the problem. But Arthur knew…he might not know the exact details or understand all the details himself…but he knew.

Arthur was agitated.

Agitated at somebody else calling Merlin a whore. When 'he' was the only one allowed to do it. The only one that should be allowed to degrade him like the filth he was. His consort had already been taken and violated many times over. He'd done things that Arthur'd never dream of doing, with far too many men. And there was very little Arthur could do to deny that simple truth…not even knowing he would be the one to have Merlin for the rest of their lives was enough to cool his temper over that fact. But…how many of those men could've called Merlin a whore? Arthur couldn't imagine it was many of them. So, it was easier to imagine not one of them had. It was easier to think Arthur was the only one who'd actually done it. And Arthur wanted to hold onto that feeling with all of the fierce possessiveness he could muster. And this little girl was trying to take that feeling from him.

This little girl was trying to take something that should have been HIS.

His Word.

His Whore.

Just like Merlin's virginity-something Arthur wouldn't have touched with a ten foot pole, but felt jilted because he did not have the option to take it any longer-should have been his. And maybe Arthur was taking his aggravation over that whole different situation-stupid, stupid Merlin. Couldn't the boy have kept it in his bloody pants long enough for Arthur to decide rather or not he was going to clean up the mess he had been making, and decide on weather or not he was willing to consummate their marriage before his twenty first summer? Ending the gamble he had been playing with his kingdom on the line by having one short night with the boy in his bed-out on Lady Orange. But Arthur hardly cared with the semantics of it all.

Especially not since the orange girl was looking at him with wounded eyes. As if she 'still' didn't understand what Arthur was trying to demand of her. But perhaps Arthur shouldn't be so irritated by that-fuck, he was definitely irritated by all of that-because he had also never apologized to any other person, other then his father that was, before Merlin came into his life. And Arthur had been forced to give the boy his first real apology for not believing Merlin about Valiant after that disaster first council meeting. Of course, he regretted apologizing to the boy now. Since he knew Merlin must have been playing him. Pretending he was all horrified over a kiss and behaving as if he didn't realize rape could have been on the table instead. Weaponizing his whole 'I'm a clueless and naive virgin who claims I'm gay but doesn't even know two men can have sex.' Stupid fucking lie, he should have known Merlin was lying to him back then, the second he started to scream at Arthur that he was gay that first time. How would Merlin have fucking known he was gay, if he did not get any of 'those' feelings…down there.

Stupid…fuck…what very few positive memories he had with Merlin seemed tainted now.

And Arthur shook his head violently, before deciding to just point blank tell Lady Orange what he was expecting to get from her before he would allow her to go. But there was this sharp and sudden gasp that distracted him. And it was most obviously not him, and as he had been glaring at the Lady in Orange, he knew it was most definitely not her. And one fast glance over his shoulder also proved to him that Merlin had not done it either. The consort was looking baffled as could be, but dropped his gaze the second the blond tried to meet his eyes. And Arthur fought the second wave of indignation that rolled through him, urging him to move forward to grab Merlin by the chin and jerk his head up so Arthur could see the blue framed in purple bruising. But again, now wouldn't be the time and the place. And Arthur averted his gaze onto the final person in the room.

Lady Clarissa.

"I cannot believe I missed something as huge as that! It's as if it's trying to swallow your entire face!" Lady Clarissa said loudly, in her thickened Spanish accent, with her sole focus entirely on Merlin. Arthur whipped his head around, and he just now noticed the boy was a little bit further out of range then he would have liked. But also placed him firmly in line with one of the torchlights hanging on the nearby wall. The new light brought fresh attention to the bruising lining along Merlin's cheekbones, and Arthur could feel a swell of pride brimming in his chest with the sight of them. Because he'd been the one to put those markings them. Nobody else. The marks were all His. But then…Clarissa's voice sounding as if it was on the wrong side of scandalized-reminding the man that not everybody would see it the same way he did, finally reached his ears, "Do I dare even ask what has happened to you?"

Apparently, Clarissa hadn't heard the same rumors the Lady in Orange had heard. Or she would have known the bruises on Merlin were the obvious signs of what Arthur had done to him. But Clarissa's question…it left a shocking cold wave of panic soaring over the prince. Raining down on him so quick he could have been sick from it. He even forgot all about the Lady in Orange, as he whipped his head back around to look at Merlin with wild eyes. This was what his and Merlin's fight earlier had been about…what he'd be telling others once the busybodies started asking questions. And Arthur could feel his ribcage rattling around inside of his chest violently, there was nothing he could do to stop the consort from speaking his truth. Nothing Arthur could do to try and save face until their royal guests had vacated the kingdom. The other was already opening his mouth, and Arthur squeezed his eyes so tightly, practically holding his breath as he waited for words that would condemn him.

But…

"I ran into a door."

Arthur's eyes flew wide the second those words registered in his head. 'I ran into a door' the very same excuse Arthur had suggested for Merlin to use earlier. Arthur almost had to wonder if there really was something wrong with his hearing because there was no chance that Merlin had actually went ahead and…covered for him? There was no chance, Arthur hadn't even considered that he would…not after the prince had been accosting him since he had arrived. But when the prince tried to seek out Merlin's gaze, and saw that the boy was looking mournful at the floor, one hand tightly gripping onto the sleeve around his elbow-Arthur almost wanted to take those curled fingers away from the fabric, and gentle smooth it out with his other hand, as his own little version of 'thanks'-the prince had no choice but to realize it was true.

Merlin had just lied for him.

But…why…

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Arthur could only note vaguely that Lady Orange was taking her chance while they were all distracted to duck into the hall. And Arthur was able to faintly hear the announcer calling her name-though there was no chance of him being able to recall what it was-as the doors slammed shut again. In normal circumstances-where Arthur wasn't staring at Merlin as if he had suddenly grown a second head…or five-perhaps the prince would have given chase to the girl. Because honestly, who the fuck thought it would be a good idea to run off when a royal was upset with them already? It would only make the reprimand fly straight into punishment territory.

And speaking of punishments…perhaps Arthur was willing to go a little lighter on what he had already planned for the boy the next morning. Show Merlin that if he played by the rules Arthur set, Arthur would be willing to meet him at the halfway point, and loosen the reins a little. Perhaps instead of doing a full on whipping, making slash marks across the consort's back, each raised welt possibly representing one of the men Merlin had slept with, he could just start the two of them off with a harsh spanking over his knee. It wasn't as if Arthur had much experience with all of this either, so that would be as good for him as it would be for Merlin. To warm up, and test how he liked doing the littler stuff before he just jumped into the bigger things. It definitely couldn't hurt if he got a little bit of actual practice in.

But Clarissa made this little clicking sound that forced him to drag his eyes away from his wayward consort-why did it feel so bloody hard to keep eyes off of him?-and froze when he saw the calculating glint in Clarissa's eyes. The other was studying the bruises a little too intensely for Arthur's liking…and Arthur didn't know what he should do. What he wanted to do was puff his chest out with pride and say…yes, I did all of that. But two things stopped him. One…the whole point of Merlin lying was so others 'wouldn't' know what Arthur had done to him. And two…Arthur was fighting an equally insane urge to jerk his jacket off his shoulders and throw it over the consort's face to try and hide the bruises from her view.

Just like he had wanted to do the same thing to hide all that pale skin Merlin called his collarbones from view earlier.

It was strange, how these two equally strong emotions tried wrestling inside of Arthur. Each one fighting for dominance inside of him. On one hand, Arthur wanted to show off. And show he had done what others hadn't. Merlin couldn't have had very good lovers, since Arthur could not recall a single instant in where he had seen an unexplained mark on Merlin anywhere. No suck marks on his neck from some man trying to kiss his way up Merlin's long length of neck. No strangely odd bruises surrounding Merlin's wrists-he glanced but they were both covered up with Merlin's sleeves-to indicate he'd been held down by somebody much larger then he was, for the sole purpose of fucking into the boy's hole. But when he considered the second hand…Arthur wanted to horde away everything he did with the boy, bruises included. Just like a dragon that kept his gold hidden away inside of its tower or cave so others wouldn't steal it away. But a lifestyle fit for a prince hardly afforded Arthur the proper privacy meant with hiding away a full blown person.

And then Clarissa turned her gaze onto him, and Arthur felt himself freeze so tightly, he was even holding his breath for fear he would give them away somehow. It worried him, how calculating she still looked, as if she was trying to piece the pieces together. Struggling to fit Merlin's 'I ran into a door' story with how massive the bruise was. If she looked close enough-Arthur started to casually slide himself across the floor to hide Merlin a bit behind him-she might just see the outline of Arthur's knuckles along his temple. Just because Merlin had lied for him, didn't mean people were gonna just blindly believe it. Anybody with half a brain cell would know a door couldn't cause a bruise quite like the shiner Arthur'd given to Merlin.

"That must have been some door." Clarissa said in a smooth tone, her expression clearing as she fell into line with what story they were peddling her. Arthur could feel something in his stomach relaxing, the relief rushing through him almost enough to knock him over. It almost felt as if Clarissa was a test of some sort. Something for the both of them to try and practice with. And now that they had managed to get away with it in front of her, surely they could do it with the dozens of people waiting for them. And more importantly…they may have a real shot at convincing his father it was nothing more then a door. So Arthur watched with cautious relief as Lady Clarissa picked up a handful of her dress so she wouldn't be stepping on the edges of it as she strode pass them toward the door. This was it, this was Clarissa leaving. This was-this was Clarissa stopping, and looking over her shoulder toward his consort with a cock of her eyebrow raised, "You know, I am really hoping you intend on fixing that problem you call a face. I truly cannot stomach trying to eat a nice meal while I am being forced to look at something like that."

Arthur didn't care that Clarissa was agreeing with the very argument he was trying to make with Merlin earlier himself. He didn't care he had once tried to sleep with this very girl. He could feel a vein starting to throb somewhere around the middle of his forehead, could feel as red starting to tinge its way up his neck. Fucking Clarissa…so what if Clarissa and probably everybody else inside that room thought the other boy was looking grotesque. Arthur thought he was fucking beautiful! Okay there, yes. Arthur admitted it. Merlin was an odd looking fella. But the bruises on his face made this odd pleasurable warmth show up in his stomach, and he looked far better today then he had in the three months Arthur had known him. And no amount of Clarissa agreeing Merlin had to cover up, was going to change that.

Merlin. Looked. Fucking. Beautiful.

And Arthur was not going to think another word on that odd little subject. It was already strange enough to be thinking a man was even capable of being 'beautiful'. Handsome, yes. Or Strong. Definitely. But pretty…like Arthur had thought of earlier. Pretty sounded too delicate for somebody who often fought like Merlin did. Pretty was something people said if it referred to a flower or a maiden. Not some odd looking elfin resembling boy. And beautiful? Arthur could only get out the thought because he knew it was 'his bruises' that made him beautiful. And 'his money' that paid for his newest outfit and that added to the overall effect. So if one really thought of it hard enough, it was really Arthur that made him beautiful.

He thought he could live with that, at least.

"Oh, and Merlin. One more thing before I go in and leave you with your lovely husband." Clarissa said with a little smirk in her voice, stopping with her hand on the door and peeking at the two of them over her slender shoulder. Arthur didn't hesitate to go on the defensive, narrowing his eyes sharply at Clarissa, quietly warning her that it was her turn to start treading carefully. If anybody was going to say anything to Merlin about his looks, it would be Arthur and no other. And so help him god if Clarissa thought the one time night they had almost had together, would make her immune towards the prince's wrath if he got angry enough with her. There's only so much Arthur would allow even the niece of the great general to get away with. But Merlin didn't seem to have any reaction to Clarissa calling him out once again, his features decidedly blank, even as the prince moved closer so he had his chest bumping up against the back of Merlin's dark clad shoulder blade. "I cannot begin to even imagine what rumor my friend there was talking about. But if it's half as bad as it sounded, then perhaps it's time you stop spreading rumors about me, yes?"

Arthur blinked, looking positively baffled by hearing such odd and strange words. Clearly, she was talking about the other girl revealing how Merlin was secretly a whore who'd take something up his arse faster then Arthur would be able to spank it, even if she didn't know the details of said rumor …and perhaps he really should take the time to track down the orange girl. Just to warn her-so to speak-not to say one more word about his consort or his nightly activities as long as she was in proper company. But…spreading rumors? His idiotic consort…not only a whore, but spreading rumors that involved other noble guests? Could the revelations of today not get any worse? Arthur was almost wishing he had never gotten out of bed this morning. Not if all of this was what he had waiting for him.

Merlin: the Consort.

Merlin: the whorish slut.

Merlin: the mass spreader of gossip.

Was there anything his consort wasn't? What was going to be the next revelation Arthur would have to deal with? Was it going to be something as horrible as…Merlin: the sorcerer. Good god. Somebody just kill him now and put him out of all his future misery if that's where their future was going to be heading. Merlin the consort, he could live with. He didn't get a choice in that one. Merlin: the whorish slut, would soon be corrected so he didn't have to worry much about that one at the moment. Merlin: the mass spreader of gossip was…most definitely something Arthur didn't want to touch if he had a ten foot pole in hand. But Merlin the sorcerer…thank the lord that this one was just his overactive imagination trying to do its best to work against him. Arthur wouldn't have ever been able to live that one down if it was true.

But when Arthur turned his sharp eye onto Merlin-with his brows furrowed in the center of his forehead to indicate his confusion, as well as to silently demand what Merlin had did to insult Lady Clarissa when his back had been turned-he'd realized Merlin wasn't looking back at all. In fact, it was as if the consort barely even knew he was there, and the consort obviously knew exactly what Clarissa was talking about now. Because the consort gave one short and sharp-jerky-nod of his head to indicate he understood her. This seemed to have at least satisfied Lady Clarissa, since her smirk widened just a bit before she was also pulling open the thick doors to slip herself through the crack.

"NOW WELCOMING LADY CLARISSA OF THE-" the guard who usually did the announcements started to scream, but the doors slammed shut with a resolute bang before either of them could have heard Clarissa's family name. Leaving the two of them as they were originally…alone. Inside of this creepy arse hallway. With so much to say, but neither having the time to say it all…

X

It was as if a switch had gone off inside of Merlin the second he heard the thudding of the door slamming shut. If he was not trying so hard to hold onto his composer in front of the prince, he would have sunk into the ground far faster then a bowl of jelly could have. His knees were nearly shaking after the whole attack from Clarissa's friend trying to weigh down on him. And then he had been almost positive Lady Clarissa was going to start it up again with him. But she hadn't. She had only been worried about herself, and her own rumors as they continued to wreck havoc on her social life. She had to have been pretty desperate, after all, if she was willing to go attending such an important banquet with a girl who'd been several years too young for the friendship to be on the more appropriate side.

But thank god for selfish heiresses, Merlin thought while he wiped the perspiration forming across top of his brow with the back of his hand in a way only a peasant could've done.

At least Lady Clarissa wouldn't be bothering Lady Morgana, the real person who had started all of the rumors about the Lady being caught in a married man's bedroom. The reason Merlin wasn't somehow being crucified over that one, would be because Morgana had left out 'whose' bedroom Clarissa had been found in. One word of Arthur's name, and he knew he would somehow be at fault for Arthur's wondering eye on the ladies. But hey, Merlin was more than happy to take over the blame for that one now. More then happy to allow for the Lady Clarissa to think it really had been him who had started all the rumors. It was the least he could do for Morgana who had already done so much for him. Perhaps this could be his last great act before his death…

His self sacrificing nature coming out to play one last time…

"Do I really what to know what all of that was about-" Arthur started to say, before he cut himself off abruptly, and shook his head rapidly. He could tell already that he most definitely didn't want to know what Clarissa was going on about. That was a future Arthur's problem, should he ever be forced into dealing with it, if it came up again. But Present Arthur had a few far more pressing matters to deal with. Like finding out every little bodily thought rattling around inside of that brain his consort was in possession of. Shaking it out if he needed too, just to figure out the one thing that'd been hovering like a shadow in the back of his mind. The prince placed both of his hands on either side of his hips, and demanded with this rather snooty tone, as if Merlin hadn't just did him one major favor. "You lied to Clarissa. You told her you were hit in the face with a door, just like I told you too. But I'd like to know why, when you were so adamant about screaming the truth earlier."

Merlin looked as if he wasn't going to answer at first, as he stayed quiet for several long seconds, staring at the door as if he thought Clarissa was about to come stomping back out of the room to scream she knew he had lied. Or as if he was perhaps thinking those doors were going to slam open and release about a thousand or so demons to wreck hell across the both of them. And Arthur didn't like it, that muscle in his jawline jumping violently. Merlin had been quiet for just long enough, the prince was literally two seconds from throwing himself forward so that he could finally press his fingertips harshly on either side of Merlin's chin. Wrenching open the boy's mouth so that his lips popped open, while Arthur was 'willing' for the answers to pour freely from Merlin's mouth.

His fingers twitched on his hips, and Arthur actually felt just a touch disappointed when Merlin finally turned to look him in the eye-robotically almost-because this meant Arthur had no reason to jerk Merlin around by his chin. Not if his idiotic brat was actually going to answer him…

"It's just like you said, Arthur. You told me to tell her that, so I did. Am I following your orders good enough, or perhaps I should do even better. I wouldn't want you to face the king's disappointment if I once again manage to do something that will upset him and the court." Merlin said, his voice sounding strange and robotic…and Arthur couldn't help but notice the far away look in his eyes. The blue pools seemed to be more darker then they usually were and the prince frowned at the sight. Arthur would have thought Merlin was being the little sarcastic shit he usually was, since Merlin had never tried to appease his father. Not once, in the three months he'd been living in the castle. Which was a strange concept for him…who wouldn't want to please their king? He had seen grown men throwing themselves at his father's feet-nobles as well even-just to get his favor. But not Merlin. Not Merlin, who'd stood in front of his father's council and declared himself to be not only a sorcerer, but also willing to make a deal just to have the freedom of Morgana's maid. Not Merlin, who went and carried the head of a slayed beast into his father's most important council chambers just to declare the truth. It was far too easy to believe Merlin was being a sarcastic shit that needed to have that knocked out of him. Or at least it would have been, if Arthur saw the distinct lack of fire that usually accompanied Merlin's eyes when he was being the sarcastic brat he was… "Besides, I also wouldn't want to live with the death of starving children on my conscious."

Arthur had to stop and think back for a second, before he'd remembered what he told Merlin earlier. About how this deal really was more important then Arthur'd been behaving, and how Merlin needed to do his part to prevent such tragedies from happening. A kingdom could never have enough food sources after all, should the worse happen and they need to dip into their reserves. But Merlin had been furious with him for laying that at his feet. So it was quite strange to think his consort was now thinking about the kingdom, rather then all of his own selfish needs. A little too strange, actually…

And combined with the faint look in Merlin's eyes. Almost as if he was there, but not really 'there' either…his pupils could have been blown, since all Arthur could see now was a faint blue ring around the black center of Merlin's eyes. This was not normal.

But Arthur wanted to overlook it, as well.

Because he actually liked what he was hearing. Merlin being deferential towards him. Hanging off of his every word, and showing he was actually listening whenever Arthur talked to him. Why…it was a damn miracle, that was what it was. And not one Arthur intended on wasting, while Merlin was in this mood. It was way too easy for him to ignore all the warning signs that were practically screaming at him. Easy for Arthur to ignore the blown pupils, and the odd sounding voice, and the way Merlin didn't even look like himself. Because if this was Merlin being in an 'easy' mood, maybe he wouldn't try anymore fighting with Arthur when he suggested…

"Do you think you are willing to go to Madame Teresa and get your face covered up now? Surely if you want this deal to go through as bad as I do, you know that you really can't walk in there the way you look now." Arthur tried for what he felt was the umpteenth time. But he was much gentler then he had been, feeling that Merlin would be willing to do what he ordered in a way he hadn't when he'd been trying to fight against Arthur instead of working with him. But Arthur could not hide the tone of regret echoing in his voice. He really did want to just stand here for hours, so he could simply admire the blossoming violet color covering Merlin's eye. But Arthur could comfort himself with the knowledge that he would get his chance later on. When he could wipe away the make-up, and stare all he wanted in the privacy of his chambers. Then the prince cleared his throat gruffly, reminding himself there was no time to be pulled into Merlin's allure. Not yet, at least … "I mean, if even Lady Clarissa is agreeing with me, then I'll hope you can trust that the word of two nobles are far more trustworthy to listen too, then whatever the voice that lives inside your head is telling you."

And Arthur continued smiling gently at Merlin, this stupid as fuck smile, as if he thought for one second that Merlin was actually capable of following instructions. With the following mood Merlin was in, Arthur almost expected for the consort to give a soft 'yes, sire' before bowing his head low before his prince. And Arthur nearly gave a full body shudder at the imagined breathiness of the 'yes sire' being muttered under his consort's breath. His eyes literally rolled into the back of his head for a brief moment, the hot rush of blood shooting through his veins nearly overwhelming him. The prince was almost in a state of pure euphoric, at the imagined sight of Merlin's twisting rump as he did his stupid swish jump walk thing he usually did, going up the stairs to do what he had commanded. To do what ATHUR had commanded him to do.

As it should be.

…

…

…

…

…

Any minute now, Arthur thought with an almost blissful state of being. It had been far too long since Arthur had felt quite this good about himself. The muscles in his shoulders that usually gave him problems due to hypertension, which had came with the highly stressful lifestyle he lived with, actually felt relaxed. God, maybe Arthur should do this more often if this was what it felt like. He had never felt this way when he bossed around his other insubordinates. They usually tried to jump at his command. But perhaps Merlin was giving this profound reaction to him because he wasn't one of Arthur's usual subordinates.

Merlin was his Husband.

His Husband, who would be walking up those steps simply because he knew it would please Arthur. His husband, who would return promptly and not cause Arthur an early heart attack from stressing out over where he was, because he'd know it was what 'Arthur' wanted him to do. His little, bratty husband…who wouldn't be a brat any longer. Because even Merlin would know Arthur would be more pleasant around him if he was doing what he was told. His Husband…now a former whore instead of a current one, because he wouldn't dare dream of dismissing how Arthur felt about his different …activities.

Anytime now…

….

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Anytime now…

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…

"…Maybe if you hurry after Clarissa, she'll agree to have you escorting her throughout the party. She seems the type that is willing to put up with all of your crap if you allow her to be on your arm for the night." Merlin said dryly. And Arthur was two seconds away from falling right over, his eyes popping open so wide, he could have sworn they were going to fall straight out of his eye sockets. This was an almost comical expression, if it wasn't happening to Arthur. Arthur who…did not understand what he had said or done to make the idiot return to normal. Because normal was what Merlin seemed to be now. His voice heavier but no longer robotic. With his stance looser and relaxed instead of drifting. His eyes a bit brighter, but still not carrying the fire that Arthur always saw lighting them up…fuck! Arthur should have known that good luck wouldn't have lasted long. But couldn't the mood have lasted for longer then two minutes? Was two minutes really too much for Arthur to ask for? Two minutes to have nothing but pure blind obedience? "…Because I do seem to recall us already having this conversation. Where I denied putting on a hint of make-up to hide my face. But as Clarissa does not seem to be sporting any bruises, I am sure all the masses of people in there will prefer the more beautiful woman as your partner for the evening. Instead of the one you marked up…"

As Merlin said this, he tried to get a hold of himself as he turned back to look at the door Lady Clarissa had walked through. One two three four five. One two three four five…he didn't know what was wrong with him. Or what made him black out like he had for a minute there. He could vaguely remember Arthur talking, which meant a minute or two had passed and yet, he couldn't remember actually living those minutes. Perhaps everything was just too much. Perhaps he was stressing out more about this 'let's get himself killed off before the main appetizer' plan, that his brain literally could not keep up with it. It made as much sense as anything else did these days.

One two three four five

One two three four five

Onetwothreefourfive

Onetwothreefourfive

Onetwothreefour….

Why didn't Clarissa say anything?

The thought struck him hard and fast as another reason for why Merlin could be stressing out. The entire time Clarissa had been here, Merlin had been positive she would spew to Arthur about how sick he was. About how Merlin's suicidal tendencies had evolved far past the point of just wondering if he should go through with it or not. But she hadn't said a single word on the subject, had she forgotten all about their encounter in the hallway earlier, where she had pointed out all the blood escaping him from the nail wounds buried deep in his arm. Merlin didn't think so. He imagined it was hard to forget the Consort of Camelot-or anybody really-would feel good only when they hurt themselves.

But that continued to bring Merlin back to the one question that was going to plague him for many years to come…

Why.

Why didn't Clarissa tell Arthur?

What would she get out of Not telling Arthur?

Merlin already knew she wanted to have Arthur's babies, it was why she kept trying to tempt him into her bed. But the consort had no way of knowing if it was because this would be her way of trying to get Merlin out of his position in court so she could be next in line as Arthur's bride. Or if she really did find it funny to drive Merlin completely mad. It was most likely the last one…Clarissa had all but confessed to him-as she was being a complete and utter bitch the last time they had talked-about how nobody would want Arthur if it wasn't for his crown (she wasn't wrong there. Merlin couldn't think of one other person who would suffer as much abuse as he had, and not get something big out of it) and how much fun she was having knowing she had Arthur's attention while all but dragging him along by a string.

But wouldn't confessing Merlin's greatest sin end up being the one thing that would kickstart the drama Clarissa was wanting?

Not that Arthur cared if Merlin was cutting himself.

But he would probably be upset about it. Camelot's Consort could not possibly walk around with marks of disfigurement he had given himself. What would the people say should any of them find out Arthur was such a bad husband, and how'd he been nothing more then a disappointment, should he be found out. And all that 'blah, blah, blah' jazz.

But fuck…this was going to drive Merlin absolutely crazy, if Arthur didn't do it first.

"Ugh, good god!" Arthur nearly blew up at Merlin, causing the consort flinch back from the sheer volume of the noise, but Arthur hardly cared to note another warning sign saying there was something wrong. "I know we've fought about this before, but didn't our brief reprive with Clarissa give you not two seconds to think it through? Surely after a minute, you'd realize 'starving children' is a serious problem that can't just be brushed off as if it is nothing!" And Arthur could feel the way his throat was working restlessly, as he struggled with everything he had to temper down what he really wanted to scream at Merlin. Instead, he said, "You threw a fit about me when I called you selfish. But that is exactly what you are…a selfish whore who thinks of nobody but HIMSELF!"

The entire hall seemed to fall silent because of the prince's outburst, but between Merlin and Arthur, the prince was the only one that didn't notice. Too busy trying to stop himself from bursting out what was hovering just there, on the tip of his tongue, screaming at him to tell Merlin a few things that the boy should probably know. Like how…Arthur would have rather bathed in horse dung, before he attended any kind of party with Clarissa. How she seemed like this complete and utter bore now, the complete opposite from what Arthur had thought of her when they had first met. How Clarissa might not have any markings covering her skin, but that certainly did not add to her appeal. In fact, with how dark her natural skin was already, Arthur doubted he would have been nearly as interested as he was in Merlin's markings.

Fucking Merlin….claiming Clarissa might be beautiful to him and not himself…why the hell did Merlin think Arthur marked him for, if not to make him beautiful? Oh…right…he probably thought the only reason was because Arthur had to punish him for being a whore. And while that was definitely why he had done it, it wouldn't be the only reason Arthur continued to make fresh markings across his skin for the next several decades or so. Until they were too wrinkled and old for him to do anything else. Hell, Arthur was still disappointed over how Merlin couldn't see the beauty in his markings. Earlier, he had been so sure the reason Merlin didn't want to cover them up, was because he wanted to show them off. But as it turned out…he hadn't. But Arthur wanted to see a day come to pass where he did. Where he was proud of those bruises on him. Where Arthur could walk into his chambers and find Merlin strutting around inside with each and everyone of his markings on display. Showing off prouder then any peacock flashing it's feathers to it's intended mate to get attention.

And like the call of a siren. Arthur would have been there.

To touch and prod and poke and jab until Merlin winced at the sting of it.

To create more beautiful works of art until they flourished on Merlin's skin like a fresh canvas.

He just needed to get Merlin to see the beauty in his bruises instead of looking down at them.

But soon. Arthur promised himself. Soon…after everything was over with.

"…You must be more feeble minded then I thought, if you are going to think standing here and insulting me is going to get me to change my mind. I already agreed to lie for you, then you go and try changing the rules again? That may work for all these knights you have running around, but I'm not going to play that game." Merlin said slowly, his blue eyes seemed to have returned mostly normal, the pupil smaller and trying to take up less space then it had been. But they were more vivid then Arthur could have ever remembered seeing them be, a red tinge trying to surround the outer color. Was…fuck his life if Merlin was going to start crying his eyes out just so he could play victim to Arthur being the villain in this story…not on Prince Arthur Pendragon's watch. But Merlin took his step back, and Arthur instinctively stepped forward, as if he was about to give chase if the boy tried to flee from him. But Merlin didn't run, not yet at least. As he shook his head, just a bit of his dark curls falling loose from the gel and falling in his eyes. Arthur wanted to cut the bloody lock off because it cast a shadow over Merlin's eye, blocking his view…perhaps it was something he could carry around with him, instead of just throwing it out. Like how some people carried around a locket with their loved one's hair in it. It would definitely cast a calming effect on Arthur, if he had something of Merlin he could grab, if for one reason or the other, he wasn't able to grab onto the boy himself. "But, if my 'selfish ways' will be a bother for you and your people, I'm sure your deal will be far more expected if I do not attend at all. I can always return to my chambers. Since I'm sure you don't want my wh-whorish ways to taint anybody that comes in contact with me."

Merlin's voice cracked as he said the word 'whore' the taste of it on his tongue was like a vile poison that would send the worse shockwave of remembered pain down his spine. And the consort was fully prepared to walk out of this hall, more then fully prepared to walk out of Arthur's life for good. But fuck it all to hell. Fuck this damn meeting, fuck his damning horrible husband. Fuck all these people who got dressed up just so they could see Merlin make a fool out of himself. And fuck Merlin himself for coming up with some elaborate plan to be as rude and as crass as he could be just to get Arthur to bloody well kill him! Clearly, that plan hadn't been a thing more then a failure waiting to happen. And fail it did. He was going to have more luck walking up those stairs onto the top landing. Climbing so he was standing on top of the rails that overlooked the grand hall. And then jumping. Landing with a resolute crash right at Arthur's leather skinned boots! Merlin may have wanted Arthur to do the job for him just so he was able to claim he was murdered, instead of death by causing suicide. But none of this was bloody worth it! Merlin would not have had to deal with Clarissa. Or her friend. And would not be here with Arthur once again bossing him around, and changing the rules to his stupid 'let's lie to everybody about how Merlin's a clumsy idiot instead of a abused victim' if he had done the one thing he had been too much of a bloody coward to do himself.

FUCK! Merlin 'had' already lied for Arthur. He'd been dumb enough to allow Arthur's little manipulation about children being starved-and yes, he knew very much that Arthur was just trying to manipulate him into doing what he wanted for the millionth time-to get inside of his head. Had allowed his heart to ache with gut wrenching guilt for a single second as he imagined little kids looking just like he did. Kids who were not able to reach his waist, and had the same concave chest that he had. Little fingers and little toes on a small body that had their ribs sticking out. Cheeks on their faces which were sunken in, their eyes hollow and empty as they begged for a small scrap of food that they were never get. But Merlin was not going to allow Arthur to manipulate him once again with the exact same thing. He would rather go to the villages that had these starving children, and teach them how they could grow their own food so that had this little garden they could fall back on during the harsher times, before he trusted any single morsel 'Camelot' would give them. Camelot would try to say something ridiculous, like the village 'owed then' for doing the bare minimum of watching out for them.

"No, no, no!" Arthur found himself stepping in front of the consort before he could take more then two steps towards the stairs in his frustration. Pathetic. That was what Arthur felt like, when he blocked off Merlin's only exit…how had it come to this? How many times had Arthur had to stop the consort from leaving after he had already arrived? What did Arthur keep doing, that was making his consort keep trying to run away from him? "You're not getting out of this as easy as that." He hissed, his brain working a mile a minute with an almost desperate fever, to do anything to keep Merlin being a good boy for him. Or at least as good as he could be when he was an untrained mutt. But Merlin was right as well…he'd already started lying about the bruises. So maybe this whole thing was just something Arthur should…let go? He couldn't say he was accustomed to just 'letting things go', but this…it was a small enough thing, as long as Merlin kept lying about his bruises during the banquet. Perhaps Arthur had wanted to simply try his luck out while Merlin was in that odd mood, but it was clearly going nowhere. And the only thing trying had done was alienate Merlin even more, when Arthur was needing him to most. "Here, how about this. What if I go on and apologize to you? Would that make everything better if I do? I'm sorry I slapped you across the face even though you deserved it. I'm sorry I'm making you lie about it, but maybe you shouldn't have started all of this by running around with other men. And I'm sorry you are most likely going to go off and do something that will force me to do it again. Did all of that make you happy? Can we just bloody well go inside the hall now?"

It was probably the most back handed apology anybody had given in the entire history of apologies, but this was also the best Arthur felt as if he could muster up. It truly felt as if the shoe was on the other foot now, trying to figure out how the consort did things like this. Arthur had been the one forcing an apology out of Merlin earlier-an apology he never did get now that he thought back on it-to get just a little semblance of control over where their conversation had been going. He definitely had not suspected that this conversation would be ending with 'him' doing the apologizing. But Arthur figured it was going to be the last apology he ever gave to Merlin so it shouldn't feel as forced as it did. After all, Merlin would be his good mutt after this whole banquet was over. And Merlin was going to start his proper training. And a brave master-for doing the world a service by taking Merlin under his wing so the world wouldn't be forced to endure his strangeness-such as him, would never need to apologize for not a single thing ever again.

As it should have been from the start.

But when Arthur held out his arm-he expected for Merlin to know he should grab onto the appendage, so they were able to walk into the hall like a proper couple-the consort stared down at it with a blank expression. And continued to stare at it, until Arthur's arm started to shake from the strain coming with holding it up for so long. But still, Merlin made no move to take it. And Arthur followed his eyes down onto his arm to catch sight of the appendage for himself, as a little sliver of anxiety rolled down his spine. Was there something wrong with his arm, some reason as for why Merlin wasn't taking it as he should? Was there something disgusting on him, that not even Merlin with his dirty-but ever so long-slim peasant hands would touch? But no…all Arthur could see was an arm -a completely normal arm-clad with the rich red fabric of his banquet jacket. And still…Merlin refused to take it even after Arthur all but shoved it in his face.

And Arthur clenched his teeth, about to snap and demand to know what Merlin's problem was 'this' time.

But then he saw Merlin's lip twitch, and it looked like he was …was he smiling? Was he 'laughing' at Arthur? Was the boy somehow 'making fun' of Arthur and his jacket?

Arthur could feel the heat pooling in his face, growing flush with his raising anger…what did Arthur have to do to get his hands on a spoon? The kind of spoon that would allow him to scoop out Merlin's brain and DEMAND to know what was so bloody funny about taking his arm like any proper 'bride' would have done.