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!

189. Chapter 191

Unwanted…unnecessary…unneeded…no matter what would you wanted to use in place of any other, it all still meant the exact same thing. That Merlin was in the way, that Merlin was only being a bother, that everybody was going to be just fine if he wasn't here at all. It was a word that had stung Merlin under his deepest foundation the first time he had ever heard it in reference to himself…a word that had became associated with him for so long, that Merlin couldn't say what else to call himself. It had festered beneath the skin ever since, this awful thing that wiggled beneath his skin and reminded him how hopeless he was, how he would never find a place for himself no matter where he tried to go, how people like him just weren't…wanted. And Merlin liked to say that it's never bothered him, that he was made of stronger stuff, that he was this steel bar and a few simple words couldn't hurt. But it had. And it still hurt. Bringing a bad round of memories with it, that only made Merlin wish he could manage to somehow scrub the word from his brain completely…

The Unwanted Consort.

His title.

His definition.

His marking to bear.

Perhaps things were different now, Merlin wasn't having to defend himself like he used to on the daily. He had to be on guard around the knights, but the tide had shifted somewhat, and the servants were flocking him in ways he couldn't have imagined they would only a few weeks ago. The way they had flocked him at the party, asking if he wanted more drink or food than he could hope to eat in his condition. The way the villagers had let him wrap his bandages on their wounds when they had flocked to the kingdom for aid after the griffin tried to take them out. The way the little girl had given him a crown of flowed because he had stopped Arthur from destroying her father's stand in the marketplace the day he had tried to kill Lancelot. The way they had all gathered around him with wounds still glistening bright and bold in the sunlight, whispering 'savior' under their breaths as he escaped the damage left behind by the griffin. All of these events tied together, painting a pretty picture that Merlin struggled with seeing. It had only been a month, a few weeks at the most, since those exact same people would have scorned him. It would take much more than a few odd incidents to change the scars that had grown beneath his skin, scars unseen but no less painful.

Scars that had been because Arthur had led the change against him.

And to hear him now…to hear him CLAIM that Merlin was no longer unwanted by the vast amount of people in the city, was almost laughable. What did the prince know about how people thought about Merlin, what did the prince know about even himself, when he's been known to change his mind at the drop of a hat. Merlin could be unwanted today, but he could become the enemy within an hour's time if something happened and Merlin didn't react well enough for those watching. It made the blood beneath his skin start to boil…Arthur hadn't even know what his knights had been doing to Merlin until a few days ago. And that was only because Merlin had practically spilled it out for him, and he still hadn't been sure Arthur had believed him…until the prince finally saw the act for himself. Merlin might as well be a sheep in Arthur's eyes…rendered useless until they needed to cut his wool from his skin and wear his achievements as badges for themselves. When would Arthur turn on him again? When would he cut this act and go back to the man that slapped Merlin because of a simple misunderstanding.

At least that Arthur wasn't a wolf hiding beneath the guise of a sheep.

At least Merlin knew that Arthur, and knew to prepare for the abuse.

At least that Arthur didn't scream like a freak about how possessive Merlin had made him…

At least Merlin knew why he was running before.

Arthur breathed out a heavy sigh that had Merlin Pendragon's eyes sharpening on him within an instant, waiting with tension in his spine and shoulders for the inevitable. Or for what seemed like the inevitable. For Arthur to take back what he said, for Arthur to throw his head back and laugh in Merlin's face just as he used to when he was making fun of Merlin. For Arthur to ask Merlin if he really thought a few simple weeks would be enough to change the reputation he had been landed with. If a few simple weeks were really enough time to change the popular opinion on where people stood when it came to their consort. Merlin'd be ready to say no…a few weeks wasn't possible for so much change, and he'd hopefully wipe away the smug look on Arthur's face when he realized the slim consort wasn't going to be wasting anymore of his time crying about what he could not change.

But Arthur did none of that.

"Merlin, I don't…I don't want to spend the last few minutes I have with you in a fight neither of us are going to win. It's like all we seem to do is fight with the other, both of us locked and loaded before we even say the first word. And to be honest, I don't even know what we are fighting about half the time. And as this could very well be our last moments together, can we just…not?" Said the prince, an almost weary smile touching his lips. Merlin narrowed his eyes onto him, taking in Arthur's expression…how tired he seemed. How drained. As if it was a weight as heavy as the planet bearing down on his shoulders, bags that hadn't been there before beneath his eyes and his hair messier than it should have been, skin pale as if he was sick and fighting off some kind of condition that needed to be dealt with. Arthur didn't look like he was in fighting shape…not against Merlin, and certainly not against a griffin. "…Please?"

Arthur sounded as if he was begging Merlin to comply with this simple request but Merlin knew for a fact that Arthur had never begged for anything his entire life. Not unless one counted the times Arthur had 'begged' Merlin to be a non-existent spectators to the wrongdoings only he seemed to notice happening in and around the castle. Although Merlin would use the term 'beg' very loosely…furiously insisting would have been a term to better describe the way Arthur's always treated him. And that was only if Merlin didn't use words like…abuse or manipulation or 'prince-splaning' everything to Merlin as if he wouldn't be able to understand the gist of it. Even though that was exactly everything the blond always was. Him possibly dying tonight, him possibly marching to his death in a few brief hours didn't give him a right to let…by gone be by gones. What did Merlin care? Why should he care? Arthur had already tried fussing at him over risking 'his life' saving those people, when he was being a bloody hypocrite by doing the same. He had already taken Charles punishment in hand, not taking into account that Merlin may have wanted to know before he met him again…it was like Merlin had been putting his hand into a viper's mouth without knowing he was even doing it. Arthur had all but ignored him when his father had done the worse thing possible by ignoring what was directly in his face. And he had taken things a step further by making light of his trauma…trauma HE caused. It was stupid of Arthur, thinking he had any right to ask Merlin for a favor…should Arthur not want to fight on his last day on earth then maybe he shouldn't have made an enemy out of Merlin.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, Arthur, but I have not ever nor will I ever listen to you. I'd have to respect you to give two single shits about what you would like to do on your last day on earth. I thought TODAY was going to be my last day on earth when I decided to leave my rooms when I saw people cowering in the courtyard from my window. And you know what I did? I went on and saved them myself. Fear be damned. So go on ahead, but you can go and crawl into a creek and die from whatever wounds you receive from the beast should you carry out this ridiculous plan of your father's for all I care. I WON'T allow you to silence me just because YOU don't like what's being said." Merlin lectured him, furiously and resentfully, watching as the prince's expression fell completely. Broken. Baring emotions he never would have let Merlin see if any other circumstances. Weak…just like Merlin was. Just like how Merlin refused to ever be again, as he squared his shoulders and sneered at the blond prince who thought he had alt right to be surprised by Merlin's decision. "After all…it isn't like you ever cared one bit about what I have to say? Why are your wants so much more important than my own? Maybe you can die by your own bloody stupidity, and leave me in bloody peace. That is the LEAST you can do."

Merlin was feeling pretty darn proud of himself, being able to speak his anger without resorting to violence like a righteous brute, or becoming a stuttering mess as if he was still somehow the victim. Let Arthur take THAT with him on his fool's mission. Let him die knowing, at least, that Merlin wouldn't waste a single moment of his time mourning him. Let him know that Merlin would keep on living his best life, with or without Arthur's presence shielding him from the full power of the throne. Merlin marched past the prince with his head held up a bit higher than he usually carried it, but if this was truly the last time that he saw the prince, well…Merlin refused to let Arthur go thinking Merlin was still a sniveling coward like he had been reduced to under the prince's care. He only made it a few steps past though, when he suddenly stopped and took a good look around at his surroundings. Realizing he was absolutely nowhere that he thought he should be.

For one, Merlin wasn't standing outside the Royal suites, ready to be carted into his cell of a bed chambers once again to finish off his grounding, as the king would have wanted him to be. No…instead, Merlin had found himself in a familiar hallway, one that was as familiar as the dirt beaten road that led right to his hut back in Ealdor…a familiar space that was meant to bring him to the safety of his home. And he was staring at the faded gold plaque on the wall, a nice coating of dust almost obscuring the words completely, that said: ROYAL PHYSICIAN: GAIUS. Merlin had been so stuck in his argument with Arthur, so sure that Arthur was taking him back to his prison, that he hadn't realized the two of them had started going in the opposite direction. Further and further away from the room that felt too big, with the bed that felt too soft, with the door that would allow a monster to enter his room whenever he pleased. And instead, he had been brought to a place that seemed to smell of fumes more times it didn't, that had kept him hidden when all he wanted to do was simply disappear into nothingness, that had memories of friends and dinners and his uncle. Unwavering from his side in a world that was designed to watch him as he failed in one way or the other.

"I thought it might be better for your recovery if you were under more constant watch from your uncle. You know…head injuries can become something that is very serious in a heartbeat, I wouldn't want anything to happen because you'd be alone in your…in the royal chambers." Arthur answered, voice sounding as if he was beaten and broken down, having apparently read the questions on his face with hardly a glance. Merlin wasn't so sure how he felt about that…being read so easily by the enemy. But that was a secondary issue…the first concern Merlin had was…what about Uther? If Uther decided to check in and found him not in his chambers where he was supposed to be. There was a reason he had gone to the Royal suites in the first place. If it was really so easy to just decide to spend whatever 'punishment' he might still be under wherever he wanted…then why had Merlin gone to the Royal suites to begin with. And again, Merlin and his silent question was answered placidly, "My father will be dealt with on the matter if he questions things. I just figured you would be more comfortable in a place you've spent more time in. I'm sure your uncle will be down soon…I'll leave you to it, then."

Arthur nodded stiffly to Merlin, as if Merlin was nothing more than this random acquaintance he had been forced to work with and would now never be forced to see again. And Arthur left without another word, turning around and striding as fast as his legs could carry him. Merlin's brows furrowed into the center of his forehead, glancing from Arthur's rapidly disappearing back and towards his uncle's chambers. Did Arthur think Merlin was going to grovel just because he had left him here, instead of his horrible royal suite? Did Arthur think he would become a groveling mess now that 'this' was probably the last argument they would ever have with the other? Did Arthur think he was doing Merlin a favor, as if he couldn't have broken out of his suites and snuck down here himself if he truly wanted to go through all the trouble? Merlin couldn't really see what Arthur's plan was for this, why be somewhat attentive to Merlin's needs now of all times, when death was coming for him? Why be generous, when everything was about to start crashing down on top of the prince? It wasn't as if any kind of manipulation attempt was going to work once Arthur was dead and buried…he wouldn't be around to move Merlin into whatever plan he had crafted in his head…

Stupid prince.

Merlin decided thinking about this wasn't worth the hassle, nor the headache trying to form in his head. Let Arthur continue to be a freak, a freak who had motivations that never seemed to line up, since he wasn't going to have any opportunities to weird Merlin out anymore. Not after tonight. Not whenever he finally drew his last breath. Not when he followed a fool's plan that would only lead him to the pits of hell where he could burn for all eternity. Following along with almost the exact path Merlin had when desperation had caught him in its grip and tried swallowing him whole…Merlin clenched his jaw tight. And walked into his chambers, slamming the door behind him without another thought on the subject.

X

Arthur Pendragon screamed, a loud and guttural scream that ripped through his throat as he swept his arms out, sweeping aside empty planted and their matching empty goblets that had been left there for when the servants gave him his next meal. A meal he probably wouldn't eat, as the goblets-far more than he would ever need during one meal, hit the ground with a loud clatter, a clatter that did nothing to alleviate Arthur's pain. He wanted to destroy more than just a few cups that weren't even dented, and the prince carried with him that thought as he grabbed onto a beautiful crystal plate and flung the piece of glass as hard as he could at the wall. It hit the stones with a loud, shattering sound before glass rained down to the floor. Sharp and jagged and pointing up as if preparing to ruin the first man that dared step on it, but Arthur wasn't let done, as he grabbed onto a chair and lifted it above his head with the kind of strength he didn't even know he possessed. Before flinging the wooden thing as hard as he could against the floor…it didn't break, but the sound echoing in Arthur's ear left him with very little relief.

In fact, the thundering in Arthur's ears almost drowned everything else, as he threw himself forward and grabbed onto the edge of his dining table. Taking in breaths as if he thought he was about to have a heart attack despite his young age, sweat sticky and stale coating him in places he didn't know sweat would be able to cling. Making him dirty and unkept, but honestly, who really cared of such things? Why should Arthur care about such things when he's never going to get another warm bath again? Who cared about such things, when Merlin's on the other side of the castle wishing Arthur's death was this long suffering pain. 'Drown in a creek' he had said…and Arthur certainly felt as if he'd about to drown now. Too much was going on in his head all at once, not enough air to keep his brain flow steady. Everything too much, and yet somehow nothing is enough for him. Twist this way or twist that way, the end results were going to be the same. Because no matter what brave front he placed on his face, there was a true Arthur couldn't hide from…

He CARED.

Arthur cared that Merlin wanted to see him dead, wanted to see him losing his breath and losing the fight and becoming only a meal for a creature that never should have existed in their land. Arthur cared that Merlin and him were never going to be on good terms, that he was never going to be able to share a smile with the boy like Lancelot did, or walk throughout the village without becoming like a scene from some overdramatic play meant to entertain those that could afford to see it. He cared that Merlin's last sight of him was going to be where he was nothing more than a mess, not nearly as put together as he usually was when they saw each other. He cared that Merlin would look back on these last four months of their marriage, and be at peace with Arthur's death, because it was a little loss to him compared to their filth Arthur had put him through. And he bloody well cared that he had ran out of time, that this had been the last of his appearances with Merlin and he had completely blown it. Straight from the bloody start, when he couldn't damn well keep his own fucking mouth shut…

Arthur was a stupid, stupid man.

Who had reacted without thinking and was now suffering consequences other people wouldn't force on him.

Not like Merlin would…

Holding Arthur accountable for his actions, instead of just letting it go simply because of Arthur's position among the court.

Another guttural roar forcibly ripped itself from Arthur's throat, which made him sound more like a beast than an actual man, before he couldn't contain his wildness anymore. And Arthur kicked the table leg made out of this solid pine, at least three inches deep and damn near unbreakable. But Arthur sure gave it his best shot, screaming and kicking until his toes started to feel numb and his exhaustion dragged his figure down. Exhaustion from life, Arthur thought as he forced himself away from the table when the leg refused to budge beneath the force of his blows…it was truly a remarkable thing. How Arthur had destroyed his room so many times in the last three months, had screamed and cursed to the heavens because of something pertaining to Merlin. His own guards must have gotten used to it, because nobody watching over the stairs came running to find out if he was being attacked or not. Which was…for the best. The blond was meant to be getting ready now, preparing himself for a final battle where it would only leave one man-or beast-standing above the other. He was meant to be calm and cold and collected, ready to do his duty without another thought on whether or not he should actually go through with his father's orders.

Because god, Merlin had called the plan stupid from the beginning, and Arthur was liable to agree with him. It was stupid, but it was also something he would have done without a second thought if this whole situation had happened long before he had met Merlin. Arthur had been prepared for this, had been trained knowing each mission he undertook could quite very well become the very last mission he ever took on. It was his duty, as a prince and future leader, to take on these dangerous quests in order to prove to his people that he was going to lead them into an age of prosperity when his time on the throne came. But this was just so different now…Arthur wasn't simply a man running to do whatever was required of him. He had others to think about…he had a family that was all his own now. Somebody that needed him, even though Arthur hadn't done one thing to prove he could be the kind of man that HE needed in his life.

But for better or worse…

Merlin was his family.

And the silver wedding ring on his finger was a witness to that, of their sacred bond that only death was allowed to break. Standing for something that should have stood against the test of even time itself…but Arthur had dug himself into a bigger pit than he was already in with Merlin…making that horrible comment about Merlin's suicide attempt. As if it hadn't wrecked Arthur the same way it's wrecked Merlin. But that was selfish of Arthur…thinking his suffering came any place near where Merlin's was at. Arthur didn't even have any excuses for why he had said it in the first place, he certainly hadn't been thinking it before the words had came out like a floodgate. Perhaps Arthur was simply pissed that all twenty years of his life was going to amount to whether or not he completed one mission. Perhaps Arthur was trying to come to terms with dying…it's one thing to know he 'might' die on a mission, but it was quite another to know for a certainty. And Arthur had done what he had always done when he felt like he was pushed into a tight spot…he had lashed out. And Merlin had became his victim, torn asunder by a few words that Arthur would never be able to swallow back…

Never be allowed to forget…

Arthur didn't hesitate, striding across his room in quick motions before he was side sweeping with his arm at the stuff on his desktop. His frustration was just so high, and his entire body shook with sorrow and grief as he watched all the pieces of loose parchments flapping on the floor. He swept again and watched as several broken quills and an ink pot shattered upon the ground, giving him a new stain on his floor that the servants would need to clean…though this room would probably be closed off once Arthur had moved on. The room that's been meant to house Camelot's Prince, but would have no Prince to house…he was going to need more. More destruction, more pain, more outlets to help get him through this night. And Arthur grabbed onto the final thing situated alongside the rest of his belongings…the package. The package Morris had brought after having snuck into his rooms that one time…the package that had been left just sitting there that Arthur had never bothered to open because he didn't give a crap what was in it among everything else that had been going on at the time of its delivery. And Arthur still didn't care, it wasn't as if he was going to need it in the damn afterlife. So he threw it with all the force he could muster behind his shoulders at the wall, before whipping around to grab onto something else without bothering to wait long enough to see it hit.

…It hit the wall…

And Arthur stopped himself from grabbing onto the back of his chair to yank it out from under the table so it could be thrown across the room as well, a loud and unnatural clanging of metal on metal reaching his eardrums. His hand was tight around the curve on the back of his chair, hard whipping around to stare down at the package now resting on the floor at the foot of his wardrobe. His brows creased together into the center of his forehead…he couldn't say what the hell that sound had been about. It was nothing but metal slapping against itself, but for some reason, it filled his stomach with dread. As if something is inside of his stomach, threatening to eat a hole through the lining inside of his gut to claw its way out of him. But staring at the package was doing Arthur no favors…just staring at the thing wasn't going to make it suddenly reveal all its secrets to him. The only way for Arthur to know what that noise had been…was to open the thing himself…so that was exactly what Arthur decided to do.

The prince released his tight grip along the back of the chair and strode right up to it, before staring down at it hesitantly. It didn't look like it was anything out of the ordinary, the packaging plain and simple, just yellow paper wrapped around and tied down with a few strings to keep it closed for transport. But for all Arthur knew, there could be some kind of deadly weapon in it…a poison that was meant to knock him out or kill him in seconds if he opened it. These were the same thoughts Arthur had before, when the package first arrived inside his chambers, but Arthur had been distracted by other things…Merlin…to pay the thing any mind. So it had been sitting on the edge of his desk, slowly starting to gather dust these last few days as Arthur ran about the castle. But what the hell…Arthur was going to meet his end by some winged creature. One simple package wasn't going to be the end of him. Though would that really be such an awful thing…

Arthur slowly picked the packaging up, feeling the insides through the wraps as best as he could, his hand feeling the harsh edges of something metal that he couldn't quite place. It felt almost…circular…he should know what that was, shouldn't he? Maybe his brain was just scrambled after the afternoon that he'd had, he wasn't able to process exactly what it was. But he might as well take a look at it…it wasn't like he was ever coming back to his rooms again? It would be his last time to look…his last time to be in here…his last time destroying the chambers completely…his last time to bury himself in his grief and regret over his past actions with Merlin…Arthur choked down a swallow past the lump that rested heavy and hot in the center of his throat. Before ripping open the paper concealing his package…it only took one glimpse inside for Arthur to know just what it was. It only took a brief hint of the glittering gold peeking out from the papers for him to recognize what he was looking at. One single glance, before Arthur dropped the package with a horrific yelp, throwing himself backwards with enough force that it threw him onto his backside. He didn't stop there, as he scooted himself backwards across the floor until his back slammed into the side of his desk and there was nowhere else for him to move.

He kept staring at the glitter of metal on metal shining through the gap of the wrappings…

His breathing growing harsher…

Feeling as if a hand was clenching at his throat…

Nononononono….

For an entire two days, Arthur's had that package sitting directly on the edge of his table, just waiting for him to be bored enough to decide it was worth his time checking out. For two whole days, Arthur had sat beside it as he read his way through a few necessary reports. It had been sitting there as Arthur slept restlessly through his nights, had sat there as Arthur dressed and undressed throughout the days, had sat there while Arthur ate his meals as if he had not a single care in the whole wide world. It had stared him down, festering under his dismissive glances, carrying within it all the guilt Arthur had been storing up inside of himself ever since Merlin had drunk that damn poisoned cup all of those weeks ago. And Arthur hadn't known it was there, hadn't known it would be enough to cause him so much mental anguish…a harsh knocking was at his door suddenly, and Arthur whipped his head around at the sound. There was a swell of panic shredding open his guts, beating alongside his heartbeat, as he saw the locked door starting to wiggle desperately.

"Sire? Are you alright? I thought I heard something? May I come in?"

The Knight standing outside the door was Gregory, who usually stood guard at the bottom of the stairs. He was a good soldier, always did his job without any severe failures, and took keeping Arthur's Consort safety seriously. He was the knight Arthur wouldn't mind seeing in different circumstances…clearly Gregory had ignored him destroying his room, but Arthur's yell of distress must've had a different sound, alerting Gregory that there was something very much wrong happening within Arthur's chambers…but now was not the time to see him. He was certain Gregory was going to burst down the doors if he thought Arthur is under attack. Arthur was grateful he had enough foresight to lock his chamber door when he came running in here earlier, because it gave him a few precious seconds to react before the door could be kicked off its hinges.

"I'M FINE!"

Arthur shouted as loudly and as calmly as he could, trying to sound normal as he dove forward to seize the packaging in his hands just in case Gregory came through that door anyway…he couldn't allow anybody to see something that is so incredibly shameful. Arthur wasn't entirely sure he was all that convincing though, as his voice had cracked like it had when he first became a teenager and he started the slow transition into manhood. But the door handful stopped moving at least, and Arthur whipped his head back and forth frantically, trying to find some kind of hiding spot to place this. But everything suddenly seemed to be too open, nothing good enough for him to store his shake where it would not be found after his room was emptied when he died, and the package itself was starting to burn in his hands. He was sure it was only in his head, the thing itself was actually quite cold, but Arthur's guilt manifested strong, as his own body tried telling him he shouldn't be touching this. That it never should have been made in the first place. That its very creation was a sin itself…

"Sire?"

Gregory's voice was hesitant from the other side of the door, sounding as if he was unsure as to whether or not he should proceed inside anyway, or admit he was really as alright as he said he was. Arthur bit back a curse, giving up on an actual hiding spot, before instinct and sheer fear over being caught led him to taking the cowards way out. Arthur dove behind his bed, ducking down on the other side that wasn't facing the door, ducking low so not even his head could be seen from the other side of Gregory came in. The package settled itself on his lap, Arthur curling himself around in a ball as if he was trying to shield the outside world from looking at it. His curtains were wide open, the sun lowering itself in the sky as night approached was the only witness to his shame and his past depravity, but Arthur still felt as if the whole world was watching. As if the walls had a million different eyes staring down at him and his pitiful hiding spot behind the bed. Eyes that had came from the villagers that were meant to look up to him, eyes from his soldiers that he was meant to lead, eyes that seemed to be Morgana's glaring at his accusingly, eyes from his father staring at him in disgust. And yes, even eyes from Merlin…looking at him as if Arthur had simply did something normal and this wouldn't have surprised him, because the blond was already so low in Merlin's eyes, nothing could surprise him anymore.

"I'm fine, Gregory. Really…just return to your post and done worry about me. I need to do something and prepare myself for battle…you don't need to be here for that. I'll be out when I'm done, and you'll see…you'll see…see that nothing is wrong."

Arthur's voice trailed off pitifully, his eyes staring down at nothing, his fingers starting to play absentmindedly with the wrappings as if he knew it was there but wasn't registering what he was doing. He didn't even move when Gregory murmured a soft 'yes, sire' and his footsteps walking away signaling him doing what Arthur had said and returning to his post downstairs. Arthur must've sat there for several minutes, staring into space as he tried to shakily get a hold of himself, and even then, it was only when shadows started being cast along the room did he look back up. The sun had started lowering itself further, it would not be long now before Arthur was expected to leave, and he still needed to go and get his knights prepared. He didn't have time for anything. But this…this is something he made time for. He wouldn't have been able to leave even if there was a team of horses to drag him out of here.

But sitting here…sitting here wasn't going to hide away the ugly truth that was currently sitting in his lap. And so, with that thought in mind, Arthur turned his gaze back down to the package…so innocent looking with its paper, but hiding a cruel truth that only Arthur would understand in full. His fingers were literally shaking so bad that he could hardly remove the papers, he kept on dropping it as if it was on fire and burning his fingertips, which was only going to prolong the inevitable. But finally, Arthur managed to toss the paper aside, leaving the thick and heavy golden chains spread out across his lap like some kind of art work…these were the chains he had commissioned for the royal metal worker to make for him. It had been a month ago when Arthur had ordered for them to be made…just before the royal banquet that had changed everything for him…putting Arthur's entire worldview onto his axis the second he had saw his little consort following to the floor and struggling to breathe on his own.

Fuck! Arthur squeezed his eyes as tightly closed as he could, squeezing hard at the length of chain until he felt it cutting into the palm of his hand, trying to breathe through the burning in his lungs. Arthur remembered the day he went to have these commissioned…how furious he had been at the time, wanting to do nothing more than to give Merlin the same taste of pain he had given Arthur that day. Arthur had these made just hours after he had heard the rumors that warned him of his consort's unfaithfulness, just hours after Arthur had laid his hands on Merlin and cursed him out in front of the entire village. God…he had been nothing but a naive fool back then. Resorting to such horrible measures to get back at Merlin for something he hadn't done, resorting to something the prince even knew back then had been depraved…for something as simple and as stupid as wanting 'revenge.' Even if Merlin HAD been unfaithful…Arthur was wrong to handle it the way he had. He was wrong to have ever had these made in the first place. Wrong for even holding them in his hands now, as if the gold locks were poisoned meant to choke the life out of him just as it tried to choke Merlin once upon a time.

Arthur studied the chains as if he thought they were going to disappear from his hands if he looked away for even a second…if only he could ever be lucky enough for that. But here they sat…ten feet long and shining brighter than any golden bar Arthur had seen in his life. The length would have given the prince a lot of space to work with, long enough for him to chain Merlin to his ceiling if he desired it…which he had…that had been part of his plan. To keep his lovely angel chained to his ceiling for as long as he wanted him to be, stripped bare and leaving nothing for Arthur to wonder over because he would've been able to see it all stretched out before him. There were even a locking mechanism in the chain that allowed Arthur to control the length, he played with it for only a moment, resetting the chain to nine feet and then eight feet and then down to seven and six and five…Merlin's six foot body would have have pulled taut with that length. He would have been forced to stand on his tip toes to try stopping the golden cuffs holding his arms above his head from cutting into his wrists…it would have shined brilliantly against the pale beauty of Merlin's natural skin tone.

It was sickening to even think about that now…to think how not even a month ago Arthur would have used these chains. He would have, the second he got this package, walked down to Gaius' chambers with a determined skip to his step. He would have walked up the stairs to Merlin's room and dragged that unfaithful bastard out of bed, his consort's legs bare and covered by nothing more than goosebumps from the cold air because Merlin 'didn't wear pants to sleep' and marched him back to his chambers. Merlin would have screamed at him, he would have cussed him out loud enough to wake up the entire castle if he was desperate enough, but nobody would have been brave enough to stop Arthur from locking them in his rooms. Merlin would have been crying, his fear and confusion delicious to the prince as Arthur forcibly started stripping him down to his skin. Arthur would have assumed Merlin was confused by what he was doing, but Merlin wouldn't have understood at all. Arthur would have took his shirt off, dragging the cloth over his head and making Merlin's hair puff out in all directions, assuming thousands of other men had already gotten to place their hands on the expanse of skin being revealed to him. Merlin would've tried to punch him, but Arthur was a trained man and would've simply knocked him onto the floor before joining him, straddling his legs so he couldn't kick him as Arthur wrenched his undergarments down to his knees. Merlin would've been squirming, struggling to kick him off, maybe even crying a little as the fear had started taking hold of him…Arthur wouldn't have realized he was the first man to ever see Merlin's bare cock, nestled softly between his thighs in a thatch of darkened curls. Arthur would have still been under the impression that Merlin had already slept with more men than he could count…maybe he would have gone a step further and slapped Merlin across the face again. Because he was being 'selfish' by allowing all those other men to slide their horribly disgusting body parts inside his hole, but throwing a fit when Arthur demanded to see all that was rightfully his by marriage.

Merlin would have started begging for answers as Arthur finally slid the shorts down the rest of his legs, tossing them aside since Merlin wouldn't be needing to cover up for a long time to come. Arthur wouldn't answer him, liking that his silence made terror appear in Merlin's eyes now that he was naked and so very vulnerable to Arthur's wondering gaze. Arthur would have taken the very same chains he was holding now, a golden shackle on each end that's meant to keep one of Merlin's four limbs in place at his discretion, and gotten it hooked up to his ceiling. Merlin's wrists would have been first, tying them together before it was fitted above his head. His Consort would dangle there like a fish on a hook trying to break free, wiggling helplessly as Arthur watched sadistically…bits of the gold chain that connected the wrists shackles to the ankle shackles would have been brushing Merlin's nipples. Arthur would have been able to see how they hardened from the light friction, would have seen the blood rising toward the flesh as they darkened from a pale pink to aching red, would have seen the way they peeked and pebbled as if silently asking for Arthur to touch one just to see if it was as hard as it looked. It would have silently begged for Arthur to pinch one, just so Arthur could see if it was possible to make it harder. It would have been silently PLEADING for Arthur to get his watering mouth to wrap over it, tasting the nipple as he licked it with the flat of his tongue, and sucked on it as if he was a babe trying to suck milk from it's mothers tit. How beautifully his consort would have cried, tears streaming down his cheeks as Arthur's hands would have roamed down his body to map out those curves, unable to resist a call when it was being made so sweetly by Merlin wiggling and swaying about in front of him. Now that he had gotten a taste, the depraved Arthur would've wanted more, the tit against his lips just as delicious as the sight of his lovely consort's nipples poking out of that damn golden shirt Merlin had worn days ago.

He would have been focused more on what his hands were doing, sliding the lengths of his fingers down along Merlin's sides and watching as he tried his best to flinch away from Arthur's wondering touch. That would have went and completely pissed the prince off…strangers were good enough to touch upon his slutty consort, but Arthur's hands were too dirty to have the same honor of doing it? Arthur would have sucked brutally on that pert nipple throbbing along his lips, listening to Merlin cry out from the surprise as his body jolted against his chains. The clinking of loose metal, Merlin not completely as hooked up as he should be, ringing in Arthur's ears as he dropped his hands from where he was holding Merlin's ribcage, and straight down onto his bottom with not one warning. Sluts didn't get warnings, they got punishments. Merlin wouldn't be able to do anything more than sway there as Arthur squeezed both mounds in each of his hand, hard enough that he was sure he was leaving the imprint of his fingers against the skin, holding the cheeks open as wide as they could go so Merlin could feel the cold burst of air against his slutty little hole. His dark angel should have shown him gratitude for not punishing him worse than what he was already doing…should have bloody thanked Arthur for touching all over his body despite it being defiled multiple times before.

Merlin would have ended up crying if Arthur had gone through with that plan of his, his entire body shuddering and shaking and flinching. Not with arousal, but with pure unadulterated fear. The kind of fear one felt when the unknown and the mystery of what was happening was more scary than actually knowing what was going to happen. Arthur would have been too lost in his own intense pleasure to notice the signs, to care about the distress, to note the innocence in Merlin's eyes starting to fade. He would have been caught up with the taste of Merlin's nipple, like the sweetest of sins, throbbing beautifully as he nipped at it with his teeth. He would have been too caught up in the scent coming off Merlin's skin, the same scent that hovered in the air just before the wildest of thunderstorms was about to approach. He would have been too focused with the soft and unblemished skin beneath his hands…fresh only in a way that said one had never been taken as somebody else's before…and convinced himself it was only another part of Merlin's allure. Another way to trick him…to force Arthur to take it easy on him. But Arthur would have thought he was too smart for that, would have done worse simply because he could and nobody would stop him.

Least of all Merlin.

But Arthur's real prize would've rested dead center on Merlin's body, innocent and pure in Arthur's eyes despite the excitement it would have greeted others with. Arthur would have noticed that at first…how absolutely flat and placid his little consort's cock was, long and thin and falling from the thatch of darkened curls surrounding the base. It would have been soft, as if it wasn't getting any pleasure out of what Arthur was doing to him. Arthur wouldn't have liked it like that at all…sluts were all about not controlling themselves. Arthur's brief little touches on Merlin should have awoken it like a beast, the cock should've been an angry red color and pointing upwards as if BEGGING Arthur to show it just a bit of mercy as it bobbed in the air there. A sentiment being all its own, awake and alive and dribbling with pre-cum down the sides because ARTHUR forced it too. But with the cock looking limp, it would have made Arthur question what he was doing wrong? It would have made Arthur question his own manhood, or his ability as a hot-blooded man, if he couldn't even excite his slutty consort.

Arthur would have been furious, desperate to prove himself to Merlin that he's LUCKY to have Arthur throwing away his desire for girls just to show his angel what a real lover could do for him.

Arthur would have grabbed the base of Merlin's cock with everything he had in him, squeezing the length of flesh until it felt like he could pull the thing off by yanking on it once. Too hard though, too rough even for a slut to enjoy…Merlin would have cried out and looked up at Arthur with wide eyes. And he would've been pleased by this reaction, knowing Merlin's attention wouldn't stray away from him for even a second, even as Arthur relaxed his hand so that he wasn't squeezing too roughly. Arthur WANTED Merlin to enjoy what was happening to him, to feel betrayed by his own body as Arthur worked it up into a frenzy none of his other bed partners had seen before. And Arthur would have gotten right to work, stroking up and down the long shaft of that cock to work life back into it…he probably would have been clumsy at first, having never touched a man's cock besides his own before. But he would have gotten the hang of it, running off the high that was Merlin's…EVERYTHING! Jerking up and down, tugging on the flesh at a pace that grew progressively faster the longer it took for his dark angel to respond, squeezing roughly here and there whenever he would forget himself, caught up by the sin of what he was doing. Paying special attention to the tip, scrapping the rough pad of his thumb across the top to be the first to be aware of whatever came dribbling out.

Arthur would have looked like the cat that got the canary when he finally saw it starting to twitch in his hand, when he finally realized he had done something that interested Merlin. It would have started off small at first, his tiny consort's hatred for Arthur battling with the desire racking throughout his body…nothing more than twitches to encourage Arthur and spurn him on. It wouldn't be long though, once Arthur got him started, before he finally got liquid pouring from Merlin's cock. Sweet liquid that would have made Arthur's mouth water, eyes locked on the tip growing ruby red with unbidden fascination that came from watching it transform from a limp and useless thing to…this. But Merlin's cock really was useless, Arthur would have decided with a sadistic twist of his lips…Merlin's cock wasn't meant for fucking. There was no reason for him to have a cock at all, considering he would never push it into a woman. And Arthur very much doubted there was a man that would find allow Merlin to be anything but the one being fucked…Merlin was so beautiful that he couldn't be anything but the one fucked. But Arthur would allow him to keep it…it would be far more fun than Arthur would've thought to work him fun. Tease him, only to not go ahead and deliver on what Merlin was waiting for…

But Merlin would be a fighter…

He wouldn't have started simpering without some serious training from Arthur beforehand.

Something they hadn't had time for quite yet…

Merlin's legs were still free, and he would have reminded Arthur why the ankle cuffs had came with the chains when he kneed the prince between the legs…it had already happened before. It didn't take much imagination to imagine that exact scenario happening…Arthur would have been forced to let go of Merlin's prick so he could grab his own, bending over in pain. Hissing as he cupped his hands around his painfully throbbing member…Arthur probably would've been more pissed about his play being interrupted than the kick to his family jewels. The anger would have rose…Arthur would bet Merlin had never tried attacking any of his other lovers before. So what right did Merlin have for attacking him, when all Arthur was doing was pleasing him? And with how rigid Merlin's cock was standing, nobody could have told Arthur he was doing a bad job with their first real sexual encounter.

Full of red hot rage, Arthur would have righted himself back up and slapped his consort across the face once more, the boy falling back with only the gold chains keeping him on his feet. Maybe bruises like the ones that decorated the consort's face the first time he had Merlin in the courtyard would've appeared, and maybe Arthur would have dropped down to his knees, ignoring the bob of the cock bouncing in front of his face as he grabbed onto Merlin's ankles. The links of the chain falling down Merlin's chest would have ended somewhere by his belly button, the chain splitting into two before ending at thick gold cuffs meant for each ankle. Merlin wouldn't have been able to fight him off as Arthur went to work tying Merlin up to prevent anymore fight from the boy…one ankle cuff went around one slim ankle. Arthur would have wished he could stop and bring Merlin's leg up so his foot could rest against his shoulder, so the prince could bring his nose up against the curve of Merlin's knee and breathe in all of the sweat that perfumed Merlin's skin. But he was made of stronger stuff than that, and Arthur would have switched to the other foot, tightening the strap of the cuff until Merlin wouldn't be able to jerk his leg free.

Arthur wouldn't have been done with him yet, knowing that there was another chain that needed to be put into place to complete the picture. He would have stood back up, being clinical with his demeanor when Merlin glared up at him through his dark bangs, walking around to the back of him so he could reach the fifth chain hanging in the back. Merlin's back would've been rigid as Arthur pulled up the chain…the length of the chain was designed funny so it split off in two chains at the bottom before joining into one. The two links going under Merlin's legs and connecting to the front like some kind of harness would have been framing Merlin's bottom, the chain tight enough to hold Merlin's bottom cheeks apart just enough for Arthur to catch a brief hint of Merlin's red hole as it tried peeking up at him. The gold framed the hole like a picture frame, which wasn't something Arthur wouldn't have minded having on his wall, somewhere Merlin would see everytime he was held prisoner here. But for now, he would have had to content himself with carrying the excess chain, lining it up neatly with Merlin's spine, and in one smooth motion, the supple collar would've been wrapped around Merlin's neck. Arthur would have bucked it up so that the lock was on the back of Merlin's neck for two purposes. One…if Merlin did manage to somehow slip himself free from the chains, it would have been harder to get the collar itself off. And two…everytime Merlin moved his spine, the chain that was hooked through a silver ring on the collar caused it to tug, not enough for it to choke Merlin. But just enough for Merlin to fear the pressure.

Arthur would have marveled at the sight, at the stretch of Merlin's legs as the length of the chain forced his ankles apart to open him up some. At the way all the gold made Merlin's pale body shine in ways that it hadn't before. He would have been so tempted to pull on the chain going up Merlin's spine, watching it snap back into place against his spine when he let go. Was it strong enough to leave a red welt? Or would Arthur have to do that himself? No problem, either way…the front itself would have been just as delicious as the back. The chains tracing Merlin's legs, the chains connecting into one at Merlin's trembling and lithe little belly, the way it went between Merlin's beautiful red nipples, curving over Merlin's collarbones before continuing up to where they held up Merlin's hands. Arthur had spent thousands of times imagining the sight, but nothing in the world could have prepared him for what it looked like when it was really in front of him…

Only two things were missing to complete the picture, two things Arthur didn't have but would have been able to get later on.

The first would have been Merlin's wedding ring…Merlin had stopped wearing it at some point after he had woken up from being poisoned. But the blond had only discovered that sometime this week. Nothing that Arthur did while Merlin was all chained up would amount to anything, if Merlin didn't have that one bit of jewelry on to remind him who he belonged too. He would have to find it, the prince doubted Merlin would be forthcoming with that kind of information, as it would have made Arthur happy. And true, the silvering color of the ring would have broken up the golden color scheme Arthur was going for, but…the ring is a non-negotiable topic. Arthur wore his, he always would. Merlin would simply need to get used to wearing his again. And since Merlin wasn't going anyplace for quite some time…he would have plenty of time for it.

The second item would have been a different kind of ring, one far larger than the wedding ring. With a golden color to match the chains and the collar along Merlin's throat…something that would nestle snugly around Merlin's throbbing cock. A cock ring. Arthur had heard of them before, but he had never actually used or seen one before. He had thought they sounded like torture devices, he could only imagine the kind of horrible creature that had designed something that was meant to stop a man from orgasm. It wasn't something Arthur would have ever wanted to end up on the wrong side of. But for somebody like Merlin Pendragon, his wild and defiant consort who had complete lack of self control and not a single ounce of discipline, it would have been the most perfect tool to train Merlin with. His consort would have been used to releasing his load on his lovers whenever he wanted, would have been greedy by not holding back whenever he wanted to release…Merlin would learn that Arthur wouldn't allow that kind of lack of self control in his quarters. And besides, Merlin would be a bit more complicit after some time, when he finally learned Arthur was the one that controlled when and where he could cum. Arthur could force him to cum for him twenty times a day if he wanted too, or if he could keep his cock in it's own prison and work him up everyday without offering even hope for relief.

Another problem for another day…

Arthur would have spent the next several days working on his own self control, knowing it didn't take much for Arthur to want to dive in full force. But without that ring to control the mess Merlin made, Arthur would've had to be far more careful than he wanted to be. Spending his days going back and forth between his work and Merlin's cock…Arthur would be amazed if he could ever keep his hand off the thing. Squeezing it whenever he wanted too as Merlin squealed at his touch, sliding his fist up and down until it was oozing and Merlin had fallen limp in his chains as his body spasmed, pinching at the head until Merlin finally gave in and started thrusting into his hand for more. Always forcing himself to stop when he started recognizing the signs of Merlin getting too close towards the release he craved, tempting Merlin by dragging him right to the brink of his release before making him BEG when Arthur stopped, tugging at the cock until it spent most of their days hard instead of not. But whether or not Arthur had a ring to help him control Merlin…not even Arthur would've been strong enough to resist the temptation laid out in front of him.

Everybody else had gotten a taste…why shouldn't he?

Maybe it would have taken a week, maybe it would have taken a month, maybe Arthur wouldn't have lasted two days before the want in his veins grew far too much for even him to resist. But either way, the inevitable would've happened one way or the other. At some point, Arthur would have stepped up behind his consort, although whether it was a spur of the moment decision or something Arthur had been thinking of doing the entire time he held Merlin captive was a mystery, and untied his pants. Arthur would have pulled his own cock out from his pants, already hard and aching, pulsing with the power of being the one in command of Merlin. He would have grabbed Merlin by his thin and very much breakable hips and jerked the consort until his bottom was pulled out, the gold chains framing his hole pulling tight so it widened the space and gave Arthur a real good look at the red rosebud resting between pale cheeks. And that would have been when his self control snapped, when he pushed himself into the hot heat that was Merlin's innermost parts. A groan would have escaped his lips as Merlin's entire body went rigid, the consort's lips silently falling wide open, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as Arthur drilled himself forward. Pushing his way through the tight ring of muscles, sliding past any resistance that tried to meet him, not even using lube to ease his way because he WANTED his dark angel to feel the burn of Arthur throbbing inside him. Burrowing deep in a way that could not be so easily removed…

And once Arthur was seated all the way inside of him, it would have felt as if Merlin was holding him there, his hole clenching around him as it fluttered all around him. Caressing Arthur's center within his depths, encasing him in his silken heat, swallowing him whole until Arthur couldn't resist the delectable power he had over Merlin. Arthur wouldn't have believed in being soft, not for somebody who had welcomed many cocks of all shapes and sizes inside of his cute little hole, and Arthur would damn well make sure he was the one Merlin remembered. With his hands clenched around those thin little hipbones, just shy of crushing them into dust beneath the force of his hands, he would have pulled out until just the tip of his cock remained inside that warmth…before he rammed himself back inside with enough force to throw Merlin forward. Maybe Merlin would have grunted as the chains kept him in place to be battered from Arthur's abuse, or maybe he would have screamed as Arthur started ramming in and out of him at such a fast pace that it would have made his head start to spin. Maybe Merlin would have cried, tears streaming down his cheeks as the prince got the hang out of this whole 'fucking a male' thing and started acting as if he knew what he was doing, throwing himself into the task being set out before him. Merlin's heat fluttering and closing around him every other second as he worked himself up into a frenzy, jerking Merlin's body back by his hips in order to be kept inside that heat for as long as possible. Merlin's head tossed forward, Merlin's burning red cock bouncing wildly in between his legs as the prince got a steady pace going, his legs trembling as Arthur tossed his head back and groaned loud enough for the heavens to hear him begging for mercy,

Merlin's heat would have eventually became too much for the young man, who had done everything he could to resist forcing Merlin beneath him right from the start. But with Merlin's heat constricting around him like some kind of vice, Arthur's bucking would have been less like a man and more like an animal, and leaving him wondering why he had ever tried resisting. Merlin belonged around him, his hole deserved to be turning cheery red as it was forcibly stretched so it could accommodate Arthur's girth…watching the way his cock disappeared into his consort again and again was almost like seeing the gates of heaven as they opened up for him. Or the gates of hell, welcoming him to a life full of this depravity and desperation…Arthur would have exploded when he came. Arthur would have tightened his hands around Merlin's hips till bruises forced against his pale skin when he felt his balls tightening up, he would have pulled Merlin back as he thrusted himself forward one final time, making sure he was buried all the way to the hilt and Merlin could feel every last inch of him throbbing all the way into his stomach. And Arthur would have painted Merlin's insides with jet after jet of his gushing cum, making sure Merlin could feel Arthur marking him so deep that he would never be able to clean Arthur out completely…if his consort had been born with a womb, that's exactly where Arthur knew he'd be aiming for.

Nothing would give Arthur more bliss than feeling Merlin's cock milking him…taking all that he had to offer…offering nothing in return as Arthur didn't allow him the same relief Arthur was taking from him…and…Arthur threw up. It came up like a roaring gush, forcibly dragging Arthur away from the thoughts he had once been obsessed with to the point of insanity. He hardly had time to let the heavy chains slip from his fingers before he dove forward, yanking out his own chamber pot from beneath his bed and burying his face inside of it just in time for the gush to come out. It burned like acid in the back of Arthur's throat, and made him choke and gasp for fresh air that wouldn't come…the smell coming from his own vile gunk invaded his senses until there was nothing left. And the prince just had to THINK about Merlin, his sweet and innocent little angel who had never done anything wrong in his damn life, being placed in such an awful and degrading position. Just imagining hurting Merlin in such a way, from his own hands, had Arthur's stomach churning and another wave of gunk expelled itself from between his lips and landing with a wet smack within his pot.

But Arthur already had hurt him like this…hadn't he? Albeit in far less serious ways, but they had also been sexual in nature. Just last month, when they had gone to the banquet to welcome Mercia to their kingdom, Arthur had allowed his own depravity to take its course. He had…god…Arthur had slipped his hand between Merlin's thighs and touched him inside his legs just because he was the one that wanted to watch Merlin squirm beneath his ministrations. Arthur had thought Merlin was a slut then, he had been curious about what made his men flock to Merlin like a fly to honey…he had wanted Merlin to KNOW he had made a mistake by turning away from Arthur. So Arthur had rubbed him, down the length of his knee and tracing over the insides of his legs…finding just the right spot on Merlin's thigh that he felt it was special enough to bare his own personal symbol for when he decided to make things official and 'brand' that boy of his with his sigil.

Tears that were hot and heavy, each one carrying another sign of the grief that the prince carried inside of him, streamed down in face in endless waves. And his entire body shook as his stomach lurched, boiling acidic vomit spewing out his mouth until he felt like it would never stop…he could almost smell the burn of flesh in his nose. Human meat scorching beneath the pressure of the brand Arthur would have pressed against it, Merlin's knee caught in a death grip just so it wouldn't spasm out of control and ruin the design…as if the design was in any way more important than Merlin's health and willingness. Arthur choked as he gagged, vision blinded by his grief at the terror he would have forced to get Merlin to please him…

God, remembering the way Merlin had been still as Arthur had touched him on that spot, the sheer cluelessness of Arthur's thoughts…Arthur wished he could go back in time and stab himself with a fork or something to force the past him to stop touching Merlin. To stop caressing his leg as if it was Arthur's to touch in the first place. How many times did Merlin try to close his legs on his fingers to stop Arthur from exploring? And how many times did Arthur pry open those legs because he wasn't done and wouldn't be denied? How could Arthur truly justify the way he had dipped and rubbed his fingers against the crease in the leg that separated Merlin's thigh from his crotch? How could he justify the way he kept going even when his father showed up and started talking to them? Oh god…Arthur had been only seconds away from taking the plunge and placing a hand directly on Merlin's crotch to see if it would respond to him the way that it had responded to his past lovers. How could Arthur JUSTIFY his plans when Merlin had given him all the signs that said this wasn't okay. How could Arthur, even under his delusions about Merlin's sexual history, justify the way he had planned on forcing Merlin to cum, stroking his cock through his pants beneath the tabletop, in front of everybody? What kind of sick fuck would do that to a person? What kind of sick fuck would even be tempted to do that to somebody he had never discussed playing around with before? What kind of sick fuck did that to somebody without their full permission and explicit consent…?

And that wasn't the only time Arthur had overstepped his boundaries…it most definitely wasn't the only time Arthur had pushed things further than he really needed foo…like the night of the party meant to celebrate Lancelot becoming a knight? Arthur had swore-SWORE-he would never touch the consort without his permission again. And what had Arthur done that night? He had tossed the drunk boy over his shoulder and carried him, with his arse wiggling beside his face, all the way to his chambers. And now, while that didn't sound like it was a bad thing considering how Merlin would have broken his neck if he tried to go climbing those stairs in his state, the afterwards was…very bad. When he had thrown Merlin down onto his bed and didnt immediately leave him to take care of himself for the night. When he had watched Merlin sprawled out across the bed like some kind of giant starfish without a care in the world, and still didn't walk out that door to give him some privacy. When Arthur had watched, full of shame and panic, as Merlin had stripped himself of his pants and laid along his bed in nothing but an oversized tunic and his undergarments…

Merlin would have NEVER stripped himself down so bare if he realized Arthur was the one standing in his room. Merlin would have NEVER allowed Arthur to see him so vulnerable, completely ripe for the taking, his arse jutted up in the air as he started to doze off. And leaving Arthur to stand there, mesmerized to an almost frightening degree, and stare at the white paleness of Merlin's slim legs. Taking in all the dips and curves and shapes, from his calves to his little wiggling toes to the back of those thighs disappearing beneath ragged shorts that would have been far too easy to rip in half so Arthur could see the rest of him that Merlin had kept hidden. Arthur had been in there for far too long, not actually touching, but surely staring at his milky thighs like some sort of horrid pervert was just as bad as anything else. Surely wondering what it would feel like to touch his pale skin and see if it felt like the same moonlight it was trying to emulate against his fingers was just as horrible? Surely feeling his fingers as they itched, craving to touch the unblemished skin when nobody was around to question him was a disgusting thought? Surely wanting to take advantage of Merlin being unconscious, unable to stop him and unknowing of what he would like to do, was something a..a…a rapist…would do.

More and more vileness ejected from Arthur's lips, the taste heavy across his tongue and burning in his throat…what kind of monster had Arthur turned into, had he always been like this? Or had there been something about his consort that had brought this being Arthur couldn't even recognize up to the surface? The chains shoved off to the side, something that Arthur would've once spent hours stroking so lovingly, were now a mark of his weakness. A mark of exactly how shameful he really was beneath the surface. A reminder of things he kept buried deep in his heart…but it wouldn't remain buried, would it? Somehow or someway it would keep rising to the surface, reminding Arthur of the darkness residing in him. Reminding Arthur about how much he could traumatize Merlin if he allowed his resolves to do better slip for even a single second…if it meant Arthur had to suffer through dream after dream after dream…then so be it. The prince was willing to suffer through his inappropriate dreams if more came his way, as long as it kept Merlin safe from him.

Arthur would allow his dreams to get twisted, his brain confusing the blond's desire to take complete control over Merlin with the sexual aspect that always lingered in Arthur's mind. Arthur had been so horrified and so frantic and…so scared…when he had woken up that time with Merlin's name bursting free from his lips as his cock throbbed under his bedsheets. His body had been burning from the inside out, remembering the shape of Merlin's bare body beneath his as if it had really been there. It had felt so real when he had woken up, felt as if he had been stuck in the throes of passion that should have never been. It was a repeat Arthur would have to live through night after night after night…waking with his dreams still caught in Merlin's body twisting beneath his. He would've been woken up each night with his cock worse than the night before, the taste of Merlin's sweat lingering on his tongue after he laved dream Merlin's nipples into full hardness. His hands would know the exact silken texture surrounding the hole hidden between Merlin's cheeks…perhaps Arthur would even tug the dream Merlin's cock until he came. All in the name of sacrifice, so he wouldn't be tempted to try abusing the real boy…

Or would that only make it worse?

Would Arthur be tempted to hurt Merlin again, once the dreams didn't hit him in the same spots it had?

Arthur already knew how hard it was to contain himself around Merlin…the kiss he had once forced on Merlin, the one his consort liked to scream about when Arthur got to be too much for him…he could still taste it. Even past all the spit and the sick and the…YUCK…that lingered on Arthur's tongue, there was still a certain…flavor lingering beneath it. Sweet decadence. Obviously this was only in Arthur's imagination, it had been a full month since he had assaulted Merlin viciously, there was no way Merlin's taste could still be there. But it was just so addictive, something sweet that drew Arthur back and made him want to see if the next kiss would taste just as sweet as the first. But the first kiss had ended up being cruel, he had taken it from Merlin who hadn't wanted to give it to him, and had shamed himself and his consort by doing so. Arthur could bury all the memories of it as far into his subconsciousness as he could, but…assault was this vile word that had been spit at him from beautiful pink lips, once bitten red from Arthur's teeth so very long ago.

And it wasn't wrong.

He ASSAULTED Merlin.

Again and again and again.

Disgraced him.

With his body, with his words, and with his mind.

Again and again and again.

Never having quite learned his lesson until he was forced too.

And even then, it never quite stuck.

So desperate to do the right thing, Arthur wasn't quite seeing until just now…that HE was the one that hurt Merlin the most. So desperate to be the best, he had WANTED to do terrible things to Merlin…would he had even realized Merlin was actually a virgin when he raped him? If Arthur had gotten his hands on him before he discovered the truth? Would Arthur have heard Merlin's horrid yelps of pain as Arthur viciously fucked through his virgin hole, or would he laugh at the idea of his slutty Merlin being unable to take him? Would he have gone and fucked Merlin again and again and again, using him as nothing more than just a dumpster for Arthur's pleasure, refusing to recognize the signs of life leaving Merlin's eyes each time Arthur raped him? Would he have slapped Merlin if the boy tried asking why Arthur kept sliding his cock into his hole, and then fucked him again in punishment after the consort acted like the clueless virgin Arthur thought him to be? Would Arthur have ever stopped? Or would he have ended up driven mad by power and lust and sinful control, using Merlin as the years passed them by.

Arthur liked to think he was better than that…

But he also knew what Merlin did to him…

And he knew that was EXACTLY what would have happened if Merlin hadn't tried to commit suicide right in front of him.

And now look where Arthur was, the prince thought as he finally sat back with a breathy gasp after prying his face from the chamber pot. He was sitting here on his bottom, on the eve of his death hour, staring at a pair of chains that the prince SWORE would never see the light of day again. Arthur couldn't go back in time and stop himself from having them made, but he sure as hell could be sure that they would never grace Merlin's limbs. Staring down at them, Arthur felt his heart start pumping his blood faster, awakening a furious determination in him. In one swift motion, Arthur rolled himself over onto his knees, grabbing up the papers the chain had been wrapped in. His fingers trembled, but didn't waver as Arthur shoved them back into the wrappings. The wrist cuffs meant to keep Merlin's hands tied above his head, the ankle cuffs meant to hold the consort's legs apart, the golden collar that was so soft and supple beneath his hands that was meant to mark Merlin as his property…it all went into the paper.

He never wanted to see any of this again, he didn't even want it to stay inside his room, but he didn't know how to dispose of them himself without someone seeing. Golden chains and a collar wasn't exactly something most people were carrying about on their person, but he couldn't keep it out in the open either. It was making him sick all over again just looking at them, and knowing what the plan for them had been…Arthur had thought it would be so easy to capture his consort in these chains and hold him like a prisoner. How could he have known before this moment, that Merlin had already captured him, in his oddly strange and unusual way. Arthur had NEEDED these chains because he thought Merlin was weak and needed to be contained. And yet…Arthur was the one contained and Merlin hadn't even needed chains to do it. Merlin tempered the monster in Arthur back, just as he brought it forward. And heaven forbid Merlin learn just how deranged Arthur was for him if he ever saw these…which was why Arthur stuffed the chains beneath his bed. As far as he could into a darkened corner just beneath the headboard…if he survived tonight, he would need to find a far better place for them. But for now, beneath the bed was the only place Arthur had, somewhere that wouldn't be checked. Even his servants only cleaned up under there once a month…it would be safe, for now.

But Arthur still wasn't content, pacing back and forth across his room while he tried to settle himself down…he wanted to be sick all over again but he knew it wasn't something he could keep doing. He wanted to fetch the chains and see if he could burn them in the fireplace, but he knew the kind of metal would not burn, so it would only be a waste of time. He wanted to live past tonight sorely to make sure they were still beneath his bed come morning, and that nobody had stumbled upon them for whatever reason, but he knew there was a very good chance they'd be found when he was no longer in the living world to stop them. He wanted to get out of his room and do what he was told and fetch the men meant to die with him on this mission like he was supposed too, but there was also a part of him that wanted to stay just to make sure the chains would never see the light of day again. He wanted to see Merlin, but he knew that is something that wasn't going to happen…he had already said his goodbyes. So how could he stand to face Merlin when he knew what was so close beside his hand…

What Arthur needed to do was talk to somebody that was as weak as him.

Somebody he could scream at and nobody would bat an eye.

Somebody that deserved his temper in a way Merlin never had…

And Arthur Pendragon knew just the person for the job.

X

Merlin Pendragon liked to say he went about his evening like he always would at this time of night. He wanted to say he had put aside whatever potions and herbs Gaius had allowed him to play around with, closing off little jars of pain cream like he had been taught to do so they could set. He liked to say he had said his goodnights and went upstairs so he could wash off the potion fumes and whatever he had managed to spill on his shirt during his experimenting…he also liked to say he climbed straight into bed and passed out inside of just staring at the four walls for hours and hours like he used to do. Merlin liked to say it was just that easy to clear his mind, and pretend the last day or so had been a good one. Merlin liked to say a lot of things actually, but none of what he wanted was actually true. Merlin hadn't done any of those things, nor was he getting himself ready for the night of sleep ahead of him.

Try as he might, Merlin had been unable to quell the restlessness of his mind, and he cursed himself for not being able to leave well enough alone, but he did not get out of his chair either. Merlin's butt had started going numb due to just how long he had been sitting on the stool amongst Gaius' books, his leg going up and down with restless abandonment as he waited for his uncle to return to their home. But the more time that passed, the longer Merlin wanted to rip out his own hair with the hopes of it somehow making time go by faster…he didn't really understand any of this himself. He should be THRILLED to be back in the place he belonged, should have been relaxing and humming under his breath as if there wasn't a single thing wrong in the world. Arthur was going to die on this night, it was everything Merlin wanted…to be free of Arthur for the rest of his days. What SHOULDN'T he be happy about right now?

So why…why…why couldn't Merlin walk up those bloody stairs, and dream of Arthur getting impaled on those wicked sharp claws the griffin possessed?

Why couldn't Merlin get himself dressed for bed, and watch from his windows with a grim smile as Arthur and his men started riding away from the castle.

Why couldn't Merlin climb into his bed, breath in his scent heavy on his pillow, and rest peacefully before the shitstorm that would happen when Uther finally realized his son was never coming home?

Why…

Why…

Why…

The door opening nearly gave Merlin a heart attack, he had been so lost with his own thoughts that he never heard the footsteps coming down the hall until that door opened, but Merlin jumped straight to his feet anyway. He had wild eyes on the door when his uncle strode into the room, looking as if he wasn't surprised at all by seeing Merlin in his chambers when he should have been in the Royal suites, "Is it true what you told the king? That the griffin, that it can only be destroyed if somebody else is able to use magic against it?"

The questions came spilling out from his mouth before he could swallow them back down, but he also couldn't deny his desperation to know. Merlin had not known there were creatures in existence that could only be taken out with the use of magic, the whole thing was unfathomable to him. But…Merlin's curiosity had not been the reason he had asked…Merlin had simply wanted to know how high Arthur's chances for returning to the castle were. Yeah…if Merlin's got to keep being married to Arthur, then he had every right to know if there was any chance of Arthur returning to continue his tormenting of him. He had the right to know if…if…if everything was really as hopeless as it seemed. To know if the prince, following his father's stupid orders, was going to meet his final resting place in the middle of the damn woods.

"…Yes, Merlin. I've done the reading both forward and backwards. And I have scoured every book I own that might merely mention this griffin and what its weaknesses can be. The only thing my books seem to have in common, is the griffin's weakness against its own kind. Magic against magic." Gaius said, just as calmly as if he was speaking about the weather. Merlin wanted to demand to know how Gaius could be so calm, when everything was going to be coming to a head tonight, but then he saw the way the aged physician carried himself as he strode past the consort and set his medical bag on the edge of the table Merlin had bern sitting at. Uncle Gaius was looking tired, weariness dragging his bones down in a way Merlin couldn't remember ever seeing before…Gaius looked drained. But…Merlin supposed it could be exhausting having to amuse the king when there were other things to be done. But before Merlin could try and offer his uncle a chair in the seat he'd just been sitting in, the other man had already started talking. "You know as well as I do what this means…since the prince doesn't carry a whiff of magic inside of him, and since none of the men riding with him will carry a single ounce of magic in their blood…it's very likely none of them will return come morning. No…it's a certainty. When Arthur rides away from Camelot in an hour's time…he won't be returning."

Gaius spoke with such finality, that it rattled Merlin's bones and stole all of the air from his lungs…that was exactly what he had always wanted. How long had Merlin wished for Arthur to disappear from the surface of the earth, how long had Merlin wished the prince went on some kind of hunting trip into the woods and never returned. How long had Merlin begged for this day and prayed for it to happen as he dried the tear tracks streaming down his face after the latest thing Arthur had done for him. But…but this wasn't right. Arthur was meant to just disappear, gone so suddenly that nobody knew exactly what happened to him. Or dead because of some natural disaster, or dead from some attack set against the kingdom. He shouldn't die because of…of crap orders given to him by his own father! What kind of justice was there in that? Even if the other man refused to defy his father's orders…how could Merlin truly rest in peace when he knew this death was all wrong.

"…I've already tried talking to Arthur about how stupid this fight will be, about how he can't go through with something as insane as this. But he is dead-set about listening to the king…even when he himself already knows he is going to die doing this." Merlin said quietly, grudgingly remembering the look that was in Arthur's eyes when he had walked away from Merlin. Sure, Arthur had made that horrible and unjustified comment about Merlin's own suicide attempt, but the look in Arthur's eyes when he walked away from Merlin…Merlin was almost sure his own eyes had reflected the same look when he had carried a poisoned cup. They were the eyes of a dead man walking, the eyes of somebody trying to accept that this was the ending of their story. Merlin swallowed hard, trying to stop his fingers from trembling at his sides, "Did you try and get the king to see reason when you were with him. The only reason the at Arthur is following through with any of this is because of Uther's orders. Surely even Uther's able to understand how messed up all of this is! Or is he really so content to see his own son riding out to his death."

Merlin couldn't imagine for one second, his own mother giving him the orders to do something like this. His mother had always kept a paranoid eye latched onto Merlin, to the point where he had spent much longer than the other kids in the village had clinging onto her skirts. She had obvious reasons for being as paranoid as she was, since Merlin's very presence did nothing but invite the danger into their lives. But she had learned to loosen the reins somewhat after Merlin started to grow, though that didn't mean she didn't keep an eye on him when she thought he wasn't looking. She was overprotective to a fault, and as he now didn't have her with him, Merlin was starting to realize how much he's missed something that used to irritate the crap out of him. What wouldn't the consort give for even just one of her hugs? Would Uther even bother hugging his son before Arthur left to carry this plan out? Would he even bother telling Arthur good bye? Or was he so confident in Arthur's abilities, so confident that the creature wasn't as strong as everybody whose fought against it said that it was, that he wouldn't even bother showing up when Arthur left. So confident his son would return the conquering hero.

"Merlin, you are talking about the man that sent his son into the lower town as a plague plowed through the civilians and took dozens of them out within one week. I doubt Uther believes his son is invincible, but Arthur has always came home after his job was done. The king clearly believes this is going to be the same as any other mission he's sent him out on over the years." Gaius told him with a heavy sigh, making Merlin scrunch up his face. He hadn't thought of the whole plague thing before but…Gaius had a point. Considering Arthur was the king's only son and only heir, wouldn't it have been better for Uther to keep his husband within the castle walls? Just in case the prince contracted whatever-the water, as it turned out-had been making the townspeople sick. It made him wonder what other jobs Uther had given to Arthur before the two of them had got married, and how many of those jobs could have slain the prince as easily as this griffin was going to slay him tonight. "And besides…our king is blind to reason whenever magic is concerned. And yet, if we want the kingdom to have a measure of safety, if we want the people to rest easy in their beds…magic is clearly our only hope."