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!

118. Chapter 119

This chapter is dedicated to Jacquelyn, who wanted to see Madame Teresa making a reappearance, and having outfits made for Merlin that could be used as 'revenge outfits'. And they are just what they sound like. Beautifully designed and made specifically for Arthur to swallow his own tongue after finally seeing Merlin all dressed up. I hope they enjoy seeing their idea starting to come to life in this chapter ;p

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Merlin darted his eyes around the room frantically, and his eyes connected with the still horrified looking Gwen. Before moving on to look at Morgana, who appeared to be growing in anger the longer that he took to answer her. Which would have been a big fat No, to her question. He did not want her to go killing Arthur just because their normal fighting ended up evolving to…something as little as putting a few bruises on him. It wasn't as if Arthur had tried to kill him, just…shake him up a bit. And all these marks were going to heal so there was really nothing to get all worked up about, but…the stern and serious gaze of his uncle seemed to say otherwise. The consort lowered his head, trying to use his short hair to hide and cover up the shame that marred his face, tucking away his fractured wrist behind his back. Just to get it out of the way…out of sight, and out of mind, right? This…it was over and done with, and Merlin knew better now then to get onto Arthur's bad side. So really, he had learned his lesson and it was something they could all move away from.

But nobody else seemed to share the same sentiment as he did, and Merlin almost wished that the knight who'd been in here before would return. It would at least cause a far better distraction, so that Merlin was no longer the center of every body's attention. But…Merlin was torn…not wanting to come face to face with the knight again. Merlin had never seen the man before, so he had obviously never done anything awful to him. But…there was something about those red cloaks all of them wore, that reminded him of pain and unfairness and spit and just plain…hatred. Merlin was supposed to be more comfortable, now that the man was gone, and he could now stand with the few people he was lucky enough to be able to call his friends, even after everything he had been putting them through. But…he wasn't. Perhaps because he knew all of them were studying him, waiting to see what he would do next…he had already freaked out on Gaius. He didn't want to do the same to Morgana and Gwen. But Merlin-while still freaked-was…not better. But at least, he didn't feel like he was about to start spiraling down a tunnel that would never seen to end.

Merlin's eyes landed on the chest that was sitting inside his room, casting an almost ominous presence to fill the space, but Merlin was sure it was only his own paranoia trying to do its best to frighten him again, "What's in the chest?" the boy decided to ask anyway. It was nothing more than an excuse, to give the girls something new to interest them instead of what had happened to his face, but he could admit-anxious and nervous-now that he had asked, he was dying to know. It had to be something important, if Morgana had instructed a knight to carry it all the way there. But…what could be so important, that they'd bring it right to a nobody like Merlin Pendragon? The cynical side of Merlin's brain said that they could have something hidden away in there, something that could be used to hurt him. Perhaps they had discovered the freak Merlin was, and there were a thick set of iron shackles just waiting to be slapped on his wrists. But…the very faint and calmer voice of reason in the back of his head, insisted there was no way they could know. "…It's not a giant weapon of mass destruction, is it?"

Merlin's voice sounded raw, the screaming and the panic and the crying he had been doing had ensured his voice no longer sounded normal, but he averted his eyes and hoped nobody could tell he wasn't any better on the inside-which felt as if they were ripping apart, his organs busting just to drown him in his own blood sounded like it wouldn't hurt as much as he did, his outer body aching and sore from being assaulted in the streets-like he was trying to portray on the outside. Merlin's off brand joke though, fell on flat ears for the longest time…nobody had thought Merlin's 'weapon of mass destruction' joke was particularly funny. Not even the boy himself, as Merlin had only been fishing for information on what could be inside the box. Perhaps it was something Lady Morgana felt that she needed to hide, something that would get her in massive trouble if Uther discovered it in her room. So, she thought she could hide it with Merlin…after all they've done for him when he was too depressed to get out of bed, Merlin felt as if he owed the two girls a great deal. A debt, of sorts, and Merlin was a man that paid off what he owed. He would not be here, paying off the contract his own mother had signed all those years ago, if he didn't. And not to be mean, but…. the trunk was far too richly made and too large to belong to Gwen.

But Morgana was decidedly the most unamused by Merlin's attempt to redirect the attention away from himself. Her lips had thinned so much, that it didn't matter she wore this very dark purple lipstick-in fact, it appeared Morgana had gotten herself all dressed her. With a long purple dress that formed to her figure, with a blue sheer wrapping over her shoulders. Her long dark locks pulled away from her face so that all her curls could tumble down her back in beautiful waves, held in place by this thin, headband with little tiny dark gemstones going across her forehead-her lips had still gone stark white and was far paler then the pale sheen of Merlin's face. But it was Gwen that answered him, finally lowering her hand from her lips so that she could speak without any obstructed, "It is for you. Or well…for Consort Merlin. Madame Teresa has managed to put together several outfits for you to choose from for the feast tonight. It's one of her sampler boxes, so you can find out what you like and she can design more in a similar style. But you are welcomed to keep them all. She is wanting to work up a full wardrobe for you, but this is just so you…so that you could do a good job at impressing the royal guests that are visiting us tonight …so you'll look the part."

Merlin knew exactly what Gwen meant by that…so you look as if you belong standing beside the royal family. Though he could hardly see how it mattered what clothing he wore, the consort was 'never' going to look like a proper consort. And it was exactly why a jolt of horror shot through him, and the consort jerked his hand away from where he was able to try opening the chest, as if he thought it was about to come to life and bite his fingers. His teeth started to clank together, and it behaved like it had a mind of its own, betraying the sudden anxiousness that sliced through him, intermingling with the horror. His eyes shot from Morgana, to Gwen, to Gaius and back again, as they all watched him taking this end. Waiting to see how he would react, and he did not act favorably. He was almost faint when he acknowledged the one thing he had almost forgotten after today's events.

The feast…how the bloody hell had Merlin forgotten the one thing everybody had been obsessed with. How had he been the one to forget-the only one to forget, apparently-that he would be expected to be there. Merlin was supposed to go and meet with King Uther and King Bayard, he was meant to show up beside Arthur…he was probably expected to smile and laugh and talk as if he knew what was going on. Merlin was probably expected to know which one of the fancy little forks he had chosen to accompany their meal, went with the dish in front of them. Expected to eat up an entire meal and not throw it up all over Arthur's lap. Would probably also be expected to entertain any questions Bayard might try asking him or nod attentively and be agreeable if the King decided he'd done something wrong and felt the need to point it out to him. He was definitely expected to wear the fancy clothes in this chest, to not shift uncomfortable and yank harshly at his sleeves or collar to try making it fit more naturally. Merlin supposed they also expected him to walk without stumbling over his own feet, if they had boots in there that Merlin had to shove his feet into.

Oh god, Merlin felt his stomach give a sudden lurch, and he rose his hand to settle against it, as if he thought his hand would be enough to keep his sickness at bay. But the only reason Merlin hadn't thrown himself forward, and spewed his entire stomach contents all over the floor over and over again, until it started sinking in the cracks in the wood, was because Merlin didn't have any stomach contents to throw up. But…how was Merlin supposed to get dressed, acting as if he was about to have the greatest night of his life as these celebrations wore on. How was Merlin supposed to smile or hold up his goblet in a toast or be…attentive…when he was dying on the inside. How was he supposed to sit beside the prince, look at his face, and not see the anger Arthur shown him in the marketplace. How was he supposed to share any meal with him, or clap his hands alongside him whenever a moment called for it, without thinking about only about the fractured wrist he now had. How was Merlin going to make it through the evening, and not expect Arthur to reach out and backhand him again if Merlin ended up accidentally saying the wrong thing. And let's be honest. Tonight wasn't going to end without Merlin having said the wrong thing at least a dozen times or more.

…Merlin was going to drop dead before the night ended…

X

FLASHBACK TO: AFTER ARTHUR LEFT MERLIN BEHIND IN THE MARKETPLACE BUT BEFORE MORGANA AND GWEN GOT TO HIM……

Arthur stormed restlessly through his castle towards where his rooms were located, his hands clenched on either side of him. Stupid boy, Arthur thought as if he had some kind of rolling storm cloud flashing lightning bolts above his head to show off his bad mood. One would have thought the prince would have felt much better now, then he had before. Arthur had finally managed to lay his hands on Merlin, he had done the one thing he had imagined doing since he'd learned that Merlin was an endless talker. Sure, Arthur had not managed to lay his hands on Merlin's bottom, had not managed to put him through the trashing that he wanted, until Merlin felt as if he was raw down there, crying when he tried to sit, only to be reminded of what Arthur had done to him. But…that was all in due time. Arthur had an entire lifetime, after all, that he could dedicate to trying his hand at all kinds of disciplinary measures on Merlin. That left him with plenty of time to pick and choose what his favorite method of putting Merlin right through hell would be.

That was the only reason the prince had made the ultimate decision to leave Merlin sprawled across the dirt, crumbled on the ground like the dirty little bitch he was. Nobody alive in this entire world, could say Arthur wasn't a generous kind of ruler. Somebody that was benevolent and understanding … but there was only so far his understanding would go. So much he would allow his limit to be reached…before he had to make some tough decisions. Like today…Arthur allowed Merlin to have this one afternoon to do whatever it was that he wanted. Merlin could start saying goodbye to his lover, or he could spend one final night with Gaius, or he could eat all the food he wanted, for all Arthur cared. Arthur only knew…once this night was over and sunlight broke the sky when it was morning…Merlin's arse was going to be his. It meant he was going to decide who Merlin got to see-if anybody, and certainly never somebody that could become a lover, under his direct supervision-it meant Arthur got to decide what it was he ate, which might just include his leftovers after all of the stress he had put Arthur though. And Arthur found that he could hardly wait, practically counting down the minutes until the grand banquet that was happening tonight. It would be the next time he was expected to see Merlin…and Arthur was going to spend his time without him, trying to decide on what he wanted to do to Merlin first, to introduce him to how his new life was going to work from now on.

There were just so many options that he could chosen from, and Arthur felt his hand-the one he had used to smack his consort across the face with-twitch at his side. The way his consort had looked sprawled across the ground, the shock and 'what just happened' expression on his face…the blond prince could almost taste just how…delicious…it was. And it was obvious that Arthur wanted to see more of that shocked expression. It was as if a dam had broken inside of Arthur, a true piece of himself that he'd been holding back his entire life, was finally getting a chance to come out to play. Being a prince, there were so many rules and regulations about how he needed to behave in certain company, but with Merlin…it was as if those rules just slipped away. Arthur could literally do anything, be anything that he wanted with Merlin, and he knew there was absolutely nothing the boy would do able to do about it. Arthur was his husband. Arthur had every right in the world to punish the boy how he saw fit. And the blond prince could see 'many things' that he saw fit to do to Merlin that would have the boy shedding those…delicious screams of his.

Perhaps he really could go down to the torture room and get that old machine dragged out and brought to his room. The one he could strap Merlin down too by his wrists and ankles, and stretch him. Here how loud Merlin would scream, watch as his back arched away from the machine in an attempt to get off of it. Perhaps Arthur could start teaching Merlin just a few simple position's he wanted him to learn, like one may train a dog. A click of Arthur's tongue could mean the other boy had to immediately drop to his knees. A snap of fingers could mean Merlin had to behave like an actual dog and get on all fours. The tap of Arthur's foot could mean Merlin had to hold his wrists out, one over the other, as an offering for Arthur to tie his hands up, given to him willingly. And those were only a few simpler position's he had came up with on the spot, perhaps he would think of more complicated ones once they both got used to the change in the dynamics that was their new relationship. But…there was one position that the prince wanted to see Merlin in most of all. Arthur would need to have some kind of hook installed in his ceiling if this was a position he had Merlin in often, but…he was sure that he could find a way to improvise for their first time together.

With Merlin's shirt off, so there was no barrier between him and his Prince. With Merlin's hands tied together, the dark ropes standing out in stark contrast to his pale skin as they hooked the hands above his head, the rope sliding through the hook with ease. With a bit of leftover rope that the blond had the option of pulling, so he could decide on how high he wanted Merlin to go. There was this…fantasy…he had stuck in his mind. Where Merlin was struggling to find his balance on the tip of his toes but never quite being able too. Arthur thought it would be quite funny, watching Merlin struggling a bit, and see how long it took before Merlin's body gave out after Arthur started using the whip on his back. This was the one fantasy that had been in Arthur's head the longest, that one fantasy that he kept coming back to time and time and time again. Whipping Merlin, watching those fresh welts as they emerged. It would be….nice….to finally get the chance to see it somewhere outside of his own brain. But, the blond found it was hard to stay inside his fantasy-with this strange heat flooding his veins over the thought-when he had such a huge gnat nattering away in his ear.

Morris had shown up the second Arthur had first arrived in the castle, as if he had been waiting for him. The only saving grace Arthur had, was that Morris didn't ask him what had happened with Merlin. He was sure Morris would find out all about it once the rumor mill reached the castle, but this was not something he was going to discuss with Morris. All that had occurred outside was strictly between him and his idiot consort…and the thirty or so people that had gotten one hell of an eyeful. At least those people wouldn't question why he no longer allowed his consort to run wild in the streets, why he wouldn't be seen at all until Arthur had him trained not to run off, if he allowed him to have short moments outside for good behavior as some kind of reward…once the prince was able to trust Merlin to stay by his side the entire time. But he did find that his manservant was ruining his mood, and kept distracting him away from deciding what solid first step plan he was going to go with, by his grating and almost unhinged nattering.

"I think that you're outfit for the feast came out perfectly. I cannot even see any of the stains that had been left behind after the Beltane feast last year." Morris was taking, holding Arthur's outfit he had fetched from the wash while the blond was…talking…to his consort. Swung across both of his arms to prevent it from wrinkling, the manservant had a far more smug air about him then he usually did. Though Arthur was not able to fathom why anybody would be so pleased about doing the washing. It wasn't like it was that hard, all that had to be done was scrubbing the cloth across the washboard…and then hung to dry. It sounded like a cakewalk to Arthur, but he supposed there was precious little servants could be pleased with about themselves. It wasn't as if they had very much going for them, "And you should just absolutely give it a sniff, sire. The liquid I left it soaking in left it smelling nice, I think it will make quite an impression on the people talking to you at the banquet."

Arthur tried, and failed, to tune out the gnarly voice that was his manservant. Again, the last thing he wanted to show any interest in, was what kind of soaps his manservant used on his clothing. He wanted to go to his room, and decide which spot would be the best place to hook Merlin up at. He didn't have any chains, but he could request having those made so perhaps a belt would need to be used. There was also using his bedpost as an option, to fix Merlin up so his chest would be pressed against the cool wood so Arthur could have the free access he wanted to his back. Perhaps he could try to use the bar in his wardrobe that his clothes hung from, if he wanted Merlin's hands to go up higher and really stretch all of him out for Arthur's viewing. But…there was the problem of the weight. Merlin didn't look like much, but Arthur found that he wasn't sure rather or not the bar would hold if Merlin started thrashing about trying to escape. Oh well, there was an entire night Arthur had, to decide which of the locations he could use…Arthur nearly rear back in surprise when that dratted manservant-almost stupider then Merlin, really-was suddenly in front of him. Shoving his outfit right underneath his nose, so he could get the proper sniff Morris had been bragging about a minute ago.

"Morris!" Arthur's tone came out clipped as he straightened back up, glaring at his manservant with daggers. The other boy snapped his lips shut-where he had been continuing to ramble about the certain types of soaps he had used for the water-with a sharp click of his teeth. But Arthur hardly cared to notice the wounded look-like he was trying to imitate how a dog might behave when scolded by his owner-that shot all along his manservant's face. Arthur Bloody Pendragon had fallen over the deep end, and had just smacked his consort across the face for annoying him. If Morris was worth it then he might have done the same thing. But as it turned out, the prince had no interest in giving Morris a similar treatment. It was no real matter to send Morris away when he became far too much. His husband…it wasn't as easily. "I really cannot begin to tell you how little I care about this outfit. It will have to be the last thing on my mind, and I do beg you to just go ahead and. Shut. Up."

Arthur pushed pass Morris without another look towards his manservant, and thus, missing the scorn Morris shot over at him before it vanished as fast as it could. But had the prince noticed, it would'be probably been barely a blimp along his radar. He would never admit it of course, but Morris shoving his clothes under his nose at him, had just reminded him of another thing he needed to do. How was he going to dress tomorrow…Merlin needed to know without a doubt, who the one in charge was. Which meant Arthur needed to dress to impress, which was a strange thought. He wouldn't say that he was trying to 'impress' Merlin, which he would say had to be the hardest thing he had ever done, considering that boy didn't seem to want 'anything!' Other this his lover…god, the prince could still feel the blemish that was his consort's face along the back of his hand, which had left Merlin's cheek a bright red color until it faded. But, Arthur roughly cleared his throat, before moving back to his original thought. He had plenty of options in his wardrobe that he could choose from for their first session. Surely there was one outfit he could find that would make Merlin recognize that Arthur would be his Better in all matters. And for once…Arthur didn't want to rely on Morris to pick his outfit. In fact, he'd need to remind himself to tell Morris not to disturb him at all tomorrow. The prince wanted to do all of this, on his own, which included deciding his own clothing choices, something that would be enough to catch even Merlin's wandering eye…

Arthur could hardly go around looking like a jester whenever he made his first move…

"Sire." Morris' voice cut into his thoughts again, making the prince feel as if he was slicing into his brain with his grating voice along. The prince stopped walking in mid-step, and he grew his jaw tight…what. The ever loving fuck. Did it take for this manservant to get the fucking hint. Arthur had far many more interesting things to do, then listening to him blabber on about fabrics or what other girly nonsense. Without any second thought, Arthur whipped and opened his mouth to snap scornfully that he would not need Morris' services to get him dressed tonight. He would summon another servant to do it- "I completely understand why you are frustrated at the moment. And if you need somebody to yell at, then you can do it to me. I know I was the one that upset you, telling you about what your consort has been doing while you were not watching. So if you need to get your anger out, then I do feel as if I am the best choice to do it too. But I do not regret having informed you. It is your right to know whenever your husband steps out of line."

Arthur snapped his mouth shut with a clink of his teeth, and his shoulders sagged as he let out a huff of breath, "…No." he said grudgingly, showing Morris far more grace then he'd ever shown to Merlin. Arthur supposed he couldn't very well see it fit to send Morris away when he was the one who had informed him about Merlin's deceits. Why, if it hadn't been for Morris, there was a very good chance that Arthur would have strolled into the banquet tonight. With Merlin clinging to his arm, and Arthur none the wiser why people seemed to be looking a bit more rabid, as they talked urgently behind their hands about the little cheat. "You were right to tell me. I needed to know the truth, so…thank you." The prince lifted up his head, knowing his father would hate what it was that he was going to do next. But what else was Arthur meant to do, considering the situation. "I find that I…I will forever be in your debt, Morris."

Arthur watched as Morris perked his head up, looking like he was an excitable little mutt who had just been gifted the entire world on the plate. Arthur shook his head annoyed, it was so easy to please peasants, it felt almost ridiculous. But if Morris wanted to get all excited just because he had been honest and finally managed to worm himself right back into the good graces of the prince, well, Arthur could hardly find blame for the excitement. At least Morris had finally learned his whole lesson about lying to him and what consequences awaited him if he ever tried to start something with his idiot consort again, like he had during the Sickness. Arthur took a step away from his manservant, and started walking his way back down the hall, so he wouldn't explain to Morris exactly how grateful he was for what he'd done for him.

It was because of Morris' initiative to inform him about what his deceitful consort had been doing during their time apart, that Arthur had caught Merlin in the act of talking to his own lover. It was because of Morris, the blond had finally gotten the good hard push he needed to realize….all those awful or weird thoughts he had spent so much time denying existed in the back of his mind-always lingering and had never fully left him-weren't wrong of him to have. He wouldn't feel this …exhilarated, if they were wrong to have. It was because of Morris, that Arthur was finally going to have his hands being pressed fully onto Merlin. Because of Morris, Arthur would finally get to see if the sight of fresh welts made by his own hand blossoming across Merlin's backside, was as exciting in reality as it had been in his mind. It was because of Morris that Arthur was finally going to be able to live out every little fantasy that had haunted him since these thoughts had first started to emerge in him. So yes, Arthur supposed, he really was forever in Morris' debt. Arthur wouldn't have had any of the courage he needed to go through with this, if it had not been…for Morris.

Arthur heard the sound of running footsteps, before he saw Morris arriving back at his side, breathing ragged but being sure his full focus was on Arthur's clothes not being ruined by a single wrinkle that would wreck the impression Arthur would be making on the Kings, that night. Arthur may have been tempted to wear the same outfit during his upcoming event with Merlin, but…it would hardly offer the same effect he was going for, since Merlin would have already saw him wearing it that night. Morris started to talk before the blond prince could start contemplating rather or not a brown belt or a black one would look more fetching around Merlin's frail wrists, "If you want sire, perhaps I could go and inform your consort that he is not needed or welcomed to attend what's happening tonight. After everything he's done, I find that his very presence might be enough to embarrass you. I am sure that arriving with him on your arm, will make people start to think that you tolerate such behavior. It is hardly the kind of message you want to send out to your people."

Arthur stopped and thought about this for a minute. Now, it was definitely true that Arthur didn't dare want his people to go thinking he was some floozy, so in love with Merlin, that a cheater like him could play the prince like a fiddle and return to his good graces so easily. But…after the display the blond had put on for the townspeople earlier, he was sure that not a soul would dare question rather or not Arthur was going to 'tolerate' such behaviors. And Arthur was sure people would get the message once Merlin disappeared in the morning, to his room until Arthur managed to have him trained good and proper on how to behave. Besides…not having the other boy attending the event would only cause a strain on Arthur that he didn't want to deal with. That would give his consort a good several extra hours to do god knows what, and most likely with his lover…fuck, now Arthur had that thought stuck in his mind. How could Arthur be expected to keep focus on the banquet and his duties as a prince, when his duties as a husband kept getting in the way. How could he follow along with the speeches and the toasts and even give his own…if Merlin was stuck in his head. If the thought of Merlin doing…gay things…with that man from the town, haunted him. Just maybe…it had been a bad idea for Arthur to allow the boy to play around with the freedom of his last night. Perhaps the blond should have snatched him up, and forced him to stay beside him as Arthur dressed and prepared himself for the party. Perhaps the words Arthur had spoken before he had left, really had been spoken only in the heat of the moment, he was starting to regret them now.

Merlin was His. Not that idiot knight's. And before the week had ended, Merlin would know it. And not dare question his authority, or who he belonged too. If Merlin ever wanted to have another 'love affair' so to speak, he would know better then to do it without thinking of the consequences. And the consort would know the first thing he should do was ask the prince for permission before pursuing anything. But clearly, Arthur would deny him. And Merlin thinking the prince might allow such a thing at all, would clearly be a sign that Arthur needed to return him to the little…training program…Arthur was still working the kink's out of. Clearly the first round of it would not be enough, and Merlin would need a bit more of a …rougher go, before he learned even thinking such things is a possibility meant he needed a fresh punishment. Hell, the hope was, by the time Arthur was finished training Merlin to who he wanted him to be, the boy may even come to him at the first thought of wanting another. Might get down on his knees, crying at the thought of betraying his 'master' before begging for Arthur to punish him. So he could be reminded of his proper place at Arthur's feet. So he could remember the lessons Arthur had tried to install in him. So he could be content, knowing his master would take care of him with far better interest then whoever it was that had caught his eye.

"No," Arthur's voice came out so gruff, that it nearly caught him off guard. Morris as well, if the weird look in his eye was any indication. But Arthur cleared his throat harshly, clearly the best choice of option was to ignore it. Besides, he had already made a firm decision on the matter, and Morris was not going to sway him from it with his good points. The boy was going to attend the feast tonight. With him. Clinging on his arm, while portraying himself as the lovestruck girl that Arthur had once considered him to be when he was always following him around with his stupid crush. Arthur was going to keep a close eye on him tonight. Study every little minute movement, study every hint to see rather or not Merlin knew something was up with Arthur. Just to see rather or not the boy had enough brain to try and escape before Arthur could put hands on him. Perhaps it would be best to have some of his men guarding the gates of the kingdom, just to be sure Merlin wouldn't try to slip away when given the chance. The boy could be strangely perceptive, when he wanted to be. It would determine-if he tried to run-just how hard Arthur was going to whip him. He would already be rough, since Merlin had humiliated him. But running would determine rather or not Arthur made him bleed for his transgressions, "…You will find that my father would be quite disappointed if he is not there. From what I remember, Bayard is quite eager to speak with him again, and we hardly want to disappoint our guest."

Arthur had absolutely no problem in this particular situation, to throw his father under the carriage, so to speak. Sure, the king would want to ensure Merlin was there, as it would've been the perfect time to 'show off' the love that had united them, before Merlin had screwed it all up with his inability to keep his lying arse in his pants. But it was definitely him that wanted Merlin to be there, far more then his father would've ever wanted him. It almost gave Arthur a sick thrill, waving Merlin in front of that horny Bayard as if he was the meat on a stick being fed to a pig. A certain content-ness rolling it's way into his stomach because he 'knew' the consort would be leaving with him. Arthur would have to make sure that he escorted Merlin to his chambers with Gaius after the feast…he was generous, after all. And what would one last night to sleep in the room that had been kindly given to him by the master physician, when Arthur would have the boy sleeping on the rug in front of his fireplace-his ankle chained snugly to the foot of his bed-for the rest of their lives…

And speaking of the rest of their lives together…perhaps the prince should take this time to get some kind of gift ready to be given to Merlin, Arthur thought as the idea struck him out of nowhere. Nothing big or major, Arthur would only give the boy proper gifts-like earning certain clothes or new ones, or being allowed to choose what meal he wanted to eat, maybe he would even allow Merlin the chance to pick out what they should try in their next punishment session-if Arthur felt like being generous. And if the other boy had been good enough that he had earned a special reward for listening so well. But Arthur could still give him 'something' to kickstart them off…could have something crafted especially for him. Something that Arthur would get a certain thrill out of seeing his moron wear, though Merlin would probably hate the mere sight of it once Arthur showed it to him. The expression that he knew Merlin would wear once he pulled it out…made this hot rush in Arthur's belly grow as if it was liquid fire. Yes, there would be no chance now that Arthur would not go through with all of this. He 'wanted' that liquid fire to flood his veins as if he had his own personal endorphins, something only Merlin's constant defiance brought out in him. And this whole event had been the biggest defiance Merlin had ever had….but if Arthur was going to do this, then he would need to do it this moment. He wasn't sure how long it would take for it to be crafted, and Arthur really wanted to make sure Merlin knew his place as soon as possible.

"Morris-" Arthur whipped his head back around to face the manservant, who seemed to preen under having the blond's undivided attention on him. His smugness dropped barely a second later when the prince rushed out his next sentence, a hint of urgency coating his words. "I want you to bring my clothes up to my room for me. Hurry, and get everything set up and ready for me. We are going to be crunched for time, but I have just remembered something that cannot wait until later." Morris blinked, absolutely baffled, and opened up his mouth to try and protest Arthur essentially abandoning him in the halls. But Arthur barely noticed, already walking pass the manservant with a dismissive way of his hand, "Go on, I will be there as soon as I can. But I am trusting you to be up and ready to get me into my clothing when I return, so I am not late for the banquet."

Being trusted, seemed to mollify Morris, and he closed back his mouth before briskly nodding his head, taking his next mission far too seriously. But again, Arthur barely noticed as he was already rounding the hallway, heading deeper into the castle. Arthur had a certain spring to his step, a certain new…exhilaration, on life. Arthur did not think he'd been so eager to see something done in his entire life. So eager, that he was willing to forego all of the very important things he'd been so insistent that needed doing earlier. Nothing, Arthur could see, would be more important than this. He needed to see the Royal metalworker, the man that created everything in the castle…the locks on the door, the horseshoes they put on their horses, the shackles and handcuffs and armor that all knights had. And in some cases, the master behind all of it, was very willing to take special commissions. And already the prince could see a very specific outline of something in his head starting to grow. It hadn't fully formed yet, but the image was starting to fester, becoming far more elaborate as he got closer and closer.

Something that was…not black leather, or he would've gone to the royal leather-smith instead. The man whose job it was to make the saddles for their horses, or to make jackets like the leather red one Arthur usually favored, or to create a few collars for the dogs. Perhaps Arthur would get Merlin to try out a leather collar, just to see how it looked on him, but this would have been better for everyday wear. It was something Arthur figured would be soft and supple and probably barely noticeable once he had worn it long enough. But the prince wanted something that was a bit more special than that, he wanted something that would really stick out during special occasions. Something golden, perhaps, so Merlin would not ever forget the power of the Pendragon family. The pale skin of Merlin's neck being decorated in gold, perhaps this would be something Arthur could expand on. Different equipment that had been encrusted with gold-golden handles on his whips or special ropes entwined with gold string-maybe one of the gifts he gave Merlin could be jewelry…It would leave Merlin draping in the gold he so angrily denied Arthur from ever giving him…perhaps Arthur could even get a set of thick iron shackles. Specialty made so that it had all this gold plating on it…Merlin might actually look fetching if he was chained down in gold. His slim wrists or slim ankles tied down to where Arthur placed him, the gold making Merlin's skin shine far more attractively then it ever had before. As if Merlin was some kind of ancient slave meant only to live and breath his master's own pleasures. And Arthur would fine all of this quite pleasurable indeed…the torturing of Merlin had only just begun…

Unfortunately, it would take Arthur a few minutes longer to get there then he wanted. As the prince rounded one more corner of the castle, a loud "Prince Arthur!" Nearly had the prince jolting back in surprise. Before he recognized where the voice had came from…just up ahead of him, the Madam and Royal Tailor-Teresa-had just walked out of the room she spent most of her days. Creating her works of art, and most of the prince's wardrobe as if it was the easiest thing on the planet to do. Madame Teresa looked up at him-her glasses making her eyes look five times too big for her head and her small stature did nothing to distract from how imposing that lady could appear, "It's about time somebody came along. I find that I need a big and strongly muscled lad to do a bit of heavy lifting for me. And I think you are just the man for this job."

Arthur wanted to curse loudly at that, the finer details of the golden collar he wanted to see on Merlin's neck starting to slowly slip away from the recesses of his mind. But he could hardly curse at Madame Teresa, she'd been one of the few people who worked in the castle that had been here during Arthur's entire life. And it was just not something that was done in the presence of a lady. But Arthur didn't have extra time for any sort of long detour that would take him too far away from where he needed to be. The Royal metalworker's office wasn't far from here, and Arthur wanted to make sure his order was in the works. Before anything could happen to change his mind, and go back to questioning rather or not it was a bad idea to do any of this. It wasn't, but Arthur'd been eager to try these things out before, and something always seemed to happen that forced him to take a step back. Not this time though…Arthur was bound and determined to get his hands-finally-on that blasted boy. And soak in his blood and his screams and his panic while Arthur had his fun.

"Er…perhaps I can call for some of the serving boys to help you with whatever you need?" Arthur suggested, as he was carefully edging around her to try getting to the other side where he could hopefully make a break for it. Flagging down a few serving boys-they liked to travel in packs, sometimes, so surely it wouldn't be too difficult to wrangle up a few for the job-would be plenty faster then doing the job himself. If it was any other time, Arthur perhaps wouldn't mind helping her out if he wasn't doing anything. But…it was hard for him to focus when the only thing he had on his mind would have to be the golden plating of the collar he wanted. Perhaps he should have something engraved into the front of the metal, like when one put a collar on a dog and they put their name onto the plating. Only it wouldn't be Merlin's name. Maybe it could be…Arthur's Bitch? Arthur's plaything? Adulterer? The Cheater…Annoying….Idiot…Moronic…or maybe instead, this plating could say something much simpler. Something that Arthur had been calling Merlin this entire time…Brat? Arthur cleared his throat roughly, his voice suddenly dry with only the merest thought of Merlin, wearing a golden collar snug around his neck…Brat…glimmering up at the blond when the sunlight streaming in through the windows hit it, "I'm sure a few serving boys would be eager to help you cart what you need around. It shall take nary a moment,"

Arthur whipped his head around back and forth, as if he was expecting for a gaggle of serving boys to round the corner so he could offer up their services. But of course, there was not a single person in sight. Fuck, if only Arthur hadn't sent his own manservant up ahead with his clothes. Perhaps that servant of his would have been enough of a help for Madam Teresa, or at least a good enough distraction for the prince to make his grand escape before the Royal metalworker had the chance to leave his office. But Madame Teresa did not seem pleased by Arthur trying to worm his way out of doing her a little favor, her no-nonsense glare going sharper then ice as she narrowed her eyes. And Arthur clenched his jaw tight, wondering how much respect she would lose for him if he took off running right now. Golden collar…golden collar…it was stuck in his mind now. Lingering close enough that he could just picture it locked around the boy's neck, with only Arthur holding onto the key to get it off. But stuck far on the recesses of his mind, that every time he tried to imagine just holding it in his hands…it would fade away as if he had been trying to hold onto mist this entire time.

"Oh?" Madame Teresa asked in this clipped tone, her voice was sharp and made Arthur's spine stiffen as if he was but a small child about to get in trouble for sneaking desserts and not eating his actual meal. "Are you telling me that all of my hard work means nothing? You are telling me all my designs, the fine art I spend hours crafting to make look like quite the acceptable masterpiece for you to enjoy, can just be handed off to the first clumsy oaf that walks into this hall. For them to trip and ruin my beautiful clothes long before they have a chance to be worn? If that is the case, then I would've rather delivered them myself! And not trust a servant, who cannot possibly understand the important of what I do-" there was a loud scraping sound coming from the doorway the elderly Madame Teresa had came from, and Arthur watched as the two apprentices working for her-Rebecca and Rachael-were pushing a large chest out of the room. It looked to be quite heavy indeed, and it was no wonder the three girls had need for a man to lift it. Why, Rachael stood on one side and was using her back to shove the chest out of the room. Rebecca stood on the other side, using the handlebar to pull on the chest, using every bit of her might to yank it out. "But if you want to trust the first batch of clothes I have made with your consort in mind to a measly servant, then who am I to argue with the prince. It would be your prerogative after all."

Arthur stopped short with what he was about to say…those clothes were for Merlin? Arthur suddenly found his eyes to be dropping onto the chest in front of him, looking at it as if it was a little treasure trove. He doubted there would be any clothes that could make Merlin look as if he was a royal, but he also knew Madame Teresa was quite skilled. And Arthur couldn't deny his curiosity…what would Merlin look like if he was properly outfitted. Would he still be this cause for awful embarrassment…just because Merlin wore the clothes, it did not mean he knew how to properly fill them out. But…maybe Arthur wouldn't mind seeing him try. It would be good fun to have before Arthur sealed him away inside his chambers, he had almost forgotten he was supposed to get Merlin proper clothes anyway. With the whole cheating scandal his moron was in the middle of, and then having to prepare himself and then his last minute decision to have something special just for Merlin made. Well…it was a good thing Madame Teresa was already ahead of the game, or there was a good chance Merlin would be stuck once again wearing those rages that he insisted on wearing.

"Er…perhaps I should be the one to bring them then. I didn't mean any offense, Madame Teresa. I will be pleased to bring this to my consort myself. It's absolutely no trouble at all…" Arthur said, waving a hand to the Madame. Perhaps Arthur would have a chance to open it up before he brought it up to Merlin…Arthur was almost eager to see the other boy earlier then he had planned. See if there was any spitfire left inside the boy that Arthur's first hit hadn't knocked out. Or learn if Merlin was still stupid enough to say something that would result in the resurgence of rage flooding through his veins…it would determine if Merlin needed another hit to stop what temper Arthur was sure would be brewing in his consort. He did always have a mouth on him, but Arthur would be using any excuse he could to teach Merlin how to 'properly' talk to his betters. But first…Arthur couldn't deny himself just a tiny peek at what Merlin could be wearing that night. "I suppose there's no reason to call a servant, when I am standing right here. May I extend my consort's thanks in advance, I'm sure that he will love to try on anything that I'll bring to him…"

Madame Teresa arched an eyebrow high over her forehead at Arthur's sudden excitement, but simply brushed it off as a man using any excuse to get his husband naked-even if it was only to redress him again, in the finest clothes the royal family could afford. But Arthur barely noticed, holding onto a nasty smirk as he imagined all the different ways his idiot consort would react to seeing him again so soon. And God help Merlin, but Arthur didn't think he would have been able to hold himself back from giving Merlin just a little…teaser…of what he had to look forward too, if Arthur didn't find him in Gaius' chambers. Arthur didn't care if he was giving this afternoon as a gift to Merlin-his last moments of freedom to do whatever he wanted. He didn't care that he was allowing Merlin to spend it with his lover if he so choose…it had been far easier when Arthur wasn't thinking about all of the things the two could be doing together. It was hard to imagine that his dumbarse consort wasn't as naive as Arthur had thought he was. But there would be no denying Arthur's fickleness if he discovered Merlin had immediately ran off and joined his lover in bed, forgetting all about Arthur's rage. There would be no choice for Arthur-if he tracked them down and found the two of them in the throes of passion-he would need to stab the knight dumb enough to shack up his consort. Slice up his belly right down the middle until he was all but cut in half, while his consort watched in horror. And then…Arthur would absolutely need to completely RUIN Merlin, by giving him his first real punishment right next to the corpse of his once lover. That would show Merlin, far better than a simple backhand across the face ever could.

The bloodlust was strong in Arthur, the liquid fire returning as if licked dangerously at his veins. But there was a calmer part of himself lingering in the back of his mind, that said it was probably best for him to deliver these clothes to Merlin himself anyway. Instead of a servant. Because heaven forbid people realize where Merlin was actually staying, but…it was not going to be a problem for long, he reasoned. Arthur was going to have him moved into Arthur's personal chambers in a mere morning's time. And any evidence that would be left of Merlin ever living there-his belongings scattered around that small upstairs room-would be gone after Arthur had all of it burned. Any clothing Merlin may have owned, or books Gaius may have let him look at the pictures in, or trinkets he may have collected…all of it would be destroyed. His moron would have to start from scratch with him, earning anything he wanted only if he behaved. Yes…Arthur found he liked to see the new life he was crafting in his head becoming reality in the making. But…the collar…Arthur inwardly whimpered at the thought of not having the time he wanted to get it done NOW. And this wasn't exactly an order he could have Morris go and fill out. It was private. Something nobody but Merlin and him would ever know existed…

Arthur, fearing he had no choice but to push back his dream of giving Merlin a proper collar for a day at least, stepped up to the large chest. He might not get his collar, but he'd have to just make die with seeing Merlin…not that it was entirely a bad trade off. It just wasn't what he had planned, but things were liable to change. And it wasn't as if he wasn't going to get his collar…he would just have to stop by the office of the royal metalworker in the morning, before he went to drag his consort out of his bed so he could start his new life. He had just lowered himself down onto one knee, and grabbing hold of either side of the box-Rebecca and Rachael looking quite relieved when they let go, knowing they wouldn't be forced to push the box the whole way up Merlin's empty royal suite upstairs-when a voice came from down the hall. "Did I hear that right? This chest if meant for Merlin?"

Arthur's eye twitched almost violently at the casual way the voice had used his consort's name, as if it was nothing to speak of a consort by their natural name. God…if Arthur had to look up and see another that Merlin-fucking whore Merlin turned out to be-had taken to his bed…he would do what he should have done to that knight in the town, to the voice. He saw no shame in losing two members of Camelot, as long as it taught Merlin that he should have kept it in his pants. Or…Arthur might be lenient if the sexual appetite his moron had tried to hide from him really was so great that he was unable to help himself. Arthur had heard of men whose cocks swell at any given moment, and whose excitement for having only sexual gratification for all hours of the day had no chance of being matched, that it could literally be considered one hell of a sickness. Something wrong with the brain and the body until they had no chance but to seek it out, like an addiction to the endorphins that sex caused. It would not be any kind of excuse for Merlin if this was the case for him, but the man could show pity to his consort. Lock him in the suite he had abandoned with a few…adult toys that Arthur had no idea of how to get his hands on. So he could please himself without the company of another, so Arthur would not have to see or hear what he was doing…so Arthur would not be punishing the boy only to find the harsh lash of pain was causing mix signals in the boy's brain, forcing his cock to rise as Arthur punished him. That would be a quick way for Merlin to find himself being shoved through the door that joined their two rooms, with a toy flung at his head, before Arthur slammed the door and stood guard. Lest Merlin somehow managed to raise his voice loud enough to coerce a stupider guard into joining him if a toy wasn't enough…

Arthur nearly shuddered at the thought of what a monster Merlin could be if a toy truly wasn't enough. Would Arthur have to do far more then he thought he would…he knew a man had needs. And it would be torture for the both of them if Arthur didn't allow his consort do indulge every once in a while. But the thought of Arthur-who wanted to control all single aspects of Merlin's life-also having control over when Merlin indulged himself…sent a hot flush of shame raising to his face. He would still do it, if he must, to keep Merlin firmly under his control. But…Arthur could hardly imagine wasting his time trying to find out where he could purchase or have made such items. Could hardly imagine trying to touch and hold an item that he knew would very soon be shoved up his consort's rectum…could hardly imagine purposely watching Merlin, to seek out any signs that the boy needed to have a private moment to himself. Arthur had not considered any of this before, and…it could be something that determined how long Arthur would keep his eyes on the boy. He could hardly stand there and 'watch', as the boy pleasured himself, but…it was also something Arthur did not need to worry about at the moment, when he heard the click click click of high heel shoes meeting the stones…a woman, then. And not Merlin's lover part two, and his shoulders sagged in relief…until the prince looked up.

"You don't have to worry yourself with that Arthur, I am sure Gwen and I can get it up to him without any problems." Lady Morgana said, the purple cloth of her dress swirling around her ankles as she looked down her nose at him. Gwen was a half step behind her, but unlike the smug lady who looked to be quite pleased with herself, for snatching the blond's prize from his grasp, the maidservant had her head down low. She had her hands wringing the front of her dress, but the blond barely noticed as Lady Morgana stepped up to the chest on her own…wanting to take it from him? "Besides, I am sure he would enjoy our company anyway. We were just on our way to him. Merlin will be in far better hands with us, and Gwen is going to make him the prettiest man there. So you do not have to worry about this. Just leave Merlin to us."

Arthur gritted his teeth sharply…prettiest man there? Didn't Bayard himself also call Merlin 'handsome'. What were with the people who were supposed to have the back of the very prince who was destined to ascend to the throne someday, insisting on his consort being 'pretty'. Merlin was quite the odd looking fella, in Arthur's opinion. Though he would look far fetching in a collar, Arthur thought that was more about the rush of power he would get in seeing Merlin wearing one of them. More then Merlin being objectively 'pretty'. Exactly what kind of self respecting man would want to look pretty? It was exactly why Arthur needed to take Merlin underneath his wing, and teach him how to behave properly. Maybe if he did not act like such a girl all the time-even going so far that he was willing to 'take it up the arse'-he wouldn't be forced to hear others call Merlin something only girls should like to be called. And what did Morgana mean by '…enjoying their company more…' then Arthur's. Bloody hell, that was half of the reason Arthur wanted to train Merlin so badly! To get to the point where the bloody poof would want nobody else's attention but Arthur's. To make the boy thrive whenever the prince gave him a shred of attention, and pout when Arthur was ignoring him because he had actual work to do. It was Morgana that didn't know what the bloody hell she seemed to be talking about, as if anybody would prefer her company over Arthur. Even if Morgana seemed to be doing a far more better job at tucking Merlin under her wing, since the moron was 'such good friends' with her and the maidservant. But it would not be long now, before Arthur changed Merlin's mind and became the one Merlin wanted to see…

"I don't think that is a good idea ladies," Arthur noted, as he let go of the chest and rose to his feet. He vaguely noticed the way Gwen seemed to slide behind Morgana a bit further but it was dismissed as soon as the thought struck Arthur's mind, as he turned firmly to Morgana. This was going to be a battle of wills between the two of them: who would be the stronger one. The Prince or the Lady. The Ward of the King or the Soldier himself. And it was a better Arthur found that he was determined not to lose, not if he was going to get his chance to see Merlin before the festivities of tonight. Arthur wanted to see how the mark he had made along his moron's face was healing nice enough, the red that had bloomed on the boy's face still vivid in his mind. Surely, the blossoming of color across his skin had faded by now, much to Arthur's disappointment. But it would be best for it to be gone by the time they met with his father and the other King. "If you've been standing there for long enough, then perhaps you may have heard that this chest is far too large for two women to carry. You might break a nail, and we wouldn't want to do all that when you've already gone out of your way to get ready so early."

Arthur finished this with a condescending smile, one most girl's would have had no problem being charmed with as he looked Morgana up and down in her pretty dress. But Arthur had grown up with Morgana and she was never going to see him as anything other then the scrawny little teen he'd been when she'd first joined their family. And Morgana proved it by simply arching an eyebrow high over her forehead, and not falling into those annoying giggles that girls were known for. And it caused Arthur's own smugness to drop…fucking Morgana would show up right now, wouldn't she? It was bad enough he constantly had Merlin ruining things for him, but Arthur could hardly punish Morgana for trekking on his toes whenever the situation amused her. Arthur even felt a large shudder of revulsion going through him. No, he did not think he would ever treat Morgana as he had Merlin. She'd always been annoying, but…Merlin seemed to be on this level so far above her, that it was ridiculous. It didn't stop Arthur though from wanting to turn the woman away. He could deliver all of these damn clothes on his own. Could look through them on his own, could even pick out the one he liked best and insist Merlin wear it-Arthur getting a little head start on controlling the boy. And he could check Merlin's face to make sure that he hadn't gone overboard with his earlier punishment…all of it without Morgana's interference.

"Ah, but Arthur, just think about it. Gwen and I were going to have a little time with our favorite of the Royal Couple." The Lady said with an equally condescending smirk, though hers had a bit more spite to it then Arthur's had. And the prince's expression went pinched at the little snide comment she'd easily slipped in there. "We were going to talk and gossip as we girl's tend to do. Give Merlin the full Royal treatment and I just don't think you are cut out for the job. I mean, are you really sure you want to trust Merlin to prepare himself with the same standards a Royal does? Or are you willing to go the extra mile to help dress him, so that there is not a single mistake with his looks. And Merlin's hair is going to be done up as well, or it will need to be. Can you fix your own hair, or is Morris still doing it for you-" Morgana might have Gwen to do her hair often, but she at least knew a few simpler styles if Gwen was unavailable to her for one reason or the other. It was easier, then trying to find another servant to replace her for the day. "Besides, Gwen and I are far smarter then I think you believe. I am sure that we can figure out how to move a trunk like this, without the help of a big strong man there to guide us weak willed women along."

Arthur opened his mouth to argue, before he was shutting it back with a clink of his teeth. He knew that Lady Morgana was simply mocking him now, but there was little the prince could do about it right now. What was he meant to say? Was Arthur going to admit that yes, he had every intention in the world to slowly but surely strip Merlin of his clothing the one second they were alone come morning. So that Merlin could start the painful process of earning back each one of those garments. That he doubted stripping the boy now, before he forced him into one of the outfits from his choosing, from in the trunk, would be much different. But…she also seemed to be pretty confident that Gwen could make Merlin…pretty. As if that was possible, Arthur's doubt was strong, but he was going to be the judge of that the next time he saw him. But…Arthur supposed Gwen couldn't make the boy look to be far worse than he already was. It wasn't as if he could do any of that extra stuff-like the hair-so that would probably be best left up to an actual girl. Wasn't it within their genetic coding or something to be able to do these things? And, the prince supposed, Morgana wasn't the worse choice in the world. A feast he knew Morgana wouldn't try wooing his consort into her arms after getting him naked. And she already knew all about the…unique, living situation Arthur had allowed Merlin to have, before he realized Merlin's deceitful ways.

Arthur let out a low growl, though it was inaudible to the five ladies staring at him, but realizing Morgana had backed him into a corner-and how weird it would sound without proper context if Arthur admitted he would be undressing Merlin far too soon anyway, "Fine!" He snapped, though he really felt a strong urge to kick at the trunk in his frustrations, the way a small child would when they didn't get their way. But Arthur figured he had far too much dignity to do that, and backed away from the box instead, before he gave into the urge and quite possibly ruined Merlin's one chance to be 'pretty' with the outfits created for him. "If you think you can get this up to him, then by all mean's, go ahead and try. I expect that I'll also be able to trust you to get Merlin to meet me in front of the grand staircase when the banquet is starting? Good."

Feeling as if he had gotten the last word in, Arthur started to storm off down the hallway again, leaving Morgana smirking because she knew 'she' had ended up as the real winner of their little battle of wills. But that hardly mattered to Arthur, whose frustration mounted into a growing headache as he rounded the corner out of sight. So what if Arthur wouldn't get the chance to make sure Merlin wasn't actually off with his lover, or doing something else completely irresponsible for a boy with his status. This, Arthur tried looking onto the bright side of things, only meant he could stick with his own original plans. He could go to the metalworker and get some of his ideas out there…and when he finally had the finished product in his head…it would be nice to see Merlin choking a bit with it. The boy would probably put up one of his fights but Arthur…Arthur was stronger. It wouldn't take much of an effort on his part to force the pure gold collar-heavy around Merlin's throat in a way that he would never get used to the weight and forget it was there-over the boy's dark head of hair. It wouldn't take Arthur much to figure out which hole he wanted to tighten the collar on…just snug enough for the boy to feel the presence of the collar every time he needed to swallow. Just snug enough that Merlin would still be able to breath, but not without the collar constricting him….loose enough not to hurt, but tight enough for Merlin to know who possessed him. Tight enough that Merlin would always keep to good behavior, because it was Arthur that held the key to freeing him, if he was ever so inclined to give the moron any break from it.

As Arthur started nearing the metalworker's office, it never occurred to him…that he should have warned Morgana what she might find when she went to see Merlin. It had not even occurred to Arthur that he should inform her that he'd taken a new step-as was his husbandly right-to punish Merlin for his discretions. It never occurred to Arthur…that he perhaps, was wrong to not say anything about what he had done with his consort earlier that day. No, it didn't at all. Because…the prince was a selfish man, who would only care about what it was he wanted, and what means he would need to get such a thing done. And right now, there was only one thing Arthur Pendragon wanted. To be within the private confides of his chambers. With Merlin stripped of his clothing, down on his knees in front of him. With his arms yanked right behind his back with golden colored ropes, binding his wrists together but also going all the way up his arms, the golden threads of the rope forcing the color of his skin to shine and stand out, until Arthur tied them off right above his elbows. And it was a look that would not be complete without Arthur placing his golden collar-BRAT, shining up at him from the metal-snugly around that thin throat of his. Perhaps even having a golden colored cloth gagging the boy's mouth shut, tied forcefully behind his head, preventing Merlin from doing the stupidity that was sucking his lips. And maybe if Arthur was feeling a bit creative, he might work to get his hands on a pair of gold studded earrings, and pierce the boy's lobes, just so Arthur could decorate him up a bit. If Merlin was going to act like a whore, if he was going to act like a girl who didn't know she was meant to keep her legs shut to anybody other then her own husband, then Arthur was going to treat him like one…make him pretty himself, before wrecking him with the slash of his belt or whip.

Yes, Arthur thought to himself as he felt that familiar rushing of heat shooting up in his veins, his nasty smirk reappearing now that he no longer had Morgana in his face. Perhaps the prince should even invest in a bigger mirror then the one he had in his room. If only so Merlin himself could see the ways Arthur had taken his time to painstakingly get him ready and prepared. Maybe Merlin would even be grateful when he can see himself all trussed up like some kind of harem girl-being decorated in the finest of metals as Arthur crafted him into whatever he was in the mood for-only without the sex part of a harem girl's description. Arthur walked with this firmer skip to his step, a new obsession being born. An obsession with seeing Merlin dressed in golden silks and golden jewels and golden ties and golden collars…showing Merlin that the knight of his would not ever have a chance of showering him with as many golden toys as Arthur could. If Merlin looked a fourth of what Arthur imagined in reality as he did within the confides of Arthur's mind…Merlin would not be leaving from his chambers anytime soon, lest somebody else be tempted to try stealing him away from Arthur…

FLASHBACK OVER:

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Merlin had to swallow back the bile that threatened to erupt from his mouth, as he continued staring down at the trunk in front of him. The trunk full of god knows how many clothes, and Merlin could only imagine they would be similar to the garments he had worn for his wedding. Clothing that would have thick fabric Merlin felt he was swimming in no matter how well made, clothes that were hot and heavy and if this event didn't make him pass out, then the eventual stroke of heat he would have, undeniably would. For the way the boy was staring at the trunk with a blank and dead stare, it could have held a deadly snake in the trunk instead of clothing for him to choose. A snake Merlin would reach out as if he was about to pet, only for Merlin to turn his head over at the last moment to reveal the cuts his fingernails had left behind in his skin. Merlin wouldn't even scream as the viper struck out at him, burying his fangs into those cuts and injecting Merlin with the sweet relief of poisoned heat spreading through his veins from the snake's venom.

Merlin could vividly remember how his wedding clothes had felt on that day. Itching him because of how unfamiliar that kind of fabric was to him. Suffocating him because he knew he was about to be marched out in front of an entire crowd of people, as if he was some kind of prized show dog. And it had been constricting, simply because it had been made to fit him proper, instead of being looser and too big for him as his regular peasant clothes were. And staring at the trunk as it was now…Merlin blinked, the dead stare he had starting to flood with an unbelievable amount of tears. Why…whenever Merlin thought he was done with the crying-his eyes heavily red and making the blue color stand out vividly-something would happen that would make him start again. But Merlin could not help himself, feeling raw and frayed and as if any little thing could set him off. All Merlin could think about was the words the blond had told him in the middle of the street, just before he had left Merlin there to pick himself up out of the dirt.

Merlin, ignoring the others, threw himself down onto his bed and snatching up his pillow so that he could cry into it. This was not his normal crying. This was ugly crying, with heavy tears staining his cheeks with trails of red left behind on his cheeks, making him cry harder because it hurt to have tears running down the swollen flesh of his bruised cheek, the cut on his lip stinging as the tears flowed to his mouth, leaving Merlin tasting his own sadness. He had snot coming out of his nose, staining his pillow, but he hardly cared. He just did not want to look at that trunk, and know it was expected for him to go back out there…how could anybody think that he was in a fit state to go out there? "I-I-I" Merlin tried to speak up through the tears, choking on his own words as he tried clutching harder on his pillow with his good hand, trying to ground himself in a world that felt as if it was floating all up around him. "I'm going to look like a painted whore in those clothes!"

There was a certain stillness to the air after Merlin's scream, but the consort barely noticed it as he face planted into his pillow, to muffle his crying sobs. Gaius, Morgana, and Gwen stared at each other in disbelief and horror, trying to figure out and understand what Merlin was going on about. How'd he connect getting dressed up to spend a few hours inside of the great hall with his abuser, equate to looking like some kind of painted whore? Morgana herself had never worn any thing other then what Madame Teresa had made for her, not since she had moved into the castle. She was even wearing one of her creations right now. And Madame Teresa was this very classy lady-unless somebody would have the nerve to order up something not so classy. And Morgana had never-not once-felt as if her clothing of choice was inappropriate or too revealing. Certainly not something a common whore would ever wear.

Casting one more glance over towards Gaius and Gwen, the Lady Morgana was the first one to make a move. She walked up to the edge of the bed, hiked her skirts up a little so that her dress wouldn't pull tight on her when she sat back down on the edge-Gaius averted his eyes away in respect for the lady when a flash of her ankles could be seen-on the bed so she was closer to Merlin. Morgana held out her hand, before hesitating for a moment. Merlin's shoulders were shaking so hard, and the rough crying only seemed to sound more and more…wet. Her heart ached for the young boy that became a friend to her in such a short span of time. Merlin went taut and tight when Morgana finally placed her hand on his back, letting him know that she was there. But perhaps this would be a mistake, because after a minute, Merlin seemed like he was breaking down right before her eyes, all of the sobbing starting to sound like a haunting wail. As if Merlin was one of the ghosts that haunted the villages on the far edges of the kingdom after the residences have been chased away from their homes by bandits or plagues. Forever stuck, living but not living in the place where they had died. But the consort was not dead, and Morgana wanted to keep it that way.

"…Merlin…" Morgana said in a soft and soothing voice, she rubbed up and down along Merlin's shoulder, not even sure the other boy could hear her from how loud he was. And the lady cast a glance towards the trunk, wondering how in the world such an object could have caused such this huge and intense reaction out of him. It almost seemed like a dramatic reaction to her, nobody she'd known had burst into tears or called themselves a whore just because they had access to the finer things life had to offer. But if Merlin wanted a bit of comfort, then she would give it to him. "Now, I know you are not exactly into this whole…dressing up…that we nobles are prone to doing. But it's hardly something to cry about. We'll get through it together…I'll even be by your side during the whole event if you are worried about seeing Arthur. I'll make sure nothing happens to you. And tomorrow…tomorrow we'll find a way to fix all of this? Alright? Do you think you will be able to make it through just one more evening? I know that it is going to be terribly boring and tedious for us who are not involved in the main festivities, but just think of all the food you can try. And how pretty everything is going to look…this will hardly be the end of the world. And if you really are that worried about your clothes, well, Madame Teresa is known for her beautiful outfits, and she knows what she's doing in that department. So why don't we take a look, hmmm? And see what we can find. I am sure there will be something that you'll like? Something that won't make you…look similar to a painted whore…"

Morgana tried to tempt Merlin into getting up with her, but she did not blame him when he continued to cry. She had forgone her share of feasts whenever she was having one of her rebellions against Uther's behavior. But that had been completely different as well. Morgana was just the ward to the king. It was not the end of the world if she didn't show up to a few feasts now and again, as long as she showed up to the mass majority and stood by Uther's side. She would not be trying to get Merlin to go at all, the bruises across his face a strong indication as to why he shouldn't. And if it was any other feast, they probably could have gotten away with claiming Merlin was sick. But…Morgana wanted to say screw it, to Arthur and Uther for making the darling boy go through with this. She wanted to march Merlin straight up to the king so she could show him what his precious heir had done this time. But it wasn't that easy. Bayard had already seen Merlin earlier that morning, he would have questions if Merlin made such a sudden claim towards sickness. And the king would only think Morgana was exaggerating about Merlin's injuries if he did not see them for himself. But…wouldn't both kings also have questions if Merlin showed up with this face full of markings?

If it was Morgana, she would have marched into the hall for herself, with her face marred, and show everybody what the monster known as Arthur had done to her. But Merlin wasn't ready for that, she didn't think…he would not survive all the scandal that would spread if he did. But perhaps they could clean Merlin up, stand guard around him to make sure there was no chance of Arthur getting a chance to harm him once again. Morgana knew that Madame Teresa always packed a bag of makeup supplies to go with every outfit she made, if the colors were right…perhaps she and Gwen could blend it up some. And at least Merlin would be covered up, and not be under the scrutiny of everybody staring at the shame on his face. Regrettably, Merlin would need to attend the feast but…they could do whatever they had too, to make him the most comfortable they could get him. Morgana only hated that it felt too much like Merlin was being marched out like a sacrificial lamb, going straight for the slaughter. Not if Lady Morgana had anything to say about it…she would make sure nothing happened to him tonight, she swore it, whispering a soft promise under her breath that she was positive nobody had heard, the darkness in her eyes showing vengeance on Arthur was neigh, at each tear Merlin shed.

When Morgana's words seemed to do nothing to calm down the consort before them, Gaius stepped up, and cleared his throat to get the two girl's attention, "I do not mean it if this sounds rude, but perhaps this is the time for you two girls to leave us alone. As I'm sure that you can see, this isn't going to be the best moment for Merlin to see company." Gaius let out a world weary sigh as he said this. The only thing he had wanted in the world, was to see Merlin being with friends or people his own age. Laughing, and getting into trouble, and doing the things that all people did. But now, the tables had turned if Gaius was going to have to send away the only two friends Merlin seemed to have in the entire kingdom. "This…it appears as if this is going to be a family matter. Whatever banquet is happening tonight, can and will wait until the two of us have settled after this whole ordeal."

Morgana didn't agree with this at all…was she not as much of a family member as Gaius himself was? Sure, she didn't share the same blood as Merlin. But Arthur-god help her did she regret this-was practically her brother since the day the king had saved her from being raised alone, in one of those poor houses they sent children who had nowhere to go after their parent's had passed. Saved her from being raised as a lady, to being treated as a pauper until her adult years when she was old enough to claim the fortune her parents had left behind for her. And with his marriage to Arthur…the consort may as well have been her brother as well. Morgana had all the reasons in the world to be here now, every reason in the world to not stand on the outside and hope that Merlin was going to be okay. But…there was very little Morgana could do right now. She couldn't get Merlin to stop crying, so she couldn't have Gwen help her with getting dressed…so what could she do? Other then sit on this bed, and pat Merlin on the shoulder well into the night-missing the banquet, which wouldn't be a total loss if they could get away with it-until it calmed him down. Though, and maybe this was just her, but that did not sound like Morgana was doing enough. She had to do something more meaningfully then just…waiting…until Merlin calmed himself. There had to be…and Morgana felt it when she was hit with an epiphany about what she could do that would get her faster results.

"Okay." Morgana said, noticing the looks of surprise on both Gwen and Gaius' face as she rose from the bed. Delicately brushing down the skirts of her dress until they fell neatly to cover her ankles back up. They had clearly not expected for the Lady to give in so easily without a fight, Morgana wasn't known for keeping her mouth shut. Or for not protesting the wrong moves, like sending her away from Merlin's side when he needed her the most. But Morgana hardly cared what the two of them were thinking, a steely look appearing inside of her dark eyes as she resolved herself to what she was going to do next. "There is something that suddenly needs to have my attention. So I'll go ahead and go now."

Morgana met eyes with the still silent Gwen, and while Gaius was still baffled by Morgana's willingness to go, it appeared that the other girl recognized what she was doing. And she gave a short nod of her head, giving Morgana her support…it was something they both knew needed to be done. And Morgana felt her backbone growing stronger than any man's had ever been, as she started walking towards the bedroom door. If things went her way, Merlin would be able to skip all the banquet without a single word said against him…people spitting hate like 'he didn't support the treaty, and their two lands becoming ally's' by not showing up. Because some of the people might be far more concerned about their prince. Arthur Bloody Pendragon was going rue the day he had ever even thought of putting hands on her new little brother. The prince was going to rue the day he had crossed Morgana…she was far madder then she had ever been. And Arthur, he truly deserved her raising hatred. She was not going to just allow him to get away with this, wasn't going to allow him to join that party as if he had done nothing wrong…wasn't ever going to let what he did go.

She had literally seen Arthur not that long ago, when she and Gwen had swiped the trunk right out from underneath him. And yet…there had been no shame on Arthur's face. No hint that he had just crossed the line. Arthur had looked her in the eye, and he had smiled-a smug and conceited smile, but a smile nonetheless. While Merlin had been in here, with only Gaius, suffering from his abuse…what kind of monster had Arthur became. She knew he'd never been happy about his marriage, but how had it come to this? But it didn't really matter in the long run, as he wasn't going to be happy for the rest of his days. She'd make sure of that. She had just enough anger in her to ruin every meeting he had in the future, access to destroying every item he might find more precious then his own consort…and nothing else to do with her days other then plotting to sabotage every endeavor the prince got involved in. Morgana had no problems keeping a grudge like this, born from the pain he had caused precious Merlin for the last time, for years to come.

Morgana had barely made it a foot out of the doorway, when Merlin spoke up, causing her to freeze in her tracks, "It…this was Arthur…" and Morgana's brows creased together as she was confused. When Morgana turned back around, she saw that Merlin had finally sat himself back up in bed. The tears were still running heavily across his face, making it look as if his face was shining with little diamonds. But he wasn't ugly crying, screaming his head off as if he thought he was going to drop dead at any second. "It was Arthur…he was the one who…"

Morgana's brows furrowed together deeper, Merlin's words raw and slurred and exhausted as he tried to get himself in working order. But…they knew that Arthur was the one that had done this to him. He was the one that had fractured his wrist, the one that had bruised Merlin's pale face-his face now looked positively ghastly, causing his marks to stand out even worse then they were. He was the one that would be dying by Morgana's hand if she could figure out a way to get rid of the body proper, without getting caught. But the consort already knew they knew Arthur had just became the number one on their mental kill list. So, why was the consort telling them again? Or telling her, specifically, because their eyes were glued together. Merlin seemed to be ignoring the other two altogether…maybe he knew as well, why she was leaving him in his time of need…

"He was the one that called me a whore…"