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Merlin - The Man They Call King
Okay, biting the bullet and all that and finally posting this. I keep fiddling with it, but not really making any changes, which means it's probably past time.
Title: The Man They Called King
Rating: R
Pairing: Merlin/Uther
Length: ~ 5,825 words
Spoilers: Up to and including 2.12
Prompt: #192 – Canon!verse, sleeping with the enemy. Challenge to make it consensual on both sides.
Synopsis: Morgana needs information, and Merlin needs a way to earn the king’s trust.
Author’s Notes: Matches canon through the end of Series 2, but likely AU for Series 3 given that it has not aired yet. So totally blaming![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
camelot_fleet for this one.
Disclaimer: I do not own this interpretation of the myths and am making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Can you do it?” Morgana asked.
Merlin could feel the energy, the power rolling off of her. She had most definitely changed in her time away. She now seemed to have far more of a grasp of her true potential, but there was something else, something foreign, woven through the colours of her magic. Morgause’s influence, he was certain. The question was, did Morgause release her so she could be free, or so she could be used once more?
He kept those questions to himself and nodded. “I can,” he assured her.
He saw her smile, the way it was far closer to a sneer. She turned away before he could see her eyes, probably knowing they would give her away. She walked over to the window and gazed out at the life outside. She looked beautiful, draped in silks the colour of the sky around her. “It’s just... she’s my sister,” she whispered. “I need to know that she’s safe, even after everything she’s done.”
That, he thought, was the closest to the truth she had given him since she called him to her chambers upon her mysterious return. She turned back to him and he dutifully put on a surprised expression. He had suspected as much, and confirmed it with Gaius when Arthur’s searches had brought nothing but strife. “It’s a war against those of us who know magic is not purely evil, and those who would burn us for daring to think such a thing. You’ll have your answer by the end of the week,” he promised her.
Now it was her turn to look surprised. “So quickly?” she asked doubtingly.
“Arthur is to leave on a hunting trip with several nobles, and it is easy enough for the king’s servant to eat something that turned his stomach wrong,” Merlin reminded her. Arthur had not wanted him to come along, claiming all Merlin did was scare away the game. Gregory was known for his indigestion, so another case would not seem unlikely. He would make sure the man was not seriously harmed, but under orders to stay in bed until his health had returned.
“And you would offer yourself in Gregory’s place? Serve Uther even though he is an enemy to what you know is right and good?” she clarified.
He nodded readily. “If it makes amends with you, I would do near anything,” he swore. He needed her on his side, needed to know she trusted him again.
Her eyebrows rose as she admitted, “I truly cannot think of a more vile task for you. Do this, find out Uther’s plans against my sister, and our trust is restored.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“You?” Arthur scoffed. He had his travelling gear in hand and stared at Merlin as if he had grown two heads.
“It’s the easiest solution,” Merlin insisted. He tried to sound like he did not like it, which was not a difficult thing to do.
“Serve my father, serve the king?” Arthur continued as if Merlin had not interrupted.
This is where Merlin knew he needed to talk fast. “Gregory is ill and Gauis believes it may be due to unhygienic practices with regards to food. This means the kitchens are to be scrubbed, but also that others may fall ill as well. As the physician’s apprentice, I know the safest ways of ensuring this illness is not passed. Would it not be prudent to have the person who best knows these means to protect the king from also falling ill?”
“The best person would then be Gaius,” Arthur reasoned.
Merlin tried not to curse, it never ended well. “Gaius needs to care for Gregory and anyone else who may fall ill. He knows the cure, I know the prevention,” he tried.
“As reluctant as I am to admit it, the boy has a point,” Uther declared from his spot at the table. He looked to Arthur and addressed only him as he said, “I trust that you have taught him the proper protocols by now? It has been weeks since he was last sent to the stocks, surely he is doing better?”
Merlin had been hoping Arthur would have already left by the time Gregory took ill but, unfortunately, the man truly did have a stomach more sensitive than most, and the timeline had sped up quite a bit.
Arthur looked as dour as his father usually did as he admitted, “He has improved greatly, and has shown his loyalty to this house and Camelot as a whole.”
“Good,” Uther nodded as if that decided everything. Being that he was the king, it likely did. “Merlin will serve me for one day. If he suits my needs, he may remain. If I am displeased with his services, he shall be brought to the stocks daily until your return,” he declared.
Merlin swallowed heavily while Arthur simply smirked. “Then it’s settled.” He turned to Merlin and warned, “Do try not to screw up. Should you prove to be an embarrassment, the stocks are the least of your worries.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Merlin made sure that he awoke extra early the next morning. If there happened to be magic involved to make sure of this, so be it. He put on his nicest tunic and trousers and made certain he was neat and clean and did not smell like the stables or any other foul thing. He gathered the king’s breakfast from the kitchens after watching it be made, guaranteeing nothing was wrong with it even though he knew nothing would be. He had a role to play and needed to stay in character as much as possible.
When he approached the king’s door, he was not surprised to find a guard stationed there. Neither was he surprised when the guard gave him a less than pleasant look. That looked changed when he noticed both Merlin’s appearance and the fact he had brought a timely meal. The look changed again, this time to a grin, when Merlin whispered, “Is it standard to knock, or just to enter? Arthur prefers the latter when he is hung over.”
The guard knocked for him, and even opened the door when Uther called for him to enter. He swept in as quickly as he dared, the platter balanced delicately and thankfully unwaveringly in his hands until he gently deposited it to the table he knew Uther tended to eat at given his time following Arthur to his father’s chambers.
He turned in Uther’s direction, head bowed and hands clasped behind his back like the obedient servant. The king was still in bed and clad in his nightclothes, robe draped across the stool at the foot of the bed. Merlin was not certain if the king wished to dress or eat first, so he planned to wait for instruction and simply let his presence be known with a demure, “Sire.”
“I shall dine first,” Uther declared as if sensing the hesitation.
Merlin quickly grabbed the robe and held it up; he helped to fit it around the king and even tied it when Uther made no move to do so. He knelt to help him into his slippers, and then stood to await further orders.
Uther raised an eyebrow at him, and advised, “I typically prefer my slippers first as the floor can be cold, but not bad for your first time.”
Merlin nodded and pulled out the chair at the head of the table. “Would you like me to tend to the fire, sire? Perhaps I could warm the room to your liking?”
Uther sat, but did not look at him as he said, “Please do.” Merlin caught a glimpse of his expression though, and it could only be described as pleasantly surprised. This, at least, was a step in the right direction.
He knelt by the fire and built it up to what he thought was a suitable strength, careful to use only his hands and no words that might have him beheaded by sunset. Satisfied, he cleaned his hands on a rag he had shoved in his pocket for just that purpose and stood to dutifully wait once more.
“You are for more competent than I gave you credit for,” Uther told him as he finished the last sausage. Merlin fought to control the growl of his stomach; Arthur always saved at least one for him.
“Thank you, sire,” he said for lack of any better response. It seemed to please Uther as he pushed his own chair back away from the table to prepare to get ready for the day. Actually, to be more accurate, it was to have Merlin prepare to get him ready for the day. Uther indicated that it was a day for hearing grievances and so Merlin chose what he hoped was an appropriate outfit for that based on what he had seen him wear before. There was only one slight mishap of Uther preferring a specific vest, but he did not seem angered about it, so Merlin counted it as a success.
“Gloves, please,” Uther order, shocking Merlin with the polite additive.
“Of course, sire,” Merlin replied. He grabbed a pair that matched the leather of Uther’s vest and realised it was possibly the first time he had seen the king without the accessory outside the time he had been on his deathbed. When he handed them to him, he noticed a possible reason why. There was a large scar that ran across the back of Uther’s right hand, wrapping around nearly to his wrist. From the way Uther held himself, it quite possibly still aggrieved him, and not simply for being a sign of weakness. “Are you in pain, sire?” he asked.
He realised his folly when Uther glared at him and nearly tore the gloves from his hands. “That is none of your concern.”
Merlin hung his head and tried to look as contrite as possible. “I meant no disrespect, sire,” he insisted. “I serve as the physician’s apprentice and have not heard of this injury. Perhaps there is something I could do to remedy any discomfort you may have?”
The glare softened, but only slightly. “As far as Gaius is concerned, this is an old injury that needs no aide, you would be wise to keep it as such,” Uther told him.
Merlin, of course, could not just leave it at that. It was a perfect chance to earn Uther’s trust, if only a little. “I would not dare to tell him, sire, but perhaps there is something I could do to help without his explicit knowledge?”
Uther looked intrigued, which Merlin took as possible permission. He gestured to the hand and Uther actually held it out, so he placed it between his own for a moment before he began to massage what he saw as incredibly tight muscles and tendons. The hand relaxed at his touch, as did Uther if the way his shoulders lost some of their height was any signal.
Merlin finished what he could, sans magic and medicines, and stepped back into what he was considering his ready position. “The technique is more effective with the proper salve, but hopefully that will suffice for now, sire,” he said with as much modesty as he could muster.
Uther flexed his hand before him as if in wonder before sliding on his glove and covering the injury once more. “Thank you,” he said, and sounded genuine. He began to walk towards the door as he confided, “Ygraine used to do something similar, but it has been a long time since anyone was bold enough to try.” There was a fond smile on his face, clearly lost in the memory, as he added, “She was always rather unconventional and never feared the crown or what it stood for.”
Merlin said nothing, knowing the subject of the queen was usually forbidden except in the most extreme of circumstances. He opened the door for the king, but waited at the threshold as he would for Arthur. Uther stepped through and took several steps before he huffed, “Come on then.”
Merlin knew the confusion was writ upon his face as he hurried to the king’s side once more. He could not help but ask, “Sire? Usually this would be the time I tend to the room and make certain everything is in order.” It was also the time he planned to search the room for information for Morgana.
Uther simply nodded. “That is because I have not yet rewarded Arthur with a separate chambermaid. Given his youth and, frankly, impulsiveness, I thought it best not to actively encourage any indiscretions at this time,” he explained. He continued to walk, obviously certain Merlin would follow. “You will attend me throughout the day. Your duties will be to make certain my needs are met, whether it be with a goblet or blade, and you will be allowed to make requests of the other servants as needed.”
Merlin nodded as if he understood and actively tried not to smile at the thought of being able to tell others what to do. Apparently being the king’s personal servant had some perks.
~~~~~~~~~~
Much later in the day, Merlin revised his opinion of being the king’s servant. Drastically.
One would have thought simply standing at the king’s side while he listed to noblemen and serfs alike complain about each other would not be tiring. One would be incorrect as he was constantly checking to see if the king needed anything else, offering a goblet of water the moment the king’s voice sounded even remotely hoarse, offering a plate of cheeses when he swore he heard the man’s stomach rumble. If he happened to steal one for himself when he retrieved it from the corners of the room, no one was the wiser.
The problem was, he could not think of any other way to earn the king’s trust. If he was not to be allowed alone in the room, there would be no way to search it. Aside from hoping to catch a snippet of conversation with the knights, or outright asking, he simply could not find a way to get his hands on the information.
The king decided to dine in his chambers that evening, so Merlin attended him there. His own meal was growing cold on a table in Gaius’ room, but he knew he was to ignore that for now. He stood to Uther’s side, the fire built high and the meal displayed neatly before him.
Uther dug in like a starving man, apparently forgoing his usual pretences of decorum he had when he ate in the main hall. It was odd, seeing the king relaxed in this way. He was far less kingly, and far more of just a man. Merlin could grow accustomed to seeing him like this; it took away some of the darkness and blood that always seemed nearby when the king stood forth.
About halfway through the meal, Uther paused, fork lower back to his plate, and commended, “You did well today, boy. Far better than I could have hoped, to be honest. Even Gregory cannot always anticipate my needs the way you did, and he has served me faithfully for many a year.”
“Thank you, sire,” Merlin told him. It seemed to be his mantra for the day. Thank the king, don’t die.
“After readying my bedclothes, you may clear the plates and retire for the evening. I expect to see you at the same time tomorrow,” he declared. Merlin was about to thank him, again, but was stopped by, “And, Merlin? You are aware that the kitchen is to have a meal ready for you before you bring me mine, correct? The same rule applies when bringing Arthur his.”
Merlin stuttered. He had not known that. He usually ate whatever Gaius gave him and left it at that. “I was not aware, sire,” was all he managed.
Uther smirked. “I did not think so. I could hear your stomach growling from here. When you bring my plates to the kitchen, do remind them of proper protocol and state it is by order of the king if they protest. You should have a fresh meal prepared if yours has gone cold,” he explained. His tone was almost kind, and Merlin did not know whether he should be frightened or not. Instead, he stuck to his standard response, and Uther seemed just as happy with that.
Merlin laid out the nightshirt and robe, and placed the slippers where he thought Uther might find them convenient. When Uther stood, even though he knew he was technically dismissed for the evening, he forced himself to ask, “Did you need assistance, sire?”
Uther paused, and seriously looked as if he was about to decline. With a tilt of his head though, he said, “Please.” Merlin helped him remove the outer jacket and vest, hanging them neatly in the armoire. He took the pendants and medallions handed to him and placed them in the correct cupboard as well. Before he was completely undressed though, Uther handed him his pair of gloves and said, “Thank you.”
Merlin took that as the dismissal it was and tucked the gloves away and picked up the detritus from the evening meal. As he parted, he promised, “I shall try to obtain the salve in the morning.” Just before he tugged the door shut, he swore he saw the most unusual thing: Uther smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next day was very similar to the first with the noted exception that Merlin had a belly full of warm supper followed by a belly full of warm breakfast to help see him through the day. The cook honestly looked chagrined as she explained she thought he was obtaining his meals elsewhere and that she would remedy the error immediately.
Uther was awake before he got there, even though he managed to wake up even earlier to have time eat his new and improved breakfast before he arrived. The king was quite enthusiastic about the salve’s properties and, if Merlin happened to add a bit more effectiveness to it via other means, there was no one the wiser. Fit, fed, and dressed, he went out to face another day of grievances, mixed with a meeting with the king’s top advisors for a little bit of variety. Merlin had hoped the advising would include the plans for Morgause but, alas, it was only about taxes and building a new fortification on the western border and was quite boring actually.
He noticed something though, as the day wore on. Uther seemed... closer, for lack of a better word. His finger’s brushed Merlin’s when he accepted a goblet, and his shoulder even brushed up against Merlin’s own several times as they walked the halls. It was not uncomfortable, simply odd, and only happened when no one else was around. It was as though Uther was more relaxed without needing to perform for others, and, apparently, had decided to include Merlin in his circle of comfort.
It was around the time that Merlin came to this realisation that he also came up with what he knew to be a very bad idea.
~~~~~~~~~~
That night, he had kept to the dutiful servant act as he had throughout the day. He waited until the next morning to implement his plan.
The plan itself was relatively simple: he was to flirt. He had done it before with others to great success. To wonderful, body aching success if he was to be honest with himself, but for now he planned on keeping it simple. Get Uther relaxed, maybe even flirt back, and then pose a question or three to find out what he needed to know. Sir Lawrence had never suspected a thing and, if he was careful enough, neither would Uther.
He started small: a batting of eyes that got a sharp head turn, a brushing of hands that received a smile. He stood just a bit closer when he poured Uther’s wine that night, and closer still when he asked if Uther would like another treatment for his hand before he retired for the evening.
He took his time with the salve and the massage, rubbing the sweet-smelling ointment into every joint and pressing deeply against every tendon. He leaned closer as his thumbs pressed against the meaty palm, plying and loosening while he felt breath ghost across his ear. That breath turned to a reluctant sigh as he pulled back, letting his own hands slowly drift down as his gaze slowly drifted up. His tongue darted out across his lips, something that could be seen as accidental, or inviting.
“Merlin?” Uther asked, eyes searching.
“Yes, sire?” Merlin replied. If he was a bit breathless it surely only had to do with the king’s extremely close proximity.
A proximity that shrank even further as Uther pressed up against him, head tilted ever so slightly to the side. Merlin let him come to him, let him be the one to choose as was his right. Warm lips pressed against his own, hesitant at first, more forceful when he surrendered and opened to him. A tongue, moist and tasting faintly of venison, licked its way in, traced his teeth before darting further, tasting and being tasted in return.
Merlin had no idea that they had even moved until he felt his back press up against the wall of the fireplace, eliciting a gasp that made Uther pull back suddenly and his hands release their grip on Merlin’s tunic as if burned. “My apologies,” Uther breathed. His chest heaved and his head was hung as if in contrition.
“Sire?” Merlin asked. He kept his tone innocent, wanting, not giving everything away just yet.
His hands were still fisted in Uther’s vest, preventing him from escaping further. Of course a man of the king’s size and ability could have easily broken the hold, but the fact he did not try was telling. “I shouldn’t have,” Uther told him. He pulled back further, but still not enough to free himself. “It’s not proper, and I do not want you to think you are required to do so as part of your duties...”
“It would be a most enjoyable part of my duties,” Merlin told him coyly. He was not lying, Uther could kiss with the best of them. His own breathlessness was far from an act, as were other responses he could feel burning in his blood. “I just never thought... A lowly servant rewarded with such a gift from his king...”
Uther licked his lips and Merlin tracked the movement, mimicked it. “I am not a king, not here and not now,” Uther told him. “I present myself to you as a man, and ask that you make your decision based upon that, not based upon some sense of duty or obligation.”
Merlin nodded, knowing his eyes were likely as wide and glazed as the man’s before him. “I have made my choice,” he smiled, and tugged him closer once more.
There was more kissing, and a fair amount of groping. Merlin’s scarf was pulled off, and his neck and throat quickly descended upon by lips and tongue instead. His back was no longer pressed against the wall, but he had no idea that they had moved so far until Uther laid back against the pillows of his bed and pulled Merlin down on top of him.
Merlin straddled the king’s waist, braced one hand near the pillow while the other he dragged down a quite muscular arm. He knew the position was Uther’s way of letting him know he was to treat him as anyone else, to not give in or submit solely because of who he was bedding. There was no way he would ever truly see him as anything other than king and sovereign, but the fact that Uther was willing him to try was telling. He also knew Uther was enjoying this at least as much as he was, if the hard heat pressing against his thigh was any indication. A slight shift and Merlin rolled his hips. He watched as Uther’s eyes clenched shut even as pleasure surged throughout his own body. He did it again simply because he could, and was rewarded with a breathy moan that could have been either his or the king’s, he no longer could tell.
Uther’s hands fisted in his tunic once more, tried to pull it free from his belt. Merlin shivered as impatient fingers found the line of skin just above his trousers, gasped as they pressed beneath the waistband and cupped him there.
He fought the urge to thrust as he stuttered, “S-sire?”
Uther was more than a bit breathless as he reminded, “Just a man.”
“Be easier to think that if you weren’t still wearing your crown,” Merlin pointed out.
Uther laughed, something that bubbled up from deep inside his chest and burst forth as if it had been too long trapped inside. His hand moved though, and then all Merlin could do was bite back a moan.
He had tensed his muscles, ready to finally thrust, when there was a knock on the door. He knew the disbelief was writ as clearly across his own face as it was across the man beneath him.
“Sire, there is word from the hunting party,” the page called through the door, which thankfully remained closed.
Uther gave Merlin a look of regret, and one filthily long stroke, before he reluctantly removed his hand and let Merlin climb off of him. It was a matter of moments to straighten clothing into something respectable once more and for Merlin to stand off to the side, aching and hard and tying his scarf back into place.
The page entered at the king’s request and Merlin made certain it looked simply as though he was readying the bedding for the evening, not smoothing out the evidence of what they had just done. What they had nearly done.
The boy was long-winded, but carried an important message in all of his words. After a reluctant nod of permission, Merlin gathered the dishes from the evening meal. He overheard just enough to know that it was not Arthur but a nobleman who was injured, and that the party was returning to seek medical attention. They should return in a day, perhaps two, as they intended to travel slowly to accommodate the injured man. He left with a promise to inform Gaius, and a great need for a moment or two alone.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, unfortunately, was far too similar to the day before. Merlin brought Uther his morning meal, but the engagements of the day left no time for anything more than lingering touch and an apologetic look.
By midmorning, Merlin had started to count all the accidental brushes against each other. By midday, he had given up and wrote it off as simply many, and began to think they were not so accidental at all. He caught Morgana’s gaze once, her questioning expression, but he rewarded her with a look of innocence and confusion instead. It worked and she left him alone, not even sending Gwen after him on a fact-finding mission. He considered that a success.
When Uther requested his evening meal in his chambers, Merlin had a suspicion as to how the night would end. When Uther barely managed to eat enough of the food to keep the kitchens happy, Merlin nearly vibrated with anticipation.
Plate pushed to the side, Uther finally rose. He turned to face Merlin with only the hint of hesitation in his eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he removed his crown and set it on the table.
Merlin grinned.
~~~~~~~~~~
Later, when the candles burned low and the fire was nearly banked, Merlin traced the pattern of the fine fabric of the canopy with his eyes, his body too sated to move much else. He ached in the most delicious of ways and revelled in the fine silk against his bare skin, the warm body at his side.
The bed beneath him shifted, and he turned his head to find Uther propped on his side, gazing down at him. “Something troubles you?” the king asked. “I do hope it is not the time we spent together.”
Merlin hastily shook his head. “It is not that at all, I assure you, sire.” He offered a smile that usually got him his way in pretty much any and all instances and added, “I most definitely do not regret that.”
Uther smiled back at him, something Merlin was getting quite accustomed to. “Speak your mind and we can find a resolution to what is keeping you from rest.”
“It’s not my place,” Merlin began, hesitant. Uther gave him a look to tell him that many things were not, but that had not stopped him yet. He frowned and tried only to look like a concerned friend, not a plotting servant. “I worry for the Lady Morgana. She seems so withdrawn since her return. I believe her nightmares may have returned, but she will not accept the draughts Gaius prepares. Gwen seeks something to help her, but we have found nothing yet. Surely she deserves as restful as a night as I have been awarded.”
“Perhaps the knowledge that her kidnapper will soon be destroyed will allow her sleep more soundly,” Uther offered. His hand ghosted down his side and Merlin leaned into the touch.
“That is likely, sire,” Merlin agreed.
“I have a full contingent of men ready to attack and destroy both Idirsholas and the castle where the witch deceived my son,” Uther promised, his voice as soothing as his touch.
“That should please her greatly, sire,” Merlin told him. It was not a lie; that was the very information Morgana had requested. However, as always, Merlin could not leave well enough alone. He knew that would leave one place for Morgause to hide and plot. “Gwen mentioned the lady’s desire to visit the home that was once her father’s. She fears she seeks purchase in the past to right her future.”
“Then my men will ensure it is safe and we will journey there together,” Uther replied.
“I believe such an offer would change her mood greatly,” Merlin nodded, silently amused at his own understatement.
Uther wore a new expression as he met Merlin’s gaze. “You are a good man, Merlin,” he told him. “You care greatly for my son and my ward, and I feel this care and protection holds true for far more than simply the royal household.”
“Camelot is my home now,” Merlin said, meaning every word of it. “I will die a thousand times over to protect it, and will serve her with every drop of my being.”
“Is this simply part of the service?” Uther asked, gesturing between them. He looked amused more than concerned though, so Merlin played off of it.
“This is truly one of the most pleasurable aspects of service,” Merlin agreed. He let his own hands roam free, earning both a smile and quick exhalation for his actions.
Uther pulled Merlin’s hands away though, and placed them at his side. At his questioning look, Uther placed a hand on his chest and told him, “I am not as young as I once was.” The hand drifted lower and Merlin could not stop the mewl that escaped him as he arched into the touch. Uther continued, calm as could be as he elicited new and interesting responses from Merlin’s body, “I may not be yet ready, but there is no reason why one as young as you should suffer.”
At that, Merlin surrendered to the touch and lost himself in the pleasure. He figured, if nothing else, it was a reward for a job well done. As he slowly came undone, he could not help the part of him that hoped it was something more.
~~~~~~~~~~
Gaius did not question why Merlin returned both late and a bit dishevelled that night. He was a young man, after all, and allowed his freedoms. His mentor did, however, warn, “For pity’s sake, Merlin, you are serving the king. Do hope that you are not too tired to do your duty in the morning.”
Merlin smiled and tried not to openly laugh. “I assure you, I will be ready, willing, and able come morning, and the king will sing nothing but my praises.”
Gaius rolled his eyes, and waved him towards his room as he bid him a good night.
~~~~~~~~~~
Arthur and his hunting party returned when the sun was high in the sky the next day. Lord Olen was brought immediately to Gaius for treatment and, around that time, Gregory was deemed well enough to return to the king’s service.
Merlin was clearing the dishes from the afternoon meal when Arthur visited his father to apprise him of the situation. “Given that the stocks were empty, I trust my manservant was actually competent during my time away?” Arthur asked.
Merlin did not roll his eyes, but it was a near thing. Arthur knew him too well though, and smirked at his efforts. It was precisely how well Arthur knew him that led Merlin to be quite glad he was to resume his old duties. There was no way he could successfully keep such a secret from the prince, who knew his routines and timelines far too well after this long of service.
Uther looked amused at the interaction as he replied, “He did well enough, though Gregory is to return today so I must remand the boy back to your custody.”
“I am sure it is quite the hardship to lose his superb services,” Arthur replied.
Merlin was certain Arthur was making a face, even though he could not see it from his position behind the prince. Instead, he lowered his head slightly, as if in reverence to the king, and slowly licked his lips.
Now it was Uther’s turn to smirk. “In truth, I would not mind having him in my service again some day,” he declared.
While Arthur tried to work out what his father meant by that, but thankfully not why one of Merlin’s scarves was poking out from beneath a pillow atop the bed, Merlin took his leave.
He had done his duty for Morgana and knew she was pleased enough with the results to trust him again, which served his own purposes as well. He would do his duty for the prince and ready his rooms and save his life and gently guide him to become the great leader he would one day be. He would also, as promised this morning as he lay against silk sheets damp with sweat, body both sated and humming with energy, do his duty to the man they called king. That was something he was most definitely looking forward to.
~~~~~~~~~~
And my sad attempt at art can be found here. I did not have a working scanner, so this was taken with a digital camera that somehow made things very dark. Sorry!
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcome (I think).
Title: The Man They Called King
Rating: R
Pairing: Merlin/Uther
Length: ~ 5,825 words
Spoilers: Up to and including 2.12
Prompt: #192 – Canon!verse, sleeping with the enemy. Challenge to make it consensual on both sides.
Synopsis: Morgana needs information, and Merlin needs a way to earn the king’s trust.
Author’s Notes: Matches canon through the end of Series 2, but likely AU for Series 3 given that it has not aired yet. So totally blaming
camelot_fleet for this one.Disclaimer: I do not own this interpretation of the myths and am making no profit from this.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Can you do it?” Morgana asked.
Merlin could feel the energy, the power rolling off of her. She had most definitely changed in her time away. She now seemed to have far more of a grasp of her true potential, but there was something else, something foreign, woven through the colours of her magic. Morgause’s influence, he was certain. The question was, did Morgause release her so she could be free, or so she could be used once more?
He kept those questions to himself and nodded. “I can,” he assured her.
He saw her smile, the way it was far closer to a sneer. She turned away before he could see her eyes, probably knowing they would give her away. She walked over to the window and gazed out at the life outside. She looked beautiful, draped in silks the colour of the sky around her. “It’s just... she’s my sister,” she whispered. “I need to know that she’s safe, even after everything she’s done.”
That, he thought, was the closest to the truth she had given him since she called him to her chambers upon her mysterious return. She turned back to him and he dutifully put on a surprised expression. He had suspected as much, and confirmed it with Gaius when Arthur’s searches had brought nothing but strife. “It’s a war against those of us who know magic is not purely evil, and those who would burn us for daring to think such a thing. You’ll have your answer by the end of the week,” he promised her.
Now it was her turn to look surprised. “So quickly?” she asked doubtingly.
“Arthur is to leave on a hunting trip with several nobles, and it is easy enough for the king’s servant to eat something that turned his stomach wrong,” Merlin reminded her. Arthur had not wanted him to come along, claiming all Merlin did was scare away the game. Gregory was known for his indigestion, so another case would not seem unlikely. He would make sure the man was not seriously harmed, but under orders to stay in bed until his health had returned.
“And you would offer yourself in Gregory’s place? Serve Uther even though he is an enemy to what you know is right and good?” she clarified.
He nodded readily. “If it makes amends with you, I would do near anything,” he swore. He needed her on his side, needed to know she trusted him again.
Her eyebrows rose as she admitted, “I truly cannot think of a more vile task for you. Do this, find out Uther’s plans against my sister, and our trust is restored.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“You?” Arthur scoffed. He had his travelling gear in hand and stared at Merlin as if he had grown two heads.
“It’s the easiest solution,” Merlin insisted. He tried to sound like he did not like it, which was not a difficult thing to do.
“Serve my father, serve the king?” Arthur continued as if Merlin had not interrupted.
This is where Merlin knew he needed to talk fast. “Gregory is ill and Gauis believes it may be due to unhygienic practices with regards to food. This means the kitchens are to be scrubbed, but also that others may fall ill as well. As the physician’s apprentice, I know the safest ways of ensuring this illness is not passed. Would it not be prudent to have the person who best knows these means to protect the king from also falling ill?”
“The best person would then be Gaius,” Arthur reasoned.
Merlin tried not to curse, it never ended well. “Gaius needs to care for Gregory and anyone else who may fall ill. He knows the cure, I know the prevention,” he tried.
“As reluctant as I am to admit it, the boy has a point,” Uther declared from his spot at the table. He looked to Arthur and addressed only him as he said, “I trust that you have taught him the proper protocols by now? It has been weeks since he was last sent to the stocks, surely he is doing better?”
Merlin had been hoping Arthur would have already left by the time Gregory took ill but, unfortunately, the man truly did have a stomach more sensitive than most, and the timeline had sped up quite a bit.
Arthur looked as dour as his father usually did as he admitted, “He has improved greatly, and has shown his loyalty to this house and Camelot as a whole.”
“Good,” Uther nodded as if that decided everything. Being that he was the king, it likely did. “Merlin will serve me for one day. If he suits my needs, he may remain. If I am displeased with his services, he shall be brought to the stocks daily until your return,” he declared.
Merlin swallowed heavily while Arthur simply smirked. “Then it’s settled.” He turned to Merlin and warned, “Do try not to screw up. Should you prove to be an embarrassment, the stocks are the least of your worries.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Merlin made sure that he awoke extra early the next morning. If there happened to be magic involved to make sure of this, so be it. He put on his nicest tunic and trousers and made certain he was neat and clean and did not smell like the stables or any other foul thing. He gathered the king’s breakfast from the kitchens after watching it be made, guaranteeing nothing was wrong with it even though he knew nothing would be. He had a role to play and needed to stay in character as much as possible.
When he approached the king’s door, he was not surprised to find a guard stationed there. Neither was he surprised when the guard gave him a less than pleasant look. That looked changed when he noticed both Merlin’s appearance and the fact he had brought a timely meal. The look changed again, this time to a grin, when Merlin whispered, “Is it standard to knock, or just to enter? Arthur prefers the latter when he is hung over.”
The guard knocked for him, and even opened the door when Uther called for him to enter. He swept in as quickly as he dared, the platter balanced delicately and thankfully unwaveringly in his hands until he gently deposited it to the table he knew Uther tended to eat at given his time following Arthur to his father’s chambers.
He turned in Uther’s direction, head bowed and hands clasped behind his back like the obedient servant. The king was still in bed and clad in his nightclothes, robe draped across the stool at the foot of the bed. Merlin was not certain if the king wished to dress or eat first, so he planned to wait for instruction and simply let his presence be known with a demure, “Sire.”
“I shall dine first,” Uther declared as if sensing the hesitation.
Merlin quickly grabbed the robe and held it up; he helped to fit it around the king and even tied it when Uther made no move to do so. He knelt to help him into his slippers, and then stood to await further orders.
Uther raised an eyebrow at him, and advised, “I typically prefer my slippers first as the floor can be cold, but not bad for your first time.”
Merlin nodded and pulled out the chair at the head of the table. “Would you like me to tend to the fire, sire? Perhaps I could warm the room to your liking?”
Uther sat, but did not look at him as he said, “Please do.” Merlin caught a glimpse of his expression though, and it could only be described as pleasantly surprised. This, at least, was a step in the right direction.
He knelt by the fire and built it up to what he thought was a suitable strength, careful to use only his hands and no words that might have him beheaded by sunset. Satisfied, he cleaned his hands on a rag he had shoved in his pocket for just that purpose and stood to dutifully wait once more.
“You are for more competent than I gave you credit for,” Uther told him as he finished the last sausage. Merlin fought to control the growl of his stomach; Arthur always saved at least one for him.
“Thank you, sire,” he said for lack of any better response. It seemed to please Uther as he pushed his own chair back away from the table to prepare to get ready for the day. Actually, to be more accurate, it was to have Merlin prepare to get him ready for the day. Uther indicated that it was a day for hearing grievances and so Merlin chose what he hoped was an appropriate outfit for that based on what he had seen him wear before. There was only one slight mishap of Uther preferring a specific vest, but he did not seem angered about it, so Merlin counted it as a success.
“Gloves, please,” Uther order, shocking Merlin with the polite additive.
“Of course, sire,” Merlin replied. He grabbed a pair that matched the leather of Uther’s vest and realised it was possibly the first time he had seen the king without the accessory outside the time he had been on his deathbed. When he handed them to him, he noticed a possible reason why. There was a large scar that ran across the back of Uther’s right hand, wrapping around nearly to his wrist. From the way Uther held himself, it quite possibly still aggrieved him, and not simply for being a sign of weakness. “Are you in pain, sire?” he asked.
He realised his folly when Uther glared at him and nearly tore the gloves from his hands. “That is none of your concern.”
Merlin hung his head and tried to look as contrite as possible. “I meant no disrespect, sire,” he insisted. “I serve as the physician’s apprentice and have not heard of this injury. Perhaps there is something I could do to remedy any discomfort you may have?”
The glare softened, but only slightly. “As far as Gaius is concerned, this is an old injury that needs no aide, you would be wise to keep it as such,” Uther told him.
Merlin, of course, could not just leave it at that. It was a perfect chance to earn Uther’s trust, if only a little. “I would not dare to tell him, sire, but perhaps there is something I could do to help without his explicit knowledge?”
Uther looked intrigued, which Merlin took as possible permission. He gestured to the hand and Uther actually held it out, so he placed it between his own for a moment before he began to massage what he saw as incredibly tight muscles and tendons. The hand relaxed at his touch, as did Uther if the way his shoulders lost some of their height was any signal.
Merlin finished what he could, sans magic and medicines, and stepped back into what he was considering his ready position. “The technique is more effective with the proper salve, but hopefully that will suffice for now, sire,” he said with as much modesty as he could muster.
Uther flexed his hand before him as if in wonder before sliding on his glove and covering the injury once more. “Thank you,” he said, and sounded genuine. He began to walk towards the door as he confided, “Ygraine used to do something similar, but it has been a long time since anyone was bold enough to try.” There was a fond smile on his face, clearly lost in the memory, as he added, “She was always rather unconventional and never feared the crown or what it stood for.”
Merlin said nothing, knowing the subject of the queen was usually forbidden except in the most extreme of circumstances. He opened the door for the king, but waited at the threshold as he would for Arthur. Uther stepped through and took several steps before he huffed, “Come on then.”
Merlin knew the confusion was writ upon his face as he hurried to the king’s side once more. He could not help but ask, “Sire? Usually this would be the time I tend to the room and make certain everything is in order.” It was also the time he planned to search the room for information for Morgana.
Uther simply nodded. “That is because I have not yet rewarded Arthur with a separate chambermaid. Given his youth and, frankly, impulsiveness, I thought it best not to actively encourage any indiscretions at this time,” he explained. He continued to walk, obviously certain Merlin would follow. “You will attend me throughout the day. Your duties will be to make certain my needs are met, whether it be with a goblet or blade, and you will be allowed to make requests of the other servants as needed.”
Merlin nodded as if he understood and actively tried not to smile at the thought of being able to tell others what to do. Apparently being the king’s personal servant had some perks.
~~~~~~~~~~
Much later in the day, Merlin revised his opinion of being the king’s servant. Drastically.
One would have thought simply standing at the king’s side while he listed to noblemen and serfs alike complain about each other would not be tiring. One would be incorrect as he was constantly checking to see if the king needed anything else, offering a goblet of water the moment the king’s voice sounded even remotely hoarse, offering a plate of cheeses when he swore he heard the man’s stomach rumble. If he happened to steal one for himself when he retrieved it from the corners of the room, no one was the wiser.
The problem was, he could not think of any other way to earn the king’s trust. If he was not to be allowed alone in the room, there would be no way to search it. Aside from hoping to catch a snippet of conversation with the knights, or outright asking, he simply could not find a way to get his hands on the information.
The king decided to dine in his chambers that evening, so Merlin attended him there. His own meal was growing cold on a table in Gaius’ room, but he knew he was to ignore that for now. He stood to Uther’s side, the fire built high and the meal displayed neatly before him.
Uther dug in like a starving man, apparently forgoing his usual pretences of decorum he had when he ate in the main hall. It was odd, seeing the king relaxed in this way. He was far less kingly, and far more of just a man. Merlin could grow accustomed to seeing him like this; it took away some of the darkness and blood that always seemed nearby when the king stood forth.
About halfway through the meal, Uther paused, fork lower back to his plate, and commended, “You did well today, boy. Far better than I could have hoped, to be honest. Even Gregory cannot always anticipate my needs the way you did, and he has served me faithfully for many a year.”
“Thank you, sire,” Merlin told him. It seemed to be his mantra for the day. Thank the king, don’t die.
“After readying my bedclothes, you may clear the plates and retire for the evening. I expect to see you at the same time tomorrow,” he declared. Merlin was about to thank him, again, but was stopped by, “And, Merlin? You are aware that the kitchen is to have a meal ready for you before you bring me mine, correct? The same rule applies when bringing Arthur his.”
Merlin stuttered. He had not known that. He usually ate whatever Gaius gave him and left it at that. “I was not aware, sire,” was all he managed.
Uther smirked. “I did not think so. I could hear your stomach growling from here. When you bring my plates to the kitchen, do remind them of proper protocol and state it is by order of the king if they protest. You should have a fresh meal prepared if yours has gone cold,” he explained. His tone was almost kind, and Merlin did not know whether he should be frightened or not. Instead, he stuck to his standard response, and Uther seemed just as happy with that.
Merlin laid out the nightshirt and robe, and placed the slippers where he thought Uther might find them convenient. When Uther stood, even though he knew he was technically dismissed for the evening, he forced himself to ask, “Did you need assistance, sire?”
Uther paused, and seriously looked as if he was about to decline. With a tilt of his head though, he said, “Please.” Merlin helped him remove the outer jacket and vest, hanging them neatly in the armoire. He took the pendants and medallions handed to him and placed them in the correct cupboard as well. Before he was completely undressed though, Uther handed him his pair of gloves and said, “Thank you.”
Merlin took that as the dismissal it was and tucked the gloves away and picked up the detritus from the evening meal. As he parted, he promised, “I shall try to obtain the salve in the morning.” Just before he tugged the door shut, he swore he saw the most unusual thing: Uther smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next day was very similar to the first with the noted exception that Merlin had a belly full of warm supper followed by a belly full of warm breakfast to help see him through the day. The cook honestly looked chagrined as she explained she thought he was obtaining his meals elsewhere and that she would remedy the error immediately.
Uther was awake before he got there, even though he managed to wake up even earlier to have time eat his new and improved breakfast before he arrived. The king was quite enthusiastic about the salve’s properties and, if Merlin happened to add a bit more effectiveness to it via other means, there was no one the wiser. Fit, fed, and dressed, he went out to face another day of grievances, mixed with a meeting with the king’s top advisors for a little bit of variety. Merlin had hoped the advising would include the plans for Morgause but, alas, it was only about taxes and building a new fortification on the western border and was quite boring actually.
He noticed something though, as the day wore on. Uther seemed... closer, for lack of a better word. His finger’s brushed Merlin’s when he accepted a goblet, and his shoulder even brushed up against Merlin’s own several times as they walked the halls. It was not uncomfortable, simply odd, and only happened when no one else was around. It was as though Uther was more relaxed without needing to perform for others, and, apparently, had decided to include Merlin in his circle of comfort.
It was around the time that Merlin came to this realisation that he also came up with what he knew to be a very bad idea.
~~~~~~~~~~
That night, he had kept to the dutiful servant act as he had throughout the day. He waited until the next morning to implement his plan.
The plan itself was relatively simple: he was to flirt. He had done it before with others to great success. To wonderful, body aching success if he was to be honest with himself, but for now he planned on keeping it simple. Get Uther relaxed, maybe even flirt back, and then pose a question or three to find out what he needed to know. Sir Lawrence had never suspected a thing and, if he was careful enough, neither would Uther.
He started small: a batting of eyes that got a sharp head turn, a brushing of hands that received a smile. He stood just a bit closer when he poured Uther’s wine that night, and closer still when he asked if Uther would like another treatment for his hand before he retired for the evening.
He took his time with the salve and the massage, rubbing the sweet-smelling ointment into every joint and pressing deeply against every tendon. He leaned closer as his thumbs pressed against the meaty palm, plying and loosening while he felt breath ghost across his ear. That breath turned to a reluctant sigh as he pulled back, letting his own hands slowly drift down as his gaze slowly drifted up. His tongue darted out across his lips, something that could be seen as accidental, or inviting.
“Merlin?” Uther asked, eyes searching.
“Yes, sire?” Merlin replied. If he was a bit breathless it surely only had to do with the king’s extremely close proximity.
A proximity that shrank even further as Uther pressed up against him, head tilted ever so slightly to the side. Merlin let him come to him, let him be the one to choose as was his right. Warm lips pressed against his own, hesitant at first, more forceful when he surrendered and opened to him. A tongue, moist and tasting faintly of venison, licked its way in, traced his teeth before darting further, tasting and being tasted in return.
Merlin had no idea that they had even moved until he felt his back press up against the wall of the fireplace, eliciting a gasp that made Uther pull back suddenly and his hands release their grip on Merlin’s tunic as if burned. “My apologies,” Uther breathed. His chest heaved and his head was hung as if in contrition.
“Sire?” Merlin asked. He kept his tone innocent, wanting, not giving everything away just yet.
His hands were still fisted in Uther’s vest, preventing him from escaping further. Of course a man of the king’s size and ability could have easily broken the hold, but the fact he did not try was telling. “I shouldn’t have,” Uther told him. He pulled back further, but still not enough to free himself. “It’s not proper, and I do not want you to think you are required to do so as part of your duties...”
“It would be a most enjoyable part of my duties,” Merlin told him coyly. He was not lying, Uther could kiss with the best of them. His own breathlessness was far from an act, as were other responses he could feel burning in his blood. “I just never thought... A lowly servant rewarded with such a gift from his king...”
Uther licked his lips and Merlin tracked the movement, mimicked it. “I am not a king, not here and not now,” Uther told him. “I present myself to you as a man, and ask that you make your decision based upon that, not based upon some sense of duty or obligation.”
Merlin nodded, knowing his eyes were likely as wide and glazed as the man’s before him. “I have made my choice,” he smiled, and tugged him closer once more.
There was more kissing, and a fair amount of groping. Merlin’s scarf was pulled off, and his neck and throat quickly descended upon by lips and tongue instead. His back was no longer pressed against the wall, but he had no idea that they had moved so far until Uther laid back against the pillows of his bed and pulled Merlin down on top of him.
Merlin straddled the king’s waist, braced one hand near the pillow while the other he dragged down a quite muscular arm. He knew the position was Uther’s way of letting him know he was to treat him as anyone else, to not give in or submit solely because of who he was bedding. There was no way he would ever truly see him as anything other than king and sovereign, but the fact that Uther was willing him to try was telling. He also knew Uther was enjoying this at least as much as he was, if the hard heat pressing against his thigh was any indication. A slight shift and Merlin rolled his hips. He watched as Uther’s eyes clenched shut even as pleasure surged throughout his own body. He did it again simply because he could, and was rewarded with a breathy moan that could have been either his or the king’s, he no longer could tell.
Uther’s hands fisted in his tunic once more, tried to pull it free from his belt. Merlin shivered as impatient fingers found the line of skin just above his trousers, gasped as they pressed beneath the waistband and cupped him there.
He fought the urge to thrust as he stuttered, “S-sire?”
Uther was more than a bit breathless as he reminded, “Just a man.”
“Be easier to think that if you weren’t still wearing your crown,” Merlin pointed out.
Uther laughed, something that bubbled up from deep inside his chest and burst forth as if it had been too long trapped inside. His hand moved though, and then all Merlin could do was bite back a moan.
He had tensed his muscles, ready to finally thrust, when there was a knock on the door. He knew the disbelief was writ as clearly across his own face as it was across the man beneath him.
“Sire, there is word from the hunting party,” the page called through the door, which thankfully remained closed.
Uther gave Merlin a look of regret, and one filthily long stroke, before he reluctantly removed his hand and let Merlin climb off of him. It was a matter of moments to straighten clothing into something respectable once more and for Merlin to stand off to the side, aching and hard and tying his scarf back into place.
The page entered at the king’s request and Merlin made certain it looked simply as though he was readying the bedding for the evening, not smoothing out the evidence of what they had just done. What they had nearly done.
The boy was long-winded, but carried an important message in all of his words. After a reluctant nod of permission, Merlin gathered the dishes from the evening meal. He overheard just enough to know that it was not Arthur but a nobleman who was injured, and that the party was returning to seek medical attention. They should return in a day, perhaps two, as they intended to travel slowly to accommodate the injured man. He left with a promise to inform Gaius, and a great need for a moment or two alone.
~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, unfortunately, was far too similar to the day before. Merlin brought Uther his morning meal, but the engagements of the day left no time for anything more than lingering touch and an apologetic look.
By midmorning, Merlin had started to count all the accidental brushes against each other. By midday, he had given up and wrote it off as simply many, and began to think they were not so accidental at all. He caught Morgana’s gaze once, her questioning expression, but he rewarded her with a look of innocence and confusion instead. It worked and she left him alone, not even sending Gwen after him on a fact-finding mission. He considered that a success.
When Uther requested his evening meal in his chambers, Merlin had a suspicion as to how the night would end. When Uther barely managed to eat enough of the food to keep the kitchens happy, Merlin nearly vibrated with anticipation.
Plate pushed to the side, Uther finally rose. He turned to face Merlin with only the hint of hesitation in his eyes. Slowly, deliberately, he removed his crown and set it on the table.
Merlin grinned.
~~~~~~~~~~
Later, when the candles burned low and the fire was nearly banked, Merlin traced the pattern of the fine fabric of the canopy with his eyes, his body too sated to move much else. He ached in the most delicious of ways and revelled in the fine silk against his bare skin, the warm body at his side.
The bed beneath him shifted, and he turned his head to find Uther propped on his side, gazing down at him. “Something troubles you?” the king asked. “I do hope it is not the time we spent together.”
Merlin hastily shook his head. “It is not that at all, I assure you, sire.” He offered a smile that usually got him his way in pretty much any and all instances and added, “I most definitely do not regret that.”
Uther smiled back at him, something Merlin was getting quite accustomed to. “Speak your mind and we can find a resolution to what is keeping you from rest.”
“It’s not my place,” Merlin began, hesitant. Uther gave him a look to tell him that many things were not, but that had not stopped him yet. He frowned and tried only to look like a concerned friend, not a plotting servant. “I worry for the Lady Morgana. She seems so withdrawn since her return. I believe her nightmares may have returned, but she will not accept the draughts Gaius prepares. Gwen seeks something to help her, but we have found nothing yet. Surely she deserves as restful as a night as I have been awarded.”
“Perhaps the knowledge that her kidnapper will soon be destroyed will allow her sleep more soundly,” Uther offered. His hand ghosted down his side and Merlin leaned into the touch.
“That is likely, sire,” Merlin agreed.
“I have a full contingent of men ready to attack and destroy both Idirsholas and the castle where the witch deceived my son,” Uther promised, his voice as soothing as his touch.
“That should please her greatly, sire,” Merlin told him. It was not a lie; that was the very information Morgana had requested. However, as always, Merlin could not leave well enough alone. He knew that would leave one place for Morgause to hide and plot. “Gwen mentioned the lady’s desire to visit the home that was once her father’s. She fears she seeks purchase in the past to right her future.”
“Then my men will ensure it is safe and we will journey there together,” Uther replied.
“I believe such an offer would change her mood greatly,” Merlin nodded, silently amused at his own understatement.
Uther wore a new expression as he met Merlin’s gaze. “You are a good man, Merlin,” he told him. “You care greatly for my son and my ward, and I feel this care and protection holds true for far more than simply the royal household.”
“Camelot is my home now,” Merlin said, meaning every word of it. “I will die a thousand times over to protect it, and will serve her with every drop of my being.”
“Is this simply part of the service?” Uther asked, gesturing between them. He looked amused more than concerned though, so Merlin played off of it.
“This is truly one of the most pleasurable aspects of service,” Merlin agreed. He let his own hands roam free, earning both a smile and quick exhalation for his actions.
Uther pulled Merlin’s hands away though, and placed them at his side. At his questioning look, Uther placed a hand on his chest and told him, “I am not as young as I once was.” The hand drifted lower and Merlin could not stop the mewl that escaped him as he arched into the touch. Uther continued, calm as could be as he elicited new and interesting responses from Merlin’s body, “I may not be yet ready, but there is no reason why one as young as you should suffer.”
At that, Merlin surrendered to the touch and lost himself in the pleasure. He figured, if nothing else, it was a reward for a job well done. As he slowly came undone, he could not help the part of him that hoped it was something more.
~~~~~~~~~~
Gaius did not question why Merlin returned both late and a bit dishevelled that night. He was a young man, after all, and allowed his freedoms. His mentor did, however, warn, “For pity’s sake, Merlin, you are serving the king. Do hope that you are not too tired to do your duty in the morning.”
Merlin smiled and tried not to openly laugh. “I assure you, I will be ready, willing, and able come morning, and the king will sing nothing but my praises.”
Gaius rolled his eyes, and waved him towards his room as he bid him a good night.
~~~~~~~~~~
Arthur and his hunting party returned when the sun was high in the sky the next day. Lord Olen was brought immediately to Gaius for treatment and, around that time, Gregory was deemed well enough to return to the king’s service.
Merlin was clearing the dishes from the afternoon meal when Arthur visited his father to apprise him of the situation. “Given that the stocks were empty, I trust my manservant was actually competent during my time away?” Arthur asked.
Merlin did not roll his eyes, but it was a near thing. Arthur knew him too well though, and smirked at his efforts. It was precisely how well Arthur knew him that led Merlin to be quite glad he was to resume his old duties. There was no way he could successfully keep such a secret from the prince, who knew his routines and timelines far too well after this long of service.
Uther looked amused at the interaction as he replied, “He did well enough, though Gregory is to return today so I must remand the boy back to your custody.”
“I am sure it is quite the hardship to lose his superb services,” Arthur replied.
Merlin was certain Arthur was making a face, even though he could not see it from his position behind the prince. Instead, he lowered his head slightly, as if in reverence to the king, and slowly licked his lips.
Now it was Uther’s turn to smirk. “In truth, I would not mind having him in my service again some day,” he declared.
While Arthur tried to work out what his father meant by that, but thankfully not why one of Merlin’s scarves was poking out from beneath a pillow atop the bed, Merlin took his leave.
He had done his duty for Morgana and knew she was pleased enough with the results to trust him again, which served his own purposes as well. He would do his duty for the prince and ready his rooms and save his life and gently guide him to become the great leader he would one day be. He would also, as promised this morning as he lay against silk sheets damp with sweat, body both sated and humming with energy, do his duty to the man they called king. That was something he was most definitely looking forward to.
~~~~~~~~~~
And my sad attempt at art can be found here. I did not have a working scanner, so this was taken with a digital camera that somehow made things very dark. Sorry!
~~~~~~~~~~
Feedback is always welcome (I think).
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This is made of so much awesome. Merlin is very, very clever, yes he is. *pets him* I love that he is calculative and coy, and uses his 'guileless' charm to get his way. Very determined to get results, yet doesn't see anything wrong with enjoying the 'perks'. This is my Merlin. *glomps you*
And oooh, you write good Uther too. That he should tell Merlin he was asking as a man... eee! ♥! Aside from the sorcerer-murdering ways, he must be a good man and king, because he did raise Arthur, and his people do support him (aside from some murderous sorcerers, heh). I love it when authors expose the human side of Uther, and you've done this wonderfully. ♥
And did I say Merlin is clever? Oh, so devious, wanting to be seen to help Morgana, but not letting Morgause get her way either. Awesomesauce.
The only bad thing about this is you didn't include the NC17 parts. *pouts* I know, I know, you can't write explicit stuff (yet) hehehe. But I gotta say, the image of Merlin undulating on top of Uther is certainly drool worthy. *drools* (your picture is cute though, *g*)
In short: *\o/* WRITE MOAR PLS N TQ
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And yeah, this is my "Merlin as a manipulative little bastard" fic. Man was that fun to write. *g* Extra bonus for you liking the characterizations. Awesome! I wasn't sure if Uther still worked softening him up some, but would like to think he can't be all hardass all the time, else what would Ygraine have seen in him? Plus, like you said, Arthur's not pure evil so there must be some good in him.
Very happy you enjoyed, ma'am, and I thank you for your kind words. :)
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Renee
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Maybe I like the James/Morgan RPF for this reason?
Renee
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Wonderful story! :D
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Thanks again!