This is what happens, people, when you suggest sequels in comments.
Title: Destiny Part Deux.
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Other ( where "other" is just about anyone, really ), Arthur/Guinevere.
Warnings: Uhm. A little angst, I suppose. You have to squint a bit because it's all a little odd. Oh, and I tried to write the GSD again. I feel I should warn you about that. Really badly written GSD this time...
Spoiler(s): A little one for series two. Set before Kilgharrah was set free still.
Word count: 728.
Rating: NC-17, to be safe.
Summary: Arthur loves Merlin, but does Merlin love Arthur?
Author's Notes: I was inspired by some art by eva_angelb. The one where Merlin is crying was great, but it was the line "Arthur is your destiny, Merlin, it is true, but never did I say you were his." That really inspired me. I am not sure if this is what you had in mind, eva_angelb, but this is what I ended up coming up with. Anywho, a few people asked for a sequel. Well, ask and ye shall receive! Do not say that I do not listen to what people say in my comments.
Merlin was still none the wiser.
The dragon had always been confusing. He liked to say things that he knew Merlin would not understand and then fly away leaving Merlin’s head clouded and lost.
Arthur was his destiny. He was not Arthur’s.
What was he on about?
Did it mean that Arthur was his love’s destiny? Or something stupid like that? That Arthur was destined to love him, but that he was not destined to love Arthur?
If it weren’t for the fact that he knew full well it wouldn’t help, Merlin would go ask the dragon for his advice. But the dragon was being stupidly quiet on it, and so Merlin was walking around with a permanent confused expression on his face, sometimes only changed for a scowl that sent people running. Merlin might be Arthur’s friendly manservant, and a skinny little thing to boot, but he looked pretty intimidating when he scowled like that.
That night, they had sex.
It always amazed Merlin that, though he didn’t truly love Arthur, sex with him was nothing like he’d ever had before. Nothing like with Will, that was for sure. Maybe it was the fact that Arthur was bigger - because he certainly was - or maybe it was just that Arthur actually had much more idea of what he was doing.
That probably contributed rather a lot to it.
But it always ended with Merlin rutting against the sheets for friction, Arthur groaning and both of them releasing together, Arthur buried to the hilt in Merlin and Merlin all over Arthur’s sheets, which he’d then have to change.
But that night, Arthur tugged Merlin back, pressing his back against his chest. Since it was always Merlin that held Arthur, the warlock knew something important was happening, so he allowed Arthur to press him into his sweaty chest.
“You don’t love me, do you, Merlin?” Arthur asked softly. He sounded sad and resigned, but not angry. It was still the last thing Merlin had expected, however.
“Of course I do, sire,” Merlin whispered.
“But not in the right way,” Arthur murmured. Merlin sighed.
“Not in the way you want,” Merlin agreed.
“I understand,” Arthur said softly, and Merlin felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Merlin whispered.
“Don’t be. It is not your fault.”
They lay in silence for a while, and Merlin began to suspect that Arthur had fallen to sleep.
“I will have to take a wife, Merlin. Some day soon, I suspect. My father…he is ill. He knows it is nearly time,” Arthur murmured after a while.
Merlin froze. He had never considered this. The thought of someone else…of a woman…being with Arthur…it made a strange jumble of emotions roil in his belly. It took him a few moments to realise it was jealousy. Pure, intense, unadulterated jealousy.
“I understand,” he murmured.
Arthur made him change the sheets and then they curled up together in their normal formation, Arthur clinging to him like a baby, every limb wrapped around Merlin. Even though he knew his manservant did not feel the same, he still wanted him there. Merlin had a hard time imagining that Arthur’s future wife would be willing to do this.
As soon as Merlin was sure Arthur was asleep, he slipped away to see the dragon.
He was waiting on the rock already, licking the scales of one paw clean, his tongue rasping roughly over the golden scales.
I’ve been expecting you, young warlock, he said, lowering his paw back down and settling himself.
“You said I was not Arthur’s destiny. So why do I not want him to get a wife?” Merlin asked. The dragon chuckled.
Never did I say you wouldn’t love Arthur, the dragon said. Merlin groaned.
“But you said I wasn’t his destiny!” Merlin cried.
Yes, I did. You were angry with him, young warlock, for killing the Druid girl. You did not realise it, but you were. And now you are upset because Arthur will need to get a wife, but you want him yourself, the dragon said. He was being unusually helpful tonight, just when Merlin wanted him to simply tell him everything was going to be okay.
“So…if I am not Arthur’s destiny, who is?” Merlin asked.
The dragon lowered his great head until he could look Merlin in the eyes.
Guinevere.