Slow Dancing in a Burning Room (1/?)- Merlin (Arthur/OFC)
Author: artmut12
Title: Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Arthur/OFC, Percival/OFC
Summary: "This was all wrong. The happiness and love that they had developed since their marriage was a stone’s throw away from breaking because of the emptiness of her womb and what he asked of her to fill it."
Warnings: A whole lot of angst!
Word Count: 1611
Spoilers: Slight spoiler for 2x08, if you look real hard.
“What are you asking of me?” she whispered, her voice on the verge of breaking. The room seemed to spin around her and her head felt dizzy. Desperately she tried to comprehend what her husband, her king was asking of her. Arthur did not have to finish what he was saying for her to see what he was getting at, even if she had asked. The sad glint in his eyes and the iron control he had over his features was all the tell she need.
“Roselyn” there was something so heart breaking in the tone of his voice that it took her all her power to not let out the sob that clung to her throat.
Arthur took a step toward her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek delicately. His thumb reached out and caressed the damp skin, wet from her silently shed tears. “We have been married for eight years, eight wonderful years” a small smile pulled at his lips, but it was as fleeting as the wind, gone in a moment. “But the gods, old and new, have not blessed us with a child. This kingdom needs a heir or it will crumble back into ruin.” Arthur paused as if bracing himself for what he had to say next. Roselyn wanted to cover her ears so she wouldn’t have to hear it.
“Arthur…”
“No, let me finish this” he hushed her, his fingers resting lightly on her trembling lips. “I don’t know if it is from the circumstance of my birth, but I feel the fault may lie with me. I will not do to you what my father did to my mother, so we must try another, safer way. I would be proud to be the father of anyone of my knights and your child”
“Arthur, please stop. What you are saying is unthinkable” Roselyn threw her arms around his strong, warm body and clung to him. She squeezed her eyes shut and relished the feeling of his embrace.
“No, my dear queen it is what must be done. It is the sacrifice we both must make to keep our people safe. The time before my father was dark and I would do all I can to prevent that from coming to pass again. I will not force you Roselyn, but I will ask you”
She stepped away from him, suddenly angry at him for suggesting such a thing. Had their marriage meant so little to him? Had she meant so little to him? How dare he try and pass her around his knights little a common whore? The tears burned hot with rage in her eyes and Roselyn turned her back to him. She walked over to the bed and held the post for support. This was all wrong. The happiness and love that they had developed since their marriage was a stone’s throw away from breaking because of the emptiness of her womb and what he asked of her to fill it. Anger hit her in second wave for the absence of life inside her and the need to have it so. Desperately she wished they were just simple country folk and not the rulers of the land. Then her barrenness would not matter.
Arthur touched her shoulder gently and as quickly as the anger had come it deflated into sadness deep in her chest. She would do what he asked of her, but she could already feel the pieces of their life together crumbling.
***
The knock at the door startled Roselyn out of her thoughts. She took one more fleeting look at her and Arthur’s bed before she called for him to enter. Arthur insisted that it be done in their bed, so if asked he could honestly say that the child was conceived in the king’s bed. Even in dishonor, Arthur had to have honor and honesty. Roselyn hated and loved him for it. It was what made up Arthur. She wondered idly what made up her. What kind of wife, what kind of queen was she if she took another, even at the insistence of her husband, her king? “Come in” she called softly.
The door creaked open almost in slow motion, every second feeling like hours until he appeared. Percy was a handsome man. That she could not deny. He was tall, taller than any of the knights and taller than Arthur. His naked arms were corded with hard muscle, running down towards his large hands telling of their brute strength. The rest of his body she imagined was the same: hard, muscled and strong. Percy’s face in contrast was gentle somehow. No doubt he looked fierce in battle, but standing there before her there was a certain vulnerability to it, almost a boyish quality. The yellow gold of his hair glowed in the candle light.
Percy was so different from Arthur, yet he was the same. He would do what his king asked of him; do his duty because he loved him as not just a lord but as a brother. Percy would understand that the kingdom needed an heir and that no price was too great to protect the people of Camelot. He would understand because he already was willing to put his life on the line to see such goal reached. Roselyn wished she could understand as they did and part of her was glad she didn’t. Some things were too sacred to offer up.
“M’lady” the strong, low tenor of his voice filled the silent chamber. She could almost feel it rumbling in her chest, or maybe it was the wild thump of her heart.
“Come here” she said with more calm then she felt. Percy obeyed; his long legs brought him across the room to her in only a few strides. Then he was standing at the foot of her bed and she rose to join him. Roselyn felt very small next to his great height as she craned her neck up to look in his piercing hazel eyes. “Do you remember when we first me? You were escorting me from my home to Camelot to be wed to Arthur. You rescued me from the bandits that attacked on the road. I stitched up the wound you got on your arm.”
“I remember”
“You loved me once; do you think you can again?”
“I never stopped”
Then suddenly she wasn’t standing, but cradled in Percy’s arm like a new bride being brought over the threshold. He laid her gently on the bed, his muscled frame hovering over top of her. Percy bowed down to capture her lips and she gave herself to him willingly. The kiss was soft at first, transforming rapidly as hands explored and their bodies pressed together. Percy treated her gently, like a glass vase that could break at too strong a touch. He undressed her slowly, kissing each new expanse of exposed skin and lavishing it with affection.
When Percy took off his tunic, Roselyn sat up and stared for a moment. His whole body seemed to ripple under her gaze. She reached out and ran her fingers over the hard muscle of his stomach. He was the god of strength, yet there was also gentleness in his soul. A surprised yelp left her lips as he reeled her into him and onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck instinctively, her finger scratching up into his hair. Her breasts pressed deliciously against the wide expanse of his chest and his hands spanned the width of her back. Roselyn rocked forward and felt the press of his desire through his breaches.
He took her the same way he did everything else, with sweet gentleness. Percy loved her slowly, letting her release rise bit by agonizing bit until it completely and utterly spilled over. Only after she found her own pleasure did he seek his own. With a low groan, he stilled and spilled his seed into her. Carefully he fell down onto the bed next to her, his great chest heaving with his effort. Roselyn ran her fingers over him just because she could and made her way up to his recently shave cheek. She could already feel a bit of stubble beneath her fingertips. Percy plucked her hand away and pressed them instead to his lips. She curled up to the heat of his body and tried to quiet the chaos of her mind.
“I must go, lest I fall asleep in your arms” he said after sometime.
“Yes”
Roselyn helped him dress, as a knowing silence settled over them. They parted with a long gaze and a quiet goodbye. She went back to her and Arthur's bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Percy’s warmth and scent still clung to the linens and in some strange way it felt like he was still there as she drifted off to sleep.
Arthur returned sometime during the night, his weight dipping the bed and waking her from her sleep. He slipped under the covers and laid there still. Just when she thought he had gone to sleep he whispered her name into the silence of the chamber. “Roselyn…” she could hear the pain in his voice as he softly touched her shoulder.
She rolled away from his touch, onto her side. “What you have asked is done. We shall see soon if my womb carries your heir. If not I will do it again, for the good of the kingdom.”
The silence returned again, its heaviness pressing down upon them.
Title: Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Arthur/OFC, Percival/OFC
Summary: "This was all wrong. The happiness and love that they had developed since their marriage was a stone’s throw away from breaking because of the emptiness of her womb and what he asked of her to fill it."
Warnings: A whole lot of angst!
Word Count: 1611
Spoilers: Slight spoiler for 2x08, if you look real hard.
“What are you asking of me?” she whispered, her voice on the verge of breaking. The room seemed to spin around her and her head felt dizzy. Desperately she tried to comprehend what her husband, her king was asking of her. Arthur did not have to finish what he was saying for her to see what he was getting at, even if she had asked. The sad glint in his eyes and the iron control he had over his features was all the tell she need.
“Roselyn” there was something so heart breaking in the tone of his voice that it took her all her power to not let out the sob that clung to her throat.
Arthur took a step toward her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek delicately. His thumb reached out and caressed the damp skin, wet from her silently shed tears. “We have been married for eight years, eight wonderful years” a small smile pulled at his lips, but it was as fleeting as the wind, gone in a moment. “But the gods, old and new, have not blessed us with a child. This kingdom needs a heir or it will crumble back into ruin.” Arthur paused as if bracing himself for what he had to say next. Roselyn wanted to cover her ears so she wouldn’t have to hear it.
“Arthur…”
“No, let me finish this” he hushed her, his fingers resting lightly on her trembling lips. “I don’t know if it is from the circumstance of my birth, but I feel the fault may lie with me. I will not do to you what my father did to my mother, so we must try another, safer way. I would be proud to be the father of anyone of my knights and your child”
“Arthur, please stop. What you are saying is unthinkable” Roselyn threw her arms around his strong, warm body and clung to him. She squeezed her eyes shut and relished the feeling of his embrace.
“No, my dear queen it is what must be done. It is the sacrifice we both must make to keep our people safe. The time before my father was dark and I would do all I can to prevent that from coming to pass again. I will not force you Roselyn, but I will ask you”
She stepped away from him, suddenly angry at him for suggesting such a thing. Had their marriage meant so little to him? Had she meant so little to him? How dare he try and pass her around his knights little a common whore? The tears burned hot with rage in her eyes and Roselyn turned her back to him. She walked over to the bed and held the post for support. This was all wrong. The happiness and love that they had developed since their marriage was a stone’s throw away from breaking because of the emptiness of her womb and what he asked of her to fill it. Anger hit her in second wave for the absence of life inside her and the need to have it so. Desperately she wished they were just simple country folk and not the rulers of the land. Then her barrenness would not matter.
Arthur touched her shoulder gently and as quickly as the anger had come it deflated into sadness deep in her chest. She would do what he asked of her, but she could already feel the pieces of their life together crumbling.
***
The knock at the door startled Roselyn out of her thoughts. She took one more fleeting look at her and Arthur’s bed before she called for him to enter. Arthur insisted that it be done in their bed, so if asked he could honestly say that the child was conceived in the king’s bed. Even in dishonor, Arthur had to have honor and honesty. Roselyn hated and loved him for it. It was what made up Arthur. She wondered idly what made up her. What kind of wife, what kind of queen was she if she took another, even at the insistence of her husband, her king? “Come in” she called softly.
The door creaked open almost in slow motion, every second feeling like hours until he appeared. Percy was a handsome man. That she could not deny. He was tall, taller than any of the knights and taller than Arthur. His naked arms were corded with hard muscle, running down towards his large hands telling of their brute strength. The rest of his body she imagined was the same: hard, muscled and strong. Percy’s face in contrast was gentle somehow. No doubt he looked fierce in battle, but standing there before her there was a certain vulnerability to it, almost a boyish quality. The yellow gold of his hair glowed in the candle light.
Percy was so different from Arthur, yet he was the same. He would do what his king asked of him; do his duty because he loved him as not just a lord but as a brother. Percy would understand that the kingdom needed an heir and that no price was too great to protect the people of Camelot. He would understand because he already was willing to put his life on the line to see such goal reached. Roselyn wished she could understand as they did and part of her was glad she didn’t. Some things were too sacred to offer up.
“M’lady” the strong, low tenor of his voice filled the silent chamber. She could almost feel it rumbling in her chest, or maybe it was the wild thump of her heart.
“Come here” she said with more calm then she felt. Percy obeyed; his long legs brought him across the room to her in only a few strides. Then he was standing at the foot of her bed and she rose to join him. Roselyn felt very small next to his great height as she craned her neck up to look in his piercing hazel eyes. “Do you remember when we first me? You were escorting me from my home to Camelot to be wed to Arthur. You rescued me from the bandits that attacked on the road. I stitched up the wound you got on your arm.”
“I remember”
“You loved me once; do you think you can again?”
“I never stopped”
Then suddenly she wasn’t standing, but cradled in Percy’s arm like a new bride being brought over the threshold. He laid her gently on the bed, his muscled frame hovering over top of her. Percy bowed down to capture her lips and she gave herself to him willingly. The kiss was soft at first, transforming rapidly as hands explored and their bodies pressed together. Percy treated her gently, like a glass vase that could break at too strong a touch. He undressed her slowly, kissing each new expanse of exposed skin and lavishing it with affection.
When Percy took off his tunic, Roselyn sat up and stared for a moment. His whole body seemed to ripple under her gaze. She reached out and ran her fingers over the hard muscle of his stomach. He was the god of strength, yet there was also gentleness in his soul. A surprised yelp left her lips as he reeled her into him and onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck instinctively, her finger scratching up into his hair. Her breasts pressed deliciously against the wide expanse of his chest and his hands spanned the width of her back. Roselyn rocked forward and felt the press of his desire through his breaches.
He took her the same way he did everything else, with sweet gentleness. Percy loved her slowly, letting her release rise bit by agonizing bit until it completely and utterly spilled over. Only after she found her own pleasure did he seek his own. With a low groan, he stilled and spilled his seed into her. Carefully he fell down onto the bed next to her, his great chest heaving with his effort. Roselyn ran her fingers over him just because she could and made her way up to his recently shave cheek. She could already feel a bit of stubble beneath her fingertips. Percy plucked her hand away and pressed them instead to his lips. She curled up to the heat of his body and tried to quiet the chaos of her mind.
“I must go, lest I fall asleep in your arms” he said after sometime.
“Yes”
Roselyn helped him dress, as a knowing silence settled over them. They parted with a long gaze and a quiet goodbye. She went back to her and Arthur's bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Percy’s warmth and scent still clung to the linens and in some strange way it felt like he was still there as she drifted off to sleep.
Arthur returned sometime during the night, his weight dipping the bed and waking her from her sleep. He slipped under the covers and laid there still. Just when she thought he had gone to sleep he whispered her name into the silence of the chamber. “Roselyn…” she could hear the pain in his voice as he softly touched her shoulder.
She rolled away from his touch, onto her side. “What you have asked is done. We shall see soon if my womb carries your heir. If not I will do it again, for the good of the kingdom.”
The silence returned again, its heaviness pressing down upon them.