Fanfic: (Don't) Regret the Mistakes - Part Five

[eiralys76]

*Ten Days Later*

Merlin was feeling more positive within himself than he had in a very long time. For so many months, his life had been like corrupted date, his life a scene played on an endless loop, the same motions replayed, progression impossible. All that had changed in the last twenty-four hours. He had made a telephone call to an organization which specialized in helping people exit prostitution.

He had spoken to a counsellor over the phone, who had understood that he did not want to live this life anymore, that he needed help to figure out how to leave, and not just end up back on the game. There was money in his bank account, but it would not last forever. Even just the thought of trying to look for legitimate job felt intimidating, but the counsellor had reassured him, that with some references from his home town, and some skirting around his experiences for the last eighteen months, it was quite likely that he could find himself regular employment.

With his interest in music, the counsellor had been keen to suggest various options, including trying to get some work experience in relevant areas, whether working as a techie, helping hand for any friends who were gigging, applying to work in venues where music was performed, music stores, anything which would connect in with his love of music. There might not be as much money in these jobs, but he would feel real again, not someone whose whole existence was to live in a shadow, to provide a fantasy experience and then never bother a person in real life again.

Merlin thought again about Arthur, who had wanted to somehow make their experience a real one, but at the same time, wanted him to be hidden away, a shameful secret. Merlin was tired of a life where he was expected to hand over not just his body, but his soul, for a sum of money, and to give of himself, and receive a warning in return. Maybe Merlin could admit to himself, that he wanted Arthur to like him as a man, a friend, to treat him on an equal footing. But his fear, of being discovered, ruined by association with a prostitute, had overridden any potential for friendship, because to a man like Arthur, Merlin would always only ever be, a whore, or a former whore. Perhaps Arthur had believed him to be beautiful, unexpectedly wise and kind, but there would always be the chasm, between Arthur's destiny to be a leader, a Conservative MP, and maybe in years to come, to be entrusted with ever greater responsibilities and challenges, and the very human, scandalous nature of their initial meeting. Merlin knew that no matter how much Arthur may have personally liked him, that he would not ever sacrifice his aspirations of leadership which could be destroyed by a liaison between them.

He had wanted Arthur to come back to him. For their time together to have not been a once off mistake, but rather, the beginning of some kind of connection which would see them bring out the best in each other, where they would complement each other, and be better for the influence they had on one another. It was not to be. Merlin would take the steps he needed to exit prostitution, he would probably never see Arthur again, unless in the newspapers, or on television, and maybe Merlin would always feel a pang of bitterness in those moments, but he would move on, and make his life the one he wanted to live. He had stepped into suffocating quicksand, and needed to escape before it claimed him forever.

Tonight was going to be his final night. He had told Grunhilda, and she had tried to wheedle a few more weeks out of him, going on with a ridiculous sob story about how he was so popular, and why did he want to quit now when he had become a favorite for so many of the punters, but he refused to offer her any more than a final night. He would collect his things, and leave the brothel for the last time. It was not secure, unless you might describe a prison as secure.

Merlin had been dismayed to see a booking with Nollar. He was always pushing the boundaries, and was easily Merlin's least favorite client. He was belligerent, rude, and treated Merlin like he was a rag to wipe his boots clean.

Unfortunately, Merlin had become his favorite. He sometimes saw him only once a month, other times it was once or twice in a week. From very early on, he had taken to calling Merlin his beautiful prince, a title he bestowed in jealousy for Merlin's refined features and figure, to mock him for being in a position where he could not refuse Nollar, and also from his lust to touch and fuck someone he could never have gained favor from in everyday life. All the Pretty Things was a place where the rules of attraction, flirting, winning someone over, were irrelevant. For money, you could buy whomever you wanted to fuck. Nollar wanted Merlin, and he wanted him often.

He steeled himself, with the gratifying knowledge that this would be the last time he would have to use his body to satisfy Nollar. He would escape, be his own again, and would never again have to give himself to anyone he hated.

He waited in the room, giving it a cursory clean up, and trying not to feel churned up.
All the Pretty Things was not a brothel where the clients could do whatever they wanted to the prostitute they were seeing, physical violence was not permitted. Nollar had a thing for holding Merlin down, and had once or twice threatened to slap him across the face. He'd never actually made that contact, and Merlin supposed the holding down was partly to be expected as part of the experience. It still made him apprehensive that Nollar seemed to be as turned on by threatening violence, as he was by fucking Merlin.

Nollar did not knock.

"Grunhilda tells me that you're pissing off, and I won't be able to hire your ass after tonight."

Merlin unconsciously backed away.

"She does love to chatter on."

"So, it's true then, this is your last night here?"

Merlin looked him in the eye, and nodded.

"Well, then boy, get the fuck on with getting those pretentious clothes off, and come over here. I'm not paying £500 an hour so that you can mope about and pretend you're too good to suck my cock. You're a useless bitch, and are never going to be anything other than a whore, but you can give me a good send off tonight. I know I'll see you back on the game in six weeks, tops."

Nollar grinned as Merlin undid his shirt, his belt, and took off his clothes, quickly as bidden. He tried to look impassive as Nollar's lecherous gaze raked over him, appraising slowly his pale, lithe body, before resting on his flat stomach, the graceful curve of his hips, and his exposed cock. Merlin could not repress a shiver at being so overtly watched, being required to suppress and ignore his intense desire to hide himself, to make himself private and unattainable.

Nollar's grin widened at his discomfort. "There's my lovely, nude little prince. I'm going to have some fun with you tonight, you're going to be fucked and then some, and you'll be wishing you hadn't been so forthcoming with all your plans, Merlin."

It was best just to go along with it, to try and not give anything away, even though Nollar was relentless with his bullying.

"Come here, boy, and kneel."

Merlin nodded minutely, before crossing the room and kneeling down in front of Nollar.

He deftly undid Nollar's belt, before nuzzling at his still clothed crotch, peering up at him with his most winsome expression, offering his complete physical and emotional submission.

"Keep doing that," he ordered, shoving a hand into Merlin's dark hair.

Merlin complied, rubbing his face across and around, like a kitten stretching out and marking with his scent. If only Nollar would not insist on acting the bully, it wouldn't be so bad, he was handsome in a rugged, burly way.

"You're such a wonderful little slut for me, why do you want to work in some boring, shite job, anyway."

Merlin didn't answer him, unzipping Nollar's fly in the vain hope that sucking his cock would shut him up.

"Such a waste, what are you going to do, you won't even be able to get a job collecting rubbish off the streets, that's my prediction."

Merlin drew out Nollar's erect cock, opening his mouth and lathing it gently, keeping eye contact, willing him to shut his mouth. He pushed his dick further in, and then pulled out, letting Merlin continue to suckle it and roll his tongue repeatedly over the head. Nollar soon was pushing further in, gripping Merlin's hair tightly. Nollar was getting close, and Merlin clung desperately onto his hips, trying to ride out the unpleasantness of being almost choked, breathing when Nollar would momentarily pull out slightly before forcing in again. His taste and scent, fleshy and salty, was overpowering, like a close-up picture which deforms its subject. A few strong thrusts, and thick cum was pulsing into his mouth, which he struggled to swallow, even as it dribbled out the side of his lips.

Merlin gasped as Nollar released his hair, and pulled his spent dick out of Merlin's mouth, but he knew better than to physically move away. Nollar grabbed him by the elbow, however, and dragged him across to the bed, shoving him onto it, before pinning him down with his substantial weight. He was solid, perhaps twice Merlin's weight, maybe more. He was a tank of a man, and Merlin hated being pinned by him, he nearly suffocated him.

"Why don't you let me ride you," he wheezed out.

"Oh, so you want to be in control of these proceedings, little Merlin. Am I making you uncomfortable, little prince?"

Merlin shook his head, "Of course not, I just thought you might enjoy it more if I ride your cock hard." Merlin gave Nollar a suggestive smile, hoping he could seduce him into getting the fuck off him.

Nollar rolled to his side, and Merlin quickly sat up, before leaning over Nollar and pulling at his shirt.

His quirked an eyebrow, "Let's get this thing off, shall we?"

Nollar grinned again as Merlin undid the buttons on his shirt, before wrestling it off his shoulders, and seeing the powerful, brutish body underneath. It was the body of a man who could overpower, and smash, and intimidate without even having to try particularly hard.

"Like seeing what a real man looks like."

Merlin smiled at him. He hated Nollar, he was a shite-talking bully, but he had to find the positive, he had to find the positive to get through this...

"You know you're hot. Think I don't like being reamed by you, you fuck up my arse like no one else, it's like being gored by those fucking bulls in Pamplona."

Nollar laughed snidely, before hauling Merlin on top of him.

"I want to see you ride my cock like you're at a rodeo, cowboy, or I'll tie you up and put you out of your misery, right?"

Merlin shifted on top, rolling a condom on with a speed borne of much practice, slicking him throughly with lube, before inserting Nollar's thick cock into his anal ring, quickly enveloping Nollar and lifting his pelvis up and down rapidly, while Nollar watched him, his fingers spreading over Merlin's hips, grabbing at Merlin's buttocks greedily, like he couldn't get enough of him.

He kept the pace going, building up a fine sheen as he fucked Nollar from on top, desperate to make the man come, so he had no excuse to overstay his time.

"Merlin, Merlin, you're trying to rush this, fretting that this won't be over soon enough."

"No, no, just trying to make it good..."

"Oh, it's good, watching your tummy clench as you fuck me like you're trying to start a fire down there..."

With this, Nollar abruptly pulled out, gripped Merlin's forearms and forced him onto his back, Merlin's cry of protest was silenced by Nollar forcing his tongue into his mouth. He felt like he was being dumped by a huge wave, feeling panic rise but unable to resist the force bearing down on him, almost choking as Nollar churned his tongue inside him, forcing his jaw open so that Merlin had to lie back and submit, feeling engulfed by this man, submerged in the quilting on the mattress, trapped, unable to resist and then Nollar was fucking into him, and had his hands on his throat, bearing his weight down on Merlin's throat, the pressure on his throat was the feeling of death, of his life being wrenched from him, his sight going dark when it suddenly stopped, Nollar collapsing as a great, loathsome dead weight on him.

Merlin lay there under him, too stunned to move for a few moments. When he gingerly tried to move, extricating himself from Nollar, and viewing his body, almost completely still, the sole movement was his breathing. He was bleeding heavily from the side of his head, where a crystal decanter, which had been on the dressing table, had somehow flown across the room and smashed into Nollar's skull, leaving a jigsaw of abrasions.

Merlin quickly grabbed his own shirt, and tried desperately to staunch the blood flow.

"Gwaine," he screamed, "Gwaine, anyone, help me, help me, he's dying, Gwaine..."

Gwaine burst into the room, stark naked, looking wildly at Merlin, and seeing Nollar on the bed bleeding.

"Fuck's sake, Merlin, what have you done to the bastard, what'd yer smash him over the scone for?"

"I didn't, I didn't, I don't know, how it happened, I don't know..."

Gwaine called for a ambulance direct from the room, giving the address and advising the operator that it was an emergency.

It was 6:45 am and Arthur was sitting at the breakfast bar, muesli being scraped out of the bowl, cup of tea rapidly cooling as he hurried to finish, needing to get into his campaign office early. Gwen ambled in, yawning, before she dropped their delivered The Guardian
newspaper on the bench. Arthur read rapidly, trying to skim over all the articles covering the election, curious to see if there was any progress in polls. The UK seemed to be in a quandary, there were no clear trends in favor of the Conservative Party, or showing that The Labour Party were going to be decisively defeated.

Arthur sighed, it almost seemed as if they were all performing a pantomime, where the conclusion was looming, but the playwright forgot to write the final scenes. The election on May 6 was drawing near, and the malaise among the voters was palpable, every commentator was drawing similar conclusions. The people of Great Britain were so disaffected, they had no great desire to vote for either of the main parties. The Liberal Democrats could end up winning enough seats to make it impossible for either of the main parties to form a majority in their own right. Indecision would lead to the decision possibly being taken out of the control of voters, and delivered to a party which did not have sufficient support to validly take control itself.

Arthur had scanned through the first few pages, his eye caught by a medium sized picture in the corner of page seven. Arthur snatched the paper up in his hand, and looked in shock at a picture of Merlin, seemingly being frogmarched out of the brothel by two tall police officers. His eyes swam as he took in the image, questions flashing in his mind like blown lightbulbs, was Merlin being arrested, what had he done, was Arthur going to be implicated somehow in this, was Merlin going to be put in jail, if Merlin was jailed...Arthur read the paragraphs desperately, that a young sex worker, Merlin Emrys, nineteen, had been arrested, on suspicion of attempted murder, after his client, Gerard Nollar, had been found in Emrys's room, bleeding from wounds inflicted with a crystal decanter found at the scene.

Arthur gaped, he knew, he just knew, Merlin would never attack a client for any reason, other than to defend himself. Perhaps he would be capable of defending himself in a situation of facing extreme aggression, but why would he deliberately target his own client, unless the client had been instigating the violence. Reading further, the article informed that the victim, Gerard Nollar, had not yet been questioned by the police.

Gwen caught sight of Arthur's pallid, worried face and came to Arthur's side.

"Arthur, you look devastated, what's in that paper."

Gwen's gaze fell on the picture of Merlin, and Arthur's gaze flickered away, he could not meet it in that moment, the moment she saw, though she did not realize it, the face of the man who had imprinted himself into Arthur's mind and soul.

"It's a terrible story, this young prostitute being arrested for attempted murder, I mean, when you think about it, how likely is it that this was an attack this young man instigated."

"Okay, but why are you so upset? I mean, you don't actually know him, and surely if he is innocent, the police will be able to get his side of the story."

Arthur felt his pulse throb in his throat, the spit pooling in the back of his mouth as he struggled to swallow, to find his voice again and speak.

"Gw...ergh," he uttered, before clearing his throat, feeling like a serrated blade was cutting him from the inside out. "Gwen, I know that...man."

Gwen's mouth fell open, like a mute fish gasping in the air, begging to be thrown back into it's natural environment, and not be suffocated in a new world.

Arthur looked at her, at his wife, who he loved. He loved her, and it was not enough to change anything.

"Gwen, I know Merlin Emrys. The young man who is in that story. I have to help him."

"H-how, do you know him, Arthur?" Gwen pleaded, her eyes desperate with fear.

He had to say it. She knew, in her heart, she knew, but Arthur had to speak, and confirm a devastating truth she would never have even imagined was a real part of their lives.

"I was his client. I slept with him."

"No," Gwen wailed, sobbing in earnest now, "That can't be true, Arthur, why would you do that to me?"

"Gwen, I didn't mean for it to happen..."

"How the FUCK do you not mean to fuck a filthy whore, Arthur? Did he fall on your dick? Were you drugged, and woke up with him begging you for it? 'Cos I don't think that's how it went down. I want to know, when? When did you do this? Was it while I was visiting my friends, you bastard?"

"That was the second time."

Gwen moaned, holding her arms across her body like it would hold her world together. Arthur stood stupidly, wanting to comfort her, knowing that he could not offer it, because right now, he was her pain.

"Gwen, I'm sorry..."

"You're sorry? Sorry for fucking around behind my back? With a prostitute, a damn prostitute, am I worth so little to you that you'll trash everything, our marriage, for the sake of a teenage boy who'll fuck ANYONE for MONEY your stupid fuckwitted arse. He's not in love with you, Arthur, you don't need to go and rescue him, he's got his money, and that's all you've ever been to him."

Arthur shook his head, "I know, it sounds crazy, but he needs help, and I'm going to help him. Even if I mean nothing to him. Because he needs help, Gwen. I was wrong to lie to you Gwen. I was wrong to cheat on you. But I can't just pretend he doesn't exist, that I can just watch him end up in jail." Arthur choked on the last word.

"Arthur, this doesn't have to be the end for us," Gwen implored, "It doesn't Arthur. We can get counseling, we can work through this, but you can't go to this boy, Arthur, you have to let him fix up his own mess, and maybe we can fix the mess we're in."

"Gwen. I can't just let him go..."

"Fuck Arthur, is he really that good in bed? Seriously? You're going to throw back in my face my offer to work through this, you're going to ruin any chance you have in this campaign, and in any campaign ever again, you will be tainted for the rest of your life, no one in the Conservative Party will want to know you, will want to be associated with you..."

"Gwen, I will not let Merlin rot in jail. I've betrayed you, but I can't change that, I can't lie to you and act like I can just stand back and let whatever happens to Merlin, just happen. He needs my help, Gwen."

Gwen stepped back. Shaking her head, "I'm going to stay with Elyan. Don't call me."

The bed in the holding cell was hard, unyielding. He was tired, so tired, but too anxious and wound up to sleep. He laid on the mattress, every tortured thought in his mind returning to the events of the previous few hours. Those minutes with Nollar had been the worst of his entire life. Nollar had been trying to kill him, Merlin was in no doubt that he would have kept wringing Merlin's throat until he blacked out, until his breathing stopped and he went limp. In the midst of terror, of helplessness, of mortality, the decanter had flown through the air like some expensive special effect, and had connected with a sickening dull thud, the force so violent it smashed the decanter and proved that Nollar's head, for all his seeming hard and invincible, was just flesh and breakable bone after all.

Merlin could not help but see that moment in replay in his mind. He had never seen physical violence so closely before. He wished the moment undone, but there had been no escape, if it had not happened, he would be dead. What had happened? How had that decanter flown across the room. Merlin was frightened to admit it, but it seemed to him that somehow, his distress had made him able to control it, move it. It went against logic, definitely, but somehow, in the deepest part of his soul, he knew that he had done it.

Unfortunately, this would not bode well for his claim for self-defence. If he were to claim to the police that he escaped momentarily, and grasped the decanter before throwing it at Nollar, perhaps it would be expected that he should have tried to escape, rather than using force to defend himself. On the other hand, if he told the police that the decanter moved because he used his mind to control it, that would possibly lead to Merlin being assessed to see if he was mentally fit and able to be tried. Would that lead to the to the disastrous possibility of being imprisoned in a psychiatric facility?

Merlin had made contact with an old family friend, Gaius Phillipson, a well respected barrister, well versed in the intricacies of criminal law and procedure. Merlin was waiting for Gaius to arrive, so that he could have a legal representative present when he was formally questioned. When he finally heard a knock on his cell door, he assumed that Gaius had finally arrived, having had to drive from two and a half hours away.

Merlin was handcuffed by a sergeant, and led to a small room where he would see Gaius. Merlin gasped when the person who entered the room in the company of a constable was Arthur Pendragon. Where Merlin was disheveled, pale, listless and frightened, Arthur was tidy, grim, but resolute.

"Arthur," Merlin croaked.

"You were in this morning's newspapers, I read the details about what allegedly transpired with Nollar. Do you have a solicitor?" Arthur queried.

"I'm waiting for Gaius Phillipson to arrive. He knows my mother, he's a barrister."

"You'll need a solicitor as well. I'm going to call Lance, he can be here nearly immediately, if he knows you're about to be questioned..."

"Arthur, what are you doing here? This is going to get out, and then people will be asking very pointed questions about why Arthur Pendragon has been seen assisting me. A known prostitute." Merlin's face crumpled at the last words, the realization that his life as a prostitute would now become public knowledge sinking in.

Arthur wanted more than anything, to reach and hold onto him, to comfort him. However, in this room with surveillance, he could not touch Merlin. He would have to reach out to him with words, with action that would rescue him from the quicksand he was in.

"I'm not going to let you face this alone, Merlin. I know I have not known you for long, but I can't possibly believe you would have attacked this man, your own client, unless you had a justification for doing so."

"But, why, Arthur, I can see that you want to help me, but I can get help, and why would ruining you, ruining your life, be any help to me?" His eyes glittered with unshed tears, his mouth a wretched line as he held his emotions in, desperate to not seem weak.

"Not helping you, when you need it so much, would ruin me more than any newspaper story, or any scandal. I know my reputation will probably become shrapnel after a bomb blast, I know that, but, you matter to me, and I'm not going to just watch you go down, while I stand by, high and lofty and in power, and wretched for knowing I could have helped you, and didn't because I was afraid for my reputation."

Merlin could not seem to help it now, tears were etching down his cheeks, replenishing faster than he could wipe them fiercely away.

"You can't care about me, Arthur. You hardly know me, and you're married, and I can't handle having you here, then not again. I'm not robust, I can't bounce back when you realise you've been a fool and run back to your real life, your wife and career. Please, I'm begging you, go back while you can, I will get through this on my own, my mother will help me, Gaius will help me..."

Arthur held onto his own hands, in lieu of Merlin's. How could he convince this man that he cared enough that he would willingly discard his position as a candidate if that was what it took. That he cared enough to leave his loving, dutiful relationship with Gwen, which had been his safety blanket. He had never recognized this until now, that Gwen was never a threat to breaking his heart, because while he loved her, her caring nature, her solicitousness, he had never been passionately in love with her. He was in love with this boy, whose stupid life was messed up by mistakes, by taking the wrong path. Sometimes, though, the wrong path was when you did things just because they were there to be done, because the path had been already paved for you, because it made sense to everyone. Arthur had to find what was truly important, and not just regurgitate the received wisdom.

"Merlin, I know this must seem, out of left field to you, me wanting to help you. You're right, I hardly know you. But I know you enough to know I never want to let you go again. I'm not here to break your heart, I'm here to do whatever it takes to get you your freedom. What you want to do when you are free is your choice, but I've made mine. I won't sacrifice you for the sake of my...respectability."

Merlin studied the floor intently, his expression twitching with unspoken thoughts. "You don't owe me anything. You would be sacrificing your life, your dreams, aspirations, everything good you can do, everything you can achieve for others, throwing it all away, and when you don't owe this to me, Arthur. You are not responsible for what happens to me. It's not your fault. I can't let you destroy the destiny you are building, for you, and for this country, and for what? I don't need your help, Arthur. Please, go to your wife, explain it was all a mistake..."

"No," Arthur yelped. "No. You are not a mistake. It's crap I know, I still love Gwen, but fuck, I think you might be the one I should have been with all along." Arthur hated having to choose, but if it came to it, he was here, in this police station, not at home with Gwen. He hated that his marriage might fail because of this, hated even more that he would hurt Gwen, who had never hurt him. Arthur knew it was a mess, and was probably going to turn into a complete circus before it was over, but somehow, it would be worse, to go back, to be a pretender.

"You want to be with me?" Merlin uttered warily.

Arthur held Merlin's gaze. "Yes. Somehow, you are good for me. If we ever get out of this fix, I'd be crazy to let you go and be all kinds of wonderful in someone else's life."

Merlin laughed out loud at that. "Yeah, this is a whole lot of marvelous stuff going on here, why would you want to miss out on that, Arthur "has his whole life ahead of him" Pendragon?"

"Yeah, and I want you to be the other half of me for the rest of it." Arthur said quickly, only realizing what he had said, the implications, when it was out. "I mean it, Merlin. Don't think you can shake me off by selling yourself as some underachiever. You're so young, you've got time to get off the path, and I want to be there for you while you do it."

The constable who had brought Arthur in, indicated that Gaius had arrived. Arthur would be required to leave, so that Merlin could give his instructions to Gaius.

"I'll leave you to see Gaius. I'm contacting Lance Du Lac, he'll be required to brief your barrister."

Merlin looked up at him, face framed by slouched shoulders.

"Thank you. I'm sure your friend is going to be a great help. I'm grateful for you coming down to see me."

"Okay. It's okay, Merlin, I want to help."

With that, Arthur was firmly escorted away, taking one last look as he left, Merlin meeting his gaze with a look of resigned despair.