Loyalty Comes at a Price - Merlin - Arthur/Mordred
Title: Loyalty Comes at a Price
Pairing: Arthur/teenage!Mordred
Word Count: 763
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Written for babydracky. Future!fic.
Summary: If Mordred is to stay at Arthur's side, Arthur knows that he will need an incentive.
The responsibility makes his hands shake.
Merlin has loyalty for loyalty's sake, yet Arthur knows that Mordred is different. If Mordred is to stay on their side, he needs an incentive.
Arthur has seen the way that Mordred looks at Merlin. Mordred had left Camelot as a scared child, but he has returned as an impulsive teenager who is used to being special, who is used to getting his own way. He looks at Merlin like a spoiled brat looks at a forbidden toy: it is hungry, it is possessive, and it is something that Arthur will not allow. Merlin needs his mind to stay clear, and Arthur cannot afford to have the two greatest magical forces in his kingdom to unite in that way.
He takes matters into his own hands: he takes Mordred into his own bed.
Mordred has all the eagerness of youth but all the arrogance of power. Arthur is undressed and on his back in a whirlwind hurry, Mordred's fingers deep inside of him.
"I know why you're doing this," Mordred says, looking down at him with wide, all-seeing eyes.
Arthur looks up at him; his own expression is guarded. He tries as hard as he can to trust magic and its users, but aside from Merlin he finds it difficult. An upbringing-worth of lessons is difficult to forget.
"Do you really?" he asks.
Mordred's fingers curl and stretch wickedly inside of him. He is only seventeen, but he's done this before. That much is clear.
"You think I'm here to take him from you," Mordred says. He pulls free from Arthur and with a twirl of his hand turns him around onto his hands and knees. He uses his magic far too casually; Merlin always tells him off because of it. With Arthur's heart racing, he wishes he would take those lessons to heart. "Emrys."
"For a start, that's not his name," Arthur says, though he can already anticipate what Mordred's answer to that will be.
"He has many names."
"But he goes by Merlin." If he thought that Mordred had any respect for his authority he would order him to call Merlin that, but he knows that Mordred is even worse than Merlin when it comes to following orders he doesn't like. "And, secondly, I have no worries about you and him. He is loyal to me."
Mordred positions his slick cock by Arthur's ass, and pushes smoothly inside with no hesitation and no warning. Staring down at the mattress, Arthur's fingers clench into fists around the bedsheet: he's never done this before. There has never been any reason to do so.
"I would have taken him away from you already, if I could," Mordred says when he's as deep as he can get. His hands clutch at Arthur's hips, pale and strong. "That's why I came back."
And that confession needs to be dealt with, needs to have reprecussions. He needs to punish Mordred for trying to steal what can never be is and for trying to bring down the kingdom while doing so. Yet Mordred rocks in and out and it's hard to breathe, hard to think. All he can focus on is the sensations that Mordred is shooting through him. It's too intense and too much; he knows if he were to look over his shoulder he would find that Mordred's blue eyes had turned gold.
"But his destiny lies with you, and mine with him," Mordred says. He reaches around Arthur's body to take his cock in his hand, jerking him in time with how he moves. Mordred's words are stained with heavy panting, but he still sounds remarkably in control. "My path, therefore, lies with you."
He sounds resentful, but with the beautiful, perfect way that Arthur feels right now he doesn't care, he can't care. He should be frightened and terrified. He should reach for his sword.
Mordred comes before he does with all the haste of youth, his hips flush against Arthur's ass. His hand continues to stroke at Arthur's dick, until Arthur's arms begin to tremble as he tries to keep himself upright. Mordred rocks once more, his cock beginning to soften, and Arthur finally falls over the edge, giving all that he has.
Mordred's hand stroke over his skin before the teen pulls away from him, bored already. "As long as he is at your side, you have nothing to fear from me," Mordred tells him.
Arthur swallows as he tries to catch his breath. He knows that Mordred's words ought to be reassuring - but he can't hear them as anything less than a threat.
Pairing: Arthur/teenage!Mordred
Word Count: 763
Rating: NC-17
A/N: Written for babydracky. Future!fic.
Summary: If Mordred is to stay at Arthur's side, Arthur knows that he will need an incentive.
The responsibility makes his hands shake.
Merlin has loyalty for loyalty's sake, yet Arthur knows that Mordred is different. If Mordred is to stay on their side, he needs an incentive.
Arthur has seen the way that Mordred looks at Merlin. Mordred had left Camelot as a scared child, but he has returned as an impulsive teenager who is used to being special, who is used to getting his own way. He looks at Merlin like a spoiled brat looks at a forbidden toy: it is hungry, it is possessive, and it is something that Arthur will not allow. Merlin needs his mind to stay clear, and Arthur cannot afford to have the two greatest magical forces in his kingdom to unite in that way.
He takes matters into his own hands: he takes Mordred into his own bed.
Mordred has all the eagerness of youth but all the arrogance of power. Arthur is undressed and on his back in a whirlwind hurry, Mordred's fingers deep inside of him.
"I know why you're doing this," Mordred says, looking down at him with wide, all-seeing eyes.
Arthur looks up at him; his own expression is guarded. He tries as hard as he can to trust magic and its users, but aside from Merlin he finds it difficult. An upbringing-worth of lessons is difficult to forget.
"Do you really?" he asks.
Mordred's fingers curl and stretch wickedly inside of him. He is only seventeen, but he's done this before. That much is clear.
"You think I'm here to take him from you," Mordred says. He pulls free from Arthur and with a twirl of his hand turns him around onto his hands and knees. He uses his magic far too casually; Merlin always tells him off because of it. With Arthur's heart racing, he wishes he would take those lessons to heart. "Emrys."
"For a start, that's not his name," Arthur says, though he can already anticipate what Mordred's answer to that will be.
"He has many names."
"But he goes by Merlin." If he thought that Mordred had any respect for his authority he would order him to call Merlin that, but he knows that Mordred is even worse than Merlin when it comes to following orders he doesn't like. "And, secondly, I have no worries about you and him. He is loyal to me."
Mordred positions his slick cock by Arthur's ass, and pushes smoothly inside with no hesitation and no warning. Staring down at the mattress, Arthur's fingers clench into fists around the bedsheet: he's never done this before. There has never been any reason to do so.
"I would have taken him away from you already, if I could," Mordred says when he's as deep as he can get. His hands clutch at Arthur's hips, pale and strong. "That's why I came back."
And that confession needs to be dealt with, needs to have reprecussions. He needs to punish Mordred for trying to steal what can never be is and for trying to bring down the kingdom while doing so. Yet Mordred rocks in and out and it's hard to breathe, hard to think. All he can focus on is the sensations that Mordred is shooting through him. It's too intense and too much; he knows if he were to look over his shoulder he would find that Mordred's blue eyes had turned gold.
"But his destiny lies with you, and mine with him," Mordred says. He reaches around Arthur's body to take his cock in his hand, jerking him in time with how he moves. Mordred's words are stained with heavy panting, but he still sounds remarkably in control. "My path, therefore, lies with you."
He sounds resentful, but with the beautiful, perfect way that Arthur feels right now he doesn't care, he can't care. He should be frightened and terrified. He should reach for his sword.
Mordred comes before he does with all the haste of youth, his hips flush against Arthur's ass. His hand continues to stroke at Arthur's dick, until Arthur's arms begin to tremble as he tries to keep himself upright. Mordred rocks once more, his cock beginning to soften, and Arthur finally falls over the edge, giving all that he has.
Mordred's hand stroke over his skin before the teen pulls away from him, bored already. "As long as he is at your side, you have nothing to fear from me," Mordred tells him.
Arthur swallows as he tries to catch his breath. He knows that Mordred's words ought to be reassuring - but he can't hear them as anything less than a threat.