Kink Me! #5
Kink Me! #5 Closed to new prompts Welcome to Kink Me! Merlin #5!
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But Merlin didn’t get a chance to speak with Gwen again; shortly afterwards the Prince (after a severe-looking aside from his father) announced he would retire. His servant followed after him without a thought. He trailed the Prince all the way back to his chambers, at which point the Prince shrugged off all Merlin’s attempts to help him undress.
“Get off, get out-” he grumbled, leaning unsteadily against a chair as he tried to tug off one boot.
“Sire, let me help you with that. If you’d please, sire, just sit down-”
“Stop saying that,” the Prince demanded.
Merlin didn’t wince, schooling his face against the reprimand. “Stop saying what, sire?”
The Prince just cut him another glare. “Whatever you may think, this isn’t funny. Your insolence for… not being insolent, or whatever, I won’t have it. You’re mocking me isn’t… it isn’t…”
“I would never mock you, sire,” Merlin said solemnly. Yet for all his earnestness he only received an unimpressed snort in response.
“Stop calling m’that,” the Prince said, his words slurring a bit in his ire. “Sire,” the Prince added after Merlin bit his lip in confusion; but even as he heard the title, the command, the servant in him rejected the notion entirely. His eyes darted sideways and he shifted awkwardly.
“God,” the Prince continued, shoulders slumping. “I’d never thought I’d ever say that. I thought… Why d’you… always make me…” he trailed off, not seeming to know how to carry on.
“I’d never make you do anything, sire.” Merlin’s response was again in all seriousness, but it only seemed to cause the Prince more distress. His face screwed up into something almost like a pout, something Arthur would never admit to when sober, but if Merlin could have his way he’d tease… he’d… he’d never mention it again, so as to not cause the Prince any embarrassment. “Shall I help you into bed?”
“Do what y’must,” the Prince sighed, his tone sad and resigned. Merlin worried but was very careful not to show it, his face a mask of impassivity, and only hoped the Prince would feel better in the morning.
“Goodnight, sire,” he finally said, once his duty was done and he was bowing out of the room. The Prince was still awake, eyes glassy and staring sightlessly at the ceiling, but he didn’t bother to reply.
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The angst is delightful, dear anon!!
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