Kink Me! #9
Kink Me! #9
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Welcome to Kink Me! Merlin #9!
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Closed to new prompts - go to the newest meme!
Welcome to Kink Me! Merlin #9!
Read the rules before you post anything. We freeze or screen anything that breaks the rules! Got a question? Ask the mods!
So you want to post a fill?
Your attention to detail helps make our archiving possible, and also tells us you've read the rules.
- Click ( Read more... )
It wasn’t like he did it often, or courted men, it was just when he couldn’t stand doing it himself any longer, when he needed the feel of someone else, when he could no longer distract himself with his reading or his training.
“Move! Pay attention, Arthur!” Kay shouted across the courtyard. Arthur rubbed his shoulder where the blunt training blade had struck him hard. “Come on, you’re a Pendragon, you can do better than that!” Kay stepped forward, motioning for Lancelot to come at him instead of Arthur, and easily knocked away the sword.
He should feel embarrassed, infuriated, that Kay had Pendragon blood evident in everything he did, but no Pendragon name, and Arthur had the opposite. All he felt was sick. There was no honor in being a trueborn Pendragon.
“Lancelot, move your feet, lad!” Kay instructed, forcing the young knight to join him in a sort of dance. “I can’t beat you if I can’t hit you. Make yourself a moving target.” Lancelot overcompensated and danced about too much, leaving his blows wide and wild, and Kay easily disarmed him, putting him on his back. Lancelot took the hand Kay offered him and was hauled to his feet. “That was good, Lancelot, very good, you’re learning. Now,” Kay turned to Arthur, “you. Keep your head on your shoulders or someday some swordsman will steal it away for good. And where then do you suggest we put the crown?” There was some scattered laughter.
Arthur smiled. “I could tell you where to put it, but I must maintain the illusion of dignity.”
Kay laughed outright at that. “Perhaps you’d rather a jester’s hat than a crown?”
Arthur shrugged. “They do say only princes and fools may say what they please.”
Arthur did love his brother. Kay had taught him nearly everything Arthur knew. He’d been very nearly a father to him, in the wake of Uther’s disinterest. Kay was a better man than he’d ever be.
“There, see? There, plant your foot or you’ll twist it.”
Arthur did so and suddenly Kay’s sword was twisted out of his hands and plucked from the air by Arthur’s.
The older knight held his hands up in surrender. “I yield, my lord. The field is yours.”
Kay nodded at the others. “Well done today, lads.”
As the rest of them trudged off to put away armor and swords, Kay turned back to Arthur, who frowned at him and said, “You could have had me a dozen times.”
“You’ll learn little from the flat of your back.” He chuckled. “Well, little that will help you on the field.”
“You put Lancelot on his back a hundred times a day.”
“Well he must be prettier than you.”
“Kay, be serious.” Arthur shoved the stolen training blade back into Kay’s hands. “And be honest; you wouldn’t risk harming me.”
“If I thought it would help you learn, I would,” said Kay. “I treat Lancelot differently because he is different. And he’s not different from you because you’re a prince and he’s not, he’s different from you because he is Lancelot and you are Arthur. Two different people, two different students, so I must be two different teachers.” Kay gripped his shoulder. “Don’t doubt yourself, Arthur. I’m not letting you off easy, trust me, every honour you’ve claimed you’ve earned.”
“You should be first knight,” Arthur half-mumbled.
Kay shook his head. “I am what I am. You, Arthur, you have the potential to be so much more than you are now, and if I were first knight, I couldn’t teach you like I can this way. All is as it should be.” With a reassuring shake to his half-brother’s shoulder, the knight left, accosted by visiting knights who’d been observing the training as he headed towards the armory.
One of the younger of them glanced over and caught Arthur’s eye.
It wasn’t like he did this often. Only when he needed that release to the point of desperation. When he was half-mad from the stress of his life, when he was starved for another’s touch. When someone conveniently transient was available.
It was rushed and hushed and in a deserted corner of the stables, just the boy’s mouth on him. Shortly after, in his chambers, Arthur sat in the metal tub, full of lovely hot water, and he felt the delicious lack of that tension in his neck. But he knew it would be back soon.
“Fuck,” he groaned, sliding beneath the water.
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*tracking too*
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I'm looking forward to reading more, anon!
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Starting with the warnings now because verrrry shortly we will be entering reader-may-question-the-innocence-and-morality-of-the-author territory. ;D
Warnings: Prostitution, dub-con, collar, uh...Morgana’s obliviousness...Uther's a whore...?
Part 2a/?
It wasn’t often that Uther asked to see him, and when he did, it was only to ask about Arthur.
Kay was of the opinion that if the King wanted to take an interest in Arthur’s well-being he should perhaps speak to the prince every so often. One would think he’d show some sort of obligated affection for his one trueborn son.
He paused before the doors to the King’s chambers, knocked, and was called in by Uther.
“You asked for me, sire?” asked Kay, dipping his head respectfully.
“I did,” said Uther, not elaborating. He was pouring over some documents at the table, brow furrowed. “Please, sit.”
“I take it this is about Arthur, my lord?”
“Not exactly,” was the unexpected reply. “Not yet, in any case.”
Kay was taken aback. If Uther wanted to talk to him, but not about Arthur, then this couldn’t be good. The last time such a thing had happened, Bayard had been pushing the limits of his borders in a decidedly antagonistic way.
“An unexpected guest will be arriving shortly,” said Uther, setting aside the papers to look at Kay. “An emissary of Cenred’s.”
Kay stiffened. The peace between Camelot and Cenred was tense, to say the least. Really, it was just a lack of motive on Cenred’s part that kept them from war. Sending an ambassador in honour of Arthur’s birthday was a mocking show of respect. Cenred loved to mock them, and did it as often as he dared.
“Who does he send this time?” asked Kay. Their security precautions would depend on this.
“One of the sorceresses, I believe.” Uther leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “We’ll need to take the appropriate safety measures for Arthur. I’d rather him left unaware of it, however.”
“Arthur’s too clever to miss anything like that, my lord.” They’d tried things like this before, even conning Arthur’s closest friends into taking on such duties, and he saw right through them every time. “I’ll think of something. How much time do we have?”
“Perhaps until his birthday, perhaps a bit sooner.”
“I’ll waste no time, then,” said Kay, standing. “By your leave, my lord.”
“Yes, you may go,” Uther said, waving him away. “Oh, and Kay-” The young captain paused at the door. “Send Mordred away. No need for unnecessary risks.” Kay nodded, and left. He was a good man, a good knight. He’d keep Arthur safe. Uther sometimes thought that if Kay couldn’t inherit the throne, perhaps it would suffice for him to tutor the son who would.
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Part 2b/?
Kay ran into Morgana in the corridor.
He paused to allow her past, and fell in step next to her. “Afternoon.”
“It is.” She smiled, but looked slightly frazzled. “What did you get Arthur for his birthday? I’m having the damnedest time finding something.”
“I commissioned Tom the blacksmith to make him a new sword,” he told her. “Worthy of a king.”
Morgana swore. “That’s good! He’ll love that!”
Kay laughed. “It can’t possibly be that difficult!”
Morgana wrung her hands. “It just needs to be perfect.”
“I’d settle for peaceful.”
“What?”
“Ah-” There was a good chance he shouldn’t have said that. Luckily, it was Morgana, always trustworthy with a secret. “We have an unexpected security hurdle to jump.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Cenred’s sending one of the sorceresses,” Kay told her, leaning in close. “Arthur won’t be pleased with extra precautions. If I could just find a sorcerer willing to guard him-but Uther’s so uneasy around magic, they avoid Camelot altogether as a general rule.”
Morgana bit her lip. This wasn’t the first time Arthur had been in potential danger, but it was never easy. Her mother was dead, Uther was distant…her brothers and Gwen were all she had.
“If there’s anything I can do to help…”
Kay smiled. “I doubt it, but I’ll let you know. Oh, and as for the gift-love, whatever you get him, I am sure it will be perfect. You have excellent taste.” He kissed her forehead and they parted ways; he headed down the south corridor, and, after a moment, she took the north.
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Warnings: Prostitution, dub-con, collar, uh...Morgana’s obliviousness...Uther's a whore...?
Part 2c/?
Morgana sat at her window, perched in the seat, brow furrowed, a forgotten book of poetry in her lap. From there she could watch the hustle and bustle of the stone courtyard below. The city was a madhouse, with merchants and traders and performers of all sorts congregating to play off the hype of Arthur’s birthday.
She saw a noblewoman sifting through silk scarves a merchant was selling, and a group of young girls cooing over some kittens for sale. There were even stranger things for sale as well, she’d heard, in the marketplace in the lower town; dragon eggs hardened into beautiful stone from the coast, and mirrors from Mercia that supposedly told the future if you held them at the right angle, and puppets from the north that would come alive and dance if you played them the right tune.
Other things-items so taboo one simply couldn’t speak of them in polite company-were available for the right price, the gossipers had told her. Dolls that held a person’s very life in their cloth, and amulets, and even-
“That’s it!” she yelped suddenly, scaring Gwen half to death.
“M-my lady?” asked Gwen, clutching the vase full of flowers she’d nearly dropped, she’d started so horribly.
“I’ve got it, Gwen, I’ve got it!” said Morgana excitedly, grabbing a purse of coins and a light cloak.
“Got what? Morgana, where are you going? The feast starts in an hour!”
“Just get my clothes ready, I’ll toss them on when I get back-Gwen, I’ve got it!”
“Got what?!”
Morgana spun in the doorway to face her handmaiden. “The perfect present for Arthur!” And she was gone.
“Well,” Gwen said to herself as she went to the wardrobe to find a suitable gown for the banquet, “I hope he likes it.”
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It's all making for a fascinating, different court.
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Anyway, great job, anon! Can't wait for more~ (Today...?) ♥
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Part 3a/?
Arthur had prepared for dinner with no enthusiasm whatsoever. He was so sick of banquets. Thank god it was nearly over. Life would soon return to normal, and he could stop being so moody all the time. It wasn’t as though he ever really stopped worrying about Uther’s activities, but whenever he was recognized as Uther’s child when there were so many others that were not, the guilt and resentment brought out the worst in him.
Morgana, on the other hand was at her best. She was the very life and joy of the place, in her deep green gown, with emerald flowers in her hair and that brilliant smile on her face the entire time. One would have thought it was for her sake they were all celebrating, not Arthur, blandly dressed in his red jacket and everyday brown breeches.
At one point, after letting it go for hours, Arthur tugged her goblet out of her hands and stole a small taste of it, prompting an “Arthur, what are you doing?”
“Is there ale in this? You know what you’re like.”
“Well if I didn’t who would?” she snapped, but she couldn’t stay mad at him. “No, there is no ale in it.”
“Then what is wrong with you?”
“Wrong? I’m trying to be cheerful enough for the both of us, Arthur, what’s wrong with you?” She shook her head-clearly, he was a hopeless case. “Fine, fine-are you ready to slip away?”
He opened his mouth to respond in the resounding affirmative, then shut it, suspicious. “Why?” Morgana always disapproved of his ducking out early, even if it was only by an hour or so.
“Because I want to give you your present; I really can’t wait to see your face.” She pouted at him. “Please, Arthur? Come on, practically everyone’s gone or passed out, no one will notice.”
Glad that he could blame her in the unlikely situation that Uther confronted him for skiving off the last few hours, he glanced about to check that the coast was as clear as it would get. Uther had disappeared hours ago with not one but two serving girls. Arthur cringed at the thought. “All right, let’s go.”
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