Melancholy
Title: Melancholy
Rating: PG-13?
Summary: It was beyond risky, this thing that lay between them, and Arthur knew it as well as he knew the weight of a sword in his hand.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
AN: Little drabble type thing.
It was beyond risky, this thing that lay between them, and Arthur knew it as well as he knew the weight of a sword in his hand. It had settled over them in stages, slowly crept upon them in till one day it was an overwhelming certainty, one that Arthur could scarcely believe he hadn’t seen coming.
It was easy to pretend that Merlin meant nothing to him at first, just another servant to relieve his tensions with, but that had all changed remarkably fast.
He was beautiful, in every way Arthur would never be. With all the grace of a baby colt, he still managed to carry his willowy frame with a strength Arthur marvelled at.
Merlin was a virgin the first night Arthur had taken him to his bed, inexperienced in his need, and Arthur had felt the first swell of protectiveness sweep over him even then.
He had wanted to own every last part of Merlin, claim every inch for himself.
It was in every strained silence that settled between them, and in every heated look Merlin delivered from beneath dark lashes; a slow burning ache that neither could escape from even if they had the power to.
He envied Merlin for his freedom, how easily he could offer his love to Arthur, voice the words that Arthur himself could never say out loud, the weight of a kingdom and the knowledge of his future duties pushing down heavily upon his shoulders.
It cut through him more than any blade ever could. It would wear him down in till he’d break, pour everything he had into the kisses they shared in the dark, mouth them silently against the flushed skin of Merlin’s neck.
Arthur would look at the other boy with such emotion, it was surprising that his heart didn’t burst straight from his chest.
Their partings were always the hardest, watching as Merlin gathered his discarded clothing to himself every morning, the sun not yet having fully risen in the sky. A lingering kiss with a promise of something more as he slipped from Arthur’s arms.
Arthur hated having to pretend even more than he hated to see Merlin leave his bed. The long day’s dragging out before them, their teasing banter an act for all to see.
It wasn’t enough and would never be enough. They would always have to hide behind fully constructed facades and stolen moments which were few and far between.
It wasn’t enough, but it was all they could ever have.
Rating: PG-13?
Summary: It was beyond risky, this thing that lay between them, and Arthur knew it as well as he knew the weight of a sword in his hand.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
AN: Little drabble type thing.
It was beyond risky, this thing that lay between them, and Arthur knew it as well as he knew the weight of a sword in his hand. It had settled over them in stages, slowly crept upon them in till one day it was an overwhelming certainty, one that Arthur could scarcely believe he hadn’t seen coming.
It was easy to pretend that Merlin meant nothing to him at first, just another servant to relieve his tensions with, but that had all changed remarkably fast.
He was beautiful, in every way Arthur would never be. With all the grace of a baby colt, he still managed to carry his willowy frame with a strength Arthur marvelled at.
Merlin was a virgin the first night Arthur had taken him to his bed, inexperienced in his need, and Arthur had felt the first swell of protectiveness sweep over him even then.
He had wanted to own every last part of Merlin, claim every inch for himself.
It was in every strained silence that settled between them, and in every heated look Merlin delivered from beneath dark lashes; a slow burning ache that neither could escape from even if they had the power to.
He envied Merlin for his freedom, how easily he could offer his love to Arthur, voice the words that Arthur himself could never say out loud, the weight of a kingdom and the knowledge of his future duties pushing down heavily upon his shoulders.
It cut through him more than any blade ever could. It would wear him down in till he’d break, pour everything he had into the kisses they shared in the dark, mouth them silently against the flushed skin of Merlin’s neck.
Arthur would look at the other boy with such emotion, it was surprising that his heart didn’t burst straight from his chest.
Their partings were always the hardest, watching as Merlin gathered his discarded clothing to himself every morning, the sun not yet having fully risen in the sky. A lingering kiss with a promise of something more as he slipped from Arthur’s arms.
Arthur hated having to pretend even more than he hated to see Merlin leave his bed. The long day’s dragging out before them, their teasing banter an act for all to see.
It wasn’t enough and would never be enough. They would always have to hide behind fully constructed facades and stolen moments which were few and far between.
It wasn’t enough, but it was all they could ever have.