FIC: The Heat
Title: The Heat
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Merthur, Arwen
Summary: Merlin keeps Arthur from turning dark.
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Voyeurism, hand jobs, open marriage. Heavy themes and mentions of murder, rape and violence (background characters).
A/N: Written for kinkalot 2019 Challenge 1: Being Watched
The Heat
The day had been difficult - aggravatingly bright, with the sun rising in a crisp, clear sky, only to turn into a scorching blaze at noon. The stench of blood on the executioner’s block was still ripe in Gwaine’s nostrils and the buzzing of flies lingered in his ears. The alcohol didn’t help, but he was ever hopeful that it would. He had no idea how he’d ended up slumped behind the drapes at the end of the corridor that led to Arthur’s chambers - he assumed he must have passed out because he didn’t remember it being so dark. The sound of Arthur’s boots echoed off the stone walls, followed closely by Merlin’s much softer footfalls. Some distant, sluggish part of his brain knew he should get up and make himself known, but moving was difficult and common sense and propriety were having a hard time fighting their way through the fog.
“You don’t have to stay if… If Gaius needs you,” Arthur said curtly when they reached the door. He sounded as if he was barely holding it together, like he would drop to his knees and start begging the moment he loosened the desperate grip he had on the last remnants of self-control. The entire morbid day had been a culmination of a sordid week and now that it was over, the King was starting to unwind.
“Gaius doesn’t need me,” Merlin said blithely, as if everything was normal and the tension not at a breaking point. “I have the water warming for your bath. You’ll feel better once we get you clean.”
Arthur had worn his ceremonial armour and the red, heavy cloak as he’d presided over the executions of his three boyhood friends. Drunk, they had raped a woman and killed her husband when he’d tried to defend her. They had forgotten that the crown now sat on Arthur’s golden head and the time of Uther’s arbitrary justice was over. Too late they remembered that Arthur had married a common maid and made her a Queen. There would be no clemency if they were discovered, so they wiped out the whole family, including three children, to get rid of the witnesses. Only the youngest survived, hiding in the rafters, unseen. A patrol had found the boy wandering alone; dead-eyed, dehydrated and covered in gore. Merlin had taken charge of him and held his hand when he testified before the court.
Gwaine heard the King’s cloak rustle as it was discarded and the buckles on his armour clinked.
“Merlin…” Arthur sighed, all his need wrapping around the name.
“Lift your arms for me,” Merlin commanded gently and the chainmail was up and off.
There was a side to Arthur that only emerged on the battlefield, as if the spirit of a death god descended upon him, turning him ruthless. He was terrifying in what he could become, with the infinite chasm of destruction yawning behind the pale blue of his eyes, but it never lasted for long, because Merlin always went to him when it was over and locked the doors behind them. Gwaine had never seen it come over him in times of peace, within the walls Camelot, but it was there now. The murderers had been his knights, men of noble birth whose fathers sat on Arthur’s councils and owned important estates. Years ago, Uther had assigned all three to Arthur’s entourage, where they had stayed until Merlin came along. Agravaine’s prattle still rattled around Gwaine’s skull because, apparently, the copious amounts of alcohol he’d drunk were not enough to drown it out.
“These are our boys, Arthur, our knights! They are of noble blood, and they made a mistake! They have a bright future ahead of them! Let’s not ruin that over the lives of some peasants!”
But the value of human life in Camelot was no longer assigned by bloodlines.
“Merlin… Oh, gods, Merlin…” Arthur gasped and the buckle of his belt struck the floor. “Morris can… Morris can help me get ready for bed if you want to go.”
“Morris?” Merlin said lightly and Gwaine heard the soft thud as he dropped to his knees, followed by the metallic clang of Arthur’s crown when the back of his head hit the wall. “I can get him, if you want. Would you prefer him instead of me?”
“No!” Arthur’s exclaimed desperately, but then caught himself and tried again. “It’s just… I just thought… Gaius has been so busy. Or so you said. It’s been three months now since Gaius has been busy. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“Hmm,” Merlin hummed and a soft, squelching sound joined Arthur’s heavy breathing. “You’re married, my Lord. I didn’t realise I’d be missed. You’ve got a new Queen to entertain and she’s not yet with a child. I didn’t think she’d appreciate my presence.”
“And tonight?”
“You’re not fit for the company of a lady tonight, Arthur. Let me take care of you.”
The wet rhythm picked up in pace and Arthur keened.
“Yes,” he gasped. “Oh, yes… that sounds… good, Merlin, that is so good!”
The orgasm caught him by surprise and he cried out as he came. He slid to the floor, knocking over a table on his way down. Cups clattered and rolled, one making its way out into the empty hall and coming to rest at the toes of Gwaine’s boot.
“These dishes have been sitting here since last night,” Arthur panted out at last. “You really are the worst servant ever.”
Merlin laughed, and a kiss was muffled against bare skin.
“Sometimes, there is just no pleasing you!”
“We should…” Arthur began cautiously. “We should go hunting soon. Take a couple of days.”
“The cook has been complaining that her stocks are low,” Merlin mused. “Maybe we could make it a week.”
“A week sound good,” Arthur agreed eagerly. “We should discuss it more. The bed looks… comfortable.”
“It certainly does!” Merlin got to his feet. “Let me just lock the door.”