FIC: Droit de Seigneur (Merlin, Arthur/Merlin)
I wroted a story!
Title: Droit de Seigneur
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Length: 1,900
Notes: Thanks to icekestrel for suggestions and reassurance!
There was nothing wrong with lusting over servants. Most of Arthur's knights had their sheets regularly warmed by various serving wenches and Uther had, in a mortifying conversation that still made Arthur curl up in embarrassment thinking of it, made it clear that as long as the trysts didn't result in any accidental children, he wasn't going to object to Arthur taking a servant to his bed.
So Arthur did. Not with any especial frequency or favouritism but when his right hand simply wasn't enough, well, why not take advantage of available resources?
Until that blasted Merlin showed up and Arthur found he was thinking of servants as people, which made the whole thing far more complicated than it had any right to be. The slight hesitation before a girl shed her clothing started to be significant and withering and now Arthur hadn't had sex for four months and he really was going to kill Merlin.
So it was with a certain vindictiveness that, one bright morning, Arthur said, "You know, Merlin, you really should learn some basic fighting skills."
Merlin looked up from folding Arthur's clothes with a sunny grin. "Oh, I'm just a manservant. It's really not my job."
Arthur got up close enough that he could practically feel the heat from Merlin's skin and said, "Your job's whatever I say your job is." It was quite satisfying to see Merlin pale. "What if you ever have to defend me?"
"If I have to defend you from something that's taken you down, I don't have a hope," Merlin said.
"True," Arthur said. It wasn't arrogance. Just confidence in his own abilities. "But you might be able to slow it down long enough for the rest of the army to catch up. Sacrifice yourself in a noble cause."
Merlin didn't look convinced. That just made Arthur smile wider.
In the armoury, Arthur fitted Merlin with vambraces, making sure they fit securely but weren't too tight. Merlin flexed his arms experimentally.
"Don't I get a breastplate?" Merlin asked. "Helm? Gorget? Mail?"
"Nope. I won't be hitting anything but your arms today." Arthur tossed him a dagger, handle first, and sighed as Merlin fumbled and dropped it.
"Aren't you wearing any armour?" Merlin asked, as Arthur turned towards the door.
"No need. You won't be hitting me at all."
As Merlin bent down to pick up the dagger, he gave Arthur a sideways look from narrowed eyes, which Arthur happily ignored.
"Follow me," he said.
Merlin groaned as they approached the practice field, populated with hopeful knights-to-be sparring. "Do we have to do this in full public view?"
"The practice field's a safe environment - even footing and a soft surface for you to fall on."
Merlin gave Arthur a soulful look. "But I won't be fighting on nice, soft grass. I'm more likely to be fighting in the castle itself."
Hmm. Public humiliation versus bruises from hard stone floors. It was a difficult decision but there was a deciding factor. "Alright," Arthur said, raising his arms in exaggerated defeat. "We'll have the lesson in my quarters. But you'll owe me." He turned and marched off, Merlin trotting after him.
Two hours later, Merlin was a sweaty, bruised mess with a few new holes in his shirt (from his own dagger) and a whole new appreciation of just how hard stone is. Arthur felt his morning had been well spent.
His satisfaction grew when Merlin tripped over the rug for the forty-seventh time, to land sprawling on his arse with limbs gangling around him. Arthur rested his hands on his hips, dagger still in his fist. "You really need to be more aware of what your feet are doing," he said. "If you can't keep track of your footing in a room you know this well, what are you going to do in a strange environment?" He reached a hand down to pull Merlin to his feet as Merlin muttered some kind of foreign swearword.
And then the rug seemed to jerk under Arthur's feet.
And, mortifyingly, he was falling forwards.
And his dagger was in his hand. In front of him. Facing upwards.
Oh, no, Arthur thought. I am not falling on my sword.
He was already moving his dagger hand, shifting his weight and rolling to direct his landing, but it felt almost like his dagger was being pulled in a different direction because it wouldn't move bloody fast enough, and it was completely throwing off his movements.
He landed.
"Oh, shit!" he hissed, as the sharp pain hit his left hip. He rolled over and stared at the blood already welling out of the cut in his trousers. "Shit, shit, shit." He glanced up and saw Merlin staring at him, eyes wide and mouth open in horror. "Oh, pull yourself together. Get me a clean cloth."
Merlin scrambled to his feet. "I'll get Gaius. He'll know-"
"NO!" Arthur hadn't meant to shout but it stopped Merlin in his tracks. "I am not having it get out that I got injured in a fight with you. I'd never be able to hold my head up in public again."
"But - it could be serious-"
"It's not." Arthur pressed the fabric of his trousers over the wound, tight enough to stop the blood. "I got enough cuts and bruises in training to know when to worry. It just needs to be cleaned and bandaged and I'm sure you're capable of doing that much." He eyed Merlin. "Well, I hope you are." He held up his right arm. "Get me up." It was difficult to keep the pain from showing in his face as he moved his left leg but he was finally upright. "Water," he snapped at Merlin.
"Gaius insists on using boiled water," Merlin said. "I'll go and get some."
"Fine, fine," Arthur said. "Just be quick."
And Merlin, to give him credit, was quick. Arthur had eased his trousers and underwear down over his hips and was contemplating how to get his boots off without having to actually bend down and risk the cut starting to bleed again when Merlin reappeared, bowl of steaming water in his hands and, over his arm, a folded towel that proved to contain clean bandages. Somewhere along the way, he'd shed his vambraces.
"I asked Gaius how to dress it," Merlin said. "Get on the bed."
Arthur opened his mouth to object but Merlin spoke over him.
"Gaius said it's important to keep it as still as possible until it's properly dressed. Which means lying down."
"It's just a scratch," Arthur muttered but he let Merlin help him to his bed and only grumbled a little as Merlin removed his boots, trousers and underwear, with far more care than he usually showed.
Arthur commented on that and Merlin said, "Well, you're not normally bleeding all over the place."
"I'm not bleeding all over the place," Arthur said. "It's a little scratch that's already stopped bleeding and you're fussing over me like you're the one responsible."
Merlin started and blushed.
Arthur lay his head back and laughed. "You are not responsible."
After a moment, Merlin said, "You were only up here with a dagger in your hand because I didn't want to be on the practice field. I feel responsible."
"Okay, you're responsible, so get on with dressing it. I feel an idiot lying here half-naked."
And then there was a cautious touch of warm, damp fabric against his hip and the trickle of water making him shiver. And again. Gentle touches that left him breathing deeply. The awareness of a hand so close to his dick, smoothing away the pain and leaving an entirely different sensation, and it had been four long, endless months since he'd had sex.
Arthur closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and hoped that Merlin would be smart enough to ignore it.
Of course, Merlin wasn't. He paused in his ministrations and said, "Um..."
"Don't take it personally," Arthur said. Merlin still didn't move, and Arthur said, "Oh, get on with it."
Only Arthur hadn't meant for Merlin to get on with that.
Not that he was going to object because Merlin's hand was so much softer than his own and he seemed to know instinctively what girls had to be told - the right grip and speed and just where to touch and how.
Arthur took a deep breath, and then another, and it really had been four months. Either that or Merlin was far, far better at this than any of the girls had been because there was already the familiar feeling of his entire body coming to life and he couldn't stop himself from thrusting into Merlin's hand, harder and faster, and there, that was it, and the orgasm flooded through him, leaving him breathing heavily and filled with an infinitely pleasurable lethargy.
He felt the bed shake as Merlin thudded down to lie next to him and Arthur eventually managed to open his eyes and look over at Merlin. Merlin had his eyes shut and Arthur glanced further down to see that, yes, Merlin was... excited about the whole thing.
It seemed unfair to send him away in that condition when he'd been so obliging.
Arthur's hands trembled slightly - with the aftermath of his orgasm, he told himself - as he unfastened Merlin's trousers, and Merlin's eyes flew open. "Er," he said. "You really don't-"
"Oh, shut up," Arthur said, and wrapped his hand round Merlin's dick.
A dick in his hand certainly didn't feel unusual - four months, after all - but the angle was all wrong and he couldn't work out what to do and Merlin wasn't lighting up the way Arthur had. There was only one thing to do, if Merlin wasn't going to walk away feeling smugly superior. Arthur had to up the stakes.
And so he pushed Merlin's trousers further down, leaned over, and took Merlin's dick in his mouth.
Merlin let out a damp squeak and his hips surged upwards, nearly choking Arthur, but Arthur leaned his full weight on Merlin's thighs, forcing him to be still. Well, still-ish. Arthur couldn't do anything about the writhing little jerks, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to as he licked around the head of Merlin's dick and Merlin made more of those gasping squeaks.
And then Merlin's hand was on Arthur's head, fingers ruffling through his hair, as he said, "I'm - oh! - I'm about to-"
It became very clear what he was about to do when the first spurt hit Arthur's tongue. Arthur jerked away and spat it out instinctively, leaving the rest to go where it would. "Eurgh," he said, eloquently. "A bit more warning next time, okay?"
"Mmm," Merlin said, smiling dopily.
Arthur looked down at him, decided the chances of getting an intelligent response were minimal, so lay back down. After a moment, he wriggled under the covers. After a few moments more, he yanked the covers out from under Merlin and draped them over him, too.
"Thanks," Merlin muttered sleepily.
Arthur was going to point out that Merlin still had his boots on but decided it was probably too much effort. He'd deal with it in a few minutes. After he'd shut his eyes for a bit.
Just for a bit.
Title: Droit de Seigneur
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Length: 1,900
Notes: Thanks to icekestrel for suggestions and reassurance!
There was nothing wrong with lusting over servants. Most of Arthur's knights had their sheets regularly warmed by various serving wenches and Uther had, in a mortifying conversation that still made Arthur curl up in embarrassment thinking of it, made it clear that as long as the trysts didn't result in any accidental children, he wasn't going to object to Arthur taking a servant to his bed.
So Arthur did. Not with any especial frequency or favouritism but when his right hand simply wasn't enough, well, why not take advantage of available resources?
Until that blasted Merlin showed up and Arthur found he was thinking of servants as people, which made the whole thing far more complicated than it had any right to be. The slight hesitation before a girl shed her clothing started to be significant and withering and now Arthur hadn't had sex for four months and he really was going to kill Merlin.
So it was with a certain vindictiveness that, one bright morning, Arthur said, "You know, Merlin, you really should learn some basic fighting skills."
Merlin looked up from folding Arthur's clothes with a sunny grin. "Oh, I'm just a manservant. It's really not my job."
Arthur got up close enough that he could practically feel the heat from Merlin's skin and said, "Your job's whatever I say your job is." It was quite satisfying to see Merlin pale. "What if you ever have to defend me?"
"If I have to defend you from something that's taken you down, I don't have a hope," Merlin said.
"True," Arthur said. It wasn't arrogance. Just confidence in his own abilities. "But you might be able to slow it down long enough for the rest of the army to catch up. Sacrifice yourself in a noble cause."
Merlin didn't look convinced. That just made Arthur smile wider.
In the armoury, Arthur fitted Merlin with vambraces, making sure they fit securely but weren't too tight. Merlin flexed his arms experimentally.
"Don't I get a breastplate?" Merlin asked. "Helm? Gorget? Mail?"
"Nope. I won't be hitting anything but your arms today." Arthur tossed him a dagger, handle first, and sighed as Merlin fumbled and dropped it.
"Aren't you wearing any armour?" Merlin asked, as Arthur turned towards the door.
"No need. You won't be hitting me at all."
As Merlin bent down to pick up the dagger, he gave Arthur a sideways look from narrowed eyes, which Arthur happily ignored.
"Follow me," he said.
Merlin groaned as they approached the practice field, populated with hopeful knights-to-be sparring. "Do we have to do this in full public view?"
"The practice field's a safe environment - even footing and a soft surface for you to fall on."
Merlin gave Arthur a soulful look. "But I won't be fighting on nice, soft grass. I'm more likely to be fighting in the castle itself."
Hmm. Public humiliation versus bruises from hard stone floors. It was a difficult decision but there was a deciding factor. "Alright," Arthur said, raising his arms in exaggerated defeat. "We'll have the lesson in my quarters. But you'll owe me." He turned and marched off, Merlin trotting after him.
Two hours later, Merlin was a sweaty, bruised mess with a few new holes in his shirt (from his own dagger) and a whole new appreciation of just how hard stone is. Arthur felt his morning had been well spent.
His satisfaction grew when Merlin tripped over the rug for the forty-seventh time, to land sprawling on his arse with limbs gangling around him. Arthur rested his hands on his hips, dagger still in his fist. "You really need to be more aware of what your feet are doing," he said. "If you can't keep track of your footing in a room you know this well, what are you going to do in a strange environment?" He reached a hand down to pull Merlin to his feet as Merlin muttered some kind of foreign swearword.
And then the rug seemed to jerk under Arthur's feet.
And, mortifyingly, he was falling forwards.
And his dagger was in his hand. In front of him. Facing upwards.
Oh, no, Arthur thought. I am not falling on my sword.
He was already moving his dagger hand, shifting his weight and rolling to direct his landing, but it felt almost like his dagger was being pulled in a different direction because it wouldn't move bloody fast enough, and it was completely throwing off his movements.
He landed.
"Oh, shit!" he hissed, as the sharp pain hit his left hip. He rolled over and stared at the blood already welling out of the cut in his trousers. "Shit, shit, shit." He glanced up and saw Merlin staring at him, eyes wide and mouth open in horror. "Oh, pull yourself together. Get me a clean cloth."
Merlin scrambled to his feet. "I'll get Gaius. He'll know-"
"NO!" Arthur hadn't meant to shout but it stopped Merlin in his tracks. "I am not having it get out that I got injured in a fight with you. I'd never be able to hold my head up in public again."
"But - it could be serious-"
"It's not." Arthur pressed the fabric of his trousers over the wound, tight enough to stop the blood. "I got enough cuts and bruises in training to know when to worry. It just needs to be cleaned and bandaged and I'm sure you're capable of doing that much." He eyed Merlin. "Well, I hope you are." He held up his right arm. "Get me up." It was difficult to keep the pain from showing in his face as he moved his left leg but he was finally upright. "Water," he snapped at Merlin.
"Gaius insists on using boiled water," Merlin said. "I'll go and get some."
"Fine, fine," Arthur said. "Just be quick."
And Merlin, to give him credit, was quick. Arthur had eased his trousers and underwear down over his hips and was contemplating how to get his boots off without having to actually bend down and risk the cut starting to bleed again when Merlin reappeared, bowl of steaming water in his hands and, over his arm, a folded towel that proved to contain clean bandages. Somewhere along the way, he'd shed his vambraces.
"I asked Gaius how to dress it," Merlin said. "Get on the bed."
Arthur opened his mouth to object but Merlin spoke over him.
"Gaius said it's important to keep it as still as possible until it's properly dressed. Which means lying down."
"It's just a scratch," Arthur muttered but he let Merlin help him to his bed and only grumbled a little as Merlin removed his boots, trousers and underwear, with far more care than he usually showed.
Arthur commented on that and Merlin said, "Well, you're not normally bleeding all over the place."
"I'm not bleeding all over the place," Arthur said. "It's a little scratch that's already stopped bleeding and you're fussing over me like you're the one responsible."
Merlin started and blushed.
Arthur lay his head back and laughed. "You are not responsible."
After a moment, Merlin said, "You were only up here with a dagger in your hand because I didn't want to be on the practice field. I feel responsible."
"Okay, you're responsible, so get on with dressing it. I feel an idiot lying here half-naked."
And then there was a cautious touch of warm, damp fabric against his hip and the trickle of water making him shiver. And again. Gentle touches that left him breathing deeply. The awareness of a hand so close to his dick, smoothing away the pain and leaving an entirely different sensation, and it had been four long, endless months since he'd had sex.
Arthur closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and hoped that Merlin would be smart enough to ignore it.
Of course, Merlin wasn't. He paused in his ministrations and said, "Um..."
"Don't take it personally," Arthur said. Merlin still didn't move, and Arthur said, "Oh, get on with it."
Only Arthur hadn't meant for Merlin to get on with that.
Not that he was going to object because Merlin's hand was so much softer than his own and he seemed to know instinctively what girls had to be told - the right grip and speed and just where to touch and how.
Arthur took a deep breath, and then another, and it really had been four months. Either that or Merlin was far, far better at this than any of the girls had been because there was already the familiar feeling of his entire body coming to life and he couldn't stop himself from thrusting into Merlin's hand, harder and faster, and there, that was it, and the orgasm flooded through him, leaving him breathing heavily and filled with an infinitely pleasurable lethargy.
He felt the bed shake as Merlin thudded down to lie next to him and Arthur eventually managed to open his eyes and look over at Merlin. Merlin had his eyes shut and Arthur glanced further down to see that, yes, Merlin was... excited about the whole thing.
It seemed unfair to send him away in that condition when he'd been so obliging.
Arthur's hands trembled slightly - with the aftermath of his orgasm, he told himself - as he unfastened Merlin's trousers, and Merlin's eyes flew open. "Er," he said. "You really don't-"
"Oh, shut up," Arthur said, and wrapped his hand round Merlin's dick.
A dick in his hand certainly didn't feel unusual - four months, after all - but the angle was all wrong and he couldn't work out what to do and Merlin wasn't lighting up the way Arthur had. There was only one thing to do, if Merlin wasn't going to walk away feeling smugly superior. Arthur had to up the stakes.
And so he pushed Merlin's trousers further down, leaned over, and took Merlin's dick in his mouth.
Merlin let out a damp squeak and his hips surged upwards, nearly choking Arthur, but Arthur leaned his full weight on Merlin's thighs, forcing him to be still. Well, still-ish. Arthur couldn't do anything about the writhing little jerks, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to as he licked around the head of Merlin's dick and Merlin made more of those gasping squeaks.
And then Merlin's hand was on Arthur's head, fingers ruffling through his hair, as he said, "I'm - oh! - I'm about to-"
It became very clear what he was about to do when the first spurt hit Arthur's tongue. Arthur jerked away and spat it out instinctively, leaving the rest to go where it would. "Eurgh," he said, eloquently. "A bit more warning next time, okay?"
"Mmm," Merlin said, smiling dopily.
Arthur looked down at him, decided the chances of getting an intelligent response were minimal, so lay back down. After a moment, he wriggled under the covers. After a few moments more, he yanked the covers out from under Merlin and draped them over him, too.
"Thanks," Merlin muttered sleepily.
Arthur was going to point out that Merlin still had his boots on but decided it was probably too much effort. He'd deal with it in a few minutes. After he'd shut his eyes for a bit.
Just for a bit.