|tetsubinatu (tetsubinatu) wrote,|
@ 2010-04-13 23:20:00
|Entry tags:||1, fic, merlin, merlin/arthur, slash|
The black-hearted knight
Title: The black-hearted knight
Rating: light R for adult themes
Word Count: ~3600 words
Warnings: Attempted coercion
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me.
Prompt: This was written for a kinkme_merlin prompt here.
Arthur had inherited Sir Cadogan from his father. The man was at least forty, but still strong and broad-shouldered, still formidable in battle. He had brains, too - brainless knights died young, and Cadogan's survival with all his limbs spoke eloquently for him in this regard.
Arthur still didn't like him.
Even in his younger days Arthur had known that Cadogan held no respect for the chivalric ideal. Women, in Cadogan's opinion, were best on their knees serving him. Peasants too. And he said so frequently, with much unnecessary detail.
Arthur gritted his teeth and waited for the day that Cadogan would be too slow - or possibly the day when he did something meritorious enough for Arthur to reward him with lands at the other end of the kingdom.
And then Merlin came and Arthur's views on peasants sharpened into tight focus. No longer a mass of undifferentiated humanity- his people only by right of inheritance - the peasants became his people, each one an individual soul dependent on his goodwill, his strength of arm and will, just as Merlin and Guinevere were.
Cadogan's endless tales of sexual conquest and putting peasants in their place became intolerable on an even more personal level. Arthur had put a stop to the grossest practices - even Cadogan now knew that rape and bloodshed of Camelot's populace was unacceptable, but he had merely diverged into more subtle methods of abuse. The bruised, downtrodden woman who kept his chambers clean and shared his bed made no complaint, but Arthur could not think that she was well cared for either.
Cadogan kept no squires. And that spoke of his character, too. A man of his age and lineage should have had young noblemen queuing for guidance, but noble boys found other sponsors and Cadogan seemed unperturbed.
Cadogan made no secret of his opinion that the Prince was too weak and soft-hearted for his station, but he never crossed the line into punishable impertinence either. Arthur ignored him as much as possible, but on patrols there was no easy way to do that. Crowded around a campfire at night the knights and their attendant squires and servants would share meals and entertain each other with stories and songs, usually bawdy. A young squire might blush the first time he came on patrol but they were all men together and no offence meant or taken.
This night was warm, a lovely summer evening and patrol had gone well. Arthur had taken first watch, and the campfire chat was still going when second watch came on duty. Arthur strolled back to the fire, which had died back to embers now that the cooking was finished since the night was so balmy that no fire was required.
"His mouth," Sir Cadogan was saying, "God - the things I want to do to that mouth. He has no idea. I've barely coaxed him to kiss me as yet but I will fuck that mouth before the month is out."
Arthur sighed. If he had to listen to Cadogan one more time. He circled around the perimeter of the camp, lurking in the darkness until he could reach his bedroll.
"Such a lightweight," Cadogan continued. "Next time the Prince takes out a patrol I'm going to take his cocksucking lips down to the Duck and Goose and pour a bit of ale into him. They have rooms upstairs there and no interfering busybodies to spoil sport."
"What servant boy is going to go to the Duck and Goose with you," scoffed Alain. "Even a lackwit would know better!"
"I'm a noble knight, me," grinned Cadogan, unruffled by the slur. "Pure of heart and mind and..."
The other knights were tossing their crusts at him and he dodged with a lecherous guffaw. "God, I'd say anything to fuck that mouth - with seconds of his pure little arse. Tight and tempting that is, too."
Arthur slid into his bedroll and turned his face away from the group by the fire, letting the group's words and laughter fade into meaningless noise until he fell asleep.