|tetsubinatu (tetsubinatu) wrote,|
@ 2010-09-03 10:50:00
|Entry tags:||fic, merlin, merlin/arthur, non-con, slash|
Title: Fallen - sequel to Conquered
Rating: R (~800 words)
Warnings: NON-CON AR where Merlin is a Prince and Arthur is his slave.
Disclaimer: I do not own this version of Merlin, nor am I making any profit from it.
Prompt: This is a sequel ficlet to Conquered. I had no intention of returning to this AR but I woke up this morning with this in my head.
When Prince Merlin first proposed that he take Arthur outside, Arthur wanted to refuse. He... people would see him, and he would be there.
"The King has given permission," Merlin assured him, "No-one will notice you."
Arthur had learned a lot during the three months of his slavery, but he hadn't been outside the Prince's Chambers in all that time. Meals arrived by magic and the only people to come through the door were Merlin and him.
Merlin... Merlin was his master - but he, the King, brought only pain. The first time he had come through the door Arthur had stood up to him, had tried to fight back. Merlin had come back to discover him in a pool of his own blood on the floor.
"It's the anniversary of my mother's death," Merlin had explained, his magic crackling fire through Arthur's bones until they were straight and whole again. "He loved her very much, and your father had her killed. I'll spare you the details."
He had already told Arthur the details; scouring, brutal words punctuating the acts of brutal hands.
Arthur turned his head away as Merlin sent tendrils of magic curling through ripped flesh, mending what had been torn. He hadn't been there long then, hadn't accepted the truth of his situation, but he had known enough even then to open his mouth compliantly when Merlin finished healing him and crawled over to kneel astride his chest. Merlin had fucked his mouth with absent-minded care before kissing his forehead and wandering down to his workshop. Arthur had slept, escaping into dreamless oblivion. But that was only the first time.
It happened at least once a week and now Arthur didn't resist. He thought that Merlin might have protested, although never in front of Arthur, because he never broke any bones any more unless Arthur said or did something to anger him. There were times when Arthur managed to get through it without so much as a mark, although more often he wore the bruises for days. Merlin never healed the bruises.
He was outside. Arthur really didn't want to go outside.
Merlin snapped on his leash and Arthur dropped to his knees pleadingly, but Merlin's mouth merely tightened and he said, "Come, Arthur" so Arthur rose to his feet and followed his master down the spiral stairs he had ascended all those months ago.
As he passed the window the view was cold and barren. Winter had taken the fields below while he was high in his turret, and snow covered the fields which had been full of ripening corn when Arthur had been Prince.
Merlin was right: no-one noticed him. Whatever spell the Prince had cast meant that people saw him - they didn't run into him or look through him - but their eyes never truly lighted on him, never noticed him. It was as if he was something ordinary that they saw every day and had no particular interest in. He saw many of the servants he knew, going about their business as if nothing had changed. Bardon, the castle steward, hurried past. He looked exactly as he always had - even his hat was the same one he had been wearing on the day of the invasion.
Nothing had changed. Arthur looked around and realised that he meant nothing to these people. He had loved and sweated - he would have died for them - and it meant nothing. Their lives were untouched by his fall from Prince to slave. He wanted to weep.
Merlin pulled him into a shadowed alcove, snapping his fingers, and Arthur dropped to his knees as he had been trained, reaching for Merlin's breeches. Merlin let him take his cock out and suck on it, gently stroking his hair. As he swallowed, Arthur realised that he was sobbing quietly under his breath. Merlin pulled him in close, letting Arthur lean into the warmth of his leg, the soothing sympathy of Merlin's gentle hands in his hair. They were still for a little while before Merlin spoke again.
Arthur nodded, then said shakily, "Yes sir." His hands automatically slid Merlin's clothes back into place, tucking and smoothing them as he breathed deeply and moved away from the sanctuary of Merlin's leg. Merlin snapped his fingers again and Arthur stood up, looking at the floor, but Merlin raised his chin with one hand and dropped a light kiss on his lips.
"Come on," he said cheerfully. "You'll like this."
Arthur took a deep breath and followed the light tug of his master's chain back into the light.
The third part of this series is here: Deep