Part III
The night was a sea of icy shadows. Merlin found himself bound by ropes, his body pressed firmly against the thick log of elder wood in the wagon of the carriage. In Merlin's defeated, horizontal position, you could almost say that Merlin was lying on the log, though that might imply more comfort than he felt. Merlin had spent the entire day in this position, bouncing around the wagon as it progressed slowly and surely back to Camelot, where his fate was certain to sour. Now that night had fallen, the troupe of knights had set up camp, and there was nothing for Merlin to do but stare into the burlap bag still covering his head.
The knights by this point had heard he had misbehaved, but It seemed that Arthur had been coy about the details. Each time the knights traded who stood post, they shared rumblings about his possible discretions, which included cowering in battle, insulting Morgana, and being a spy who called the Saxons to them.
In the dead of night, as the moon cast its pale glow upon the scene, someone slowly approached the wagon where Merlin was kept captive. His footsteps were cautious, wary of growing too close to the wizard. The approaching man removed the burlap sack that obscured Merlin's face, revealing a mix of concern and curiosity in none other than Arthur's eyes.
"Merlin," Arthur's voice was soft, his tone laced with a blend of emotions. "Are you...alright?"
Merlin, his voice muffled by the position in which he was bound, replied with a mix of apology and desperation. "Arthur, I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I hope you understand how I feel about you, how I feel about Camelot. Is this completely necessary?"
Arthur's face betrayed a flicker of embarrassment. He took a pair of steps backwards, as though to distance himself from a concept he didn't completely understand. "Merlin, your actions... they have consequences. You have to understand that."
Merlin's voice trembled as he spoke. "I do understand, Arthur. And I will face those consequences. But please, believe me when I say that I have only ever wanted to protect you, to serve you with unwavering loyalty. I would give my life for you if it came to that. I would...I would... do ANYTHING for you!"
Arthur growled, and Merlin's eyes, perhaps partly due to the prostrate way he was bound, fell on his captor's belt. Did his eyes deceive him? Or was there something stirring under Arthur's waist?
"Merlin," Arthur whispered, his voice laced with disappointment, shaking his head. "First I have to deal with Morgana's heresies of dabbling in magic...and now...this? It's unthinkable. How could you put me in this position?"
"You mention Morgana...doesn't her opinion on the matter sway you slightly? She's been at your side her entire life."
"Morgana has been taken by horse to Camelot. She will beat us there so Gaius can tend to the injuries she sustained. I must confess I will not miss her chirping in my ear."
"Arthur, please...you must believe I did everything for you."
But Arthur, his sense of justice and duty deeply rooted, could not reconcile Merlin's actions. "You deceived me, Merlin," he replied, his tone tinged with bitterness. "I cannot condone this betrayal. Not even in the name of protection. You have violated the law of the land! Worse still, you have violated my trust. I thought--I thought you were the kind of person who would tell me anything. Now-- I believe NOTHING you say!"
"What I've done has helped you, you know. It's gotten you out of sticky spots. I couldn't just let bad things happen."
"I never asked for THAT kind of help!"
Merlin tried to crane his neck and catch Arthur's eyes.
"Put the sack back over him, Tristan," Arthur said. "I still hate to look at him."
The second night on their journey cast a pall upon the captive wizard. Merlin remained bound to the log of elder wood, his body pressed firmly against the rough surface, the burlap sack still covering his head. Speculations about the severity of his actions had grown among the knights, who now believed he plotted to kill the king, a development that could not bode well.
In the deep of night, a figure slowly approached the wagon. The figure hesitated for a moment, then reached out to remove the burlap sack, exposing Merlin's face to the dim moonlight.
"Merlin," Arthur's voice carried a somber tone, tinged with regret. "I hope you understand the gravity of your actions. I hope you know you must stand trial for what you've done."
Merlin's crunched up voice escaped with a mixture of apology and desperation. "Arthur, I understand the need for justice, but you must know that a trial in Uther's court is practically a death sentence."
Arthur's face betrayed a hint of conflicted emotions, his gaze flickering with a blend of sympathy and resolve. "Merlin, you know I value your loyalty and friendship. But I cannot ignore the consequences of your actions. A trial is the only way to ensure justice."
Merlin's voice trembled, his words strained with a sense of hopelessness. "Justice in Uther's court? You know as well as I do that it is an illusion, Arthur. The magic that flows through me would condemn me in their eyes, regardless of my intentions or service to Camelot."
Arthur's jaw tightened, his expression pained. He took a step back, distancing himself from the wizard's plea. "I understand your fear, Merlin. But as the future king, I must prioritize the stability and reputation of Camelot. We cannot let personal attachments cloud our judgment. And while your intentions may be innocent, your behavior has not been."
"Please, Arthur," Merlin said. "I'm your faithful servant. Not because I have to be. But because I want to be. Do you understand? The reason I would happily do anything for you--is because it's right--not just serving Camelot--but serving you."
Merlin was more brazen that night, as he stared at Arthur's belt. And that evening, there was no mistaking the heat rising there.
Merlin's bound form strained against the ropes, his voice filled with desperation. "Arthur, I have served you faithfully, risking my life countless times. I have stood by your side, shielding you from the monsters that threatened our kingdom. If there's any trust left between us, please find a way to spare me from a trial that offers no justice."
Arthur's features softened, the weight of their friendship bearing down upon him. "Merlin, I..." he began, his voice faltering as conflicting emotions swirled within him. "I don't want to see you suffer, but I must consider what's best for Camelot. We will find a way to ensure a fair trial, to present the truth."
Merlin's eyes welled, his mouth falling half-open as he stared at the prince's belt. "Anything, Arthur. There's nothing I wouldn't do." With his mouth gaping open, he looked up into Arthur's eyes.
"Lionel!" Arthur called out. "Cover him."
As Lionel replaced the burlap sack over Merlin's head, a sense of heaviness descended upon them. The darkness shrouded their connection, leaving Merlin to contemplate the impending trial and the risk it posed to his very existence. In the silence of the night, their unspoken bond remained, tested by the unforgiving trials of fate.
The third night enveloped the captive wizard with an air of unease. Three days bound to the log of elder wood was beginning to wear on his strength. His body ached against the rough surface. The burlap sack obscured his vision, keeping him in a state of perpetual darkness. He could only hope for footsteps, footsteps like he heard each night before.
Suddenly, the sound of crunching leaves approached the wagon, and Arthur's commanding voice pierced the silence. "Lancelot, you may leave. I can keep watch over Merlin tonight."
Lancelot hesitated, glancing between Arthur and the bound sorcerer. "Are you sure, Arthur? I can stay."
"No, Lancelot," Arthur's voice held a firm determination. "Go rest. I will take care of him."
Merlin heard the sound of breaking leaves in the opposite direction, and with a thrill of terror and hope, realized he was alone with his captor. Arthur approached the wagon cautiously. He removed the burlap sack, revealing Merlin's face, his body still bound and vulnerable.
"Merlin," Arthur's voice carried a mixture of frustration and concern. "I have thought about what you said. But I cannot lie to my father."
Merlin's voice, clogged by the wood pressing against his chest, squeezed its way out. "Arthur. You know a trial in Uther's court will not provide justice for me. It will be a mere formality, a twisted performance that ends with my demise."
Arthur's eyes held a hint of sympathy, his resolve wavering slightly. Merlin noticed his prince had not stepped back from him today, Arthur's belt perilously close to his face. "Merlin, I understand your fear, but I cannot simply disregard the consequences of your actions. We must follow the path of justice, even if it means facing our fears."
Merlin's voice quivered with emotion as he implored, "Arthur, please. I have given everything for you and Camelot." Merlin craned his neck to look up at his prince. "I have risked my life time and time again, all for the sake of serving you. Can't you find a way to save me from this dark fate? Isn't there anything I can do to prove...that I'm your man?"
Arthur's conflicted expression gave way to a surge of adrenaline. "Merlin, you don't understand. The power you've given me, the sacrifices you've made... It stirs something within me, something I don't fully understand. But this trial must proceed. We must ensure that justice is served."
As Merlin's desperate gaze fell upon Arthur's belt, he leaned forward, his actions driven by a mix of desperation and a growing sense of audacity. He pressed his lips against Arthur's buckle.
Startled, Arthur took a step back, his face flushing with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment.
"Merlin, what are you doing?"
Merlin's voice, muffled and laden with longing, escaped from his stifled, tied chest. "Arthur, there's nothing I would not do for you. I would go to the ends of the earth, defy the laws of magic, and face the harshest punishments just to protect you. Can't you see? Can't you feel the intensity of our connection?"
Arthur's heart raced, conflicting emotions swirling within him. "Merlin, this is not the time or place. We have a duty to Camelot and its people."
"If that's how you really feel, then why did you send Lancelot away?"
"So we could have a shred of privacy."
"Indeed."
"Oh, fuck you!"
Merlin's bound form strained against the ropes, his voice filled with desperation. "If that's what you want, sir."
"On the precipice of a cursed trial, you summon a new devilry! I cannot do this. What you would tempt me with is not the path of a king."
"Arthur, please," Merlin whispered, nibbling the prince's belt. "You must know that a true king does what he pleases. Please...please."
A growing scepter filled Arthur's pants, and Merlin, giving up on finessing, ensnared it with his lips. Merlin dropped sweet kisses around the fabric-clad pole, sucking the imprint of the mushroom head gently.
"Please, Arthur," Merlin whispered between kisses. "I would do it all for you."
Arthur glared down at Merlin, flexing menacingly, summoning a reaction worthy of this new demon inside him.
Holding the blistering navy-blue gaze of his prince, Merlin prodded his tongue out and began to lick.