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No servants, no feasts, and no music. Just Arthur, his ramshackle cottage in the woods, and a ferocious determination to make it on his own. He rebuilt his home with his own two hands, washed his cares away in the nearby river, and farmed the land until it burst with the fruit of his labor. He had a life of his own now and was happy, even if he was slowly going mad.
It started small with misplaced dishes and missing buttons. Pretty soon though he was finding bouquets of flowers where his tools should be, destroyed clothing, and his horse too exhausted to ride. Yet, the crops were harvested, his blankets mended, and baskets of fruit left at his door daily. It was both infuriating and oddly endearing. There were days Arthur couldn’t decide whether to punish the culprit, or thank them.
One afternoon he’d been gathering mushrooms in the forest when a flickering light in the distance caught his eye. The more he tried to ignore it the more insistent, almost hypnotizing, it became. He soon found himself following it deep into the woods until it faded and everything grew dark.
~*~*~*~*~*~
When he woke Arthur found himself flat on his back and strapped down to the mossy ground by what looked to be vines of ivy. Worse still, his shirt was in tatters around his body and no matter how he struggled he couldn’t break free of the vine. He was formulating a plan of escape when a tiny creature zipped past and then returned to hover close to his face.
It had the likeness of a man. A very small, near naked, palm-sized man in a green loincloth with dark hair, blue eyes, pointed ears, and the most delicately beautiful wings he’d ever seen. They were almost translucent and they shimmered and fluttered behind the creature as it stared down at him. It began to gesture expansively and rant, it’s “voice” sounding like outraged wind chimes.
Arthur couldn’t understand a word it was saying, he only knew that it felt he was somehow to blame. Arthur should have been angry but was still a little in shock and the creature was, quite frankly, enchanting. He watched bemused as it’s furious scolding died down until it simply hovered there above him, chest heaving in exertion and antennae twitching wildly.
“Beautiful.” Arthur breathed almost unconsciously. The pixie glowed briefly in what looked like embarrassment before it’s face twisted with some strong emotion. It dived down to cling to and stroke his hair as it trilled longingly into his ear.
“Merlin.” Arthur repeated dumbly, all of the sudden uncomfortably aware of his exposed chest and unfastened breeches in the cool night air. Merlin continued to babble and sing against the sensitive curve of his ear and Arthur felt his face grow hot, felt his body ache in reaction to the slew of heated confessions.
The pixie flit back up to kneel, feather light, on his mouth and cling to his nose in a desperate embrace. Arthur couldn’t hear the things it crooned anymore. He was only able to watch as Merlin’s expressive eyes darkened with desire as the warmth of Arthur’s breath pushed between its legs to flow along the hypersensitive lace of its wings.
The pixies’ mouth parted in a shocked needy cry, revealing a set of needle sharp teeth. The pixie, Merlin, was staring hungrily down at the dazed and intrigued expression on his face as if completely charmed. Arthur watched its knees part almost unwillingly; watched it slide down, molasses slow, to straddle his mouth and press flush against the damp heat there. Merlin’s tiny body glowed and its silky wings moved restlessly as he writhed against the plump weight of his lips. Arthur’s body strained upward in response, relishing the unyielding pressure of the ivy. He was utterly entranced by the sparkling vision in front of his eyes and no longer able to focus on a plan of escape.
Merlin’s squirming quickly grew frantic and its pitchy little cries triggered something dark, and utterly primitive in the back of Arthur’s mind. Something that wanted to make the creature scream louder in that sweet, musical voice. Unable to resist the impulse, he eased the very tip of his tongue out to stroke carefully, wetly, along the sweet smelling creature riding his mouth. Merlin almost immediately stiffened, grinding in furious circles, and came with a fluting keen. It’s back arched, wings quivering, and its tiny hands grasping and kneading at the bridge of his nose. The hint of honeysuckle had Arthur’s hips thrusting up unconsciously in reaction, cock blurting precum as Merlin shivered and crooned something that sounded terrifyingly like...
“Keep you.”