Work Text:
“Whatever happens, don’t leave the cave.”
That’s the last thing Merlin’s father said before he died. Balinor went out that day to kill the beast that had been terrorising them and the animals and came back with a chest wound that would be the death of him. This only further enforced what his father had impressed upon him his whole life.
The cave is safe.
Merlin was only three when Balinor fled to the safety of the cave after Uther put a ban on magic and all those associated with it. He was still growing into his powers and it was too great a risk to live among other people. It was much safer, and far more peaceful, to live in isolation.
Merlin’s earliest memory was of his father scolding him for venturing too close to the cave entrance. And eventually, like all children, he snuck out to explore. He never dared to go too far out for fear of losing the way home. Finally, Balinor grew wise and allowed Merlin to leave the cave. At first it was only at night, with his supervision. Then it was at night, and only up to twenty feet away from the entrance. When Merlin turned sixteen, he was able to roam freely as far as the treeline in each direction at any time of the day, but he had to be on his guard, and he had to bring home food if he was to be out for long.
So Merlin knew that he wasn’t to take “don’t leave the cave” too seriously. Obviously he could enter and leave to gather herbs and hunt deer or stargaze. But he must always make his home there. Always.
Merlin hadn’t always been keen on living in a dark, damp cave. He was naturally curious and the only other people he’d seen were men wearing red capes riding horses that his father said were Knights of Camelot. He was never to speak to them or even be seen by them at all.
After that day, however, Merlin was perfectly fine with staying safe in his cave.
When Balinor took his last breath, Merlin wrapped him in his favourite blanket and took him down to the smallest and darkest alcove of the cave and rested him against the wall. Then he returned to the main room with the fire and opened the bestiary to the bookmarked page his father had been reading the night before.
The ibex is a remarkably fast type of wild goat with large, strong horns. It generally lives in a high place, like a mountain (which made sense because their cave was under a mountain) and only comes down if it senses the presence of humans or wild animals. It represents those who strive to overcome the adversities of the world.
Balinor had said that the beast that was out there most closely resembled the ibex. Like some sort of magical Ibex of Doom or something. What troubled Merlin was why it had decided to show up now if they’d been living peacefully under the mountain for twenty years.
It doesn’t matter, Merlin decided, slamming the book closed. I’ll find it and I’ll avenge my father if it’s the last thing I do.
***
The first day of searching for the beast was fruitless, as was the second, and the third day. On the fourth day, he was almost caught himself.
He’d been running through the trees for an hour when he spotted their bright red cloaks. The Knights of Camelot. Merlin stopped dead in his tracks the minute he saw them. Why weren’t they on the main road like they usually were? Were they hunting the beast too?
All was clear the moment the one in front got down from his horse and drew his sword. He had fair hair, a muscular build and a determined stance. His whole face was intensely trained on something in front of him. Merlin followed the man’s gaze and, gritting his teeth in anger, laid eyes on the beast that killed his father.
Merlin struggled not to charge after it himself. He was powerful, he reasoned, powerful enough to slay the monster and defend himself against the knights if he needed to. He’d kill them too if it came to it. Before, he never would have dreamed of hurting a creature that he wouldn’t be using for meat or fur, but his father’s death had hardened him. Now all he wanted was revenge.
But his father’s teachings ran deeper than his thirst for vengeance. He crouched and hid mutely behind a tree as he watched the group of knights prepare to face the beast. He prayed for their failure so that he might have the satisfaction himself.
The blonde leader twirled his sword expertly then set his feet apart and held his shield up. The other five knights with him entered the same defensive stance that he did. After a moment, the leader yelled, “Now!” and charged forward.
They shouted and cheered as if they had slain the beast already. Fools, Merlin thought. They’ve only alerted it and given it time to react. He would have slipped up to it quietly and launched a spell in surprise attack.
He watched until he could bear it no more. They had no idea how to deal with a magical creature such as this. He gritted his teeth and returned to his cave before they could flee and catch sight of him.
Almost two hours later, a groan reached Merlin’s ears as he played his pipe lazily by the fire. He took his mouth from the wood and listened.
There it was again, this time accompanied by footsteps.
Someone was making their way into his cave.
He hastily put out the fire and cast a quick glamour spell so whoever it was would only notice him and his belongings if they were looking for it.
It proved unnecessary however; the footsteps soon stopped and there was a dull thud as they fell to the ground. Merlin watched from the shadows until he was certain they were either dead or fainted. If dead, he’d put their body a good mile from the cave, and if fainted, he would wipe their memory of the cave and the surrounding area before laying them down three miles away.
After five minutes of simply staring at the limp form, Merlin cautiously approached. He recognised the hair immediately as that of the leader’s from before.
He jumped back, eyes wide. The man was still breathing but was badly hurt. Merlin reached out a hesitant hand and turned him over on his back. He had a shoulder wound, but it wasn’t fatal.
Merlin walked silently to the cave entrance and peeked out, looking for the rest of them. Surely they wouldn’t abandon their fearless leader, would they?
It turned out they had. Either that or they died. Merlin returned to the bleeding man on the cave floor and dragged him gently to the fireside. He had potions and pastes and healing herbs for this sort of thing. If he was lucky he could heal the man while he was still unconscious and get him on his merry way. If unlucky...well, he hoped that he’d have enough time for the memory-wipe spell.
Merlin got the man out of his mail and shirt and gasped at the sight before him. He was remarkably handsome and fit. He placed a hand on the blonde’s chest and his fingertips tingled at the touch. Never before had Merlin felt someone this way and it made him feel...odd. He couldn’t place it, but he liked touching this man and he liked seeing him unclothed and he wondered what lay beneath his trousers...
The man suddenly woke and gasped for air. His eyes were wide until he tried to sit up and squeezed his eyes shut in pain.
“Shh,” Merlin quieted him. So much for being lucky.
Merlin pushed gently down on the man’s chest to make him lay back down. The man looked around.
“Where am I?” He asked in a rough voice. His eyes found Merlin’s. “Who are you?”
Merlin and his father had always spoken in what his father called the Dragon Tongue, but Merlin knew some words of English. He could pick out the words “where” and “who” easily enough. Still, he wasn’t about to give this man his name, especially when he was the enemy.
“Shh,” he insisted once more. He pointed to the wound in the man’s shoulder.
The man seemed to understand that Merlin was only trying to help so he relaxed his muscles and nodded.
“Thank you. Whoever you are. You’re a good man.”
The words meant little to Merlin, who understood only “Thank you.” Merlin pat the man’s chest once more to indicate that he should stay, and for a moment he looked annoyed at Merlin’s implied suggestion that he could move anywhere else.
Merlin went to mix the herbs into a paste and whispered an incantation over it, then returned to the injured man. He wiped the wound clean with a cloth and began to apply the pale green cream.
The man’s lips turned up in a slight smile at the first touch. Merlin rubbed it gently into the skin and the man sighed his relief.
“You make a good physician,” he complimented, closing his eyes. Then, as if coming to his senses, “Do you live here alone?”
Merlin’s throat tightened at the words “live” and “alone.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.
“Why?”
Merlin put a finger over the man’s mouth and shook his head, meaning no more questions. He looked surprised and slightly annoyed and kind of amazed.
“Okay,” he said, when Merlin took his finger away.
Merlin finished applying the paste and left to get bandages. When he returned, the man was propped up on his elbow, eyeing the surroundings guiltily.
“Before you shush me again,” he said quickly. “My shoulder feels a lot better now and I just wanted to get an idea of where I was.”
Merlin tilted his head to one side to show that he didn’t understand.
“You don’t speak English?” The man asked. Merlin shook his head, and started tying the bandage around his shoulder. “Where are you from then?”
Merlin glared at him pointedly, reminding him of the “No Questions” rule that he thought had been perfectly established earlier.
“France?” The man ignored the look. “Spain?”
Merlin brought his brows together in a confused expression. He’d never heard of those places before.
Finally, realisation seemed to dawn on him. “Here. You were born here?”
Merlin sighed in exasperation. Why couldn’t he just shut up? He finished wrapping the bandage and pushed him back down slowly onto his back as he shushed him once again.
The man laughed and said, “Alright, alright. I’m Arthur, by the way. Can you say that? Arthur?” He pointed to himself when he repeated his name. Merlin understood that much.
“Ar...thur,” he said carefully, shaping his mouth over the word like learning a new spell. “Arthur. ArthurArthurArthur.”
“Ah, so you’re not mute then,” the blond replied, smiling. “Your name?” He pointed to Merlin.
“Me?” Merlin pointed to himself. Arthur nodded again.
He stared at Arthur a few moments, debating whether or not to reply. Finally he just said, “Shh,” and went back to playing his pipe.
***
The next time Arthur woke up, he was able to sit up and lean his back against the cave wall. The fire had gone down but his eyes had adjusted to the dim light. There were books and vials and herbs scattered everywhere. It had the look of once being organised but of someone having given up trying to keep things that way.
Merlin laid sleeping on a bedroll not far from him and across the room (if caves could have rooms) was another. But hadn’t he said he lived alone?
Arthur put the question away for later, among the millions of others he had for the man that wouldn’t tell him his name. He picked up the book nearest to him and opened to the bookmarked page.
There he saw a picture of a monster very similar to the one that had wounded him, along with notes in a weird language in the margins. One word was written boldly in English though, as if by a mad hand: KILL.
The book was torn from his grasp and he gasped. Merlin was fully awake and glaring at him but Arthur was too excited to be bothered about that.
“You want to kill this thing too!” He exclaimed.
Merlin put the book down out of Arthur’s reach and nodded when he turned back to him.
“And by the looks of things you know a lot more about it than my knights and I do,” he pressed on.
Merlin’s eyes narrowed. The word “knights” was the only one he understood and it put him on his guard.
“You should help us kill it.”
Merlin shook his head and pointed to himself. “I kill alone.”
Arthur froze at the hatred in his voice. He looked young, barely eighteen if he had to guess. How could he have so much anger already?
Then he looked at the empty bedroll again and Merlin followed his gaze.
“You said you lived alone,” Arthur said. Merlin nodded. “Friend?” He indicated the empty spot.
“Father.”
Arthur saw Merlin swallow hard and his heart ached for the man. He remembered the pain of his own father dying and understood why Merlin wanted to kill the beast so badly.
“I understand,” he told Merlin. “You kill alone.”
The grin that spread across Merlin’s face was wicked and Arthur didn’t like it.
“But look what it did to me,” Arthur gestured to his body. “What makes you think you’ll fare any better?”
Merlin tapped his head, meaning he knew more about the monster and how to defeat it than he did.
“Ah.” Arthur sat back. “Have you got any water?”
Merlin cocked his head.
“Water,” Arthur repeated. “Drink.” He mimicked the drinking gesture and Merlin understood.
Merlin stood and picked up his drinking pouch. He shook it and found it was almost empty.
“It’s fine,” Arthur said, noticing Merlin’s dismay.
But Merlin shook his head. He put a palm up to tell Arthur not to move, he’d be right back. Arthur rolled his eyes.
As soon as Merlin left the cave, Arthur shuffled onto his knees and hobbled around the room, looking for any information he could find on the odd man. There was a whole shelf of small, intricate wooden carvings, and Arthur wondered if Merlin had done them or his father. He peeked at the book titles and discovered that, like the rest, they were in an unknown language. It didn’t look French or Spanish, or even Italian. It seemed almost...
Arthur dropped the book in his hands. That’s why he wouldn’t give his name. That’s why he lived in a cave away from everyone else. That’s why he knew so much about the magical creature he’d been hunting.
The man was a sorcerer.
Arthur jumped at the sound of a cough behind him. Merlin stood with one hand on his hip and a single eyebrow raised. The pouch was dripping in his other hand.
“You’re a sorcerer,” Arthur stated.
Merlin, who understood the word “sorcerer” simply nodded. The truth of it was he was terrified of what Arthur might do next. He took some morbid comfort in the fact that he was injured and unable to get anywhere fast though.
“Do you know who I am?” Arthur asked.
“Arthur,” Merlin replied.
“Yes. But what else?”
“Knight.”
“Yes, but that’s not all.”
Merlin tilted his head like he always did when he was confused. “Leader?”
“King.”
“No!” Merlin dropped the water pouch. “NO!”
Arthur struggled to stand. “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.” He held his hands out as he approached him. “See?”
Merlin shook his head. “King...old...Evil. You...not.”
“Who told you that?”
Merlin, still at a loss for words, just pointed to the empty bedroll.
“My father was the king,” Arthur explained. “He died about a year ago.” By this point he’d reached Merlin and was surprised to find that the man was actually about an inch or two taller. Merlin took a step back.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Arthur repeated. “You’ve shown me kindness. Allow me to do the same.”
Merlin didn’t understand much, but Arthur’s expression didn’t seem dangerous so he let the blonde put a hand on his shoulder.
“See? Not evil, not going to hurt you.” Merlin visibly relaxed a bit and honestly, he liked Arthur’s touch. “Okay. Now, what’s your name?”
He took a deep breath. “Merlin.”
“Nice to meet you, Merlin.” Arthur took Merlin’s hand and shook it. Merlin looked at the exchange in confusion and Arthur laughed. “I’ve got a proposition for you, Merlin.”
Merlin raised an eyebrow.
“How would you like to come back to Camelot with me?”
“Camelot?” Merlin echoed.
“You would make a great assistant to the court physician, and it would get you out of this damp cave.”
“No.”
“No?! Haven’t you ever wanted to see the city? Surely you don’t mean to spend the rest of your life here.”
It was true he didn’t want to spend the rest of his days wasting away here, but his father had told him not to leave. He wasn’t about to go against Balinor’s dying wish.
And it could all end up being a trap anyways. No sorcerer was safe in Camelot. His father had told him that, and he wasn’t about to believe the word of a king.
“No.” Merlin stepped out of Arthur’s hold and picked up the water pouch. He shoved it against Arthur’s chest and stomped away to stare at the stars that had just come out outside.
***
When Merlin returned, Arthur was sitting up, staring blankly in front of him. He looked up when Merlin’s shadow passed over him but Merlin ignored him and began putting meat on to roast.
“When do you think I’ll be well enough to leave?” Arthur asked after a while.
Merlin didn’t reply, only turning the meat.
“I’ve got a kingdom to run, you know.”
Still no reply. Not even a shrug.
“My men are sure to be out looking for me. They might even find me.”
Ah, that got a reaction.
Merlin froze. Finally, with a sigh, he walked over and bent down to examine Arthur’s wound. After some prodding and wincing and peaking under bandages and more wincing, he held up two fingers.
“Two days?” Arthur confirmed. Merlin nodded. He rolled his eyes. “Giving me the silent treatment then? Don’t be such a girl, Merlin.”
Merlin, who had the vague notion that he’d just been called the opposite sex, cuffed Arthur round the head and said, “Shut up, you arrogant arse,” in his own language.
Arthur only laughed good-heartedly. “I’ve no idea what you said, but I get the feeling I’ve been insulted.”
Merlin found himself laughing as well and stopped immediately the second he realised it.
Instead of getting awkward about it, Arthur put a hand on Merlin’s arm. “It’s okay to laugh Merlin.”
Merlin threw a guilty glance to the bedroll over his shoulder, as if his father might be watching with that disapproving look of his. Arthur saw the motion.
“I’m sure he’d want you to be happy. Even if it is twisted pleasure at hurting someone who only wants to help.” He tousled Merlin’s hair affectionately and Merlin made a face that caused Arthur to break out into laughter again.
Merlin liked the sound of Arthur’s laughter. It was deep and warm and much different from his father’s. He’d never had a friend before and didn’t know if this was the type of things they did together, but he felt like he could be friends with Arthur. He enjoyed the man’s company and wanted him to stay.
Funny how quickly things changed over the course of a single day.
Merlin wanted to say all that to him but couldn’t. Instead he motioned for Arthur to lean closer, like he was about to tell him a secret. Then he wrapped his arms around his neck (gently, minding the wounded shoulder) in a warm embrace, pressing his cheek to Arthur’s.
“Arthur,” he sighed.
Arthur pat Merlin’s back awkwardly, aware that this was probably the only way Merlin knew how to show affection considering he was raised in a cave. Then he discovered that Merlin actually smelled nice and wasn’t all that awkward so he hugged back naturally.
“Merlin,” he replied. He thought to ask if this meant he had earned his trust, but he wisely decided against it.
***
Merlin was up early the next morning, but Arthur slept till nearly noon.
He hadn’t forgotten about the magical ibex at all. In fact he was twice as determined to kill it now that he’d made a friend of one of its victims. He was still out searching for it when Arthur woke, and Arthur passed the time trying to learn some of the ancient language that Merlin spoke. He didn’t get far with it since the alphabet was of completely different shapes and symbols that all looked nearly the same.
So he was turning the pages of a book, looking at the drawings and diagrams of magical creatures, mystical herbs, and special enchantments when Merlin finally came back and threw his staff angrily on the ground.
“I take it you were out looking for our friendly magical neighbour?” Arthur looked up from the book.
Merlin ran a hand over his sweaty face and nodded. He walked over and bent to look at what Arthur was reading. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“Can you read this?” Merlin asked in his tongue. Arthur seemed to understand anyway.
“Just looking at the pictures.” He pointed to the drawing of a plant growing out of stone. “Can you do this?”
Merlin took the book from him and sat down cross-legged across from Arthur. He studied the spell carefully and tested the words out. Arthur watched in fascination as Merlin learned the spell.
When Merlin was satisfied in his ability to get it right, he put his hand out in front of him and said the incantation. His eyes glowed gold but nothing happened. Frustrated, he consulted the book again and again, he tried.
It took him five minutes before a crack appeared in the stone floor between them. He knew he’d got it right that time because he heard Arthur gasp. Ever so slowly a leaf sprouted, and then a stem, and then more leaves, until finally a full flower bloomed. Purple lilacs.
“Amazing,” Arthur breathed, caressing the flower between his thumb and forefinger.
Merlin wiped the sweat from his brow and took a sip of water from his pouch, pleased with his work and Arthur’s reaction.
“Though I suppose whatever spell you use to defeat the monster will be much stronger.”
Merlin sighed in frustration. He really needed to learn English, or Arthur needed to learn Dragon Tongue.
Instead of replying, Merlin shuffled over to Arthur’s side and began untying the bandage. The wound had begun to heal nicely and the spell he’d put into the paste made the job quicker. He went to the other side of the room to make more and this time didn’t whisper when he applied the amplification spell.
He rubbed the cream gently into Arthur’s skin like he did the day before then wrapped it in a clean bandage.
Arthur grabbed his wrist. “I meant what I said about coming with me to Camelot.” Merlin tried to get away, fearing where the conversation was headed. “Before I became King, I was ignorant of a lot of things. I was raised to believe that all magic was evil, just as you were taught the same of royalty. You’ve proven to me that this isn’t the case. Let me prove to you that I am a king worthy of your trust. Please, Merlin.”
Merlin stopped resisting but shook his head. “I don’t understand what you’re saying,” he tried to tell him. “Say...less,” he said in English.
Arthur nodded and gripped Merlin harder in his excitement, though he didn’t notice this himself. “You show me magic can be good. I show you kings can be good. Do you understand now?”
Merlin, finally comprehending, nodded with a smile. He was just as excited as Arthur now.
“Up, up,” Merlin ordered, helping Arthur to his feet. He wanted to tell his father.
***
The ball of light Merlin summoned followed them down the dark passages of the cave, which was a lot bigger than Arthur thought. There were small alcoves at every turn, some with piles of vegetables and herbs in them, but most of them empty.
“Where are we going?” Arthur asked for the thousandth time.
Merlin shook his head for the thousand and first.
Finally, they got to the darkest, deepest passage of all, and Arthur found that they seemed to be at the end of a corridor. Ahead of them was a small opening that Merlin walked fearlessly into. But then, he had been raised in these caves and had nothing to be afraid of, unlike Arthur.
With a wave of his hand, a circle of candles were lit and Arthur saw the sitting form of a body at the far end of the room. So this is where Merlin had taken them. His father’s crypt.
Merlin made sure Arthur was steady enough to stand on his own two feet before his kneeled down in front of the corpse.
“Forgive me Father, for disturbing your rest,” Merlin began. “But I have brought someone very important.”
He paused, as if letting the corpse take in the greeting.
“This man is Arthur. He says he is King of Camelot. I think...I think he is my friend.” He threw a smile behind his shoulder at Arthur, who watched warily.
“He’s knows I have magic and he promises not to hurt me. And he wants me to go with him to the city.” Merlin could see the disapproval radiating from the lifeless body. “I know I’ve sworn never to leave the cave. But I don’t want to waste my life here. I don’t feel like I’m meant to be here forever. I want to be with Arthur.”
Arthur perked up at every mention of his name and Camelot and only hoped that things were going well.
“He is a good man. Even if his father was evil, you were wrong about kings. They are not all the same, just as all sorcerers are not the same. I don’t know yet if I’ll go to Camelot. If he lifts the ban on magic maybe I’ll move to a small village or town. But I know nothing of society and its rules and a city would only overwhelm me. Better to start small and work my way up, I suppose.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I promise to avenge you, Father, but I don’t think I can stay here forever as you wished. I’m sorry.”
Merlin had spoken more words in the last few minutes than he had over the last forty-eight hours and Arthur marvelled at how elegant the man’s voice was when he wasn’t tripping over words he didn’t know. The language was certainly beautiful and had a soothing effect to it, that Arthur liked. He wished he could learn it so he could hear Merlin’s voice more.
When Merlin stood and turned to face Arthur, he seemed as if transformed. He stood confidently and smiled broadly. Arthur felt a rush of emotion like no other overcome him and when Merlin opened his arms for a hug, he stepped gladly into the embrace.
***
They passed the remainder of their time together teaching each other bits of the other’s language. They started with expressions. Arthur smiled and pointed to his face.
“Happy.” He frowned and said, “Sad.” He did the same with angry, surprised, afraid, and so on. Merlin repeated the exercise with Dragon Tongue.
Soon the night of the second day came. Merlin redressed Arthur’s bandage for the final time.
“Okay to go tomorrow,” he told Arthur.
Arthur nodded solemnly. “Will you be coming with me?”
Merlin had thought long and hard about his decision. He shook his head. “I stay. Kill beast. You visit if you want. But I stay.”
Arthur nodded again. “Okay.”
He slumped onto his side and put his head on Merlin’s shoulder as he’d taken to doing whenever they had a dull moment. Merlin automatically raised his arm and wrapped it carefully over Arthur’s shoulders.
He turned his head and looked down into Arthur’s sad eyes. “Will always be here. You get hurt, I help again.” He smiled.
Arthur reached up and cupped Merlin’s cheek in his hand. Merlin leaned into the warm touch.
“I like you, Merlin,” he said.
“I like you, Arthur.”
Then Arthur did something Merlin didn’t understand. He pulled Merlin’s face down and pressed his lips against his own. He didn’t know what it was, but he liked it. When their lips parted he pushed them together again, to Arthur’s surprise.
“Bad?” Merlin asked, at Arthur’s sudden intake of breath.
“No, quite the opposite,” Arthur chuckled nervously. “I just want to make sure I’m not...you know what a kiss is right, Merlin?”
“‘Kiss?’” Merlin echoed. Why were they talking again? Why weren’t they putting their lips together? Merlin wanted that to happen again.
“Yes,” Arthur nodded. “What we just did. That’s called a kiss.”
“‘Kiss.’” Merlin tested the word out again. “I like kiss. More kiss?”
Merlin leaned forward again as Arthur laughed. “Okay, okay, calm down. Just take it slow Merlin.”
Merlin rolled his eyes and pointed to himself. “Twenty years in cave, no kiss. Don’t want slow.”
Merlin leaned in again but Arthur put a hand on his chest, much to Merlin’s frustration. “Twenty years? Just how old are you?”
“Twenty and three.”
“Twenty-three! You’re only two years younger than me?”
“Twenty and three, so?”
“Wow, you look...wow, you do have a lot of catching up to do.” And with that, Arthur began to teach Merlin about kissing.
***
It turned out that Merlin was a natural when it came to kissing. They were a bit clumsy when Arthur opened his lips and pushed his tongue into Merlin’s, but soon Merlin was exploring Arthur’s mouth like an expert.
Which is when they ran into their second complication.
Arthur was leaning down over Merlin, placing teasing kisses along his neck and jaw when he ran his hand slowly down the man’s leg and over the impressive bulge of his trousers.
Merlin groaned in pleasure. Never before had he been touched like that. There was a time in his teens of course when he’d experimented with himself a bit, but it was entirely different when it wasn’t his own hand down there.
Wantonly, he arched into the touch and urged Arthur on with his hips. Arthur chuckled naughtily.
“Like that, do you? I suppose if that’s okay then this should be...”
Merlin gasped at the light kiss Arthur placed at his navel. He felt his arousal reach an impossible high.
“Yes,” he said breathlessly. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Merlin.” Arthur looked up at him through thick lashes, eyes blown wild with desire. “Off.” He tugged up on the blue fabric restricting his access to Merlin’s skin.
Nodding, Merlin freed himself of his tunic. The stone was cold against his back but it was contrasted pleasantly by the warmth at his waist.
Arthur ran the tip of his tongue slowly from Merlin’s navel up to his left nipple, making Merlin shiver deliciously underneath him. Then Arthur brought their cocks togethers and the friction undid Merlin completely. He came with a yelp and a flash of his eyes. Somewhere a pot shattered.
“Mmmm, Arthur,” Merlin whined in pleasure.
“Merlin.” He liked the sound of his name in Arthur’s hoarse voice. Arthur got himself off on Merlin’s thigh and spattered the man’s stomach with his royal seed.
Merlin, in his post-coital ecstasy, rubbed the white liquid all over his chest, and licked his hands clean. Arthur sat back on his knees and watched in awe. None of his other partners had done anything quite so odd...or sexy.
Arthur caressed Merlin’s face lovingly and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.
“I really do wish you’d consider coming with me.”
Merlin stared up at Arthur silently, before standing up. He held out a hand and helped Arthur to his feet.
“Are we going somewhere?”
Merlin, always one for keeping the blonde in suspense, just smiled and nodded wickedly.
***
The room was lit with candles like the one in Balinor’s tomb, but the atmosphere was completely different. For one, there was the trickle of water dripping idly into the pool that took up the majority of the space. And there was a small opening near the ceiling that let in the moonlight, giving the ivy and moss that grew along the walls an iridescent green glow to them.
“It’s beautiful,” Arthur remarked. He’d heard and read about hidden springs in caverns such as these but had never seen one for himself. It was a peaceful grotto and he knew instantly why Merlin had been smiling so excitedly on the way down.
Suddenly Merlin’s hands were tugging at Arthur’s tunic, helping him to gently remove it. He took off the bandage; it was unnecessary at this point. He slid off his own pants—he was far too shy to do that for him—and stepped slowly into the water. When he was waist-deep, he turned around and beckoned coquettishly for Arthur to follow.
Arthur was staring at Merlin’s pale, wiry frame, admiring the barely noticeable but definitely present muscles in his arms, back, and (he gulped) legs. When Merlin turned and urged him onward with a wave of his hand, he snapped back to attention and dropped his trousers quickly.
Merlin had disappeared underwater by the time Arthur was in up to his knees. Then the water left of Arthur stirred and Merlin’s head popped up, beads of water dripping from his hair onto his face. With a laugh that echoed off the cave walls he splashed Arthur.
“It’s cold,” Arthur complained, rubbing his arms.
Merlin stood and placed his palms just above the surface of the water. He whispered a short spell and Arthur felt the water heat up. It wasn’t too hot or too tepid.
“Much better,” he said, and walked in up to his neck. Arthur didn’t trust his shoulder’s ability to tread water.
Suddenly he was submerged underwater, held down by an unknown force. After five eternal seconds the force left and he was able to push his head above water again.
He spun around angrily to face a grinning Merlin. At the sincere annoyance in the king’s face he burst into guffaws.
“Find that funny, huh?”
Arthur sprung his good arm on Merlin’s head and pushed him underwater. He held him there for seven seconds until the man’s presence was suddenly gone. He looked around nervously.
“Merlin?”
Then something grabbed his ankle and he lost his footing. He felt himself being pulled deeper and deeper into the water.
He tugged free of Merlin’s grip and with his one arm around the thin man’s waist brought him up above water, lying him flat on his back.
Merlin wrapped an arm around Arthur’s neck and used the other to hold himself afloat. All his skin was revealed, there for Arthur to feast his eyes on.
He stared at the sight before him, drinking in the image of Merlin’s slim, wet, body in the candlelight. Merlin liked Arthur staring at him this way, liked the way Arthur’s gaze touched him all over like gentle fingers that knew what they wanted but weren’t sure if they could take it.
“Touch me,” Merlin encouraged.
Hearing Merlin’s voice like that, desperate and pleading and aching for intimacy, went straight to Arthur’s cock. He raised his other arm slowly, ignoring the dull pain in his shoulder to run his hand lovingly down Merlin’s chest, past his navel, and finally over his half-hard manhood. With a sigh that turned quickly into a groan, Merlin tilted his head back into the water.
“Merlin,” Arthur said, wrapping his fingers possessively around the base. Merlin raised his head and looked up at him. “I want to teach you something else. I want to teach you about sex.”
***
Merlin laid beneath him, back pressed against the blanket that they’d put down so neither would suffer from the cold stone. He held himself up on his good arm while the other held both of their cocks in his hand, stroking them rhythmically. Every so often he’d meet Merlin’s eyes and in a wave of emotion would press a deep kiss onto his lips. Merlin’s hands clawed and scratched at his back, pulling him closer.
And then somehow he ended up on his back with Merlin straddling him and pushing down forcefully, thrusting frantically with his hips. Merlin was wild, like an animal, and Arthur reminded himself that he had been raised in nature after all. It was only natural that he should fuck that way.
There was something exotic about it that drove Arthur mad with lust. The fierce determination in Merlin’s eyes, the hard thrusts that were so rough and hurried that it almost hurt, the clawing, the biting, the fistfuls of hair. Gone were the gentle touches of before.
Arthur had never come so hard in his entire life. And when the pool started boiling with heat, he knew Merlin wasn’t far behind.
***
Mid-morning rolled around and Merlin woke to the sound of birds chirping happily outside. They’d done what Arthur called “sex” long into the night and Merlin was reluctant to wake him while he looked so peaceful.
He dressed and headed outside. After a good ten minutes’ walk he heard something rustling among the trees. Something larger than the average squirrel or deer.
He turned and about ten feet away from him stood the monster, the magical ibex that killed his father.
A million different spells whirled through his head, but it turned out he didn’t need to say anything. Just pushing his hand out in front of him propelled the beast backwards and broke the nearest tree almost in half from the force. Merlin felt his magic well up inside him and with another thrust of his hand he snapped the creature’s horn off at the middle. Then he pushed the pointy end into its eye socket until it collapsed onto its knees in a pathetic heap.
For a moment he thought about dragging the corpse back to the cave and putting it next to his father, but then he heard faint rustling noises again behind him and spotted the red cloaks of the Knights.
“Shit,” he swore. There was no time. He hurried back to the safety of the cave and woke Arthur.
“Merlin?” He grumbled upon waking.
“Knights, Arthur.” Merlin grabbed Arthur’s shirt and threw it into his lap. “You go now. Back to Camelot.”
“Now? What, no breakfast?”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “What do I look like, your servant?” But Arthur still didn’t know enough Dragon Tongue to understand what he’d said. “Knights,” Merlin repeated in English. “Knights search for you. You go. Keep cave secret.”
Arthur nodded as he pulled on his boots. “Right. Keep the cave a secret. Keep your home safe. Got it.” He gestured to his chainmail. “Can you...?”
Merlin helped Arthur to his feet and put the chainmail on over his tunic gently, then handed him his sword.
“Follow,” Merlin ran ahead.
Arthur’s shoulder throbbed as he ran but the pain was manageable. Merlin stopped suddenly when they had been going for a few minutes.
“Shh. They found beast.”
“You killed it?!”
“Shh!”
Arthur peeked from behind Merlin’s shoulder and saw the familiar red cloaks circling the felled creature. He listened to the voices of his friends and longed to join them, but was reluctant to leave Merlin.
Merlin made the decision for him. “Now you go, Arthur.” He pushed Arthur forward.
“Will I see you again?”
Merlin smiled sadly. “I stay in cave. I always stay in cave.”
“I’ll come visit, then.”Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hands in his own.
“Don’t promise.” It’ll hurt too much if you promise, Merlin mentally added.
“I will visit, Merlin.” Arthur caressed his cheek with his thumb. “You have my word as king.”
“Goodbye, you arrogant arse.”
Arthur laughed at the affectionate insult. That was one thing Arthur did remember of Dragon Tongue, since he’d made Merlin tell him what he called him that one time.
“Goodbye, Cave-boy.” He kissed Merlin a final time and turned to face his mates. “Oi, Percival! Leon!” He called.
Merlin had vanished.