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English
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Part 9 of you Draw it, i Breathe it Words
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Published:
2020-09-29
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1,920
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1/1
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My Sun, my Golden shining light, may you still glow upon the Morrow~

,

Summary:

all Uther does is break and destroy and it's up to Merlin to pick up the pieces each and every time.

Notes:

all the thanks to the incredibly amazing Pelydryn for a beta read.
thank you so so so much, precious!!!
xoxoxo

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

~x~

He’s going to snap, Merlin thought, watching his Prince stand tall and stoic, listening to the king - his damned father - rail into him in front of the entire court. Merlin wasn’t listening to what that ditch fodder was spouting. It didn’t matter too much, to be honest. Uther only had so many different speeches when it came to chewing out his only son and heir, and he shuffled through them periodically. Did this wrong did that wrong too weak too compassionate such a disgrace to crown and me -- blah.blah.blah.

Merlin had tuned him out on approximately word number two. All he looked at, all he cared about, was his Prince and the state he was going to be in by the end of this rant.

Merlin chanced a glance over Uther’s shoulder where a frozen-in-place Morgana stood, the ever-faithful Gwen at her side. Morgana was looking vaguely ill. Gwen, ah, sweet lovely Gwen… judging by her expression alone, Merlin could feel defensive sparks come alive beneath his skin. He bit down a growl, his eyes snapping back to his Prince. To anyone else, he would have looked a picture of calm indifference, as he stood there, just… taking the abuse vomited all over him... by his father. To anyone, that is, who was not Merlin. Merlin could see the tension in his Prince’s shoulders. He could see the minute tremble in his arms, clenched behind his back. There was a slight throb of a vein on his neck as well that was not promising anything even remotely good.

Merlin stifled a sigh - this one would be hard. It was moments like this that he wished, rather desperately, to just… sic his dragon on the king. Well, not the King , but the tyrant currently occupying the throne that did not belong to him in the least.

Emrys.

Merlin flinched. Good gods but he hated mindspeech. What.

Control yourself. 

Merlin blinked, he wasn’t aware he was… oh, oh crap. There was a slight shimmer in the air, which, at Merlin’s best guess? His rage was beginning to manifest. He took a deep breath and let it out smoothly. The shimmer subsided and then dissipated completely. Thank you, Mordred.

The response sounded eager and giddy when it came moments later. Anytime, Emrys, I’m always glad to be of assistance!

Merlin bit down a chuckle - Mordred had never lost the hero-worship he had going on. Even aloud he sounded like an adorable and always eager to please puppy. It, however ridiculous, still never failed to annoy Arthur. Speaking of whom. Merlin turned his focus to his Prince again and cursed internally - Arthur was turning paler by the moment and Merlin was this close to a bloody diversion, magical or otherwise, just to get him out of the throne room.

Thankfully, the king seemed to be finally running out of steam. One breath, two, and the Prince was bowing low, turning on his heel and leaving briskly. 

Merlin considered it a personal achievement when he followed after his Prince without turning the ditch fodder into… actual ditch fodder. He might, however, have projected said wish a bit too loudly, since when they were passing by the Knights that were lining the walls, he saw Mordred very much choking on an extremely inappropriate bout of laughter.

Merlin sent him a Look and the poor boy looked so chastised he damn near darted right out of line, probably in an effort to apologise. Thankfully, Gwaine managed to nab him by the collar and pull him back. Merlin tossed Gwaine a quick thank you i owe you a tankard look, and Gwaine winked in response.

~x~

Merlin cursed as he rushed down one corridor after the next. Arthur, when in a mood like this, always did his power-walk, which, on a good day, meant that Merlin had to rush and on a bad day? Well, good thing tracking charms were a thing, was all Merlin had to say on that topic.

He finally managed to catch up to his Prince because he knew all the shortcuts. That is not to say that Arthur didn’t, but he wasn’t exactly thinking straight at the moment, so Merlin had the definite advantage.

His tracking charm led him down one of the abandoned corridors that Arthur favored when he was feeling especially broody. Merlin slowed his pace, wanting to give his Prince a few moments to collect himself. After counting to sixty thrice, Merlin turned a corner and saw his Prince, slumped against a wall in an alcove, looking over the forest in the distance.

Merlin’s eyes glowed gold, and privacy and perimeter spells both were cast in the space of a breath. A light shudder ran down Arthur’s spine, his usual reaction to feeling Merlin’s magic. It never ceased to amaze Merlin, Arthur’s sensitivity to his casting. It was astounding, all things considered, just how long it had taken for the magic to come to the surface. Still, they were out in the open now, just like the rest of Merlin’s secrets, and they were both all the happier for it.

At least, Merlin hoped.

He stood there, behind his Prince, and watched him watching over his kingdom. He was bathed in the golden rays of the setting sun. His golden Prince watching over his golden kingdom. Merlin smiled. Walking over, he wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist and plopped his chin on his shoulder.

For a moment Arthur stood completely still, and Merlin had half a mind to step away again, to offer him more space, but then his Prince was raising his arms and wrapping them over Merlin’s, and Merlin relaxed. As if unable to do so before, Arthur leaned into Merlin’s arms now, releasing a shuddering exhale.

“Sire---” Merlin started, not quite sure himself what it was exactly that he could even say, but Arthur turned in his arms, an expression so open, so hurt and vulnerable, words died in Merlin’s mouth. He swallowed instead, and when Arthur raised his hands to cup his jaw, he leaned into the touch, turning his head and kissing his Prince’s palm softly. And then he straight up panicked, because Arthur’s eyes were welling up with tears, and Merlin was not equipped to handle something like that. This was Arthur, Arthur the Unshakeable, Arthur the Unmovable, Arthur the Emotions-What-is-Emotions-I-think-I’m-allergic Arthur. And for his father to have been the one to get him to this state?

I am going to kill the king, Merlin thought, calm as can be. He might have felt a spike of panic coming from Mordred at that, but he didn’t particularly care at the moment. He had a Prince to take care of and to put back together.

~x~

First things first - Merlin fortified the wards around their little alcove. He let his magic spill from him, let Arthur watch it happen. Let his Prince feel the magic surround the alcove and them, rushing over his skin in a caress, as soft and gentle as Merlin’s fingers were over his skin on the dark, quiet nights. The nights that they had with only themselves, apart from the rest of the castle and court and the kingdom. Merlin cherished those nights. Judging by the hint of the soft smile on Arthur’s face, so did he.

Merlin took a deep breath. Turned to face his Prince, who was watching him with his expression still as open and as vulnerable as before, and Merlin just... knew . Knew what to say, even if it wasn't going to be quite what the Prince would want to hear.

“You know I didn't hear one word he spouted. Not one. There was no way I could have listened, what with you in front of me, all radiant, all strong and so, so brave.”

Arthur snorted at that, his hands falling to his sides and his gaze sliding off Merlin and to the view behind the window.

Merlin was having none of that, however. He placed his fingertips under Arthur’s jaw and turned his face gently towards himself. “You are, you know. You stood there, listening to the abuse he was throwing at you and held your head high. He could not make you bend. He could not break you. Like he never could. Like he never will. You, you are magnificent, my golden King. And I will never stop reminding you of said fact.”

A single teardrop ran down Arthur’s cheek. Merlin leaned in and kissed it away.

“What do you want?” he whispered into his Prince’s ear, nuzzling under his jaw, mouthing on his neck and making him shudder. 

Arthur gasped, pulled Merlin closer, their bodies aligning, sending sparks from every point of contact.

“What do you want, darling?” Merlin purred again, gently inserting a leg in between Arthur’s, giving his Prince something to move against.

Arthur whined, pulled against Merlin’s tunic, smushed his face into the crook of Merlin’s neck and when he spoke, the sorcerer had to strain his ears to hear him.

“You. I want…” he hesitated and Merlin hurt . He knew what his Prince was going to ask for. They’ve only done it that way a few times and Arthur still had problems, just, asking, and it killed Merlin, but… well. His mother always said, if you can’t talk about it, you should very well not be doing it. So. He rubbed soothing circles over Arthur’s back and waited. His patience was rewarded when a few deep breaths later, the Prince spoke again.

“I want you in me.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but Merlin heard him clear as day. And so he smiled and kissed the temple of his brave brave Prince, and he hummed in reply.

“Of course, darling, whatever you want…”

They went slow, hands running over clothes, just… touching. Merlin was kissing whatever part of Arthur he could reach, while the Prince sighed his encouragement in tiny sounds. Merlin hoarded each and every one of them.

And when he turned them, leaned Arthur’s back against the wall and tried to pull away, the Prince whined and snuggled closer and Merlin’s heart damn near stopped. This… touchy, cuddly part of Arthur was so new, so rare, Merlin felt his hands trembling where he touched him. Still, a moment or an age later, their pants were lowered, and if that were luck more than skill, well. And the windowsill was warmed by the setting sun as well as a spell, whispered against Arthur’s skin.

Merlin lowered his Prince on it, and Arthur wrapped a leg around Merlin’s waist. The angle wasn’t perfect, but magic was a wondrous, beautiful thing, and soon enough Arthur was gasping into his neck as Merlin moved inside his Prince.

Their pace was unhurried, their arms never leaving each other’s skin. Merlin’s neck was wet, and so he tightened his grip around Arthur and kissed him and kissed him and kissed him. His shoulder, his neck, his jaw and cheek and forehead, not a spot was left untouched. And when they came, with slow cresting and soft sighs, Merlin looked at the man in his arms and saw a golden King. A golden King of a golden kingdom. And there, in the silence of a secret alcove, witnessed by none but the Sun’s setting rays, a man that was magic and yet more human than any other made an oath - to always stay by this golden King’s side and to make sure that he never, ever stopped shining.

~x~



 

Notes:

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xoxoxo

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