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nyxelestia
Title: Burning The Darkness
Rating: M/NC-17
Summary: Merlin left Ealdor for a reason. And that reason's back, in Camelot. Now he has to hide his past and save the prat, er, prince, while hiding the truth behind his fears. His growing magic isn't helping, either. Rating for later chapters.
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Warnings: blood play, burn/fire play, non-con, rape, dub-con, alcoholism, drunk-con, abuse...you get the idea.
Episode warnings: set after 113...so entire first season, basically...
Beta: ![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
jusmine984
Other Chapters
Court Politics and Jungle Law:
“Merlin!”
“Mm?” Merlin groaned, blinking as he brought his head up from where they’d rested on his folded arms. He’d fallen asleep at the table while waiting for Arthur, again.
“Oh, good,” Arthur said, congenially. “You’re not dead.”
Merlin rolled his eyes and got up. “Sorry about that…I take it practice was good?”
Arthur was sweaty, but smiling – which, considering his combat practice was just with Morgana, was strange in and of itself. But Merlin wasn’t about to complain about that.
“Yes, actually,” Arthur said. “Now, you have my bath ready?”
“Yea,” Merlin said, gesturing towards the tub in the smaller chamber, before moving to help Arthur out of his armor and clothes.
“And dinner?” Arthur asked, even more tersely.
“Yes. Now arms up!”
Arthur regarded Merlin carefully, for a moment, before nodding and holding out his arms in his usual position, waiting for Merlin, who quickly complied with the unspoken command, until Arthur was completely naked, and walking towards the tub.
Merlin, of course, was right behind him with the soap and washrag, and silently marveled to himself that he knew of plenty of women – and even quite a few men – who would pay in their limbs to see Arthur as Merlin was seeing right now. Hell, Merlin, himself, while hating most of his duties, often felt that the personal views he got of Arthur’s incredibly handsome body almost made the job worth it. Almost.
Hm…maybe he could arrange for a hole in the wall and start charging people to peep through…
“I should’ve come sooner,” Arthur grumbled, dipping his fingers into the now-cool water. “Damnit.”
Merlin just rolled his eyes as Arthur slipped into the tub. He’d almost heated it up again, a lie about pots and large kettles on his lips, until he saw Arthur throwing knives at a moving cart, from the window.
He’d decided against heating up the water with magic. Let the bastard stew.
While some nobles had their servants bathe them, along with everything else, Merlin counted himself extremely lucky that Arthur didn’t trust him – or anyone, really – enough to allow that. Merlin simply handed him the soap and cloth, and headed out into the main chambers to tidy up the room a bit and set aside the clothes that he would have to carry to the laundry later, and went about magically polishing the armor.
He turned when he heard splashes, and had a dry cloth ready for Arthur as soon as he stepped out.
The rest was easy, until Arthur was dressed and Merlin was taking the dinner tray from the young, new servant, and setting it down in front of Arthur, taking the small plate designated for him and sitting across from the prince.
Merlin wasn’t stupid enough to attempt conversation with the prat until at least half the food is gone. But when it is…
“How’s the new knight?” he asked.
“Bizarre,” Arthur said. “Get my jacket, the green one. He couldn’t hold a sword for twice his weight in gold, but he moves with a knife as if it were a part of him.”
Merlin snorted to himself as he shuffled through Arthur’s wardrobe, having finally figured out how the damn thing was organized. “So, will he be a front rider, middle, or back?”
“Definitely back,” Arthur said as Merlin opened the wardrobe doors. “And have the blue cloak sent for a wash – I need to be present for Father’s announcement, tomorrow night.”
“I heard about that. What’s this I hear about a visiting lord?” Merlin asked. He’d heard it in passing while grabbing a new bar of soap from the servants’ quarters, below. Unfortunately, he’d been in too much of a rush to ask for anything more.
He would really like to know, now – because, quite frankly, visiting nobility always seemed to be bad luck for Arthur.
…That, and it always meant more chores for all the servants, including himself.
“Some lord who owns an almost ridiculous amount of land on the border between Camelot, Mercia, Northumbria, and even touches close to East Anglia…Not to mention, that gives him control of a rather handy oceanic trading route, close to Kent, and in turn, the Gauls. Officially, he’s under Northumbria’s rule. Unofficially, he’s been a great ally of Camelot for quite some time, but otherwise operating under his own terms. Apparently, he’s considering becoming king of his land, starting his own, small kingdom.”
“So…why’s he visiting?” Merlin asked.
“That small a kingdom wouldn’t last long, if it all,” Arthur said, giving Merlin a look that said it should’ve been obvious to him. “He would, at the very least, have to ally with one of us, and ultimately would end up under our rule, again. We might as well make sure it happens to be us.”
Hm…that sounded familiar, actually. If Merlin remembered correctly, this wasn’t too far from Ealdor. Shit, what if this lord had even been a client of his?
Well…it wasn’t like they went through too much trouble to remember whores’ faces outside of the tavern. And apart from running into a few of the local lords every now and then, he rarely saw clients outside of the tavern – and an even smaller fraction of them recognized Merlin.
Outwardly, Merlin nodded, not caring too much, but at least now knowing what kind of increase in chore level to expect: a large one. Even Merlin could figure out that a large piece of land bordering multiple kingdoms would be very strategic, which means Uther would go through incredibly great lengths to politically woo the man.
Which, of course, meant there would be a ridiculously larger chore load for the servants.
Ah, well – Merlin was used to it. By this point, half the time he prepared for visiting nobles without even learning their name until they actually came. Amazing how much a servant can do in a castle and how little they can know in the process.
He distinctly remembered a particular incident when he knew everything about a young noblewoman, ranging from her favorite foods to just how she liked her bed turned down…everything, except her name.
That had turned out awkward. Very awkward.
Arthur, oddly enough, looked rather pleased with the idea of this lord visiting. Merlin could take a few guesses.
“Hoping he’ll bring along some pretty daughter of his?” Merlin asked, dryly, finishing up the last of his bread. While most of Camelot had a few beliefs they liked to keep about the nobles, especially the royalty, and their ‘purity’ and the likes, Merlin knew better. For one thing, it was hard for him to miss the occasional one-off sneaking out of Arthur’s rooms when he brought breakfast in, or Arthur coming back from their rooms.
Not to mention, most of the other servants didn’t miss it, either – and they talked. Even the noblewomen were far from pure. (Gwen knew this for certain about Morgana – as far as Merlin knew, Gwen was rather a part of it.)
“No,” Arthur said, returning the tone. “He’s young…very young, apparently…not much older than us, only a decade off or so…”
Merlin quirked an eyebrow, having a bit more detailed knowledge about Arthur’s ‘romantic’ exploits than most. “Shall I start stocking up on Gaius’s old massage oils in your nightstand, then?”
Arthur threw a small chicken bone at him. “No need to be so crass, Merlin…though it may not be a bad idea…”
“Do you need me to cover for you, again?” Merlin asked, as he started gathering the dishes, after picking up the bone. “I need to know if I should start walking around with an old coat on me just so’s to protect my clothes if I get sent to the stocks, again-”
“Oh, grow up!” Arthur said, though smiling slyly. Merlin just rolled his eyes, balancing the plates, and mentally started trying to calculate just how much he could charge people to watch Arthur shagging through a peephole.
Lady Eurys had often paid Merlin quite a bit for her to just sit back and watch him fucking a barmaid, so Merlin couldn’t help but feel there was a potentially large profit to be made from this. If he didn’t have this stupid honor keeping him from actually doing it…
“Anything else?”
“Yes – that oil,” Arthur said with a smirk.
Okay, maybe that aforementioned honor could be persuaded to turn a blind eye to a magically created peephole in the wall. Maybe the honor and dignity would be willing to take a day of leave for the sake of this endeavor.
Used to this banter by now, Merlin asked simply, “Do you want smooth oil or tingling oil?”
Arthur blinked in surprise. “What?!”
Merlin continued on, as if blithely, “Because I can do some very creative things with these sorts of substances, especially oils, and it’s hard to mix the two but I suppose I can try…I could even add in something along the lines of a muscle relaxant, and I know how that’d be useful-”
“How the hell do you know all this?” Arthur asked, sizing up Merlin yet again.
Merlin grinned again as he walked out the doors. “I have my ways.”
“I’ll bet,” was the last thing he heard Arthur say before the door shut behind him.
~*~
Merlin was right about the chore load.
He hadn’t been there for the formal announcement held a few days later – he rarely ever was – but soon enough, he was being called upon desperately by servants around the castle who knew of his free time, and suddenly, Merlin had almost double his usual chore load.
Even the normal inhabitants of the castle, royals and nobles and others alike, were aware of this, some, if not most, asking for just a touch less of their usual services from the servants.
Morgana was one of them.
Arthur was not.
“…and make sure my clothes are fully pressed – I don’t care how you do it, I really don’t – when I get back, and have a bath ready, too. You don’t have to be here by then, just make sure it’s all laid out.”
Merlin sighed as he finished with Arthur’s bed, and said, “I can heat up water, but I can’t really keep it warm for that long.”
Arthur just nodded. “I suppose I expected as much. Just get it as hot as you can – maybe it will at least be not freezing.”
Merlin nodded again, before scooping up the dirty sheets as he prepared to leave.
Smiling, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial of dark, amber-like oil, and tossed it to the bewildered Arthur.
“Relaxes muscles, tingles, and makes everything…move…much easier,” he said with a smirk, to which Arthur actually blushed slightly, before putting it in the drawer of his nightstand.
Considering how often Arthur humiliated Merlin, Merlin felt justified in taking his very sadistic pleasure at the sight of Arthur’s red face.
Served the bastard right.
“Where the hell did you even get it?”
“Took a massage oil Gaius sometimes sells on the side, added my own secret touch to it,” Merlin said, with a slight grin. “I should really take the batches he can’t use and start modifying them for sale…it’s not like you pay me much.”
Arthur gave him an odd look. “Again, I ask – how do you know-”
Merlin shook his head, and walked out and down to the laundry.
Dropping off the sheets, Merlin dashed back to his rooms, to find Gwen already there, a rag and small bowl of milk waiting and a smile on her face.
Thankful for Gaius’s absence, Merlin and Gwen quickly slipped to his room, and over to the basket just by Merlin’s bed, with a small pup inside.
Merlin had been out practicing turning himself into different animals – he’d finally figured out how metamorph with his clothes still on – when he, in a large snake form, had nearly eaten this poor wolf cub. Rather obviously a runt, the mother had apparently abandoned it in favor of her stronger cubs.
“Have you figured out what kind of dog it is, yet?” Gwen asked, as she started nursing the pup, cooing over him.
He had, but he doubted she’d actually like the breed, so he wasn’t going to tell her just yet. “No.” After all, it would be rather difficult to explain that he’d been practicing turning into animals, and had run across this wolf cub purely by chance.
Not to mention, even if Gwen knew the truth, he wouldn’t really want to explain that he took pity on the runt because he’d nearly eaten.
“What’s that?” Merlin asked, hinting towards the jar of milk and the rag.
“Goat’s milk,” Gwen said, both of them sitting by the little basket. “Morgana uses it whenever she steals the hunting dogs’ runts and nurses them back to health. On that note, I told her about the pup – she’ll keep it quiet.”
Merlin laughed. “I don’t doubt it.”
Gwen just smiled, dipping the corner of the rag into the milk, before handing it to Merlin. “Come on, then.”
Rolling his eyes, the warlock set to work, while also expanding his own mind’s empathic capacity.
Contrary to children’s fancies, animals couldn’t talk. But they could think in a primitive way, like thinking of meat and feeling want or hunger, or remembering a mate-challenger and feeling anger.
Merlin found with a combination of communicative emotions and mental images, talking to animals was actually incredibly easy.
The wolf cub wanted warmth and a full belly and that was all it understood. So Merlin carefully took the rag-wrapped bundle into his lap and fed the poor thing, while Gwen rearranged the basket for the pup’s comfort.
“Have you come up with a name, yet?” Gwen asked.
“Either Tundra, or Cafall,” Merlin said. “Or maybe Storm, for the grey fur?”
Gwen rolled her eyes. “You’re as bad as Morgana. I fear she may have become a bad influence on you, Merlin.”
“Yes,” he said, wryly, ripping the rag in the milk. “Rescuing small, hapless animals and nursing them back to health. How disastrous.”
Gwen giggled, though she tried to hide it out of habit, and said, “Just make sure Arthur doesn’t find out. You will never hear the end of it.”
Later on, he would reflect that he probably should’ve listened to her.
“Anyway,” Gwen said. “Morgana wants to ‘borrow’ the little one. You know how she is with small animals – she’ll nurse it back to health.”
Merlin laughed.
“Sure…after we’re done feeding him.”
“We?”
“I’m done feeding him,” Merlin said, exasperated.
“Between you and Morgana, I get the feeling I’ll be lucky to hold him,” Gwen said.
Merlin just grinned and turned back to the small little creature in his lap. It needed his attention the most.
~*~
“Merlin?” Gaius said the next morning as they sat down for breakfast. “When was the last time we checked your bandages?”
Merlin winced. He hated changing the bandages. Bloody magic fireballs.
“About three days ago.”
Gaius gave him a pointed look, and Merlin sighed, but finished his breakfast and moved to his room to obediently sit on his bed. Pulling off his shirt, he held his arms up as Gaius unrolled the bandages, and Merlin looked down at this chest.
The burn mark was actually almost patterned – it rather looked like a Druid Sól tattoo, except in singed skin instead of ink. The skin was a smooth, opaque black, with pink around the edges…and was looking more and more like ink every day.
But, it was still a burn, and most definitely felt like one, too.
“Why’s it taking so long?” Merlin muttered. “I normally heal-”
“It’s a magical wound, Merlin!” Gaius said, exasperated, as he quickly cleaned the wound.
As Merlin rubbed the lavender oil in – and hoped the poultice would cover the smell, knowing just how much Arthur could use it to tease Merlin if he caught a whiff – Merlin said, “This pattern almost looks like it was on purpose.”
“You were hit by a ball of fire, Merlin,” Gaius said. “I suspect that the tattoos you sometimes see on this are based on balls of fire – which the sun can sometimes appear to be, if you ask me. Now, arms up.”
Merlin nodded and waited as the comfrey and beavertail poultice was applied, then wrapped his bandages, himself, as Gaius said, “And your magic? I would not be surprised if there was a specific intent to this ‘ball of fire.’”
“It feels good, actually,” Merlin said. “Like more powerful or something.”
Gaius frowned. “More…powerful? You hadn’t mentioned that before.”
“I didn’t notice it, before,” Merlin said, honestly.
Gaius frowned, again, before saying, “Did you two have a lot of bloody wounds at the time?”
Merlin frowned. “Er…no. Why?”
“So you two couldn’t have possibly traded blood on accident?” Gaius asked.
Slightly alarmed, Merlin shook his head. “No…why?”
Gaius sighed. “I will have to read through some more tomes before I can make heads or tails of this, then.”
Merlin frowned. “Gaius, what’s-”
“I’ll inform you when I figure it out!” Gaius said. “Now go – I understand you’re helping prepare Lord Lindsey’s chambers?”
Lord Lindsey…why did that sound familiar?
Damn, Merlin was really starting to dread this. It would be the first time in his time in Camelot that someone could potentially recognize him.
All of a sudden, he was really glad he was a servant…
…which was really saying something, considering-
Lindsey.
Oh, shit.
“Gaius,” Merlin asked, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. “It’s Lord Cain Lindsey, right?”
“…did you forget the noble visitor’s name again? It’s bad form, Merlin!”
“Is it?”
“Yes! Now go, go!”
Merlin nodded numbly as he left.
Shit. This was not good.
-
“These bruises are brutal,” Will said. “They’re almost as bad as the ones on your wrists.”
“I know,” Merlin said. “Just put on the ointment and let’s get this over with.”
“Right…but seriously, these burns…”
“Lord Cain is a very perverted bastard – let’s just leave it at that, please?”
“How, Merlin?” Will asked, pausing for a moment as he looked over these analytically. “I mean, I know you told me about the candle wax and all, but…these almost look like…well, definitely not candle wax, or candle burns…they almost look like…fire pokers!”
Merlin took in a shaky breath. “Leave it, Will.”
“Merlin-”
“I said leave it.”
Even as Will started rubbing in the healing paste again, he asked desperately, “Is that man using iron pokers or something on you?”
“No.”
“Then how-”
“He’s magic, all right?” Merlin said. “He pays me extra to hurt me.”
-
This was really not good.
~*~
A small fox ran almost blindly through the forest, little feet pounding through the leaves as it tried to work off the immense restlessness that prompted this escapade in the first place.
Coming back to a rock he’s already passed, Merlin returned human, again, breathing heavily, and as soon as his thoughts strayed towards undesirable directions
-Cain’s going to be in Camelot-
-he changed shapes yet again, this time to a snake, despite the chilly air, and slid along the ground towards the small boulder along the way. He got on top of it and looked around, returning to his human form, only vaguely glancing at the slope behind him, for the most part focusing on the forest in front of him. His breathing was still heavy and ragged as he took the sights in, doing his best to focus on a plant or a tree and reaching out with his magic and his mind to connect with it, if only just long enough to keep his own mind occupied.
The universe was conspiring against him. Just when everything had started to settle down, to work in his favor – this had to happen.
It was bloody why he had left Ealdor in the first place.
“Damnit,” Merlin muttered out loud, before promptly turning into a cat, curling into a little ball around the herbs pouch for Gaius, before the cat sighed and turned into a large bird. The hawk grabbed the herb pouch and flew off in the direction of Camelot, and back to its duties, which he now hoped would be plentiful enough to distract him from this nightmare in waiting.
Down below, the man smirked at the hawk, shook his head to himself, and turned back towards where he came from.
~*~
Next Chapter
A/N: Guess who the man is. :D
If anyone is interested at all, lavender oil was used as painkiller for deep-skin burns, comfrey was a sort of catchall herb used on burns, while beavertail has painkilling properties which also have effects that hasten healing. At least, according to medieval doctors, anyway. ^_^ Also, the ‘Druid’ tattoo reference is my own sly of hand towards Celtic tattoos.
Anyway, I’m off to go finish all my summer homework in one day. Should be easy…I have to read a novel, a play, four chapters of the textbook, memorize all fifty American states, their capitals, and all the geology and geography of the North American continent and review all irregular Spanish verbs. _ School hasn’t even started yet and I’m already regretting the advanced classes. The only not-advanced class I have is my freakin’ drawing class!
So, while I’m off committing suicide by homework, do be kind and drop a few lines on the chapter, so I have something to look forward to when I’m done? *pouts* Pweeze? Pwetty pweeze? With a honey lathered Merlin and Arthur cherry on top?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-09-08 10:48 pm (UTC)Don't die too much by homework and update soon.
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Date: 2009-09-09 12:11 am (UTC)Updating, I can do. Avoiding dying by homework, not so much.
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Date: 2009-09-09 01:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-09 05:26 am (UTC)Anyway, I'm glad to hear you like this, and I do promise to keep this up. ^_^
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Date: 2009-09-09 03:08 am (UTC)Anyway, before I go off to kill myself by homework, I wanted to say that I love the Merlin angst. Hopefully some Cain/Merlin confrontation and Protective!Arthur coming up. Ohhh, the fun!
Wow, I'm awful.
w.w.w.
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Date: 2009-09-09 06:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-09 05:47 am (UTC)Also, you should name the wolf pup Cafall just because...
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Date: 2009-09-09 06:14 am (UTC)As for Arthur's involvement - all I'm going to say is that this story is as much about Arthur as it is about Merlin.
And...*gives you cookie* You're the first person to catch the Cafall thing! ^_^
no subject
Date: 2009-09-09 07:23 am (UTC)Oh, now I'm really nervous.
As for Arthur's involvement - all I'm going to say is that this story is as much about Arthur as it is about Merlin.
All right, I'll take that. Can't wait to see what happens next. :)
And...*gives you cookie* You're the first person to catch the Cafall thing! ^_^
I think that name's associated with Arthurian legend, I'm not sure. I just know the name from Susan Cooper's "The Grey King" where it mentioned that Cafall was the name of Arthur's dog. And that book, along with others in the series, dabbles in Arthurian legend.
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Date: 2009-09-10 03:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-09 01:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-10 04:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-09 03:01 pm (UTC)Great job so far.
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Date: 2009-09-10 04:23 am (UTC)As for Cain...well, I've already got him all planned out, and I must say, he is a very...fun...character. ^_^
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Date: 2009-09-10 12:33 am (UTC)poor arthur's not going to know what hit him when he tries to seduce cain! and merlin will be battling his own demons so he won't be as much help as he otherwise might be. Oooh wait, will he be hurting them both at once? NO! BAD angeliss! It's not nice to hurt the pretty boys!
ahem
anyhoo
can't wait to read more.
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Date: 2009-09-10 04:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-12 01:35 am (UTC)ASOTA
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Date: 2010-02-02 09:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-03 04:25 pm (UTC)The teasing Arthur scene was very amusing, as was the scene with the wolf cub (Morgana and Merlin must be the most over-protective pet owners anywhere).
Well, it looks like change is coming to Camelot.
Good chapter.
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Date: 2011-01-03 08:31 pm (UTC)