Chapter Text
Arthur was fourteen years old when he met Emrys. Emrys (or Merlin as he insisted to be called) was eleven. His father had told him to meet him in the throne room. When he got there, King Balinor was in his throne and next to him was a boy with a mop of curls he had never seen before. He joined his father's side, greeted the king with a bow and a “Your Highness,” then stared at him expectantly but not in a challenging way. He resisted the urge to peek a glance at the boy. King Balinor nodded at him solemnly then spoke loudly and clearly. “Sir Arthur, you have proven to be a wonderful and skilled knight, despite your young age.” he said. Uther allowed himself to smirk with pride only for a fleeting second but Arthur did nothing of the sort. “You're also the son of one of my most trusted knights,” he glanced at Uther for a moment, “Therefore I'm trusting you with my son, Merlin. You will address him as Emrys.” he finished. He placed a heavy hand on the boy's head. Arthur finally allowed himself to look at the boy who was blinking at him innocently.
“My prince, Emrys.” Arthur said and bowed deeply. When he looked up, Merlin was smiling at him.
Arthur's first thought when he met Merlin was how pale he was and how striking his features were. He was pretty in an odd way—big elfin ears, big blue eyes lined with spiky lashes, pump lips and cheekbones. He was a slight little thing and looked like a trip would break him. He remembered after the meeting, Uther had led him to a corner to tell him, “You must be gentle with Emrys.” And he kept drilling this into his mind up until the day he died. Arthur didn't know if he meant it physically or mentally—probably both. But Merlin had proven to be stronger than he looked in both aspects.
For one, Merlin was a trouble maker. He always seemed to be getting hurt in some way and was extremely clumsy which would lead to Uther reprimanding him for not pillowing every one of Emrys' steps. Another thing, the little prince had a temper. He could be sweet, there was no doubt about that, but he could also be a brat. He called Arthur all sorts of made-up names but Arthur brushed them off coolly. His father had taught him to keep his emotions in check though sometimes Arthur felt like taking the boy to his knee and spanking him soundly.
Thankfully, as Merlin grew he matured and was less of an annoying little prince. He was shy around the age of thirteen, blushing every time a boy noticed him or someone complimented him. His voice cracked and he grew tall but gangly. His magic had strengthened and was most impressive. Arthur knew he'd make a fine warrior but Balinor didn't seem to want him to even step foot in the armory or training grounds. God knows what sort of trouble the boy would get into. Balinor believed that learning to use his magic for defense and healing was enough but Arthur secretly disagreed. However, it was not his place.
When Merlin was around fourteen, the boy began to have a little crush on Arthur. It was to be expected, really. The boy was young and Arthur handsome and with him every second of his life. He stuttered every time Arthur addressed him and blushed when he was caught staring. Arthur was a little uncomfortable at first, but accepted it. At least Merlin isn't trying to seduce me, was his consolation. That would be very complicated in many ways. King Balinor would have his head.
When Merlin turned fifteen, Arthur began to notice Merlin in a different light. By now, Merlin is lovely and less awkward. Arthur started noticing the little things about him—how he bit his lip, the dimples on his cheeks, his hands and how slender they are, his fine nose, how his hair curls at the back of his neck and around his ears. At night, Arthur's mind was haunted by his eyes, lips, and sweet scent. He would dream of him sometimes but Arthur was not revealing any of his dreams. All he could say was that King Balinor would send him to the chopping block for such images, after Uther had whipped him senseless. He talked to the closest person that resembled a friend—Leon, a red haired knight slightly older than him whom he trained with and sometimes talked to.
“I dream of this beautiful boy sometimes at night.” Arthur told Leon. Leon looked interested as he continued but never revealed said boy's name.
“Do you know who he is?” Leon asked him when he finished. Arthur hesitated. He doesn't want Leon to know the boy is Merlin and he doesn't want him to grow suspicious.
“I saw him once in town.” he lied. Leon hummed then smirked at him with a twinkle of his eyes.
“Seems to me like you fancy the boy.” he said. Arthur was stunned.
“I what?” he asked. Leon chuckled and punched his arm.
“So you are human after all.” he said. “I was beginning to fear you knew no such thing as love.” he said, sounding relieved.
“Love?” Arthur bristled. “Now wait just a moment—” No way he was in love with Merlin!
“It's nothing to be ashamed of, Arthur.” Leon said. “I was in love once, too. Her name was Gwen.” he sighed in a melancholy manner. “Alas, she was not for me.” He glanced at Arthur who looked horrified. “Don't worry, it's probably just a silly infatuation. It'll come and go.” he said, touching his shoulder as he passed by him.
Arthur eventually came to accept that he was besotted with Merlin, though he tried to stamp out his feelings for him. He was colder than usual and would only speak to Merlin when needed. The boy noticed this and would try to engage in conversation but Arthur would only respond with a grunt or a bland answer. Merlin started to worry for him. One day, the boy ordered him to sit and scooted close to him so that they're thighs were touching. Arthur tensed when Merlin placed a hand on his shoulder. “Arthur, are you mad at me?” Merlin asked him softly. The blonde man turned to look at him. He felt his heart clench when he saw his sad eyes and earnest look.
“No, your highness.” he answered curtly. Merlin looked wounded and Arthur was starting to feel bad.
“Please tell me if I've upset you.” he said.
“Of course, your highness.”
“You're dismissed.”
Arthur stood up to leave. Then he froze when he heard a sniffle. He put his ear to the door and heard Merlin sob quietly. Arthur's stony facade softened. He sighed. He'd have to make it up to the little prince somehow.
The next day, Merlin found a simple note from an anonymous sender.
You're prettier when you smile
-AP
Merlin ended up smiling widely and clutching the note close to his chest.
At the age of sixteen, Merlin is betrothed to a scoundrel of a prince named Gwaine. Arthur hated him with all his heart. Gwaine was flirtatious and bold. He liked to tease, his favorite target being Arthur. The drunkard jokingly calls him Merlin's shadow or the Crow because of how he follows him everywhere and wears nothing but black. He meant no harm, really, but he's an idiot and is not worthy of Merlin (according to Arthur). He noticed the looks Gwaine gave to other men and women. Merlin doesn't see it but Arthur does. A man like that would leave a line of bastards and would only break Merlin's heart.
Arthur couldn't be more wrong, even if Gwaine gave that sort of impression. Gwaine might be a flirt, but he'd never cheat on Merlin. He genuinely loved the boy and even looked forward to their wedding day (and night, the drunkard jeered and for that Arthur wanted to strangle him.) The worst part is that the crush Merlin used to have on him faded and his attention was now on Gwaine. Pretty but stupid Gwaine. Merlin didn't deserve an idiot for a husband. He deserved someone who's known him for years, someone who understood him, someone who spent years of his life protecting him...
Merlin deserved Arthur, not Gwaine. But Arthur was just his knight, Merlin was a prince. As long as there were eligible men for Merlin to marry, Arthur had no chance to have his hand in marriage. Even if Arthur rid Merlin of Gwaine, there would be another prince to take him.
Arthur had been looking for Merlin for over an hour. He was starting to lose his patience. Where was that insolent boy? He entered Merlin's room but didn't see him there. He was about to leave when he heard a light giggle. His hand slowly closed around the handle of his sword. With silent steps, he made himself over towards the balcony. The curtains were drawn so he couldn't see who was behind them. He raised a hand and parted them. He felt himself freeze from shock. Merlin and Gwaine were extremely close to each other. Gwaine's hand was on Merlin's hip. “We finally lost your guard dog.” Gwaine said . Merlin snorted and swatted at him.
“Don't call him that. He's more than my bodyguard. He's my friend.” he said in a fond manner.
“Careful, Merlin. I might get jealous.” Gwaine warned. Merlin giggled.
“Well, I did used to have a crush on him.” Arthur's heart fluttered at his words. Merlin sighs sadly. “But, he's never looked at me in that manner. I think he knew that I used to like him, he grew cold towards me.” Merlin grew sad. Gwaine raised his face by taking his chin.
“I'd never do that to you.” he said. Then they were passionately embracing with their lips locked. He couldn't look away from the hurtful sight. Merlin looked so calm and Gwaine was holding him like he was something delicate and precious. It enraged Arthur. He wanted nothing more but to take out his sword and cut off Gwaine's head and bathe in his blood. Instead, all he does is simply back away and sneak out.
That night he can't sleep. All he sees is Merlin and Gwaine kissing. It drove him crazy. The next morning, Merlin was with Gwaine again. They didn't separate for a single moment. It was clear to Arthur that they were in love. And he needed to do something about that before it was too late, before Merlin married Gwaine, before little brats started popping up and running all over the place. He had a plan but...but he wasn't sure if it would work. And even if he did, he'd need help and lots of it. He fought with himself—thinking of carrying out his plan somehow then rejecting it. It put him in a bad mood, and Merlin and Gwaine's longing glances and lingering touches didn't help either. If it was possible, Arthur grew colder and angry. He hacked away at the practice dummies until they were in pieces and destroyed any knight that dared to duel with him. Not much wanted to anymore, they grew afraid of him. As Arthur stood panting and fuming, he heard a silky voice.
“Temper, temper.” said the voice of a woman, followed by the clicking of a tongue. Arthur rolled his eyes and growled.
“Morgana.” he said. Of course his sister would turn up when he's in a bad mood. Morgana floated over to him and eyed the dummy with a critical eyebrow.
“What's got you all riled up, little brother?” she asked him with a ruby smile.
“It's none of your concern.” Arthur barked at the raven haired woman. Morgana hummed.
“Maybe. But I bet I can guess what has the Crow so angry.” she chuckled richly. Arthur bristled at the nickname. It was the stupid nickname the ever-so-witty Prince Gwaine came up with. He despised it as much as he hated that idiot prince.
“I'm guessing it's a certain...prince that's ruffling your feathers?” Morgana's voice cut through his mind like steel. Arthur tensed and didn't answer. How had she known? He really shouldn't be so surprised, Morgana was a very sharp woman. Morgana began to circle him. “Hit the mark, didn't I?” Morgana drawled. Once again, Arthur was silent. “It's understandable, you know. Prince Gwaine is not fit to run a kingdom.” Morgana hissed. Arthur was beginning to see where Morgana was going with this. “A fool is what he is. What Ealdor needs is someone stronger with an iron grip and a strategic mind to conquer Camelot and all of the other kingdoms.” she said passionately. “But that's not what you care about, is it? What you want is the pretty little prince.” She stopped in front of her brother, green eyes wide and mad. “What you want is Emrys.” Arthur didn't bother to deny it anymore. He had been doing that for too long.
“It is true.” he sighed, dejected. “I love him with all my heart.” he confessed. Morgana laughed cruelly.
“I didn't know that cold, black lump buried in your chest was a heart, little brother.” she said. Arthur glared at her but the woman was not stirred. “Still, Emrys must be some boy to make you fall in love with him.” she said. “Only problem is, that foolish prince is to have him in marriage, in his bed.” Arthur tightened his hand around his sword. “I believe we can help each other, Arthur.” she said. Arthur felt his heartbeat pick up at what she was suggesting.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked. Morgana smirked.
“I want to be the High Queen, Arthur. I want it bad. And you want pretty Emrys more than anything, correct?” Arthur nodded. “I propose we work together to get what we want—I'll take care of planning an attack on Ealdor and all you have to worry about is protecting Emrys—which you already do—and taking him wherever your black little heart wishes and lock him there for how ever long you wish.” It sounded good. A little too good. There had to be a catch, something Morgana wasn't telling him.
“I don't see how you need me. Tell me what you're thinking, Morgana.” he said. Morgana curled her lip and sighed in a defeated manner.
“Fine.” she said, then cursed under her breath. “I admit if we were to battle, I'm not sure if I would win and I can't risk that.” she spat. “I think it'd be better if you were on my side than opposing me, especially if your precious Emrys' safety is concerned.” Arthur had to admit, she had a good point.
“I'm glad you thought this out.” he said dryly.
“So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?” she asked. Arthur thought. To be honest, he never really cared much for Ealdor. When they had arrived here from Camelot, he had been angry at his father. That is, until he met Merlin. He was the only one he cared for, and Gwaine was proving to be a pest. With all that in mind, he answered, “Yes.” in a stern manner. Morgana smiled wider than she had smiled before.
“Good.” she said, then turned with a swirl of her skirts. “Pleasure doing business with you. We shall discuss things shortly.”
Later that day, Gwaine had finally went back to his own castle. At last, Arthur had Merlin all for himself. The boy was preparing for bed, wearing a simple white night shirt and no trousers. His long, lean, white legs were on display for Arthur to greedily eye. But the boy didn't go to sleep immediately. He sighed like a heartsick maiden and leaned against the balcony. The wind ruffled his curls. Arthur sneaked up behind and watched the boy bathe in the moonlight. He looked like something out of a fairy tale, a creature so bewitching it drove any person that lied their eyes on him to go mad with lust.
“Oh, Gwaine.” Merlin sighed. He thoughtfully thumbed a necklace that Gwaine had gifted him with. Arthur felt his heart clench. Why? Why did Merlin love him so much? He couldn't understand and it made him ache. Arthur admired Merlin's beauty for a little while longer, then cleared his throat. He relished the little gasp and jump the boy gave when he was caught pining. “A-Arthur.” Merlin said, cheek's bright. The boy was too adorable when embarrassed.
“Merlin, you must sleep.” he said. “Tomorrow is another day.” Merlin nodded and walked back inside his room. He tucked Merlin in, as if he was still eleven years old, and sat on the bed. He stroked the boy's fringe away from his bright eyes. Merlin leaned into his touch with a little hum.
“Arthur?” the boy asked. His eyes were now closed.
“Yes, sire?”
“Have you ever been in love?”
Arthur froze at the question. He felt the strong urge to say the truth. “Yes, I have.” Still am, he didn't dare add. Merlin's eyes flapped open.
“Really?” He sounded surprised. He sat up eagerly. “Who did you love?” Arthur could tell the boy was thirsty for a story. He couldn't deny his precious little bird anything.
“It was a very beautiful boy.” he answered. Merlin titled his head.
“What happened to him?”
“He's never seen me as a lover, only as a big brother.” Merlin didn't seem to catch what he meant, but he looked sincere and sad.
“How cruel!” he exclaimed. Arthur laughed at his obliviousness.
“Indeed.” he agreed. Merlin hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. Arthur felt himself flush warm. “I hope you find someone. No one deserves to be alone.” Arthur hesitated. He wanted to hug Merlin back but he was afraid. Merlin didn't seem to be bothered, though. He lied on his back again and closed his eyes. “Sleep, little bird.” he whispered and kissed his cheek. After some consideration, he leaned over chastely kissed Merlin's lips. They were soft and sweet. He longed for more but that would have to do for now.
Today was The Day. Today he and Morgana were going to carry out with their attack. Arthur couldn't believe it. Had it really been so long? His heart was pounding the whole time. Everything and everyone seemed so normal. No one, besides he and Morgana, had any idea what was going to happen when night fell. Arthur couldn't concentrate that well. All he could think of was Merlin and keeping him safe, away from Ealdor.
Finally, the sky darkened. Everyone in Ealdor was preparing to sleep. Everyone except Arthur and Morgana, that is. The woman had pulled him away into a dark corner and whispered to him to remember their plan. Arthur pushed her away and walked to Merlin's room. He would see the boy to bed, it was part of their nightly ritual. That is, until Gwaine started visiting but he wasn't here now. Thank the Gods. Arthur arrived to Merlin's chambers. The room was dimly lit with magically floating candles. Merlin enchanted them to stay like that because they were 'very pretty'. He found Merlin's figure and stopped cold. The boy was naked. Arthur knew he should look away, but he couldn't. His lust got the best of him. He had longed for that long, pale body. He wanted to taste him, to fuck him...
Merlin continued on. He picked up his loose nightshirt and put it on, oblivious of Arthur. At least, until he looked up to see the older boy staring at him with such intensity. Merlin gasped and flushed a bright pink. “A-Arthur!” Arthur snapped out of his trance and flushed as well, though he tried to keep a neutral face.
“I-I'm sorry, Your Highness. I didn't mean to startle you.” he said. He felt stupid for allowing himself to stammer. “I just wanted to see you to bed.”
“D-did you see anything?” Merlin asked him. Arthur rolled his eyes.
“Sire, I have had to throw you into a bath more than once in your boyhood. It's nothing I haven't seen.” he said, thanking the Gods he sounded natural this time. Merlin pouted and forgot about his embarrassment.
“Tuck me in?” he said with a cock of his head. Arthur's heart melted at the puppy-like gesture. Or kitten. Merlin was more feline than canine.
“Of course, your Highness.” Arthur said. He sat next to the bed and Merlin jumped on it and squealed like a five year old. Arthur allowed himself a chuckle. The young prince nestled himself on the bed and blinked his big eyes at the young knight. Arthur pulled the covers up to his chin then stroked Merlin's cheek softly.
Merlin sighed and nuzzled into his hand like a little kitten. Arthur's cheeks heatened a little. He longed to take the boy in his arms, but he was afraid. Why was he so afraid? Merlin wouldn't turn him away. He was very affectionate. If he did hug him, Merlin would probably welcome it. By this point, Arthur had convinced himself a hug wouldn't hurt anybody, even if he was probably going to feel insanely stupid afterwards. “Come here.” he said softly and extended his arms towards the boy. Merlin looked shocked for a moment, which worried Arthur, but then he smiled widely and practically jumped into Arthur's arms. He rubbed his face into the older boy's chest and tightened his arms around his waist. Arthur nuzzled into into Merlin's hair and inhaled his sweet, clean scent. He was going to draw away but Merlin rested his chin on his chest and smiled at him.
“Lay with me.” he said, then pulled him down. Arthur was frozen stiff. He was basically on top of the little prince. It was beginning to be too much for Arthur. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to hold back.
“My prince—” Arthur began to protest.
“Please?” Merlin said, giving him big doe eyes and a flutter of his eyelashes. Arthur's heart melted.
“Well, I suppose...” Merlin smiled triumphantly. He wriggled around until he was half-way on top of Arthur with his cheek on his chest. Merlin went to sleep almost immediately. Arthur couldn't sleep, not with Merlin so close and intimate with him. But at least he could admire the boy's beauty. He looked so lovely and comfortable. Arthur couldn't stop himself from kissing his cheek and stroking his lips with his fingertips.
“I love you.” he whispered.