Chapter Text
The towering trees watched him, bark eyes wide in awe. His leather boots sank into the muddy floor as he inhaled the dewy air. Ropes of golden light coiled around his veins, searching for an outlet.
Deep breaths. That's what Gaius had told him. Control your breathing, or you'll never get anywhere. It calmed his mind at least. Merlin faced his hands, calloused and shaky, and felt the beginnings of transformation. That dark, gory ecstasy that pulsed within every fibre of his body. Suddenly, his nails elongated into pointed weapons.
"I will control you."
He managed to keep the transformation to just his hands with a great deal of energy and focus. Finally, he sighed, the slightest hint of order in this chaotic realm. Just as he'd allowed his mind to celebrate, however, the floodgates opened, and it could not be controlled any longer.
Muzzle, horns, tail, and wings that tore through his tunic. Merlin's groans turned to whines as it overcame him until finally, a roar escaped his shivering lips.
At Merlin's return, he was greeted by Arthur, who had been sat before the window. He had an absent look in his eyes moments before, but at the sight of Merlin, he seemed to waken. "And where have you been?"
Merlin sat on the bed behind him with a grin, "Out. I got all my chores done first, don't you worry." Arthur ran a hand down his face and pressed his back to the wall as he faced Merlin. Despite his warm demeanour, it was clear his mind was anything but. "Something the matter?"
"Hm? No, no."
He was never a good liar, and Merlin was pretty certain what was bothering him. It had been brewing between them since last night. As much as Merlin hated the thought of being the one to break the ice, he hated this tension more. So, he succumbed to his guilt. "If I made you uncomfortable last night, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to--"
"What! No, don't worry about that, it was my fault--don't--"
"Arthur!"
He paused, looking back at Merlin with those pained eyes of his, trying to formulate his thoughts. How could he tell him just what he'd been thinking? The conflict within his head as he trembled under each supple kiss. Of course, he had wanted him to continue, but things didn't go how he wanted them to; they went how they went. Merlin didn't deserve him, not after everything. The fact he couldn't see that was...heartbreaking.
Before he could defend fate, Merlin had cupped his cheek with a smile. "I know you have your reasons, but none of that matters now, don't you see?"
His brows furrowed, "Don't I see? You're the one not seeing things, Merlin. You shouldn't want me, it's--" His breath grew rapid, "It's not okay."
Clearly, whatever he meant by that hadn't translated. Arthur could feel the crack of his heart as Merlin took a step back, eyes glued to his own with a cold quiet. He wanted to defend himself, but he wasn't sure he could. He hadn't realized he still harboured those thoughts.
He'd suspected Merlin was queer long ago. It was clear as day. He didn't have an issue with it. Thinking back, though, he had never tried to change the way Camelot was, even as they bonded. That reminder made him sick. Had he always been such a cruel man? Who even was he now, without his father's lies grumbling in his ear?
Before Merlin could run out on him, Arthur grasped him by the shoulders with a desperate expression, "I'm sorry, it's okay that you're queer, I just mean...why me? After everything I've done to you? What my father did to you while I sat there watching? I'm sorry, Merlin, I don't deserve you. There's only so much I can mend."
They stood there in a thick tension for a while until finally, Merlin's gaze softened and his smile began to appear again. "Oh, Arthur." As his hand came to touch the pale flesh of his cheek again, however, he noticed a subtle shake. "Arthur?"
He tried to force a smile, but only succeeded in allowing a tear to stream down his face, falling from the confinement of his waterline. He wiped it quickly and released his grip on Merlin's shoulders. "I'm fine." He fell to the bed and hunched over his knees as nausea coiled around his stomach.
His blonde hair splayed through shivering fingers. His breathing was suddenly rapid with choked gasps interrupting each shaky exhale. The curve of his broad back, hunched to hide his face, held a tender quality. The back of a man who felt anything but that. Kings don't cry, and yet here he was, a weak imitation.
Merlin brushed a gentle hand along his bicep with murmured apologies. Apologies he felt it necessary to give despite the circumstances. Fuck, Merlin was too sweet for him.
Knowing his father would never give him that respect hurt more than anything. It was always "suck it up," "be a man". He was just being a girl, weak and dramatic. He'd spent years trying to beat everything 'girl' out of his system, and even after all that work, he was still the same man he'd always been.
Thoughts forced themselves into his mind. Large breasts growing from his hunched chest like the sagging udders of an overused cow. How could he ever be the man he wanted, needed to be?
Every ounce of confidence melted from his clammy skin just as it did in the presence of Uther. He could feel his father towering over him now with that dreaded expression. Threatening to whip him like a peasant. On a bad day, he'd even hover a dagger in his hand, asking Arthur to 'pick a finger'. A simple but effective threat, it struck fear into him like nothing else. Even now, the sight of his hands at a time like this could send a shiver down his spine.
Merlin's delicate touch traced down his bicep. With a hesitant breath, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on the tensed spot. Warmth fluttered through Arthur's aching chest at the contact.
"Tell me."
"I can't, I just..."
"You know I'll never judge you."
He wanted to yell at him, but Merlin didn't deserve that. The only thing he was guilty of was emotion, and right now, that didn't seem like such a crime. Maybe it was to Uther, but when had he ever been right? If being wrong felt this nice, why not? As much as his body rejected that sentiment, he couldn't help but agree.
Merlin stood there with such delicate regality that he could easily be mistaken for a nymph. Nymph of queer beauty, Arthur could only taste by proxy, kneeling by his feet, begging for forgiveness.
"You were right." He placed his stilling hand over Merlin's, "I need love. I think I've needed it for a long time." He forced himself to meet his eyes. They were just as gorgeous as he had imagined. Lockets of sea watching him behind heavy lashes. Now was the hard part, the hardest part, probably the hardest thing he'd ever done. But for Merlin, he'd promised anything. "And I think I found it in you."
His smile was contagious. Arthur tried to hide his delight, still horrified at himself, but allowed Merlin to lure him into a warm safety. "I'm glad. I think we both need a bit of love right about now."