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‘Forgive me, would you like the Knights to escort you around the gardens or…’ Arthur trailed off, clearly unsure of what do with the visitor. Princess Mithian had been invited to stay at the Court while her Father commanded Knights from all over the lands to his Kingdom, to arrange a tournament to fight for her hand. It had been the only option, following Guinevere’s marriage to Arthur, leaving Mithian without a husband.
Merlin knew he felt guilty, as did Gwen, which was why they had invited the Princess to stay. Mithian looked so unsure of herself, in a Kingdom that did not belong to her, with very few of her own Guards to keep her safe. Most of them were from Camelot, and clearly she didn’t trust them.
Taking pity on her, Merlin decided he might be of assistance. After all, he wasn’t needed at this impromptu meeting that the Council had called. Technically, neither was Guinevere, but leaving her with Mithian would be just as awkward, if not more, so Merlin decided to help.
‘I could show you around the markets if you would like, your Grace?’ He politely asked, inclining his head to her. The last time they had met, he had been Arthur’s manservant and she had been a Princess close to a betrothal.
Now, he was the Court Sorcerer of Camelot, and she was a woman with no marriage proposals.
‘That would be lovely, thank you.’ Mithian looked thankful for the excuse to escape the guards, even if Arthur was glaring at Merlin.
‘I’m sending three Knights with you.’ It wasn’t an option, so Merlin just rolled his eyes sneakily in Mithian’s direction, the Princess hiding a laugh by clearing her throat.
‘Right, this way, my Lady.’ He offered out his arm, and they were off.
**
Mithian ducked her head to breathe in the scent of the flowers, smiling at how fresh they were. In her Kingdom, a market like this was usually a place she was forbidden from entering. But with Albion’s greatest Sorcerer at her side, she was allowed to roam freely. The stall-owners came up to her to show her their products, ranging from the finest silks she’d ever seen to herbs, to crystals. Merlin stuck by her side, providing her with the gossip of Albions’s finest Court.
‘The Queen does seem adored by her people.’ Mithian agreed, reaching to touch a shawl that was being offered. It was beautiful, a soft lavender colour that she thought might suit her current dress, and she went to reach for her coin bag, when Merlin beat her to it. He purchased the shawl, before wrapping it around her shoulders in one smooth movement.
‘To cheer you up. It can’t be easy, staying in an unfamiliar Court, my Lady.’ When she’d first met Merlin, she had been perfectly aware that she was hated. Merlin loved Guinevere, and had wanted her to become Queen. When her Kingdom had found out that not only had the King married, but he’d legalised Magic so that his manservant could become Court Sorcerer, she realised who he was.
Emrys. No wonder he’d disliked her, when his job was to protect Arthur.
‘Nonsense. I’m thankful, for the King’s hospitality.’ She hated it. Camelot was full of people that gossiped over her marital state, over the fact that she was to be auctioned off to the best Knight at the upcoming tournament. No doubt some of Camelot’s Knights would enter, hence why their escort was three new Knights.
‘You don’t need to lie to me, my Lady.’ Nobody had ever dared to accuse her of such, and she studied the Sorcerer curiously. He didn’t seem to have noticed his lack of propriety, maybe due to his affection for Arthur. Mithian continued on to the next stall, fingers tracing the fabric he’d bought for her.
Nobody had ever bought her a gift like this. Nobles brought her items to win her favour, her Father bought her pretty dresses and silks to make her look like a Queen. This was different, a token of understanding, and she clutched it tightly.
‘I am worried that the tournament will be a bloodbath.’ She admitted to the man, Merlin’s eyes darting across to her.
‘You’re worried about the Knights?’ He was probing, but gently.
‘If I am to marry the winner of such a tournament, then I will marry a man who has killed his opponents. A man of brute strength.’ A man that would become her partner, a man that would rule over Nemeth at her side. She would be the crowned-Queen and Ruler of Nemeth, but he would be King-Consort.
‘And you fear he won’t be a good ruler?’ That was most of her worry, yes. She went to say it, but Merlin eyed her up knowingly.
‘I am worried for myself. Selfish as it may seem…’
‘Not at all, my Lady. Understandable, to fear for your safety against the unknown.’ She sighed, slipping her arm through his and looking to the Knights that kept following them. Even they leered at her, like they might have the honour of winning her hand, if they could win the tournament.
‘Merlin…’
‘My Lady?’ He questioned, and she wondered if she should be doing this.
‘Would you be against us losing our followers?’ Merlin’s grin was blinding, before his eyes turned to liquid sunlight, something she had never seen so close-up.
‘It would be my pleasure.’
**
Merlin laughed, watched as Mithian drained her drink and slammed the mug down onto the counter. Around her, the men cheered as she took her silver coins that she’d won, while Merlin kept a careful eye on their surroundings. It turned out, that under all those royal clothes, Mithian could actually be quite the rulebreaker.
Once they’d sent a cartful of hay into the Knights following them, Merlin had led her to the more natural side of Camelot. He’d suggested changing her dress a little, used a simple spell to make her clothes look less like a Princess, and more like a visiting Lady. They drew less attention, and by the time they’d reached the Tavern, nobody had looked twice.
Merlin watched finished off his drink, watched as Mithian challenged yet another man to an arm wrestle. It was amusing to watch, especially when she won without even breaking a sweat.
‘Knights of Camelot approaching, milord.’ The barmaid offered out the warning, and Merlin swore under his breath. The last thing he needed was for Arthur to find out he’d taken Princess Mithian to the Tavern, he’d be in the stocks for a week!
‘My Lady, we have to be going.’ Merlin remarked, reaching for her like he would Gwen or Morgana, before pausing. If she noticed his hesitation, she didn’t show it, instead gripping his hand and sliding from the bench she’d been seated at.
‘I suggest using the back exit, milord, milady.’ Taking the advice, Mithian dragged him towards the rear exit of the Tavern, Merlin laughing as she stuck her head around the door to peer into the alley.
‘Have you done this before?’ He teased, stepping out and helping her over the ledge, before they were off down the alley. He knew Camelot’s pathways like the back of his hand, moved them through the city with ease and towards the Eastern Wall.
‘I sometimes sneak out of the Castle at night, Nemeth is beautiful under the stars.’ Mithian was by no means drunk, perhaps a little tipsy. Her usually powdered-pale skin was flushed, the purple scarf around her shoulders contrasting to the redness of her cheeks.
‘Come on, I’ve got something to show you.’ He guided her to Camelot’s secret exits, using a simple glamour so that the Guards let them pass, before moving off the track and guiding her down to the woods. Mithian followed without hesitation, even dared to run ahead through the trees as she lifted her skirts enough to bound through the undergrowth.
She looked free. He’d never seen a noble lady act in such a way, Morgana and Gwen aside, and he felt sorry for her. Soon, she’d be Queen of Nemeth, married to a man that saw her as a prize.
‘What is it you want to show me, Merlin?’ She said his name in an odd way, with her accent heavy and strangely he liked it.
‘I’ve heard that you quite enjoy displays of Magic…’ He’d been hesitant, but watching her react to his spells earlier, he thought this might cheer her up. Plus, it was nice to not be alone for a little bit. His main companionship came from Arthur and the Knights, Gwen and Morgana occasionally.
‘Oh yes!’ She clapped her hands together, halting in her tracks and looking at him with wide eyes, waiting for a show of his gift. He paused, thinking how best to show off his talent, before opting for a safe bet.
First, he changed back her dress. She laughed as it turned back to the cream and gold-trimmed fabric, smiled when the scarf around her neck wrapped into her hair and held it back. Then, he brought his hands to his lips, blew into them and then opened up.
A butterfly. Usually, they’d be blue, but he had seen the way her eyes lingered on the lavender of her scarf, so he opted for that colour.
‘Oh my…’ His Magic had only grown stronger, since his appointment as Court Sorcerer. Now, he was thankful for it, sent a cloud of butterflies across to the Princess.
**
Mithian had never seen something so beautiful. She knew Merlin had talent, but this was… Incredible. He’d matched the colour of the scarf to the butterflies he’d created, a talent that had her marvelling in the creatures that surrounded her. When they fluttered upwards, leaving her on the forest floor with just her and Camelot’s Court Sorcerer, she realised this was what she’d miss, when she became a married Queen.
There would be no more fun, not like this. She would never be able to go unescorted with a man, she’d have to sleep in her husband’s bed whether or not she liked it.
Mithian had spent her life trying to be the heir that Nemeth needed, only for her Father to sell her off to the best Knight in the lands. Why could he not see that strength was not the might of a sword alone? She dared any of the Knights to take on a sorcerer like Merlin and to come out unscathed.
Merlin. The sorcerer’s eyes were golden as he tended to the plants in the clearing, and Mithian wondered if she’d ever have a chance like this again. For once, she wanted someone to treat her like a normal person, not someone that came with a Crown attached.
But would he deny her advances? She figured that she only had once chance, and she was more than willing to take it. Approaching the sorcerer, she watched as Merlin picked a flower for her, handing it across with a smile on his face.
‘Merlin, I’d like to ask something of you.’ She kept her tone calm, even if her heart was racing in her chest. She could hear it pounding, the nerves of what she was about to do overwhelming.
‘Anything, my Lady.’ She let her eyes flick to his lips, wondering if they’d be soft. Did she need practice in such a thing? Merlin’s eyes widened in shock, like he’d understood the question, before he smiled.
A hand came up to her cheek, fingers calloused against her skin, but just as gentle as she’d imagined. She tilted into his palm, let her eyes flutter shut when his head ducked to hers, before a warm breath ghosted over her lips. It wasn’t quite a kiss, gave her the opportunity to pull away, not that she wanted to.
She took what she wanted, pushing her lips up to his, copying his lead and wrapping an arm around his neck to tug him closer. He was taller than her, so she had to go up onto her toes to reach his warm mouth, but it was perfect. While she had no idea what to expect, it seemed natural from the first moment their lips touched.
Merlin’s tongue licked at her lower lip, and Mithian opened her mouth into the kiss, let the sorcerer guide her back to one of the trees and prop her up. That meant she could focus more on tugging his hair, on nipping at his lip and kissing him back fiercely. It felt good, a heat in her stomach that she’d not experienced with another before.
When he pulled back, Mithian was left panting.
‘We… we don’t have long until we need to be back.’ Once they were within Camelot’s Walls, it was too dangerous for Merlin to show her affection. Even if he used his Magic to sneak to her, it was risky. This moment, standing in the forest without a care in the world, it was her one chance to live life to the full.
Mithian reached to her cloak, unclipping it and letting it hit the floor around her ankles. Merlin’s eyes were dark as they tracked her fingers to the front of her bodice, untying the laces that held the dress up. She then reached for the ones at her waist, but was cut off by Merlin’s body pressing back to hers.
His lips were hungry, snatching the air from her breath as she was pushed back into the trunk of the tree. A knee spread her thighs apart, Mithian lifting one leg to hook over his waist as he gripped it. Nobody but her maid and her governess had ever touched her bare skin, yet Merlin’s hands were greedy, ran up her thigh while the other held the back of her neck.
He still wasn’t going quickly enough for Mithian’s liking, the Princess wanting more. She reached for his neckerchief first, stripping it from his neck and letting it fall. His jacket was shucked off, his lips never leaving hers even as he shrugged his arms out of the jacket. Finally, she could get her hands under his tunic, surprised to find his stomach toned and a dusting of hair over his chest.
‘Off.’ She muttered against his mouth, the sorcerer obeying. His lips parted from hers, giving Mithian the time to watch as the new skin was exposed, an endless stretch of places to explore. He had a couple of scars, but she had no time to ask where they had come from, because Merlin was back. Mithian gasped when she was lifted, laughed into Merlin’s hair before it broke into a breathless whimper when he pressed against her.
Hard skin and strong muscles, the fabrics of her dress bunching up to her hips when she wrapped her thighs around his waist. She was glad now that she was an accomplished horse-rider, gripped his lithe form as his lips moved to her neck. It felt far too good, a bubbling heat in her gut that got worse when he rocked up against her.
‘Gods, Merlin.’ She tipped her head back, giving him more skin to explore while she gripped at his back. She guided his hands to her chest, felt his breathing hitch when she let them move into her dress.
‘Touch me.’ She didn’t mean to make it into an order, watched as he smirked slowly.
‘As you wish, my Lady.’ Merlin’s hands reached yanked at the fabric, tearing it open to reveal her chest to him, before his head ducked down before she could even comprehend what was happening. It had to look obscene, her thighs around his waist as his head buried into her chest, biting and sucking at the skin of her breasts while she tried to remember why she hadn't done this sooner.
His hair was soft, proved useful in directing his talented mouth to her nipple, moaning when he lavished it with his tongue. The hand that wasn’t on her hip moved to the point where her hips were arching into his body, moving under the rumpled skirts and to her smallclothes. He only paused for a moment before his nails ran up her inner thigh, moving aside the fabric to press against her core.
She must have made a sound, probably an undignified one, but it was covered by Merlin’s heavy breathing as two fingers pressed against her centre. She’d only done this under the cover of darkness, taking a pillow between her thighs and rocking until her thighs shook, but Merlin’s fingers were so much better. They dipped through her curls, rubbing gently in circular motions as his teeth grazed over her skin.
‘Merlin, oh fuck, Merlin!’ Her Father would have had her locked up for a week for such a curse, but Merlin just peered up from where his lips were sealed around her breast, grinning cheekily. The fingers dipped lower, and she blushed when she heard the slick sound of his fingers moving over her.
‘Think you can stand?’ He murmured, drawing back to breathe cool air over her hardened nipples. She squeaked, before nodding, felt her feet hit the floor and his hand vanish as her skirts came back down.
‘What are you… Merlin!’ He laughed, head ducking under her skirts from where he’d knelt in the dirt, Mithian wondering where to put her hands as hands tugged her smallclothes down.
‘Trust me, I won’t let you fall.’ His voice was slightly muffled, a hand guiding her leg up and over his shoulder. It was a precarious situation, aided by a strength she suspected was Merlin’s Magic, before her inner thigh was kissed.
‘Has anyone ever seen you here, Princess?’ Merlin’s voice was low, sent shivers down her spine as she dared to raise one hand to her own breast. It didn’t quite feel as good as when Merlin touched her, but she could practice.
‘Nobody but my nursemaid.’ She whispered, like it was a secret she should not divulge in. Merlin groaned, before a wet heat was licking at her core. Mithian swore again, wanted her skirts gone desperately so she could see how this looked, a sorcerer on his knees as he licked at her cunt.
‘You taste so sweet.’ His lips stayed on her as he spoke, the vibrations making her toes curl as she placed a hand over where his head was. Even through the dresses, it was a good enough hold to push him into her wet heat, tilting her hips up invitingly.
‘Your tongue is as smooth as your words, Warlock.’ He chuckled, before suckling at the point where he had rubbed, Mithian letting her head hit back against the tree. It became an impatient rush, her hips forming a rhythm of riding the tongue that was now spearing her open, nose brushing into the bundle of nerves just below her curls.
Her stomach tightened, thighs tensing up as she pinched at her chest, before the feeling shattered. She cried out, some form of Merlin’s name and a garbled plea for him to catch her as she fell, gentle kitten-licks working her through the aftershocks of pleasure.
When his head re-emerged, his lips were swollen and shiny, the dark in his eyes eating away the bright blue. Stunning, she thought, with ruffled hair and the tent in his breeches very clearly on display. He wasn’t asking for anything, was waiting to see what she wanted.
She wanted him.
‘Would you… I’ve never…’ Mithian was unsure of how to ask, but luckily, Merlin understood. He stood up, came back to kiss her sweetly.
‘Are you sure, my Lady? We can return to…’ Curiously, she reached a hand to cup the front of his britches, squeezing softly and listening to him groan. Then, her mind made up, she reached for the cloak that had fallen to the dirt, lay it out before sitting down on it. Her smallclothes were gone, so she could simply raise her knees up and move the skirts to her hips, watching Merlin’s eyes drop to between her thighs.
It was such a crude act, Mithian could feel her skin burning, but she maintained her steady gaze throughout. A moment later, she laughed as Merlin pounced, lips seeking out her own and his hands shakingly trying to undo his breeches.
For a moment, she had the chance to worry about what would happen if she fell pregnant while unmarried, nipped at Merlin’s lip to get his attention.
‘Is there a spell of some sort…’ He got the idea, nodding quickly. His eyes flashed golden, a strange warmth settling over her, before it was gone.
He resumed with the kissing, with the gentle rutting against her inner thigh like he hadn't already worked her up to one climax. Mithian supposed this was the difference between a Knight and Merlin, he didn’t have anything to prove to her.
‘Are you sure about this, Mithian?’ The first time he hadn't addressed her by her title, and it was soft. A kiss placed against her lips, a concerned furrow of his brow, and Mithian nodded. A hand moved to his trousers, moving them down enough for him to shuffle closer. Mithian let her eyes flick shut when she felt a blunt pressure against her, only for Merlin to kiss her nose.
‘Eyes on me.’ She did as told, studied the tiny flecks of gold that seemed to always be present in Merlin’s bright eyes, gasped as his hips slowly thrust forward, until they were pressed flush against each other.
Her nursemaid, and later her tutor, had told her it would be painful. That it would burn, and she would bleed, but that was to be expected.
There was nothing more than the slightest ache, the feeling of being incredibly full, split open while Merlin littered kisses to her neck and chest and face.
‘You’re so stunning, beautiful, the prettiest woman in all of Albion.’ He didn’t move, let her slowly get used to the feeling of Merlin being inside her, before she cautiously moved her hips.
The response was the Warlock groaning, a stuttered version of her name.
‘May I…’ Even now, he didn’t take, waited for her nod. Only then did he reach for her thigh, guiding it up so it rested over his hip, before he slowly pulled his hips back.
This time, it was a quick movement, coupled with an obscene sound that had Mithian blushing the colour of the Camelot emblem. Merlin didn’t look perturbed, in fact he looked smug, began to work up a pace that left Mithian helpless to do anything but clutch at his shoulders. When that didn’t work in speeding him up, she ran her hands down to grab at handfuls of his arse, spreading her legs wider in a hope that it would encourage him.
It did. Merlin dropped his head to her neck, began to rut into her like an animal might, and it was finally enough to sate the hunger that had formed. She mouthed at his ear, let her teeth graze over the lobe while she panted and gasped, her dress sweat-soaked to her form.
‘So tight, m’not going to last.’ Merlin panted out, sucking at the base of her neck where she could tell her skin shined from the exertion.
She’d fully intended for this to be Merlin’s source of pleasure, but when a hand snaked down under her skirts to rub at her, Mithian became greedy. If this was the only time she could have this, she wanted everything. Bucking into his fingers, she swivelled her hips and let her spine arch up, chasing after her second high.
It hit just like the first, a wave that made her shudder while her thighs clenched around his waist. Merlin groaned, reached for her hips with both of his hands and pinned her still as he jack-rabbited his hips, fucking her down into the dirt beneath until he stuttered.
She swallowed down her name as he spilled inside her, sucked at his lips and licked into his mouth while he lazily worked his cock into her. Then, almost like he could no longer hold himself up, he rolled them over so he was underneath.
Mithian settled on his bare chest, kept her legs straddling him while she admired the flush that spread to his collarbones. He was all sharp angles and pale skin, marks that she traced with her fingertips while he smiled up at her.
‘Okay?’ He asked, linking their fingers together over his heart. It was racing, a steady thumping sound that she wanted to memorise.
‘Perfect.’ She responded, knowing that this could not last forever.
But, for now, she had everything she wanted.