Dirty Drabble: Merlin, Dirty Drabble #01

There was nothing like the sunlight shining off of Arthur’s hair. He stood framed in the window of her bedroom, looking out into the dingy street that ran before her house. The window was clean—everything in Gwen’s home was clean—but it was old, and scratched, and worn—just like everything in Gwen’s house.

His hair seemed to burn in the nimbus cast by the morning rays of the sun. Even his skin was aglow, still slick with water from his bath. He prepared to leave her home under a dingy old cloak of her dear friend Merlin so as not to arouse suspicion, and Gwen knew that so far they had managed to fool the public into thinking that Merlin was the lover who snuck away from her door two or three mornings a week, not the crown prince of Camelot.

It wouldn’t last. Eventually something would happen to catch the king’s attention, and bring his ire down upon her. He would see her dead before he saw his son give his love to a lowly servant girl… Still, the time for that had not yet come. For now their arrangement worked. They’d enjoyed another night of stolen love, breathless kisses, and had slept the sleep of satisfied lovers.

“Must you go so soon?” Gwen asked, holding a hand out to Arthur. He was so beautiful, her heart ached to gaze upon him.

A smile pulled at the corners of his full, rosy lips as he returned to bed. Wordlessly, he slipped under the coarse blankets, before slipping his hardened length into the silky folds of Gwen’s welcoming warmth.

No Regrets

Guinevere could barely drag her feet as she left the castle bath. The servants were preparing the castle for winter by trading in the light summer bedclothes for heavy winter blankets and laying down warm fur rugs. The male servants were stocking wood for the hearths, and heavy curtains were being put up to keep cold air out from drafty windows. The castle was being scrubbed and polished until it gleamed, and Gwen had worked with the other servants see the job done.

She’d spent most of her day on her hands and knees, sweeping, moping, scrubbing, and beating out rugs, not to mention hanging heavy laundry: half of which would be put away until they were needed next spring, and the other half was being brought out for winter. Now she was exhausted, and wanted only to get to sleep.

Once Morgana was settled in for the night, Gwen would walk home and pray she wouldn’t oversleep, for she had the same routine to look forward to for the next two days. By the time it was over not a servant in Camelot would be good for anything, though that wouldn’t matter. They would plow on and serve anyway. They had no other choice.

As tired as she was, Gwen had no complaints. The hard work during the day kept her mind off of Lancelot and Arthur, and the weariness at night made her sleep so deeply that they couldn’t invade her dreams; or if they did, she wasn’t aware of it the next day.

After a perfunctory knock, Gwen pushed the door to Morgana’s quarters open. “Morgana? I wanted to check to see—Oh, dear! I’m so sorry!”

Morgana wasn’t alone in her quarters. It had taken Gwen a moment to realize what her mistress was doing naked and rocking her hips back and forth. She pulled the door closed and, her face hot with embarrassment and shock (embarrassment at catching Morgana in such an intimate act, and shock that it was with Merlin of all people), Gwen decided to hurry home.

She rounded the corner and found Arthur leaning against the window, looking out into the night and watching Camelot glitter in the darkness. Her stomach clenched upon seeing him. Not all of it was Arthur alone, but the idea of him catching Morgana and Merlin in flagrante delicto. He’d take it to the King, and the King would have Merlin’s head.

“Sire. I wouldn’t bother Lady Morgana this evening. She’s finally gotten to sleep.”

Gwen cast a nervous glance back at Morgana’s door and prayed no sudden loud noises would betray Gwen as a liar. Arthur snorted.

“You’re an awful liar, Guinevere. Morgana isn’t sleeping. She’s…borrowing my manservant. Third time this week, actually. Shall I walk you home? The hour is late.”

Gwen nodded, and Arthur fell into step beside her. They were silent all the way out of the castle, which was fine with Gwen since anything they said could only lead to trouble for both of them, should anyone report them to the king.

“I saw you working today,” Arthur finally said, as they left the castle grounds and started on the street to her house. It was quiet, with nearly everyone too exhausted with the extra workload to want to stay up, though the knights of Camelot were on duty as usual. They nodded as they passed the prince and the handmaiden.

“Every hand is needed,” Gwen replied, as they came to her door. They were finally alone, though they knew their voices would carry in the still, cool air. Gwen held the door open, and Arthur came in and waited while she shut the door and then lit a few candles to illuminate the room. She came to a stop before him, and it wasn’t lost on Arthur that they were standing in the exact same spot as when they shared their first kiss.

“I hate to see you toil so, Guinevere. You should be the one who is served, not the one to serve.”

“Sire…”

Arthur swallowed and took a step back from her. “Forgive me. It is vulgar of me to be so familiar with another man’s lover.”

“I am not Lancelot’s lover.”

Arthur moved close, his handsome face eloquent with longing and confusion alike.

“Then what are you? What do you see in him that you do not see in me?”

“A future,” Gwen whispered.

Her words caused many emotions to pass across Arthur’s face: hurt, anger, regret. Embattled with himself, Arthur raised his fists and then unclenched them before taking Gwen by the shoulders.

“Do you love him?”

“Yes. I think…oh…I don’t know!”

Still holding her tight by the shoulders, Arthur pulled Gwen to him in a hard kiss. He wanted her to understand how much he loved and desired her. He had darker intentions too—he wanted to possess her, to lay claim to her so that no other man could ever come between them. It makes him feel like a low-brow pig, but those are his true feelings.

They can barely breathe when they finally pull apart. Their hearts pound, their bodies tremble with longing for what can never be.

“Do you love him?” Arthur asked again.

“I think I will always have feelings for him. I cared for Lancelot when I first met him, on his first visit to Camelot. I can’t deny it. I can’t lie about it.

Her words wounded Arthur. She could see it.

“It would be unfair to ask you to waste your life waiting for me. You have every right to move on—”

“Arthur…I love you too.”

Arthur sighed, the tension ebbing from his body. “You must be terribly conflicted.”

He was surprised when Gwen shook her head. “No. If our stations in life didn’t matter, if I a choice, I would choose you, Arthur. I would chose you without hesitation, without regret, and with so much joy in my heart.”

“Guinevere,” Arthur said breathlessly. His desire for her burned strong again, as though she’d added oil to the fire in his heart, and in his body. “We don’t have to deny ourselves.”

“What are you saying?”

“We can have what Merlin and Morgana have. I desire you so. Do you not desire me as well?”

“Of course I do, but it will never work, Arthur. Do you know how terribly it would hurt if Uther forces you into a noble marriage and I have to give you up? Would you have me live as your mistress while you betray your wife?”

Arthur swallowed and shook his head no. “I’m sorry. I’m being selfish.”

Gwen touched Arthur’s face tenderly. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

“I would give you whatever you asked, Arthur. I want us to enjoy what Merlin and Morgana have now, but how long will it last for them? At some point it will have to end, and the pain they feel will break their hearts…”

Arthur released Gwen and backed away. “You’re right. We should save ourselves the heartache. It’s just that…we’ll miss so much. I don’t want the regret of missed opportunities in my life, and I know you don’t want that either.”

He opened the door and stepped into the cool of night.

“Arthur, wait.”

He froze, not daring to look back.

“Stay.”

Turning around, Arthur came back into Gwen’s humble home, and locked the door behind him.

Not Yet

Rating: Adult
Pairing: Arthur/Gwen
Warnings: Slightly rough sex, male-inflicted pain
Summary: Gwen’s warm, wet mouth on his most intimate flesh wasn’t a dream after all…
Author's Note: MHE for The Once And Future Queen
The tonic Gaius brewed worked wonders for warding off the pain of the wound Arthur had sustained that day when he’d unknowingly jousted against an assassin that had come to kill him. Sleep came easy on Gaius’s potions, and Arthur hunkered down against his pillows, allowing his mind to turn from the jousting competition to something much more pleasurable…Guinevere.

He’d kissed her. He’d finally managed to just come right out and do what he’d been dreaming of, and while it had been nice, it had been far from satisfying. He had kept it simple and sweet, lips on lips only, rather than thrusting his tongue hungrily into her mouth as he’d desired to do.
It was all for the best, really. She was a servant and he was a prince. His father would never agree to allowing him to indulge in even an affair with Gwen, much less an honorable marriage. They’d walked away from one another with an understanding that there could be nothing between them, and Arthur was fine with that. Really, he was just peachy with the idea of walking past Gwen day after day, longing to be with her and having to hold his lusts in check.
Because he’d had so much success with that in the past.
He wasn’t a playboy like the Knights in his father’s service. He didn’t jump from bed to bed as easily as he could have. He focused his energies on becoming King, which meant lots of study, lots of training, and lots of dull nights reading books rather than shagging the daughters of Camelot’s nobility as many of them openly wished he would.
Perhaps, when you are king, things will be different...
He was king, now, in his mind, which was slowly slipping into sleep. He was king, and in his throne room, and Guinevere was his Queen. The court was empty, and Gwen’s smile was sweet and seductive as she went to her knees before him, her fingers, trained from years of servitude, deftly unfastened his trousers. Arthur felt his cock stiffen under the covers. He imagined Gwen’s warm hand on his hard flesh, massaging him, bringing him to the brink of ecstasy.
He sighed her name and said something filthy about his cock in her mouth. Dream Gwen happily obliged. Her tongue was heaven, and it felt so incredibly real. His cock twitched with need, and Arthur, half asleep, reached down to take told only to get a handful of hair.
What…
His eyes snapped open when he realized that Gwen’s warm, wet mouth on his most intimate flesh wasn’t a dream after all. It was very much real.
“Gwen,” Arthur said weakly. He pulled aside the blankets to find her there, her bodice open, her breasts exposed and ending in hard nipples that made Arthur’s mouth water. That sweet mouth of hers was wrapped around the head of his cock.
He must be mistaken. This had to be a dream after all. Gwen would never just come into his quarters and fellate him, even if he’d begged her to. Or so he’d thought.
She ran her tongue around the head of his cock. The sensations, the fact that they weren’t in the court anymore, but rather in his quarters, and his wound ached slightly as his muscles tensed all came together to spell reality, but it just couldn’t be…
She pulled away and sat up, a beam of moonlight fell across her body, making her glow with ethereal light in the darkness. She looked angelic.
“I know I shouldn’t be here, doing this,” Gwen whispered. “I just…I should go.”
“Oh no, not now,” said Arthur. He didn’t want or need an explanation for Gwen’s actions. He just wanted to finish what she’d started
He pulled her down and to the side, rolling smoothly atop her like he would roll an opponent in hand to hand combat. Despite the pain draft he’d taken earlier, Arthur was hyper aware of everything. The scent of her freshly scrubbed skin, and under that the smell of her excitement, and the sight of her breasts, exposed to him, all drove Arthur mad with lust.
He kissed her deeply, the way he’d wanted to in her house that morning, and hiked up her skirt.
Slow down, Arthur cautioned himself. This is about her too, don’t be so selfish…
Her knickers were off, her skirts were hiked up, and the dark patch of hair between her legs made Arthur hard as iron. He wanted so much to thrust into her, hard and fast, until he came. His body quivered as he struggled to reign himself in. He didn’t want to be selfish with her. Others, maybe, but not Gwen.
Sensing his reserve, Gwen pulled him to her in another kiss, and then lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him down. The head of his cock brushed against the moist heat of her entrance, making him moan.
“Guinevere…”
“It’s okay. Don’t hold back,” she whispered.
His body trembling, Arthur pushed forward, sinking the head of his cock slowly into her. She was tight and slick, and lifted herself up to meet him, pushing him a little more inside. It was enough to undo him, and he thrust hard. She gasped and bit her lip.
“Did I hurt you?”
Gwen nodded. “A little.”
“I’m sorry—”
She silenced him with another kiss and urged him to move inside her with another thrust of her hips. Obviously whatever discomfort he’d caused wasn’t serious enough to stop her from wanting more.
They lost themselves in the act, clutching one another, kissing, bodies moving together in a smooth rhythm that soon brought them to the same screaming climax. Arthur vaguely wondered that no one, especially Merlin, came running into the room to see what was wrong.
When it was over Arthur turned onto his back, reluctantly withdrawing from Gwen to lay on his back. His wound ached again. Regrets threatened the contentment he felt at lying in bed beside the woman he couldn’t deny he’d fallen in love with.
“Guinevere—”
“I know, Sire. There can’t be anything between us. Not yet, anyway.”
“Stop calling me sire when we’re alone. Tell me, why did you come to me tonight?”
Gwen smiled at him in the moonlight. “I wanted you, and I sensed you wanted me.”
“You sensed right.”
She stroked his chin, and then kissed him softly. “I have to go. I shan’t return.”
Her words were like a knife to the heart, and Arthur didn’t know how to respond. He watched Gwen dress with quick, efficient movements, and then head for the door.
“Guinevere.”
“Yes?”
“I love…I loved tonight.”
There was understanding in her eyes when she nodded and said, “I loved it too. Sweet dreams, Arthur.”
She slipped into the darkness, the door shut behind her, and Arthur lay in his bed feeling abandoned and sick with loss. He wanted her here at night, every night, whether they made love or not. He wanted to hold her while he slept, for only then would his dreams truly be sweet.
“I love you,” he said on the back of a sigh, before drifting off to dreams of the one woman in Camelot that he wanted but could not have.
Not yet, anyway.