Rating: NC-17 (kind of...not really anything happenin but themes...)
Pairings: Implied Merlin/Bayard
Character/s: Arthur, Merlin, Valiant
Warnings: Mentions/implied thoughts about non-con
Summary: "Who are you? What do you want from me?" "I am your destiny."
Word Count: 989
Author's Notes: Why do I get big ideas for all my prompts these days that I want to continue into something bigger?
Valiant shoved at the knights surrounding him, leering unpleasantly as he forced them out of the way of the captive. He had brought the whelp in, he was going to be the one to take the prize. A few fell back to his swift punches and the others seemed to get the hint that Valiant had no interest in sharing. Eventually, the onlookers drew back enough for Valiant to see what it was he was after.
He was still a boy really, a few years off from manhood. Not that Valiant cared, it didn’t make a difference for what he had planned. In fact, it made it better, for he knew a boy this age would still be untouched. Especially when one considered who precisely this boy was and the type of life that he had led.
A privileged upbringing meant nothing now. The prince of Camelot was lying in a sprawled heap on the floor, his arms bound behind his back and a sack over his head. His clothing was crumpled and askew, and Valiant knew it was from where his fellow men had been trying their best to all get their hands on him. He could practically feel the boy’s frightened gasps, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Valiant knew that if he could, the boy would have no doubt been whimpering. But this operation had called for stealth, and Valiant had gagged the prince before he had dragged him from the tent. One blow to the head had been enough to render the boy’s struggles useless and Valiant had had him bound and over the horse before anyone realised they were under attack.
“The boy is mine.” He announced to no one in particular, and watched with delight as the helpless body seemed to shake. Valiant normally would have said it was from fright, but he knew better this time. Arthur was a prince, meaning he would be furious at the way he was being treated. Somehow, knowing that his captive would fight back sent a thrill through Valiant and he dropped to his knees without any further hesitation.
He wrenched the sack off the boy’s head, causing the prince to wince as the bright light met his eyes. He couldn’t have been older than fifteen, and Valiant smirked as he ran his thumb across the gag, taking in the wide eyes gleefully. It didn’t matter that the boy struggled as Valiant rolled him over nor did it matter when he let out a muffled cry as the man’s hand slipped up his shirt, nails raking over the soft skin. Feeling the boy trembling and knowing that it was fear this time made Valiant smirk, and without further ado, he ripped the shirt from the prince’s body.
While the bare torso – now with deep red welts down his back from Valiant’s nails – was appealing, the knight had no true interest there. Drawing his knife, he simply sliced through the good quality fabric of the boy’s breeches before tearing them off as well. One leg got caught on Arthur’s boots, succeeding in pulling them off too and causing Valiant to have to breathe deeply to control himself as he took in the naked and squirming body below him. Cries only just muffled by the gag fell from the boy’s lips as Valiant ran his hand up and down the boy’s back, unlacing his own breeches as he did so.
“Back away, Valiant, this was not the plan and you know it.”
The knight cursed, keeping the struggling youth pinned as he glared up at the man standing over him.
“You planning on taking him then? You are nothing more than a whore after all, are you not, Merlin?”
Valiant knew as soon as he had spoken that he had overstepped the mark. He didn’t even have time to get his hand out from his trousers before he was thrown against the opposite wall and pinned there. The man in front of him was a man, unlike the prince. And right now, his hand was outstretched and his eyes were burning gold. Despite his words, Valiant knew Merlin would kill him with a thought if he so desired.
“So now I am Sire? I am High Sorcerer of Mercia and Royal Consort to King Bayard. If you care to repeat your words to him, I’m sure he’ll be interested to know what you think of his whore…”
“Forgive me, My Lord, I…”
“Let lust cloud your mind. The boy is mine.” Merlin flicked his hand and Valiant sank down the wall, yanking his hand free as he did so and glaring. The boy had fallen still and it took every inch of his self-control not to kick him sharply in the ribs as he passed.
Valiant would have his way with the Prince of Camelot, no matter what it took.
Merlin, however, simply waved his hand and the captive was dressed once again. Not in a princely attire, but in simply serving clothes. He could see the fear spring back into life in the boy’s eyes and Merlin sighed. Somehow, the boy was more terrified of him using magic to clothe him than he had been of Valiant planning on raping him. Bending down, he gently navigated the young prince into a sitting position, leaning him back on the wall and tugging the gag out of his mouth. He made sure to keep his arms bound – he knew the training Arthur would have already received despite his young age.
“Who are you? What do you want from me? I demand that you let me go this instant!” Merlin smiled, making the young man fully aware that the warlock had heard the crack in his voice as he so desperately tried to sound older than he was. He gently combed his fingers through Arthur’s hair, feeling him shudder under the caress.
“I am your destiny.”