Summary:Arthur meets someone carrying a 'mark'. Someone his father hasn't found yet.
Warnings: slight D/S themes
Author's Notes:Once again I seem to have written a really long prompt that I want someone to write me a corresponding full length story too. Please please someone do this for me!!!!
He wore the mark. There was no other excuse for this to happen. It was basic and instinctual. Arthur could sense it on the man as if the sun rose from his nearly ivory skin. There was no temptation greater for his kind than to find the ones who held the mark. His father had long since hunted down what Arthur had thought to be the last of them, but yet here the man stood in the middle of the market, daring to be found and enslaved.
"You don't know who you're dealing with. Do you?"
Black messy hair over a tight lithe frame responded. "A great prat of a man that has little to offer but bullish behavior."
Arthur considered letting his knights drag the man back to his chambers before his father found him. "I would have you begging before nightfall."
"I would have you begging at my feet whenever I pleased." Open defiance with hints of fluttering beauty, this man was sumptuous to the senses.
The blond Prince of the realm smirked holding his arms wide in challenge. A marked one would know what Arthur was as soon as they touched. Let him attack. Let him know how near he was to someone who could contain that power and force him to yield it. Arthur laughed. "Show me, if you dare."
The dark haired man lunged forward with both hidden magical strength that Arthur dodged easily and a horridly uncoordinated fist that he grabbed. It was a quick motion using the Marked one's eagerness against him, and twisting the slighter man's arm behind him. Arthur pulled him close to whisper carefully thought out words. "Your mine now. You know this." Arthur casually licked the shell of the man's ear and watched him shiver.
"YOU are a Chosen?" Still defiant eyes widened, but his body told of his interest. Arthur could feel it surging on the Marked One's skin.
"We shall see, won't we...when you're begging me tonight."
The longer he held the man close, the nearer the possibility for permanently claiming him right then and there. Yes it would be so very good to turn him to one of Arthur's brood.
Merlin waited in the large personal bed chambers of the prince. The Prat. One of the Chosen.
His mother had warned him that not all of the Chosen were noble. That some of them had lost their way due to grief or betrayal. She said that not all of the Chosen would treat him well and that he should stay to the outskirts of Camelot till he could send a quiet message to Gaius for his training.
In the end, he couldn't resist the pull of the crowds, more importantly he couldn't resist the blinding heat of this Chosen's touch. There was no way he was the one of prophecy though so Merlin could resist the permanent Mark tonight. He would only give in a little, never enough to complete a full oath to a Prat like him.
The Chosen were merely conduits for the magic, a focal point to channel the power through. Oaths had to be made to give that power permanent residence although temporary temptations of skin and flesh could make a subtle bond.
Merlin paced the floor. They would get it out of their system and then he would go find Gaius. Yes. That was the best course of action.
Arthur confidently strode into his room. It had been enough hours that he had to focus on remembering what the Marked one he met that afternoon looked like. Annoying. He liked the man's ridiculous ears and mythically high cheekbones. Arthur took in a breath and ran his finger along one. He sighed content that they were no myth.
"I want you forever." Arthur could have taken him like Uther did with the others that were Marked. He could have chased him down forced him to a new brand, made the thin beauty bend to his will until he had nothing left but to make an oath or die.
Breathless yet proud, "You can have me tonight, but I'm no one's slave and I won't be force to an Oath I don't believe in."
Arthur smiled as his lips ran slow circles over those now perfectly flush cheeks. He murmured low drawing the Marked one closer. "What will it take for you to believe in me?" Everyone else seemed to easy enough, although for the life of him Arthur never knew why. What would it take for this man to fall for more than Arthur's obvious charms?
He would figure it out in the morning after this lust had passed and a clear head could work on riddle solving.
Merlin's mark flared on his back. It's flutter of needs spread down his body and up his neck, but it always centered from that one small space between his shoulder blades.
The prince kissed him with a hand over the mark, another gripping his hair. Bruised lips would lead to bruised everything else. Merlin could feel the need of this man to add more marks, to stake his claim to him forever. Merlin smiled inwardly before letting go to the pleasures of the evening. He would not give the man everything he had, no matter how good it felt to be wanted like this.