@merthurmicrofic | prompt: penis | words: 2566 | cw: suggestive | I remember seeing this prompt and being like 'hm idk' and have been sitting on this concept for like what feels like a month. So here we are | featuring: Arthur being obsessed with Merlin
He's not really sure why he had to be there to welcome this Lady Mildred, she was a friend of Morgana, okay?
Why did that matter to him?
He's got better things to do.
The knights had a training sessions, there's been strange reports that could be magic near the forest, there's the tournament tomorrow, and even worse Merlin is not here.
Arthur has no problem with him going to care for his mother, that's to be expected (he is worried for poor Hunnith, perhaps he should have tried to go with Merlin-no, no he couldn't). Point stands, him not being here is annoying.
If Merlin were here, Arthur would walk into the throne room and immediately hear a quip about how the Lady Mildred was not up to par with the already maddening rumors about her 'delicate beauty.'
Arthur's sure she was fine looking, but there's no way she could possibly be worth half the castle calling her a 'morning blossom' or whatever it was.
He and Leon entered the throne room, prepared to offer no more than a simple greeting. Contrary to popular belief they did have things to do.
Yet, when he stepped through the door he forgot everything he'd been thinking about.
An etheral looking girl stood not too far away from Morgana, turning to look his way when they entered the room.
Arthur would be embarrassed by the way he fully stopped moving if Leon didn't also go completely still behind him.
She was potentially the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen-and he'd seen plenty of beautiful girls.
Her face was framed by a few short dark curls, the rest tucked back by a white scarf. She had high cheekbones, dusted with a natural rosy hue, perfectly black lashes brought attention to the most strikingly blue eyes he'd ever seen. Her dress's neckline cut straight across the line of her narrow frame, bringing attention to her nearly perfect, slender hourglass form. The faint orange bordering on pink of the dress complimented her pale complexion well, and as the sun shined down on her Arthur swore she appeared to glow.
He's not sure how long he spent staring at her in awe before he came to his senses and realized this was Lady Mildred. Frankly, the rumors weren't cutting it. Nothing he'd heard so far came anywhere near to capturing just how breathtaking this girl was.
He's sure that if Merlin were here he would call him a clotpole, or tell him he was too invested in girls, or something of the like.
Not that he cared what Merlin thought.
He finally got his witts about him when Morgana snickered, which meant he'd probably made a fool of himself.
Yet he stepped forward, "Lady Mildred, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Getting closer to her made it worse. He didn't think it was possible for her to get prettier. But when he took her hand, he noticed the subtle pink of her lips. The straight line of her nose. Her eyes. Heavens above her eyes. He could just stare at them for the next lifetime.
Somehow there was something familiar about her. It made him feel inexplicably warm, like he should be able to pull her close into him and they would just fit.
She said nothing, bowing her head politely to him with a nervous smile.
"Mildred lost her voice to an illness when she was a child," Morgana said next to her.
Arthur frowned for just a second before reigning in his expression. He's sure she's been pitied enough for her affliction.
"But you should know she's quite offended by your tardiness," Morgana teased.
Lady Mildred's eyes widened a fraction and she quickly shook her head, glaring at Morgana. Her lips formed a cute pout as she seemed to ask 'why would you say that?' with only her face.
Arthur was struck again by just how familiar Lady Mildred seemed. He's sure that he'd remember meeting her though.
Still, never missing a chance to mess with Morgana or flatter a pretty girl Arthur put his best foot forward.
"My deepest apologies, my lady," Arthur placed a kiss to her knuckle, lingering longer than strictly necessary, "I hope I can make it up to you in some way."
Morgana's jaw dropped unceremoniously to the floor as she was forced to watch her friend flush a bright shade of red and avert her eyes in clear embarrassment. A shy smile spread across her face as she took back her hand, holding it to her chest.
Morgana went to say something more, scold him perhaps, but he tuned her out when he saw it.
Lady Mildred flattened her hand just above her heart, and drew in her bottom lip just enough to take her teeth over it for a brief fraction of a second. Then, as though she suddenly remembered pain existed, she drew it in again to ease the indent she'd created.
No wonder Morgana was freaking out, this wasn't some childhood friend.
What had she drug Merlin into?
It could be a coincidence, he tried to reason with himself. Plenty of people bite their lip out of habit.
Yet-he'd never seen someone do it the way Merlin did. Like he knew he shouldn't be biting his lip so he corrects himself but he can never help it and it's just a ridiculous cycle.
Not to mention the nose, perfectly straight exactly like Merlin's. High cheekbones, soft complexion, same hair color, same height, same-
Eyes. Arthur had been staring again.
And now he found himself distracted by the gentle, questioning look in Merlin's gaze.
Because loathed as he be to admit it...Merlin really did have the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen. And he's sure, with the right amount of mead, he is not the only person who would say this.
"I can't help but feel like I've met you before," Arthur finally recovered.
Merlin, because this was definitely Merlin he could see it clear as day now, pressed his lips together in that coy way. The way he did when he knew something and wasn't going to tell anyone. It drove Arthur mad.
Merlin shook his head, hands folding neatly in front of himself, expression tilting just so to communicate the perfect 'I'm not sure what you mean' and it was a lie.
And he curses Morgana for her genius. Because no one has the strength to question Merlin when he bats his eyelashes just so and tilts his head that way.
"Perhaps you're thinking of her sister," Morgana says.
Perhaps. If Merlin had a sister.
He'd get her. He'd get Morgana if it was the last thing he ever did. To think she just commandeered his manservant without his permission or any regard for Merlin's duties for some sort of humiliation ritual of hers-nevermind the fact that the whole castle was raving about the most beautiful girl to walk the halls.
And she wasn't even a girl, considering "she" had a penis.
Not that Arthur was thinking about Merlin and what he did or did not have.
How did she think she was going to keep this ruse up?
What could Morgana's end goal possibly be?
Leon had come to greet "Lady Mildred" and damn it how could he not see this was obviously Merlin?
Beauty aside, it's not like they fully changed how he looked.
Not that Merlin was beautiful.
Even worse, and perhaps tragically, Leon seemed absolutely enraptured.
"Rather frail," his father whispers suddenly next to him and he nearly jumps out of his skin. "Morgana is very excited to take Lady Mildred around, Arthur, please watch after them."
His father could not possibly be buying this.
He'd like to say Merlin is anything but frial, he's seen the man take hits that absolutely should have left him otherwise incapacitated, but alas.
Merlin -Lady Mildred- certainly looked frial due to "her" petite frame. Arthur assessed this disguise once more.
He really was thin. He wasn't very broad, he didn't have much muscle to speak of, and his waist-was he wearing a corset?
Didn't matter, actually, Merlin was tougher than he looked (Really fast too, maybe thats why he was so thin, he was running all the time).
He had to suffer the whole day of watching everyone fawn all over Merlin because of course they'd fawn all over him now that they thought he was a girl.
Merlin had never been without one or two bold admirers who weren't put off by his usual dress or actual status. But this was insane.
He failed to see how Merlin becoming a noble lady and putting a dress on suddenly made him more attractive. Well-okay the dress did suit him and Arthur didn't even mean that in a mocking way he thinks the color is what does it.
This needs to stop. For his sanity, specifically.
Now, was it wise to enter a lady's room in the dead of night in his night clothes? Seemly? No.
No, it was not. But he was not entering a lady's room. This was Merlin, for crying out loud.
Yet for some reason his heart still thumped rapidly against his chest when he knocked on the door to Merlin's allotted chambers.
When he opened the door it got worse. Because to top it all off Morgana had lended Merlin a nightgown.
And it was just a nightgown.
Nothing special, just a plain white nightgown with a neckline that sat just under Merlin's collar bone.
Which did absolutely nothing to Arthur at all.
Merlin arched an expectant brow, lips forming a familiar line.
Arthur could basically hear him saying "What is it now?" He knew was on the tip of the servant's tongue.
He didn't wait to be let in, he pushed past Merlin, making sure the door closed behind them.
"Alright you have five seconds to explain to me why Morgana has taken it upon herself to dress you up like a girl to flaunt around Camelot," he cut straight to the chase.
Merlin blinked a few times before a visible tension dropped from his shoulders.
"Ugh it's about time! I swear, you're the only person who seems to have actually caught on! Which is ridiculous, I don't look anything like a girl," Merlin crossed his arms with his usual indignance.
"Debatable." It was intended as a tease, but it left Arthur's throat feeling raw.
Merlin looked the part exceptionally well, actually.
"Whatever." Merlin frowned, "Apparently some Lord...Lord Antoine? Is going to be at the tournament? Morgana wants me to keep him occupied."
Arthur recalled the name well considering he was known for his affinity for beautiful women.
"I told her it wouldn't work and everyone would know, but Gwen says that everyone is talking about Lady Mildred. Which can't be true," Merlin continues, closing the distance between them in a very distracting display.
"It is," Arthur replies, suddenly very aware that this nightgown doesn't quite fit Merlin and is falling slightly off his shoulder.
Merlin looks off to the side, frown deepening, "I don't see why?"
And for some inconceivable reason, Arthur opens his mouth, "People appreciate pretty things, Merlin."
Silence seizes the space between them in an instant, dragging a tension usually reserved for awkward encounters between inexperienced children with it.
Merlin goes to part his lips a few times but nothing happens.
Arthur sits in the wretched tangle of truth and humiliation of what he just admitted, urging death to just take him now.
"Pretty?" Merlin finally squeaks.
A laughable 'no' sits on the tip of Arthur's tongue, what stumbles out as the other shoulder of Merlin's nightgown threatens to fall is much worse.
"You-you think-you believe what they're saying?"
Arthur didn't just believe what they were saying he didn't think they were saying enough.
Merlin turned away from him suddenly, "What am I-you're being an ass right now aren't you? Oh ha ha, like you actually think I'm anything but a dollophead. Okay. Very funny."
Okay yes, he heard the words and tone and knew Merlin was upset with him, but he kept getting drawn back to the fact that Merlin has rather defined shoulders. His neck is fully exposed. And how does one manage to have alluring collar bones?
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Merlin tsks.
Arthur parsed through his options; tell Merlin he really did find him attractive and pretty wasn't a strong enough word be a mile; lie and confirm he was an ass; or try and be more diplomatic and tell Merlin Morgana had just done a good job of dressing him up.
The third seemed like the best one.
Merlin pursed his lips together in a soft pout, and he rolled his eyes in that way he did when he thought Arthur was being 'a clotpole' as he put it.
"Pretty implies there's something more beautiful to be found," Arthur hears himself say.
Kill him now. Cut him down with a sword, shoot him with an arrow, poison him for all he cares just put him out of his misery.
Yet he opens his mouth again, "So. To put it lightly, sure, you're pretty."
Merlin was a bright shade of red he'd not really seen out of his servant.
He bit his lip in that way he usually did.
Somehow the distance between them had become nonexistent.
He's not sure who moves first, he just knows that Merlin's lips are as soft as they look.
And he's not sure when or how but at some point he's laying Merlin down on the bed.
"Arthur-mm I don't-Arthur."
He takes a second, heavy breaths filling the space between them that feels too far which is ridiculous considering he's quite literally on top of Merlin.
"No marks," Merlin threads his hands through Arthur's hair, "I can't cover them."
Arthur would like to argue 'yes everyone in this castle should know you're mine' but that sounds mildly insane. So he keeps the thought tucked away, probably for forever.
He feels Merlin kiss down the line of his jaw, light and playful in a way. A smile dresses Merlin's face as he brings Arthur in for a series of short, sweet kisses.
"You can leave them where no one'll see, how about that?"
Did he really look that desperate?
Didn't matter, the frabic between them needed to go-preferably yesterday.
In what he's willing to admit is an undignified motion he pulls that damn nightgown off Merlin.
Warm candlelight gave even Merlin's pale skin a lively glow, and Arthur found himself feeling as though he'd walked into the throne room this morning once again.
Except this time he was captivated by the subtle definition of Melrin's core, the lines of his hips, the way his chest rose in a single sharp motion when the cold air gained access to his person.
For a single moment-a brief bout of absolute madness-Arthur felt jealous of the very air that touched Merlin for getting to touch all of him at once.
That's when his own shirt was tossed aside and he began making good use of the permission he'd been given to leave dark, bruising kisses down the pieces of Merlin no one but him should see.
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