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Uther squeezed his eyes shut and counted to ten. He and Arthur's servant were pressed together, chest to back, the boy's messy hair tickling Uther's nose with each fidget. The clench of his teeth hurt Uther's jaw and the throb in his temple crept towards unbearable.
The boy shifted his weight from foot to foot like a jittery little rabbit. How Arthur managed to tolerate a servant with such a mental affliction was beyond him.
"For heaven's sake, boy. You will stop dancing about or I will have you flogged."
A short, high-pitched squeak slipped past Merlin's lips before he clamped a hand over his mouth. "Sorry!" He mumbled the word into his palm, adding a frazzled, “Your highness.”
There was an innocence to Merlin's irreverence that Uther hadn't noticed before, a sincerity that was almost endearing. The boy was calm for all of the count of twenty-nine, then he began to bounce on his toes as though he was unaware of his own body's actions. Merlin's head knocked his chin on the next bounce and Uther huffed. He placed a gloved hand on each of Merlin's hips, squeezed them and pressed down until he heard the thud of Merlin's heels hit the floorboard. He leaned forward and whispered, "Be still," in Merlin's ear.
Uther closed his eyes again, relishing the blessed silence, the fragile peace of the moment. His headache lessened a fraction. His fingers tightened on Merlin's hips in approval and a soft whimper carried the inches between them. Merlin's hips were narrow and bony beneath his hands, still the build of a young boy. Uther could feel Merlin shaking, could hear the ragged drag of his breath. The boy was terrified. They had banged and kicked on the wardrobe walls until they'd exhausted themselves. It was like hitting solid rock.
"You need to remain calm. I will find a way out."
"What do you think happened – I mean –" Merlin cleared his throat. "Do you know how we ended up here? Er – your highness."
"A sorceress was in the castle last night." She had laughed as she spoke, Uther remembered. There had been a cruel twist to her smile that implied she knew something important. It had chilled him. "A truly evil woman. Before everything went black, she had said, 'The door will open when all is revealed.'"
Uther heard a sharp intake of breath, and a tremble carried through the boy's body. Uther pulled Merlin to him. It was frightening, he knew, to hear of such magic, to know such people walk the streets of Camelot. This helpless boy was exactly the type of person he needed to protect.
"Don’t give up hope. Her powers are strong but she is only toying with us. I will find a way free and, at daybreak, she will lose her head.”
"Oh, God."
Uther stroked his thumb on the small of Merlin's back where his breeches met his tunic. "I need to think," he whispered and bowed his head; it fell to Merlin's shoulder.
He focused on the sorceress's words. There had to be something in what she had said to explain this. His thumbs idly traveled along the edge of Merlin's breeches, soothing the boy who was trembling now more than ever. There was something about this boy, a vulnerability that moved him. Uther felt the draw he hadn't felt in ages: the need for intimacy, to hold someone close and keep them safe.
Uther's head shot up. "You! It's you!"
Merlin froze, his back stiff beneath Uther’s hands. "I don't – um – what?" Merlin croaked, still staring at the wardrobe door.
"Of course!" Uther's mind raced, trying to catch up with the direction his thoughts had taken. "She chose you. It didn't occur to me until now. But why? Why, indeed!"
"What? What?" The poor boy's voice was barely over a whisper and laced with panic. Uther smiled. So much sincerity in this young man. No guise at all.
Uther tugged at Merlin's hips again, earning a soft thud as Merlin's thin body bounced back against his. "That vile woman. She must have known. Must have seen things in me that I hadn't thought of in years."
"Sire?"
"You, Merlin"— he lowered his voice, speaking into Merlin's neck —"were brought here to tempt me." Uther inhaled, slow and deep. The scent of armour polish, hay and youth assaulted him. It brought him back to his misspent early years, the tumbles with stable boys and fresh young knights eager to please their prince. Oh yes, she was a genius for picking Merlin. Uther nuzzled just below the boy's ear and his tongue snuck out to taste the salty skin of his neck.
"Gah!" Merlin squealed just as a flash of yellow filled the small space, reflecting in Merlin's eyes. The door opened.
"A revelation," Uther breathed, ashamed at his own weakness.
They tumbled out of the wardrobe into the empty room. Merlin rubbed his neck, scratching at the place Uther’s mouth had been. His eyes flittered about, his hands twisting over each other in constant movement.
Uther watched Merlin’s pale face for a moment, letting his mind drift to images of the boy beneath him: flushed, damp hair clinging to his forehead, wide eyes eager to please. How tempting it was. He shook the fantasy away.
"It cannot be, Merlin."
Merlin's head snapped up. His mouth parted as though he were unsure how to reply. Uther gave him a sad smile.
"I cannot have such a distraction as you. The sorceress chose well, but Camelot is my only love. No matter the cold bed she provides."
Merlin blinked, a blotchy pink rising on his cheeks. "Um, okay."
Uther watched Merlin retreat down the hall, running as though the hounds of hell were chasing him. His crown pressed in on his temples, refocusing him. He had a sorceress to catch.