Work Text:
Hengroen's hooves pound against the forest floor, kicking up dirt as she canters down the road. Her chest swells in great heaves. The ride is pushing her to her limits.
Arthur's focus lies on the path ahead. He's been following this trail for the past three days, a relentless pursuit of his… His best friend? His manservant? His lover? None of these words convey who, what exactly Merlin is to Arthur.
His.
It's that simple. He belongs at Arthur's side.
Regret makes his mouth dry. He should have reacted better, controlled himself. It had been a shock, to say the least, to discover that Merlin had magic. It was evil. Yet Merlin was not. By the time Arthur had reconciled the contradiction, Merlin had vanished.
Nothing else mattered now, except getting Merlin back.
The forest breaks, revealing a small farming village. Arthur and his knights—newer ones, without any ties to Merlin—ride straight through, ignoring the way the villagers have to throw themselves out of the way to avoid being trampled.
They finally stop at the other side of the village, at a small hut on the edge.
"Knock it down," Arthur commands, nodding at the door. He drops down from Hengroen. McKay takes her reins as Geraint steps up to the door. With a single kick, the door shatters. Voices cry out inside. Geraint disappears inside, then reappears moments later, dragging out a man, woman, and two children. Tears spill from their frightened eyes, while the father struggles against Geraint's grip.
"Where is he?" Arthur asks. Though desperation claws at his throat, he keeps his voice calm and even.
"Wh-Who, milord?" the wife whimpers. Her knuckles are white, clutching tightly to her children. The tighter she holds, the more they squirm to get away.
Arthur stares, unwilling to repeat himself.
"He's gone!" the father yells. "We didn't know he was a criminal, milord! He offered to help our daughter—"
Arthur doesn't listen to the rest. His eyes catch on the corn stalks shifting in the distance. There's no wind today. A moment later, a figure emerges from the field.
Merlin glances back. Even across the distance, their eyes meet. Then Merlin turns, disappearing past the treeline.
"Stay here," Arthur commands. "Hold them."
It's time to bring Merlin home.
He moves steadily forward, following Merlin's trail of broken branches and disturbed leaves. There's no need to run.
Soon Merlin is back within his sight, still quite a way ahead. He throws fearful glances over his shoulder. Suddenly he falls down, sprawling into the dirt, before scrambling back onto his feet.
It makes Arthur smile. Same, clumsy Merlin as always. The magic doesn't have to change anything.
He's not even angry anymore. Of course Merlin ran. Is running. He's afraid.
Arthur just has to show him that there's no need to be. Arthur would never hurt Merlin.
There are more effective ways to bind him to his side.
The next time Merlin trips, he doesn't get up.
Arthur pauses, watching the way Merlin's shoulders shake. Is he crying? The mere thought squeezes at Arthur's heart. He starts forward again.
Merlin stands, facing Arthur. His eyes are gold and dangerous. When he stretches out his hand, the wind kicks up. Branches and rocks fly through the air at Arthur.
He doesn't flinch or dodge. It's not necessary.
None of the objects touch him. Merlin would never hurt him.
Merlin's face twists in desperation and anguish, but Arthur ignores the storm surrounding them until he's just beyond Merlin's reach. His hand slowly lowers as his golden eyes look everywhere but Arthur's face.
A dark desire seizes Arthur's heart. He could throw Merlin over his shoulder, dragging him back to Camelot. He could take him to his bed and ravage him, marking and claiming him so completely that there's no doubt about who he belongs to.
Arthur lets out a steady breath, banishing the image from his mind. He has to take this slow—careful and deliberate. Like Merlin is a frightened fawn.
Slowly he lifts a hand. He waits a beat, but Merlin doesn't pull away. Pleased, he brushes his knuckles against Merlin's cheek gently. A shudder runs through his body. Arthur's other hand cups the side of Merlin's face. His thumbs wipe away the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. The gold flickers away, returning to his captivating blue.
"Let's go home, Merlin," Arthur murmurs.
"Alright." The rest of the flight leaves Merlin; his knees unlock, causing him to stumble closer to Arthur.
Arthur leans down, resting their foreheads together. Merlin's eyes flutter close. Satisfaction warms his breastbone. He'll never let go of Merlin again.
They walk back to the village, Arthur's arm slung over Merlin's shoulders. They're hunched in apprehension, but it's fine. Arthur can take his time.
The knights are waiting where Arthur left them. The rest of the village has gathered around, radiating a tense and uneasy atmosphere.
"Your Majesty! You found him!" McKay exclaims with a grin.
Arthur takes Hengroen's reins from him. "Let's return to Camelot." He lets Merlin swing into the saddle first. Before he can join him, Geraint speaks up,
"What about these people?"
"Kill them," Arthur says dismissively. They had tried to keep him from Merlin. It was a shame, but he had plenty of subjects. There's only one Merlin.
The villagers cry out in dismay, pleading for mercy.
"Don't!" Merlin joins in, his expression horrified. He always cares so much, even about insignificant things. It's something Arthur adores about him. His eyes plead with Arthur to stop this.
After a calculated pause, Arthur holds up a hand to stay his knights. "Alright." He glances back. "You heard him. Leave them alone."
Relief blossoms in a smile on Merlin's lips. Arthur's hand tightens around the reins. He wants nothing more than to drag Merlin in a kiss. Instead he mounts up on Hengroen, sitting behind Merlin. This will have to do for now. At least he has Merlin in his arms.
Arthur doesn't wait for his knights and sets off. It's time to go home.
He won't lock Merlin up. Won't restrain or restrict him. He can go wherever, do whatever, talk to whomever. Whatever he desires, Arthur will grant. Whatever he wants, Arthur will do. Then Merlin will not see the cage, will not even realize that his wings are clipped. He'll choose to stay at Arthur's side willingly.
Merlin belongs to Arthur forever.