Sophinisba Solis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sophinisba) wrote2012-06-30 03:20 pm
sophinisba) wrote2012-06-30 03:20 pm
Entry tags:
Merlin ficlet: Let Them See Me Low
Title: Let Them See Me Low
Fandom: Merlin
Starring: Arthur/Merlin
Wordcount: 746
Rating: R
Contains: Dubious consent, slavery AU
Notes: Written for the "Give Some Fucks (or Die)" challenge at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
summerpornathon. One of my three secret goals for this year's pthon was to write an Arthur/Merlin fic, and I'm happy with how this one turned out! Thanks to themadlurker for talking and looking it over for me.
Summary: A gratuitous "pretending to be master and slave" ficlet.
Links: alone at the AO3, with 72 others at the AO3
"Would it kill you to make little more effort?" Merlin growls as the door shuts behind them.
"Me? What–"
"Lower your voice! That is not how a slave talks to his master."
That is not how a corporal talks to a major, and Merlin knows it. "Look," says Arthur, whispering despite himself, "just because you speak the lingo doesn't mean you're suddenly in charge. If making up some kind of… relationship is the only way to get them to talk to you, then fine. But I'm not just going to bow my head and take your abuse, like–"
"Like somebody who's been conditioned for years to think they're less than a person?" Merlin snaps, and Arthur's shocked into silence. "Don't you see? It's not only information at this point. If you keep talking back and strutting around like some Camelot Academy brat, they'll expect me to punish you for it."
Arthur pictures the marks on the other slaves' backs. He imagines Merlin with a flogger in his hand, bending Arthur over his knee. He hears that strange, commanding voice in his head and feels his face flush.
"And if that doesn't happen," Merlin continues, "it won't be long before they figure out–"
"And then we could–" Arthur stops, swallows. "We really would be enslaved."
"Maybe. They enslave the ones they think they can control." Merlin leans close and takes his hand. "Do you trust me?"
Four years together in the Five Kingdoms Army, with Merlin never leaving his side. There's no way he'd stop trusting this man. "Of course."
"Good. Then for God's sake, follow my lead. It took me a lot of effort to get away from these people in the first place. I sure as hell don't intend to die here."
The Essetians greet Merlin casual tones, and he grins as he answers them. Though he claims to hate it here, his movements are easy and graceful, and these fine tailored robes suit him better than 5K uniforms ever have. Arthur kneels by his feet, doing his best to mimic the other slaves.
An Essetian woman nods at them approvingly as she tugs on a ring in her slave's nipple. The girl moans, and Arthur wonders if she is a captive like he pretends to be.
Everyone's in a better mood now: laughing, kissing, playing. Perhaps they think Merlin did beat him while they were alone, and that's why his behavior's improved. A man Arthur's father's age approaches them and exchanges a few words with Merlin, who threads his fingers through Arthur's hair as he answers, his tone polite but closed off. The man withdraws, frowning, but without harsh words.
"He wanted to taste you," Merlin says to Arthur's questioning look. Raising his voice slightly, though the words will mean nothing to the others, he adds, "But I won't let him, because you're mine."
"Thank you, master," Arthur says, voice cracking with uncertainty and shame. Trust me. Merlin cups his jaw and Arthur leans in, presses his hot face into Merlin's lap.
Arthur's always known Merlin came from Essetir – it's one of the reasons he'll never advance beyond his current rank. What he'd never realized before this mission is that Merlin comes from good family here. He said he never owned a plaything for himself, but he could have expected to acquire one once he took his place in society. Arthur is awed and startlingly, fiercely grateful that Merlin chose to leave all this behind to serve the 5K. With him.
"I want them all to know how grateful I am, though I don't have the words." Arthur reaches into Merlin's robes and takes hold of his half-hard prick. Merlin closes his eyes for a moment.
"Let me make it good for you, master."
Merlin nods.
Arthur's seen Merlin naked dozens of times. Lying in his bunk at night, pulling at his own cock in quick, frustrated strokes, he's thought about him naked thousands of times. But Major Arthur Pendragon would never initiate sexual relations with a subordinate.
Arthur's imagined himself in this very position – granted, without the room full of people. He's wanted to kneel before another man and take his cock in his mouth, let another man (Merlin, why not admit it: he's always wanted Merlin) tangle his fingers in Arthur's hair and push into him, choke him, take him over. But General Pendragon's son would never debase himself in that way.
The Essetian Merlin's captive would. Humiliated, happy, Merlin's Arthur does.
Fandom: Merlin
Starring: Arthur/Merlin
Wordcount: 746
Rating: R
Contains: Dubious consent, slavery AU
Notes: Written for the "Give Some Fucks (or Die)" challenge at
summerpornathon. One of my three secret goals for this year's pthon was to write an Arthur/Merlin fic, and I'm happy with how this one turned out! Thanks to themadlurker for talking and looking it over for me.Summary: A gratuitous "pretending to be master and slave" ficlet.
Links: alone at the AO3, with 72 others at the AO3
"Would it kill you to make little more effort?" Merlin growls as the door shuts behind them.
"Me? What–"
"Lower your voice! That is not how a slave talks to his master."
That is not how a corporal talks to a major, and Merlin knows it. "Look," says Arthur, whispering despite himself, "just because you speak the lingo doesn't mean you're suddenly in charge. If making up some kind of… relationship is the only way to get them to talk to you, then fine. But I'm not just going to bow my head and take your abuse, like–"
"Like somebody who's been conditioned for years to think they're less than a person?" Merlin snaps, and Arthur's shocked into silence. "Don't you see? It's not only information at this point. If you keep talking back and strutting around like some Camelot Academy brat, they'll expect me to punish you for it."
Arthur pictures the marks on the other slaves' backs. He imagines Merlin with a flogger in his hand, bending Arthur over his knee. He hears that strange, commanding voice in his head and feels his face flush.
"And if that doesn't happen," Merlin continues, "it won't be long before they figure out–"
"And then we could–" Arthur stops, swallows. "We really would be enslaved."
"Maybe. They enslave the ones they think they can control." Merlin leans close and takes his hand. "Do you trust me?"
Four years together in the Five Kingdoms Army, with Merlin never leaving his side. There's no way he'd stop trusting this man. "Of course."
"Good. Then for God's sake, follow my lead. It took me a lot of effort to get away from these people in the first place. I sure as hell don't intend to die here."
The Essetians greet Merlin casual tones, and he grins as he answers them. Though he claims to hate it here, his movements are easy and graceful, and these fine tailored robes suit him better than 5K uniforms ever have. Arthur kneels by his feet, doing his best to mimic the other slaves.
An Essetian woman nods at them approvingly as she tugs on a ring in her slave's nipple. The girl moans, and Arthur wonders if she is a captive like he pretends to be.
Everyone's in a better mood now: laughing, kissing, playing. Perhaps they think Merlin did beat him while they were alone, and that's why his behavior's improved. A man Arthur's father's age approaches them and exchanges a few words with Merlin, who threads his fingers through Arthur's hair as he answers, his tone polite but closed off. The man withdraws, frowning, but without harsh words.
"He wanted to taste you," Merlin says to Arthur's questioning look. Raising his voice slightly, though the words will mean nothing to the others, he adds, "But I won't let him, because you're mine."
"Thank you, master," Arthur says, voice cracking with uncertainty and shame. Trust me. Merlin cups his jaw and Arthur leans in, presses his hot face into Merlin's lap.
Arthur's always known Merlin came from Essetir – it's one of the reasons he'll never advance beyond his current rank. What he'd never realized before this mission is that Merlin comes from good family here. He said he never owned a plaything for himself, but he could have expected to acquire one once he took his place in society. Arthur is awed and startlingly, fiercely grateful that Merlin chose to leave all this behind to serve the 5K. With him.
"I want them all to know how grateful I am, though I don't have the words." Arthur reaches into Merlin's robes and takes hold of his half-hard prick. Merlin closes his eyes for a moment.
"Let me make it good for you, master."
Merlin nods.
Arthur's seen Merlin naked dozens of times. Lying in his bunk at night, pulling at his own cock in quick, frustrated strokes, he's thought about him naked thousands of times. But Major Arthur Pendragon would never initiate sexual relations with a subordinate.
Arthur's imagined himself in this very position – granted, without the room full of people. He's wanted to kneel before another man and take his cock in his mouth, let another man (Merlin, why not admit it: he's always wanted Merlin) tangle his fingers in Arthur's hair and push into him, choke him, take him over. But General Pendragon's son would never debase himself in that way.
The Essetian Merlin's captive would. Humiliated, happy, Merlin's Arthur does.