Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11443488.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      King_Arthur:_Legend_of_the_Sword_(2017)
  Relationship:
      Arthur/Vortigern_(King_Arthur:_Legend_of_the_Sword)
  Character:
      Arthur_(King_Arthur:_Legend_of_the_Sword), Vortigern_(King_Arthur:_Legend
      of_the_Sword)
  Additional Tags:
      Bondage, Uncle/Nephew_Incest, Inexperienced_Victim_Who_Doesn't_Know_What
      They're_Consenting_To
  Collections:
      Nonconathon_2017
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-16 Words: 1843
****** Be careful darling you might fall ******
by nonnymouse
Summary
     Arthur keeps running away from the palace to have adventures.
     Vortigern needs to teach him a lesson, as his king and adoptive
     father.
Notes
     Title from "I Want You" by Elvis Costello
     Writing from a canon I couldn't review was an interesting challenge,
     especially when trying to develop how Arthur's character might turn
     out in a raised-by-Vortigern AU. I used what clips on YouTube I could
     to help refresh my memory. I hope I managed to make the characters
     ring true.
One of Catia's birds chirped inside its cage, the birdsong making Vortigern
wish Arthur was as obedient as Catia. Arthur had been found and returned safely
to the palace, where he belonged. But how long would he stay, unless Vortigern
taught him why he worried about his daughter and nephew when they were outside
his protection?
Sometimes regrets lingered like dark shadows not quite visible out of the
corner of his eye, but his two remaining loves helped him believe in the
righteousness of his actions. The fear of the people was a heady thing, and so
was the love of his children. Losing his brother, wife, and sister-in-law in a
single day had wounded him even more than he'd expected. His sister-in-law had
been a lovely woman, gentle and fair. His wife had done nothing but love him,
and he loved her in turn. And his brother had always pushed him to be better,
to hone his skills to serve their country. He became the man, and king, he was
now because of his brother's love.
He wasn't sure what he'd become if he lost Arthur or Catia. His many enemies,
he knew, would love to use them against him. Especially Arthur. He had to keep
them safe to help his lost ones rest easy, too.
He saw the three of them in his children. Catia had grown into her mother's
quiet dignity and noble poise. When he was young, Arthur had reminded him of
Igraine, always caring for the weak and wanting to stand between them and
trouble. But as he matured, Vortigern could see Uther in him more and more. He
was an ambitious lad, and cunning. If one way was blocked, he searched until he
found a path that went around the obstruction. Vortigern had not trained Arthur
to fight, yet he still found ways to bribe guards into teaching him the basic
stances and brawler's tricks.
That is, until Arthur noticed that the guards he suborned were always
reassigned to more precarious positions.
It had been a dreadful week when he'd thought Arthur lost forever after the
death of his parents. He had the sword and the kingdom, but Arthur was lost.
Thankfully, he'd been found by one of Vortigern's captains, sheltered by the
whores in a brothel. After that scare, Vortigern kept Arthur close. Whenever
Arthur ran, he remembered that early fear. And whenever Arthur was returned to
him, he showed him how much he loved him and needed him. Apparently, Arthur
needed a stronger reminded to make the rebellion stop.
This time he'd run, as he so often did, to the brothel where he'd been found
about a decade ago. He felt a bond with the women who sheltered him,
apparently, and seemed blind to any issues that might arise from a young prince
incognito relaxing in a low-class brothel.
Vortigern had worked hard to smother that willfulness and keep Arthur close,
where he was safe, but clearly harsher measures were needed.
He had his guard deliver Arthur to his chambers. He'd taken a moment in the
kitchen to calm himself with tea and birdsong, and now he was ready to
discipline his nephew with a clear mind and steady purpose.
===============================================================================
"Do you know what could happen to you?" he asked, as he stormed through the
doors to confront Arthur. He looked small and fair in Vortigern's palatial bed
draped in black furs. His cheeks were smooth still, and his features a pleasing
mixture of Uther and Igraine's. There were many who would see his pretty face
and assume he was naught but a common doxy. Vortigern looked at Arthur and saw
the tempting whore those filthy men would see when they looked at him.
Arthur rolled his eyes, ignorant of the danger in the way of a boy who thinks
he's a man. He started talking quickly, as if Vortigern could be tricked as
easily as a corrupt guard. "Uncle," he said, "There are fights in the brothel,
but I know enough to protect myself. You might not like me fighting, but I've
learned. I'm not Catia—"
Vortigern cut off Arthur's argument. "You think your cousin helpless? She
simply has a better sense of danger than you." Catia might long to escape her
cage, but at least she understood the need for it without need of a
demonstration. He breathed out, trying to release his anger. He was going to be
methodical and exact about this. Not emotional. "I shall have to show you what
there is to fear."
Arthur stood, laughing and acting as if the matter weren't serious. He lightly
boxed at the air. "Come then, Uncle, teach me your lesson! Let me show you that
I can take anything you dish out."
Vortigern shook his head sadly at Arthur. Boxing. "A beating is far from the
worst of my fears, nephew."
He concentrated, letting a spell gather in his hands. When he rushed his nephew
and pinned him to the bed, it flowed into Arthur's skin. It was harmless, but
would make Arthur more docile and keep him from hurting himself trying to stop
Vortigern.
Arthur struggled to push him off, kicking at him when he couldn't get any
leverage with his arms, but Arthur was still growing into a man's shape and
lived a soft life. Even without the power flowing through Vortigern's veins, he
could hold Arthur down. His older brother had always seemed like a great bear
to Vortigern, but perhaps he had been weedy too when he was younger and
Vortigern had simply been too small to realize it.
Vortigern pulled his knife from his belt and used it to cut away the cheap
clothes Arthur had scrounged. They failed to make him look poor and
unimportant; he was well fed and clean, down to his fingernails. He was sure
Arthur swanned about in town like the prince he was, too. It wasn't in him to
act humble.
Arthur kept struggling, but his wrists were caught fast in Vortigern's other
hand. "If you stop being so disobedient, this lesson will go more quickly,"
Vortigern told him. "I regret that I must teach you this."
Arthur looked vulnerable if Vortigern only looked at his bared flesh, unmarked.
He'd worked to give his nephew a comfortable life, with everything he needed
within his reach. It wouldn't do to spoil him through overindulgence, however.
The only thing more the outside world had to offer Arthur was danger. Vortigern
had to do this, for Arthur's own good. Because his eyes were not those of a
vulnerable boy. In them, there was a dangerous spark of youthful defiance.
He turned Arthur onto his stomach and bound him with the chains he'd had the
guards deliver from the dungeons. The heavy shackles bit into Arthur's limbs
whenever he pulled against them, and Vortigern feared he'd have a ring of
bruises to mark where the shackles had been. It was unfortunate, but might
serve as a useful reminder.
Turning to the amphora of oil a maid had delivered while he waiting for Arthur
to return, Vortigern pondered how much he should use to ease his way. He had no
desire to damage Arthur, to see blood spilling down those pale legs. But
neither did he want to make his passage too slick. Arthur must be afraid of
what the men in the brothel might do to him.
Decided, he spilled some oil over his fingers and rubbed it in circle's at the
opening of Arthur's hole. He tried to touch lightly, to encourage some
relaxation of the muscles, but Arthur was too tense beneath him. There was
nothing for Vortigern to do but shove a finger roughly into his hole to spread
the oil inside. Arthur cried out, convincing Vortigern that his plan would
work.
"You must learn, Arthur, how you tear apart my heart with worry when you
misbehave and disappear. I do what I do to keep you safe, because I love you. I
ask for your obedience not only as your king, but as one who considers himself
your father. I have taken on Uther's responsibilities to you, and I could not
forgive myself if I let his memory be disgraced."
He judged that Arthur was prepared enough to prevent serious damage, and turned
his attention to removing his own trousers and oiling his cock. Arthur was
begging for forgiveness, promising not to go out without a guard again, but
Vortigern knew he still didn't know the truth of what there was to fear. He had
not experienced the worst yet. These were empty promises.
He thrust inside Arthur, surprised by how satisfying he found it to be buried
within Arthur's body. He'd remained celibate since his wife died, too
heartbroken to find solace in another. However, he loved Arthur, and sleeping
with him was not meaningless the way it would be if he simply sought out a
woman for physical pleasure only. Arthur was as tight and warm as any good
fuck, but he was also Vortigern's beloved nephew. It was a shame they were
sharing this intimacy in such poor circumstances.
Vortigern set to with a quick pace, not feeling a need to draw this lesson out.
There was no need to linger over the sensation of Arthur's body clinging to his
cock. "Do you know what I fear now?" he asked, snapping his hips forward and
feeling Arthur jolt in response, the chains rattling against the headboard.
"Yes!" Arthur yelled in a strangled voice. "Yes, Uncle, I'm sorry."
Vortigern could hear the thickness of his voice, and knew his nephew must be
crying. Since Arthur had accepted his lesson, Vortigern no longer had to solely
punish him. He reached down to find that Arthur's cock was already partially
erect from the stimulus. He stroked it, eking out an orgasm from Arthur
surprisingly easily. He supposed that was one advantage of youth.
However, it made Arthur even tighter and harder to thrust into. Vortigern had
to work for those final few strokes to finish himself, Arthur grunting
insensibly beneath him and his pale back arching most becomingly as Vortigern
pulled Arthur's hips back against himself.
He withdrew and redressed while considering Arthur laying limply on the bed,
limbs stretched wide by the chains and come spilling from his reddened hole. It
was a sight, he discovered, that he'd be happy to see in better circumstances.
Efficiently, he undid the chains and wrapped Arthur in a fur blanket, holding
him close and rocking him to sleep as if he were a babe again. "Arthur, I
couldn't bear it if any of those men did this to you. Sex can be an act of
great love and pleasure, and I would prefer to be teaching you that lesson." He
kissed Arthur's blond head and stroked his hair, the way he had when Arthur was
a child. "Please, my boy, don't make me punish you in such a way again. Be
good, and obey. I will protect you from the dangers out there."
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