Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2070321.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Merlin_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Morgana/Arthur_Pendragon_(Merlin), Morgana/Arthur/Other_(implied_future)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon, Half-Sibling_Incest, Genderfuck, Underage_
      (puberty/post-puberty), Summer_Pornathon_2014
  Series:
      Part 2 of Merlin_Summer_Pornathon_2014
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-08-03 Words: 739
****** In Kind ******
by Malu_3_(Grainne)
Summary
     "If you will train me as a knight, I'll teach you how to please a
     lady."
Notes
     Entry for Challenge 2: Secrets and Lies
See the end of the work for more notes
She resists the idea for years, grieving, resenting the loss of her imagined
future, but there is a glare to Arthur, a strong, dazzling aura that clings
despite his faults. It draws her to him and irritates her in equal measure.
She dreams of him and, at sixteen, detests feeling like a pawn. If this is to
be her fate, she will have a say in it. She corners him in the stables after a
hunt.
"If you will train me as a knight, I'll teach you how to please a lady."
"Morgana!" He looks up, startled, from stroking Llamrei's neck. "Why on earth
would I – ?"
"As a courtesy to your future wife," she cuts in.
He laughs. "And that's you, is it?"
"Well it certainly won't be a fat groom or one of your toadying squires!" She's
not thinking as she says it, it's pure spite, but she sees the way his eyes go
round before icing over, sees the way his jaw clenches, colour staining his
cheeks.
Oho, she thinks, remembering Arthur at ten, eleven, twelve, watching Uther's
stallion let down its massive cock; staring at that thieving kitchen boy being
spanked bare-arsed in full view of the court; trying not to stare at the
acrobats in nothing but loincloths, skin gleaming with oil.
Lately, all the bright eyes and bare cleavage in the castle are no match for
one word of praise from his favourite knights.
Aha, she thinks, and just like that her future seems less bleak.
"Or should I say," she says, pressing in close, "if you will train me as a
knight, I will…"
She whispers the rest in his ear, hears his breath catch, feels him shiver.
"There's no dishonour in it this way," she promises. "No danger. It will be our
secret."
They swear on their dead parents' graves.
                                     * * *
It's only her voice at first. Her will. She bribes handsome guards to strip off
and wrestle in the courtyard, urging Arthur to watch from his window. She
stands behind him and tells him it's all right, that she knows his thing is
getting all stiff and red in his trousers.
"Take it out and touch it," she says, "like you do at night, but with eyes
open."
Then one time, impatient, she reaches around and takes him in hand. She doesn't
expect to enjoy it, but it feels good in her hand and he makes the most
gratifying sound, almost as if he's been wounded.
"Ah," he cries, letting go and bracing himself on the window ledge, straining
into her grip. "Gods…oh, that's…Morgana."
His naked bottom presses hard against her, and she squeezes her thighs
together, giving an experimental thrust. There is a surge of pleasure, of
power; by the time he spends in her hand she feels as if there are sparks
flying under her skin.
"Hold," she gasps, clamping her arm around his hips. She shoves her other hand
between them and thrusts harder, riding her own fingers cradled in the cleft of
his arse.
By the time she comes he is hard again, flushed as red as he ever gets, and he
won't meet her eyes. He is trembling with need. Feeling benevolent, she kisses
his shoulder and runs her palms over his hips.
"Go on," she says, rubbing all the wet – his and hers both – into his skin. He
surprises her by pressing his left hand over hers, inching it back as he
spreads his legs as wide as his fallen trousers will allow. He remembers
himself then, jerking his hand away, but it's too late. She knows what he's
after.
"I think I shall dress as a boy next time." She reaches to cup and squeeze his
tender balls, then trails two fingers up behind, rubbing at all the smooth,
sweaty skin, the little pucker hidden away between his legs. Like this, all
messy, he feels as slick as a girl. "Borrow a fat pestle and a bottle of oil."
He groans, now tugging furiously at his prick.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you, having something just…here?" She presses a
fingertip to his hole, keeps it there as he spurts for the second time.
There must be a way to rig up some sort of harness, she thinks. And perhaps,
someday, she'll find them a third, a pretty warm mouth who won't mind going
down on his knees and is good at keeping secrets.
                                     ~ * ~
End Notes
     ETA: And now for the love of Morgana go feast your eyes on Alby
     Mangroves gorgeous vision of what such a future might look like with
     Merlin as the pretty warm mouth in her artwork The_Drawing_of_the
     Three!
     ETA 2: This fic has been podficced by the amazing and gorgeous-voiced
     sophinisba (cue delighted flailing) and you can and should go feast
     your ears on that here_on_LJ!
     ETA 3 (2015): If you enjoyed this and are not averse to an eventual
     Arthur/Morgana/Merlin threesome, please check out The_Triple_Crown, a
     continuation/much-expanded version of this ficlet inspired by Alby's
     aforementioned The Drawing of the Three.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!