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The hot sun beat upon Merlin’s shoulders; the saddle he rode bore heavily upon the lowering eggs. The knights laughed too loud for Merlin’s pain, and it took everything in his power to not push up on the bearing of his brood to give himself some reprieve.
His struggle for immunity was ever drawn out, and fouled his mood despite the fact that he was at the back of the group for most of the day. He knew it was a ridiculous notion to feel unguarded around six knights he’s known for a minimum of two years. But regardless of familiarity; he felt exposed. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end while his heart pulsed audibly in his chest and throat. It was a blessing that the eggs never swelled his abdomen to a degree that was obvious, even under his tunic belt it was hardly noticeable unless he was bare-chested.
He abruptly held back a clipped whine, squeezing his thighs when the labour pain from high in hips settled low. With a strained breath he sat back, rocking his hips slightly forward to easy the pressure against his aching sheath.
Slowly, Merlin looked down the road, past Arthur and Gwaine’s discussion to the fork on the horizon with the small sign jutting out, it was too far for relief. Merlin wished the village was closer, wished that Uther hadn’t sent his son out to see if the rumours of a magical hippogriff was spotted were true and that its very name deserved extinctive measures. Merlin despised how he dragged out by Arthur despite saying that he would have liked to stay. Merlin wanted nothing more than to birth his eggs and return them to the earth, quietly, discreetly, and mourn their loss until next the next batch would begin to form.
With another contraction Merlin leaned forward, holding back another wince through carefully timed exhales that puffed air into his eyes, already stinging with prepared grief.
“Merlin?” He startled as Lancelot slowed to his side. “Are you well?”
“Bit of a stomachache, nothing too serious.”
“Do you require rest?” Lancelot reached for him and he pulled away, not wanting to reveal the static of magic that wound tightly around his body to suddenly protect the eggs.
“No, I think I’ll sleep it off when we arrive at the village.”
Lancelot stared at him cautiously, sighing softly with disappointment that Merlin nearly snapped at. “Very well, just tell me what you need Merlin. His Highness wouldn’t mind a break.” Merlin clenched his jaw, gnawing through pain and nearly surmounting frustration.
“Thank you, Lancelot. But I’m alright, just road-weary.” Lancelot hummed in agreement. “Go ride with Elyan, I don’t want to share my affliction.” Merlin forced himself to smile.
“I have a stronger gut than you, Merlin. Because I actually go to the tavern.” Merlin forced himself to chuckle through another contraction. “But as you wish, I’ll leave you to wallow in your sickness. Just don’t forget to drink water.” Merlin wished he could, but his body would force him to throw it up, it craved only the raw magic of the earth, the berries the Gods grew deep in the forests, incredibly rare to Merlin and a delicacy, it would be a luxury to indulge in it and nourish what his magic begged for. The balance of nature was tipped, crying out as it slowly bled while trying to keep the ties of itself spread wide enough to keep the magical forests protected and druids satiated and it pained Merlin, made every touch or encounter with iron fray his nerves and nearly burn his skin. He was glad for the precautions he took but not the sweat that trickled down his neck and back from concentrating.
He found himself folding over himself, discreetly holding the different pulses humming beneath his skin and between his hips. At first Merlin was terrified of the changes he was born with and eventually grew into, his mother warned him of what might come before he left for Camelot and Merlin remembered dreading it. Especially the first time he experienced labour alone, in his room, warded by magic and quietly cradling the still warm eggs before having to return them back to the All-Mother to keep at least a portion of her need satiated.
He eventually did seek help, he approached Kilgharrah his laughter echoed the walls with delight when Merlin asked for answers, how to find a way to ease the pain and find a way to fertilise the barely born eggs without another person, Kilgharrah offered nothing but more laughter and taunts but mentioned his father’s blood was responsible for the new monthly labour. Angered, Merlin left the beast to its roaring exclamations and jeers directed at Merlin all the way out of the dungeons.
Afterwards, he managed to sneak into the library, unlocked the restricted section deep in the night, where he read everything he could on Dragon Lords. Mating, courtship, nesting habits, life-span, alchemy benefits of yolks from non-fertilised broods. What it meant to have a mate to share a bond with. Something he craved, but couldn’t have, something that was an instinctive yearn when he looked at the brilliant blond hair of Arthur, who rode with joy. He always wanted to be the source of the bright smile that warmed Merlin’s blood, he wanted his Prince to look at no one else but him, the sense of possession even more profound now that his eggs were starting to lower. He grit his teeth with a tight uneven exhale, gripping the reigns of his horse to distract and balance. She chuffed low, and he reached to pat her neck, shushing her and easing his pain with it.
Merlin’s spine shivered constantly by the time they arrived at the fork. The village was only a few more miles away. The eggs were descending further though, Merlin couldn’t hide his shaking and when Arthur looked back at Merlin he dropped his chin, hoping that he hid his pain well enough.
“Shall we?” Arthur turned to his group, and for a moment Lancelot motioned his head towards Merlin, Arthur stayed by the post while Merlin urged his mare forward, knowing he couldn’t escape Arthur meeting his stride. “Are you well?”
“Stomach ache, don’t concern yourself with the village idiot.” He winced, the pain delving deeper, he tried not to cry out when he adjusted himself from the ache.
“We’ll be at the village soon enough, are you in need of rest?” Merlin shook his head, drawing away from Arthur when he reached for his leg. Arthur flinched, his exhale patient, long, and filled with concern that warmed Merlin’s chest.
“I’m well, Arthur, please. Let us focus on the road.” Merlin whispered, he thighs squeezing to prevent himself from falling off this horse. Arthur huffed and adjusted himself quickly before kicking his gelding onward. The pain became worse as the day continued, by mid-afternoon Merlin could barely breathe; the knights opted to take a break in the treeline while Merlin stayed near the trail. Breathing heavily while he leaned on the horn of his saddle.
“Merlin, you need to rest.” Arthur came up to his side, his body clenched in fear of being found out. Shocking Merlin by the sudden echo of the once steady contractions flaring in ferocity the sudden loss of his hearing made Merlin whimper when numbed prickling scuttled cruelly down his arms.
“I need to lay down.” He mumbled.
“Do so then, I’ll get one of the knights to set up your bed roll.” Merlin shook his head.
“I wish to lie in a bed.” Merlin’s bones ached with the expansion of his pelvis, steady and eager for laying and copulation that Merlin would never be able to satiate without the possibility of losing his life entirely. Arthur sighed, glancing back at the group who were murmuring low over their water skins and bread.
“I’ll have one of the knights escort you to the village—” Merlin shook his head, hiding from the contact on his thigh, he tried not to shiver as his magic responded to the familiar touch with a purr slowly trying to attach itself to the comfort Arthur offered.
“I can ride on my own, I’ll be fine Arthur. I just need to lie down, not temporarily. I don’t think I’ll be able to get on my horse again if I hop off.”
“Very well. Will you be okay at the inn?”
“Yes, sire. Just need you to stop nagging me with your weird attempt at comfort.” Arthur smirked.
“Snarky, dumbass.”
“Prat.” Merlin whispered, hoping the tears that prickled from the pain didn’t fall from his cheeks.
“Merlin, I am serious, be safe.”
“I will be.” Merlin reassured and tutted his mare forwards into the sun again. Merlin occasionally glanced back, ensuring that he was alone before slipping his hand under his tunic to adjust and hold the brood. He shuddered with relief, cringing briefly when another contraction took his breath and the eggs settled even lower. He grinned sympathetically at the small raise of his flesh, the tenderness he palmed his stomach with helped ease the drop in his heart as the hour of grief approached.
It was near dusk when he entered the village, wrapped in his travel blanket to hide his pained shivering. The smell of bread, ale, and fresh herbs taunted Merlin’s stomach. He hated its stench and how it forced itself to bloom into a headache. Usually, he would have loved to be by Arthur, meandering and observing the offered delicacy of the border town, but if he lingered long he would be found or end up vomiting bile.
He felt lucky that the urge to retreat was far greater, his skin was starting to burn with the need for rest. He wished he was back in his room at the castle, where he could stock up on what he needed and store himself away until he could leave. But here, there were too many strange scents, the heaviness of a forge crafting iron boiled his blood despite being at the other end of the vast market. The human-ness of his surroundings angered his magical instincts, and the frustration of having to sneak away again had finally pushed tears from his eyes.
He hardly led his mare towards the stable and inn, only gesturing her vaguely when the pain wasn’t tearing into spine. When it started again, he wasn’t sure what was progress or his body holding onto his brood out of fear, either pain blurred his vision and rang through his ears as loud as the pyre-bell back at Camelot.
His shoulders dropped when he turned down the final street towards the inn. Glancing enviously at the laughter from women heavy with their own children and tatting at cloth while the day ended. He kept his head down and approached the stable, struggling to lower himself from his mount.
With a quiet sob he tried again, clutching at his stomach with another leg-numbing pull over the leather saddle. He startled and sighed when his mare lowered herself to the ground, her front knees folding for Merlin to raise his leg over and stand. He fetched a piece of silver offering it hesitantly to the stable boy and shakily placed it upon their palm. “Unsaddle, wash, and care for her, I’ll add another piece if you’re able to oil my saddle and groom her tail and mane.”
“You have my word, I’ll do it Ser!” The young one gasped, he grinned and fetched another piece then took his pack, and saddle bags. “Thank you, Ser!” Merlin turned and with a sway of pain leaned upon the stable entrance, he breathed slowly, centring himself before a well-meaning adult caught him. For once he hoped he appeared like a drunk as he opened the door to a stuffy and incense charged hall, the windows were open, rafters handing banners and candle soaked wax. Luckily, no one paid him mind, too engrossed over cards, dice, and stories. He approached the house-wife, blinking through spot of black as his pale hand rested atop the counter.
“Are there any rooms available? Quiet ones?”
“Just one, good-man. Costs extra, meant for noble folk.” She looked him over, stilling her hands with a twitch of her brow.
“How much? I have a gold piece and five silver.”
“Two gold.” He nearly sobbed through another contraction, the space was too loud, too much. It unsettled his instinct for quiet, dark, safe, he adjusted his bags higher on his shoulder.
Merlin huffed, swallowing down his pain. “One gold, ten silver.”
“Gold and twenty.” He dug through his pouch and set down the charge.
“If a man named Arthur arrives, do not tell him my room please.”
The house-wife tutted, “what he do?”
“I need quiet, been riding saddle all day.”
“Well, I’ll have to charge you that gold if you want privacy.” Merlin shuddered, his heart startling when he heard hooves.
“Fine.” He gritted out and slid her the piece. “Thank you, good-wife.”
“Be well, ser.” She said as he was given his room key and carefully he paced himself through the back door and into the quiet, deep hall. His hands were trembling with pain, sweat soaked while he slotted in the key and entered the cold space.
He waved his hand towards the fireplace, the logs and light flickering to life while he slowly eased his sore body into the softness of the mattress, he hadn’t expected such a nice room, but the key matched the cloth upon the door.
He reached to place his key on the night stand, dropping his bags on the floor and placed his blanket inside before he settled back to grab the edge of the frame and lean forward to stretch out the pain. He cried out softly while he dragged himself to the headboard, shuddering into the pillows. He was slow to remove his clothing, folding them onto the night stand, and once he was nude he stroked the small form over his stomach. Humming with each easy contraction as he rode the tension from his body with short convulsions.
He closed his eyes, wincing against the sharpness and odd sounds of the place around him. He tried to relax with it, but every little creak made him flinch. He fisted the bed sheets, arching to try and find a more comfortable position. But his body and magic wouldn’t allow it, it screamed at him to find a place that smelled like him, instead of stale alcohol, sweat, incense, and fat. His magic could also feel the iron around him, the steady impurity that wasn’t safe for newborns.
It made the pain vibrate down his spine and settle at the back of his throat, pleading with him just a much as he was to calm its unsatisfied howl. “Please…” he whispered, slowly stroking his stomach and easing his fingers into his sheathe to check the progress of his clutch. There hardly was any, he fell back with frustration barking through his throat.
Merlin didn’t know how long he had laid, the pain taking the time away with long blaring clenches, each one made him bite down on his lip, slowly enduring the deep seated contractions that dropped his eggs lower by a fractions of what he was used to. His magic responded to his stress with hardly an attempt to soothe or calm, it hissed protectively around him, making him glaringly aware of the iron candelabra on the table, the brazier tucked away in the corner of the room, and the grating at the crackling hearth. He tried to calm himself, and focus on the safety of his room. But it did little while the metal loomed heavily over him and goaded his magic to burn with any lashings it bit back with.
A low sob bubbled up his throat, too abrupt to hold back volume, his chest shuddered with it, and he tried not to scream for the noise in his blood to stop.
He froze and swallowed another cry unable to hide behind the whine when a sudden knock damned his shaking limbs into dread-locked vices. His eyes grew wide once he realised the lock was unlatched, his room was open and he couldn’t dare magic it or scramble up to seal himself in.
He slapped a hand over his mouth when another knock rapped against the wood. “Merlin?” It took everything in his willpower to not call out. “Merlin, if you do not respond I will come in.” Arthur said, he tried to force his voice to work, the flutter of tension nearly achieved if it wasn’t taken by a sharp yell. The door was open with a quick clatter, and in a panic Merlin sat up, folding over himself when the eggs dropped entirely, loosing itself from the warm sack with an audible pop. His heart tensed and Arthur stood, his breath held while Merlin tried to stand through low sobs as he realised his life was now in danger.
He mumbled denial as he heard more footsteps down the hall. His arms shook as he tried to prop himself, the window too far to offer escape. Arthur shook himself free, turning towards Lancelot’s alarm that leaned over him and tried to push in. Arthur shut the door reeling onto Lancelot with his glove clasping at his chest piece, “you saw Merlin asleep. I have retired for the night. You went back here to ensure that your rooms were secure. You will not repeat anything and you will return to the knights and keep them occupied.” Lancelot leaned back, gripping his blade.
“What are you going to do to Merlin, sire?” He asked, clenching his fist.
“Follow your orders, Knight.” Arthur warned, letting Lancelot go.
“Yes, sire.” Lancelot gritted out as Arthur hurried inside, latching the door behind him.
Merlin’s breath billowed his chest, rapid, heavily. Overpowering him with fear while fighting to get to the window. His hand guarded his stomach immediately when Arthur stepped farther into the room. Quietly, his eyes studied, a tactician’s intuition analysing, his heart was thumping in his chest while he grabbed the hilt of his sword then turned to unsheathe it and place it upon the table, he kept his back to Merlin, his own shaking hands unlatching his armour with a quickness expedited by Merlin finally standing,
“Lay back down.” Arthur ordered. His voice low and unhurried, but Merlin didn’t hear, he was sobbing, leaning upon the poster board of the bed and trying to get his legs to cooperate, Arthur let him be, knowing well enough he couldn’t get to the door, so he continued to dough his armour until he wore his riding clothes. Loose, open, comfortable in the cool room.
He turned to adjust the sweat from his back, swallowing dryly as he cautiously stepped towards Merlin, his bare feet creaking the old wood. “Arthur wait!” He exclaimed, his pleas drowned by another long contraction. “Fuck! Please, please I’m sorry!”
He ignored Merlin, slowly taking another step with his fists clenching at his sides. Merlin dropped back onto the bed, pulling at the bedsheets to try and pull away. Exhaustion already taxing too much on the tension in his body. He gasped loudly as he found enough strength to leap to the other side of the bed. Arthur lunged with him, swinging to try and catch him before he fell towards the night stand.
Arthur managed just barely to catch his shaking arm. His other steadying to hold onto Merlin’s shoulders, easing him back with a hand upon the back of his neck and the other lowered to above his buttocks while Merlin still held his stomach.
“Lay down.” He said, his brow was upturned while he studied the ever-locked pain trembling through Merlin. He stayed still to keep Merlin there, when he didn’t move again Arthur then focused his attention around the room, wincing when Merlin squeezed his eye shut and groaned through a whole body clench. He grabbed for the metal around him, quickly storing it in the corner and with his cloak he covered the pile.
“Stop delaying!” He heard Merlin sob. “If you’re going to kill me, don’t torture me and just do it already! Don’t comfort my pain…don’t do this to me Arthur.” Arthur stilled, his hands flexing and with a shake of his head he stopped before the bed. Merlin sobbed loudly still trying to pull away, he couldn’t move, and so resorted to covering his eyes to distract the remnants of his heart from reaching out.
Arthur forced himself to swallow the figurative dagger poisoning his heart with bitter acid. He cleared his throat and slowly knelt upon the mattress, grabbing Merlin’s wrist and ignoring the exaggerate flinch while he pulled Merlin forward. He adjusted the pillows before he sat behind Merlin, and incrementally shuffled him to the middle of the bed. Arthur slowly spread his legs out over the mattress before adjusting Merlin to rest entirely upon his chest. Who was still curled protectively into himself.
He sat with Merlin, observing the oddness of his pained moans, Arthur’s sweat soaked palms ached with his nerves. When minutes passed he adjusting the space between them until he could feel the heat from Merlin against his chest, stomach, and crotch. Merlin tensed still, trying to pull away, but Arthur tutted pulling off his shirt one-handed and keeping Merlin still with a hand upon his knee.
“Calm, heart,” he whispered as he pressed an entire palm onto Merlin’s chest, he moved him to face the room and kept it steady while his other hand traced down Merlin’s side and against the hand guarding what Arthur could only guess was the source of his panic. “Calm, you are frightened too much, calm.” His shushed the long whine from the man resting upon him, his thumb running along the sharp collar bone protruding from pale flesh. Arthur dragged out his breaths in slow concise, obvious draws, hoping his drafts were comforting despite the oddness chiselling unease through his heart. “You’re safety is my will, your content is my desire. Calm yourself, heart.”
He was slow to press his callous fingers under the different-borne roughness of Merlin’s hand, only advancing when he felt the anxious flinches settle into shaking touch. Arthur pressed at the small rise experimentally, gauging Merlin’s reaction as he pushed gently at the soft flesh. He hid the shiver of shock behind a long kiss against his forehead, knowing what he felt wasn’t human, but his heart couldn’t care. The terror he inflicted still shook through him, still undermined what Arthur was confident on and this sudden new territory. But he knew, one thing, knew that Merlin’s well-being was his own, and his father be damned he will ensure that Merlin is cared for.
“Easy.” Arthur said, as Merlin arched his back, baring his teeth and holding onto Arthur’s wrist. Arthur didn’t flinch when he felt blunt nails score into his flesh, he only kissed at Merlin’s neck, and with a slow, gentle push and pull, opened Merlin’s soaked legs to the room. He stayed his advances, swallowing again and waiting for Merlin as he caressed the fingers that held his own they were cold and shaking, and Arthur hoped the slow drag of his thumb over the soft flesh was comforting.
“They’re getting closer.” Merlin shivered. Arthur hummed as his tongue slipped from his lips and he pressed gentle and slow kisses upon Merlin’s neck, his hands were slowly started tracing the tattered tears of healed flesh. Each claim to an unknown story released tension from Merlin’s body.
“Contractions?” Merlin nodded, turning away as a deep flush dyed his skin. Arthur chuckled softly.
“Who’s the lucky bastard that knocked you up?”
“Jealous, sire?” Merlin retorted, his voice torn.
“Ridiculously.” Arthur replied pressed another long kiss underneath Merlin’s ear.
“Can’t be jealous of me Arthur, come now.” Merlin said, opening his eyes to blink through tears and bearing through another gasp that loosed a shudder and ended with heavy pants wholly pressed against Arthur’s body.
“Is this…normal?”
Merlin’s chin trembled with his teeth clattering loudly before he closed his eyes again, gasping into Arthur when he managed to open them again. “For my kind, yes.”
“What type of fae do I keep as my manservant?” Arthur’s glanced down at Merlin’s tinged lips.
“A Dragon Lord.” He whispered and pushed his entirety back against Arthur again, Merlin chocked on his yell, the escaped sob scraping down Arthur’s arms in nearly blood-drawing cuts.
“I have you.” Arthur gasped.
“One is coming.” Merlin adjusted his hips, and slowly Arthur detached his administrations, adjusting his lap to be more open for Merlin to support himself onto while he opened his legs opened farther and pressed down on Arthur’s thighs. He pulled his face in disgust when his foot dipped into a warm slick dying the sheets red with mixed blood.
Merlin’s panting filled the room, small groans of exertion interrupting the intense focus that flexed with his body. Merlin dropped back in pause, resting his wrists on his knees and humming when slow kisses were pressed upon his neck.
“Can I help?” Arthur asked, breathing evenly when the scent of blood, musk, and sweat filled his lungs.
“It’s hard.” Merlin said.
“Is this your first time?” Arthur mused, adjusting to peer down at the swollen rage, it looked like a battle wound, shimmering in the fire light. Merlin shook his head.
“Eighteenth-clutch. But this is the first time, away from my room.” Arthur shuddered, nudging against Merlin’s temple when he realised his mistake.
“Once a month?” Arthur mused. “You’re what? Twenty summers?”
“Twenty-two, you lucky prat got two years ahead like the impatient cabbage-head you are.” Merlin inhaled sharply, grabbing Arthur’s knee when he bore down wholly.
“Easy…easy.” He said, “may I check?” Merlin nodded enthusiastically.
“I can’t with this pain, I have no herbs, no alcohol will combat the magic.” Arthur exhaled and hesitated before reaching and gently pulled apart the slit, it’s warmth was staggering, but he was gentle as he pressed deep enough for both of his fingers to barely brush against something soft.
“A finger depth away.” He said. “I have you, relax, Merlin.”
“Arthur…” He whispered and pushed again.
“That’s it.” Arthur reached again, folding his hand over the dropping mound. “A little more,” he soothed massaging the expanded hips of Merlin’s back, sitting back while Merlin leaned forward and with a long guttural grunt pushed it free with a gush of blood and fluid, pouring into Arthur’s hand and hotter than what he was expecting.
His heart stopped once he realised it was an egg. Golden, pure, humming with a fine buzz that seemed to react to Arthur’s touch. “Beautifully done.” He laughed, panting and kissing Merlin’s shoulder, he rearranged the pillows beside them, reaching past Merlin to drag the blanket towards them and wrap it around the throne of pillows. Arthur cradled it against his neck, pressed upon the cords in his throat before he carefully lowered and covered it.
“I feel them dropping.” Merlin said, slowly easing back upon Arthur.
“I have you.” Arthur’s voice wavered, he sniffed while he massaged the more pronounced roundness of Merlin’s stomach, he felt about three more from what he could tell. Merlin was quiet while he focused on pushing; his breath and self-soothing moans low and almost a deep purr. He quieted as another egg dropped, Arthur was ready, easing open the slit to palm it, he waited, kissing Merlin’s shoulder when it fell through with another soaking of fluid and blood.
“Arthur.” Merlin whispered before he could pull away. “Its sibling follows.” Merlin mumbled and rocked his hip with another gentle push. Arthur held them together, they shimmered with power. Individual frequencies tide nearly identically that entranced Arthur into tracing each one carefully with his thumb until he lowered both to the nest. He raised his gaze again, when Merlin groaned low. His stomach flexed slowly, the deep bodily clench slow and drawn taking Merlin’s breath. Arthur drew him back sitting on his knees as he grabbed Merlin’s hips and stretched with him.
“Relax.” He whispered pushing down on Merlin’s spine and into the tension. “Relax, one big push. That’s it.” He kissed down Merlin’s back, folding him slowly, he shook, and knew Merlin’s exhaustion had taken over now, he was trembling with a tired loll to his body. His legs were drenched in sweat, blood, and fluid still, Arthur knew he should have been retching and tearing Merlin limb from limb, but he couldn’t help but want to touch him, cradle him like he has and continue to see what Merlin was giving to the world come to fruition.
Arthur waited with him, waiting for Merlin’s body to stop tensing slightly and give to actually pushing.
“I’m tired.” Merlin mumbled, reaching for Arthur’s arms to wrap around him.
“Rest just a little bit.” Arthur breathed with him, startling when Merlin gasped loudly, he swore and angled his hips forward, bearing down against Arthur’s chest.
He stopped and panted heavily. Crying out in frustration, slowly Arthur pushed away the gold-tinged droplets falling from Merlin’s eyes. “Easy, slow…” He whispered. Resting his palm upon the two eggs, noticing the spacing and size. “Going to push the next one, tell me when its too much.” Arthur said, waiting with a concentrated frown while Merlin grunted and hummed with each massage until he knew his body was able to continue.
Arthur waited before he felt for progress, scratching down Merlin’s arms and legs with each gritted moan from Merlin. He waited with his palm open, wincing when mostly blood soaked his palm and slowly helped ease out the fourth egg holding Merlin’s chest through his long quiet grunting.
“Rest.” Arthur said, placing the egg into the blanket once he ensured it felt his heartbeat like the others. Arthur reached past Merlin wiping his hand on the clean part of his pants before he reached for Merlin’s pack to find a water skin of wine, some cheese-bread stuffed with herbs and zucchini, then finally some sausage. Arthur detached the copper tankard and carefully poured the fresh alcohol into it then offered it to Merlin, who shook his head.
“My magic won’t let me.” Arthur took a long sip and a bit of the bread before he continued to massage Merlin’s aches and through his strained grunts.
“This one’s bigger.” He whispered, wincing through a long, weak, cry, his haggard pants were loud barely muffled by Arthur’s neck. He paused pushing again, deep and hard, a fluctuation of blood and fluids pouring onto the sheets with heavy plops. Arthur winced keeping his hands steady and Merlin upright. Merlin pushed again, shorter and tense, but he could feel there was hardly any progress with the push. Merlin was shaking fully again, panting through soft whines with each hard pant.
“I’m going to feel, hold on.” Arthur said, worry lacing his voice, while he pushed down on his navel and found nothing. He kissed Merlin’s neck holding onto the wrist that had its finger clamped onto his knee, Arthur pushed past the soft clench and he waited for Merlin to relax before delving deeper. He tutted sharply when he felt nothing, and wholly sitting up he grabbed Merlin’s hips and raised him onto the covers, shushing soft as he lowered him onto his side and hooked his leg onto his thigh while he knelt still.
“Breathe, heart, breathe.” He said placing his hand into the crease of Merlin’s hip joint.
“It stuck.” Merlin said, his fingers clawing into the fabric, his body pushed again and quickly Arthur raised his hand Merlin’s stomach feeling around the soft skin for the egg. He felt it jolt back and with the heel of his palm he pressed, dragging it down. Merlin sobbed softly, grabbing at Arthur’s wrist and adjusting it.
“Push!” He said, dragging his palm down, “good, good!” He said, feeling it shift, he winced when he felt something tear and Merlin cry out, pouring of straight blood leaking down his thigh. “Again, come now, push!”
The egg dropped and immediately Arthur lowered his hand, breaching through Merlin with a soft pant, he huffed when he couldn’t feel it then adjusted himself to unstick from his undergarments soaked with sweat, licking his lips nervously. “One more push, Merlin.”
“It hurts…” Merlin shook, his shaking leg steadied by Arthur’s lean forward to trap him in an extreme pose.
“I know, I’m here.” He said, spreading the slit up and reaching his fingers in. “One big push, Merlin.” He dropped his head back, hissing and with a loud groan bore down. Merlin shook his head, whining sharply through shuddered hisses.
“It’s stuck again.” He said when he gave a few more contractions.
“Right, okay.” Arthur cleared his throat and moved back on his heels, careful of the nest beside him, he opened Merlin’s hip kneading his thigh through the vulnerable blush, then palmed Merlin’s sheath again. His stare was intense and glazed with pain, to ease it Arthur rolled his heel slowly at the top, and grinned when Merlin hummed with approval, he continued, leaning to kiss at this neck and touch his pale, bloodied flesh, vowing next time he would ensure absolute comfort.
Arthur felt something press against his palm and pulled back to hold an extending organ in the crook of his thumb, it was smaller than he expected, strange and not like a human penis, it became slick and extended further as Arthur sped up. he wrapped his fingers around it and stroked slowly. Merlin’s panting and deep hums filling the room again. Merlin sudden gasped, relaxing then immediately cringing.
“There we go.” Arthur breathed, when he felt it relax beneath his touch.
“I’m done, I want it out.”
“I know.” Arthur said and slowly pushed Merlin open and sank his fingers in. He kept watch, his interest focusing on the descending organ from the slit, wrapping around Arthur’s wrist.
“Gods Merlin.” Arthur shook his head, tutting when he heard Merlin chuckle.
“Sorry, that felt really good.” He gasped with another contraction that stole his breath away. He felt the push of his hand, using it to his advantage he pushed gently through, until his knuckles brush against the sheer surface of the egg inside.
“Good, I feel it!” Blood slicked Arthur’s hand as he pushed deeper, cringing against the tearing Merlin nearly screamed from, he ignored it. Pushing deeper and to his wrist, where he curled his fingers around the egg and waited.
“You okay?” Arthur asked, adjusting his hips again.
“One more push.” Merlin said, his legs trembling and arms bared open.
“One more.” Arthur agreed, and with the following contraction he pulled slowly, following Merlin’s body. With a final squelch he pulled it free, and Merlin dropped, his chest open and legs spread as he shook with loud pants.
“Beautiful, absolutely, beautiful!” He laughed and rocked onto his heels, cradling the egg in his palm and against his neck. His lips graced the blood and birth-graced life before he added it to the pile, a tear trailing down his cheek as he turned over to Merlin. He was beautiful, the sweat that soaked his skin shimmering in the cold, steaming slowly while his chest billowed out, trembling with his black hair wild and body flushed, despite being cover in blood a birth. Arthur stared at him, smiling foolishly before he stood and knelt to Merlin’s side, slowly picking him up and moving him closer to the head of the bed, unable to avoid the pile of birthing remnant. Merlin winced his eyes flashed gold, and not even with a wave of his hand the mattress, Arthur himself and the blankets were clean, the smell but a memory.
It stunned Arthur for but a moment as he slowly crouched beside Merlin’s pack, glancing occasionally at Merlin while he rummaged to find his blanket, Arthur fluffed it out and carefully exchanged the eggs into it.
“Stop.” Arthur startled, looked down, at the gold swirl of magic pouring down in tears from Merlin’s eyes.
“Merlin?” Arthur gasped, crouching by the bed, “what’s wrong?” Merlin shook his head, a sob escaping him.
“I can’t Arthur.”
“Hey, no, you’re alright, I won’t hurt you or them.”
“That’s not it…” Merlin gasped, raising his hands to his brow. “Take them away, please.”
Arthur shook his head, “why?”
“You’re here, Arthur, I want them so badly to be fertilised. But to ask you to help birth magic…”
“Merlin, explain it to me.” Arthur said as he sat on the bed, leaning over Merlin with the eggs against his chest.
Merlin shivered, looking at the clutch, “I am a Dragon Lord, my species is born and bred to sire and carry dragon, who can accommodate the birth of other species.” Merlin began to shake, covering his mouth to stop the tears from pouring, Arthur gently pried back Merlin’s guard to rest his hands upon his cheeks.
“My body aches to replenish what has been slaughtered.”
“You can’t fertilise them yourself?” Merlin shook his head.
“They still need the seed of life. Man is attuned to magic, they eat from the loam of life, breathe in the mist of magic, are born from the fires of passion or lust, and drink from the lifeblood of the earth. Magic is entwined in you and dragons require it in excess or they wither. They can create more magical life on their own but only at maturity. While my own species require a mate equally or just as powerful as themselves to allow a Dragon Lord to conceive. And you Arthur were born because of magic, I can feel it in your touch, and by the All-Mother it makes me yearn.” He pushed himself into the mattress, trying not to buck up into Arthur.
“They are…out of your womb, how can we bring life to them?” Arthur slowly laid them down by Merlin, who raised his hand and pulled them to his chest. Arthur watched as he laid down on Merlin’s other side, reaching over to also pet the small eggs.
“They weren’t birthed, the eggs were dropped. Dragons are not restricted by laws of nature, their magic accommodates needs for both that of a female and a male. On a dragon this appendage can reach into the egg-womb and take them, then the dragon itself will create seed from magic.”
Merlin motioned down his body, “Dragon Lords require aid, due to our human-like structure, and the need for magic delegation, we were the first to birth dragons but our bodies are horrible conduits for raw magic; the human side can’t comprehend it unlike creatures who are born because of magic. So, taking a mate and bonding with them helps centre that mix of translation.”
“So you are both, a man and a woman?”
“No, I am a man I have a fully functional penis and testicles within my sheath.” Merlin shuffled, opening his legs with an uncomfortable grunt as he pulled with his fingers to reveal himself more to Arthur. “But since I am half-dragon I bear the organs to birth only dragons, I cannot sire any other creature like actual dragons can. The opening between my legs creates the eggs and releases them monthly. Much like a woman’s blood-cycle but without the shedding as well as the imbalance of the biles and magic. This is the entrance to the brood pouch.” He said, stroking himself to release the growing want. He grunted and moaned with a shudder while Arthur cleared his throat and pulled at his pants again.
With a tired mumble he looked over at Arthur, “I need to be given your seed then the eggs need to be inserted.” Merlin shook, looking towards the small nest with a sigh and a hand through his hair. “It’s an ache in my bones and it’s deep enough that it’s starting to wear me down.”
Arthur shuddered, flushing when he found himself almost eager. “My father…killed all of the Dragon Lords, how are you still alive?”
“My father was one, it’s passed from father to son, in the case of death. But in some instances we are born like I was, so I can sire a human child if I’m unable to find a man to help breed the clutches I release.”
“But you are creating eggs.” Arthur said.
“My own penis is here.” Merlin gasped as he moved to reveal a small hole. “I have found a compatible mate, so my body is accommodating expectations, mainly because there is no balance. The law of magic is demanding I father what the world needs. If I want I could sire a child with a woman but it will possibly be more embarrassing than right now, or if I’m lucky, I can ask a fertility god to bestow me a human egg to take in my brood-pouch. But that requires me to start bleeding, and Gwen complains enough about it.”
“So I’m…this compatible mate?” Arthur asked quietly, looking down at Merlin with a raised brow, Merlin looked away from him, his ears flushing while he hid again.
“Yes, you’re honest, good, your magic is strong, and you’re fucking gorgeous Arthur.” He mumbled against his palms. He hips bucked slightly into the air, and he dropped his hands, “fuck off.” He mumbled.
“But I can’t cast magic, I don’t know how to help.”
“You don’t have to cast, your seed already carries so much magic. Its innate in you, like how I am an incarnation of it and can—” Merlin wiggled his fingers and added another log to the fire.
Arthur watched intently at the surge of gold replenish over Merlin’s blue. “The Great Purge caused this imbalance.” Arthur sighed, rubbing his eyes
“Yes, the All-Mother cries and her tears are mine.” He huffed and the silence grew. More reverent than strained. “Thank you, for listening and for your curiosity. But I cannot ask you to give yourself to me, Arthur. Your father would kill you, kill us.” Arthur gnawed at his teeth. The creatures he held weren’t evil, he knew they were magic, they sang with it, and Merlin’s eyes were still golden with it and probably have been for the entirety of the hours he spent expelling the eggs from his body. But there was no way Arthur could see Merlin giving birth as a transgression. Not when tears of pure gold fell from his eyes from the very pain the world felt.
“What happens if we have sex and place your eggs in your brood pouch?”
Merlin sniffed scoffing wetly as he reached and traced the eggs one by one. “I’ll be yours for life. I cannot take another to fertilise the eggs, my body will only recognise one signature of magic and any other man will have their seed expelled from my pouch. If you leave or die I will wither, my blood will run cold, and I will die.” Arthur inhaled slowly.
“Then, this is it.” He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees, Merlin scoffed.
“You’re the Prince of Camelot, you have a higher duty Arthur and you’ve already helped me far more than you ever should have.” Merlin shook his head, “you should have killed me.”
“I reached into you to pull one of your spawn from you. If you count that as a spearing—then yes, I already murdered you.” Merlin laughed weakly, looking up at Arthur while he moved over him, caging Merlin with his arms and legs, before deciding to hold both of Merlin’s hands in his own.
“You—Merlin, are a very attractive man, to have you as my husband even if its only in the name of magic; would not only be my honour, but I have yearned for it for the two years we’ve known, fought, and been together in kinship. I have suspected you were more the longer you have served me and these scars, prove it. But I can’t be upset at you for hiding, I would have as well if I could birth magic. But also, you need to know, that this here—is nothing but a part of this relationship, I give my consent and not for you but because I want this.”
Merlin sobbed sitting up to fold his arms around Arthur’s neck. “I need them, Arthur, please tell me you’re saying the truth, I can’t bear to lose another batch.” Merlin whispered, his hands clawing into Arthur hair and shoulders.
“You won’t. I’m here to stay.” He supported them, rocking side to side gently and breathing in the warmth from Merlin’s skin.
“You have to understand Arthur, it has to be mutual, there cannot be doubt otherwise my body will reject them, I can’t—I can’t lose another brood not when you’re offering this to me.”
“I offer willingly.” He said, his knuckles brushing back tears. “How long do you carry?”
“A year, but according to the book it can be longer, I will not show. Just as you saw me when you first entered.” Arthur scanned down Merlin’s body, observing the old, roughly healed scars, he savoured the fine tuned muscle endured by servant work. His pale flesh was still flushed, the hungry brood-pouch appendage still reaching.
“Convenient.” He hummed while Merlin nodded, his breathing becoming deeper, when Arthur laid him down.
“I will be at full strength, normal even. But being around iron will weaken me, I need a place away from it to give birth and to settle the hatchlings. They will stay dependant upon me for a month before leaving.”
“My antechamber, when we return I will accommodate to what you need. My father will never find out.”
“Thank you, Arthur.” Slowly, he removed his garments, soaked clean through, he erection rubbed against the soft fabric and Merlin locked his bleary vision to it.
“Do I have your consent, Merlin?” Arthur asked, low his voice hoarse.
“Wholly.” He managed and squirmed to a more comfortable position. Arthur supported himself on his forearms, close enough to feel Merlin’s breath upon his face while aligning his hips above the reaching appendage where he rested his finger upon its sheen and soothed its eager shrinkage and thrust, Arthur nudged Merlin’s buttocks onto his lap looking down at the near union with rapt curiosity that flared his nostrils and lit his spine with want. Merlin gasped loudly when Arthur led the expressing appendage to his erection, petting it slowly between his fingers until he squeezed the powerful muscle onto it. He grunted heavily rolling his hips around it to tease another moan from Merlin.
Merlin drop his head back, his mouth clamping shut with heavy breaths from his nose while Arthur’s chin tucked to his chest. He squeezed his eyes, shuddering while Merlin massaged his erection with warm and tight compression, undulating with eagerness as his nails clawed into Arthur’s shoulders when he wiggled closer and propped Merlin knees around his waist. He continued to watch, as it opened itself to his girth releasing a puff air when Arthur pushed until it sealed itself again.
“Pardon.” Merlin said smiling against Arthur’s chuckle and sudden deep kiss from Arthur. He pulled back to mouth the length of Merlin’s jaw down to his sweaty chest. He bit at the flesh as he ground down, and reached to gently stroke the both of them. Merlin arched into it, gasping with fully body tremors that pulled quiet and deep groans from his chest.
“Ready?” Arthur asked, after another long, warm, kiss where his tongue lapped at the taste of magic and grounded Merlin. Merlin nodded, his arms falling back to support himself by the headboard.
Arthur thrust deeply, slowly, each drag back was met with a sunken press, delving deeper every time and rolling his hips occasionally to squeeze out a delicate moan. He rested his forehead against Merlin’s as his mouth fell open in scoffing gasps with each thrust that gained more confidence and quickened pace. He raised his legs up spreading them wide and splayed as he pushed back and huffed past a silent moan, his shaft held Arthur in place while his body shifted open, his magic flooding his skin with excitement.
He hummed every time his bed-mate grunted, the soft slap of his lubrication narrowing the focus of Arthur’s strong hips. Merlin had no comparison for what it felt like, but the warmth, willingness, and utter love that was damned behind his heart was releasing and all it grew tenfold when Arthur announced he would bind himself to sworn secrecy for Merlin’s life and happiness. He twitched when the thrusts slapped harder, obscene but sending shocks through Merlin’s body. He looked up into Arthur’s eyes, smiling at him when he did.
“You’re beautiful,” Arthur whispered between grunts, forcing Merlin to flutter his eyes shut and push up for him to go deeper.
It was a fount of mercy when Merlin could taste the magic in the air, the power witnessed by himself only, no god or entity could dare to near this room lest they trigger the wrath of Magic at its most vulnerable.
Merlin cried out quietly, while he rode the surge of power bundling itself tighter in his pouch and when Arthur adjusted himself to get a better position and thrust harder. It made the sharper and most deep thrusts that perspired Arthur’s skin all the more glorious to Merlin. It was a single, focus of exertion that made the building welcome of life a gift like no other, even better than what Merlin could ever pray during lonely nights spent quietly muffling himself with magic and gags, both in pleasure and pain. He was quiet out of habit, but Arthur didn’t seem to mind and even seemed to lure out more gasps just because he could.
“I’m close, Merlin.” He said, his hips snapping harder until he pressed down hard and his body tensed. Merlin drooped entirely, his hips raising to catch the magic charged through the chimes of devotion, unspoken but a truth that surged with gold along Merlin’s body. Patterning visibly in scales raising above his skin and settling in his eyes.
Arthur kissed at Merlin’s neck moving to his lips in a long drawn kiss. Arthur was shaking as he stroked Merlin’s sides, and body to feel the charge of magic that flooded his body with ecstasy. When it settled he pulled away and memorised how delicious Merlin looked with his swollen lips shimmering and body shaking.
“Your eggs?” Merlin nodded and slowly he released Arthur, sleepily opening his legs again and turning to the small bundle that Arthur pulled into his arms.
“They’re beautiful, Merlin.” He smiled lovingly.
“The first-born.” He mentioned raising his finger to the first of five. Arthur waddled closer to Merlin and placed the eggs in his lap allowing Merlin to rest his shins upon his thighs for support and closeness.
“We’ll go slow.” He reassured.
“The daughter I worry for.” Merlin said while he helped Arthur ease the first egg to the open and relaxed entrance, he adjusted the egg to kiss it. Then carefully, Arthur pushed it down, watching Merlin’s body tense at first, he watched for any reaction of pain but only found warm excitement. He was glad there was none, just a softness to his expression and a tenderness that Arthur shared while he finally realised what he was doing was beyond sacred.
“Merlin, your magic…where did you learn it?” He asked.
“I am Magic. I was born to be by your side, but also replenish the bloodletting of magic your father has brutally conducted.” He whispered against Arthur’s fingers separating the opening farther to slip the egg in.
“Good?” Arthur asked, enjoying the flush upon Merlin’s skin. He waited before rolling the second two into palms. He raised one to the fire to observe the hard, golden shell, shimmering still with the white coating of life, the blood had been absorbed or cleaned. Both of the eggs were the size of his palm, his hand was already large so they felt tiny, delicate, and tender with innocence. He ran his thumb over the scaled texture, it creased with his touch like silk, but he couldn’t dare himself to even fathom crushing or tearing at the gentle pulse beneath his fingers. He cradled the one he held with its other underneath his chin for a second, blessing them with the same gentle kiss as the one before, he looked at Merlin, his lax smile making him flush and roll his shoulders.
He supported Merlin’s thigh with a soft squeeze when he leaned, his thumb rubbing at the top of his hip, he barely noticed how it was more pronounced than a man’s but less than a woman’s. He found it utterly enthralling as he set one of the eggs in Merlin’s waiting palm and opened the entrance again.
He pressed in one of the eggs with ease before having the other follow near instantly. He comforted the fourth with his warmth easing his eyes shut while he breathed in the scent, it was sweet, but also smelled like Merlin after a day of training or the rare occasion when he left his neckerchief in his room to smell and hold. He pulled it away after tenderly kissing its shell, licking at his lips to clear them. He then pushed it into Merlin, but was stopped and waited for him to adjust his hips.
“They’re taking well to you,” he mumbled.
“My seed?” Merlin nodded mutely, and Arthur was able to slip the fourth in.
“They know you’re good.” Arthur picked up the last one, the largest, and most powerful, Arthur could feel it beneath his hands how it pulsed determinedly with pride. It was still small, but he could cage his hands around it with his finger tips barely touching, he used to never be able to feel magic, but here, it was charged and heavy.
“That one made me show.” Merlin said and adjusted himself wider. He already was showing, but the power of knowledge and position made it most obvious.
“She’s gorgeous.”
“She’ll be a mage. A great caster.” Merlin shuddered when Arthur pushed her against his entrance, his flinch of pain making him stop to ease. “Maybe a healer.”
“The others?”
“Fighters, leaders, it’s hard to say, dragons are a rare breed now.”
“What happens to the breeding pool when they hatch?” Arthur kneaded the entry, easing the edges over with his thumb. He collected lubrication and spread it over the egg.
“If they fly away from Albion they will be able to spread. They will be good mates or independent birthers, strong since my magic is with them.” Merlin relaxed, “they mature much faster than human children. They need no milk but require magic to sustain their growth. There cannot be iron in the room.”
“There won’t be.” Arthur’s conviction made Merlin shiver and slowly he pushed the final egg farther. Merlin winced, and Arthur stopped to knead and caress. “Will you be okay though, doing your job?” Merlin nodded, rocking his hips slowly to aid in adjusting the egg.
“I have wards, they will protect the womb.”
“No more training.”
“I’ll be—”
“No.” Arthur said. “You’ll be surrounded by iron. Your body is littered with scars, you cannot put yourself in harm’s snarl while I can fight.”
Merlin smiled and Arthur rolled the egg, the drop was slow and Merlin’s body was trying to accommodate for it. “Very well, I’ll still be your manservant?”
“As long as you don’t exert yourself.” Arthur said, slicking his hand and the egg more, careful to not tear Merlin.
“A Dragon Lord pregnancy is different Arthur.” He glanced up. “What you feel for me is what I need the most. I’m not fragile and neither are they. The eggs themselves are as hard as steel and fortified by magic.”
“The bond creates this?” Merlin shook his head.
“Our magic did, we’ll consummate the bond in a moment.” Arthur grinned eagerly.
“What can harm them?”
Arthur looked back down, pushing the egg farther with a gentle roll. Merlin grunted before he spoke. “Iron, imbued with life-stealing magic. The wards are strong though, incredibly so now that they are born from my body and your lineage.” Arthur pushed again, his fingers sinking in to crown it with a gentle drop. The sheath wrapped over it, protruding slightly but slowly accepting it.
“Who knows?” Arthur asked, massaging slowly, until the puffy sheath was closed and Merlin was settled. Arthur crawled to pillows so he could see Merlin interlock his fingers to cradle the back of his head, open and relaxed.
“About this?” Merlin shifted on his side and pressed close, keeping his hand over his sheathe with a quiet wince. “Only you.”
Arthur huffed. “And Lance, nosy fucker followed me. But what of Gaius?”
“Gaius knows I’m a warlock, but not a Dragon Lord. I fear Gaius would…I don’t know, he wouldn’t use them unless I allow it, but he would either lecture me or send me away, especially if he knew I had matured and was actively laying every month. And Lancelot won’t tell, he knew I was ill and magic, but not of my capabilities.” Merlin mumbled, a wave of magic cleaning them before Merlin pulled the blanket over them to protect from the cold seeping into the room.
“You are not ill.” Arthur tutted.
“You weren’t enduring contractions in the middle of travel, sire.” Merlin said and suddenly sat up to finally drink heavily from the cup then water skin, he tore into the bread with slow chews, his hand resting upon the small mound just below his navel. Arthur had raised his knee slowly, watching Merlin’s form in the firelight. His skin buzzed as he lie beside Merlin. A sleepy echo pulling on his eyes while his attention hooked onto Merlin’s stomach, he felt fulfilled, a warmth settling deeply into his chest with every slow blink.
Merlin smirked once he finished and moved to press up against Arthur’s jaw to expose his neck. He hummed, swallowing when he felt Merlin open his mouth and returned hours worth of kisses slowly. His touch shuddered through Arthur, how Merlin’s rough hands caught on his chest hair and reverently, kneaded at his cock. He rolled his hand down its growing length, humming still while Merlin tended to the slow accepting pants as he pressed down on Arthur’s head and began to stroke faster.
Arthur grunted when Merlin sank his teeth into his neck. He shuddered, exhaling audibly when a rush of static flooded down his spine. It enveloped his heart and mind, and bundled itself with Merlin’s attentive grip until he found release.
He flinched when he felt his flesh was punctured with a sharp pop. “That’s a bit uncomfortable, you horny idiot.” Arthur said, but didn’t push away Merlin, he grit his teeth when the pain spiked through his bones. Branding him through an uncomfortable ache that mingled through Arthur’s orgasm. “Merlin?”
He hummed in response by folding his hand into Arthur’s, who tried to relax to let Merlin cast without impediment. But he couldn’t deny the fear, the uncertainty finally solidifying his decision. He had no hesitation for it, just the possibility of his father finding out now. That protective instinct was something he didn’t expect so suddenly. He blinked when Merlin detached and propped himself up to lick away the blood from his lips.
“Apologies, I should have warned you.”
“It hurt.” Arthur said, raising his hand to the bite mark to trace the outline. It sparked against his touch, and spread through his neck.
“That was my magic. It’s a ward and the bond. The more we commune the stronger it becomes.”
“Will my father be able to see it?” Arthur said, drawing back his hand to see the marked blood.
“Not when it’s fully healed.” Merlin mused sleepily and lowered his hand over Arthur’s chest while he was wrapped in a soft embrace. “Arthur…”
“Merlin?” He asked.
“I love you.” Arthur tucked him closer, his hand lowering to the warm pouch with a claiming touch.
“I love you too, Merlin.”