corilannam: (Merlin - oh noes!)
[personal profile] corilannam
Title: Looking Glass (Darkly)
Author: Cori Lannam ([ profile] corilannam)
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, Merlin/Elyan, Merlin/Percival, Merlin/Gwaine, Merlin/Gwen (implied)
Wordcount: 2,322

Summary:Merlin's evil, lecherous doppelganger appears in Camelot and leaves a trail of broken knights behind him (A Comedy)

Notes: This is the longer version of my entry for [ profile] merlin_games (GO TEAM CANON!) I cut it down to fit in the short fic category for reasons that turned out to be irrelevant. Contains dub-con elements played for comedic effect. Thanks to [ profile] chelseafrew for the proofreading (and sorry about the giant cock thing).

Merlin staggered and shook his head to clear the blurriness from his eyes in the aftermath of the spell. Damnation, that hadn't gone at all how he had planned. He hated screwing up in front of Arthur; it made him look weak.

"That was only step one," he declared with a grand sweep of his arms. Pageantry covered many faults. "Now I shall perform the real spell."


The utter shock in Arthur's voice behind him stopped Merlin cold. Arthur never showed surprise, not even when Merlin had dumped the smoking corpse of the Great Dragon at his feet as a wedding present.

But when Merlin's eyes focused on Arthur's face, it wasn't the blue eyes bugging out or the mouth gaping open that surprised him in return. "What happened to your face?" he blurted.

That made Arthur blink back at him and go even more bug-eyed. "My face? What the hell happened to your face?"

Merlin frowned and reached up to rub his own chin. To his relief, his carefully cultivated goatee was exactly where it was supposed to be. The relief was short lived -- if his spell had done this to Arthur, it was going to be the dungeons for Merlin.

And not the fun kind.

"Look," he started carefully. "Don't panic. I know how hard you worked on that beard, and I've got a little spell that will set everything to rights if you just hold on a--"

"Merlin!" Arthur looked scandalized -- but oddly, not enraged. Instead of lunging at Merlin's throat, he was making chopping motions at his own neck. "We don't talk about...that! We never talk about that."

"About... your facial hair?" It had been a gruelling and somewhat embarrassing time before Arthur had managed to cultivate a properly menacing beard, but Merlin had never shied away from talking about it. Usually when he was in the mood for a flogging.

"No, you idiot, the...." As Arthur trailed off, he waggled his fingers in Merlin's face in the manner of a lunatic.

Well, shit. The Pendragon men did tend towards weakness in the head; Uther's mind had failed almost completely before Arthur had finally gotten bored and put him out of his misery. But Arthur was so young; he should have had years of (relative) mental soundness before he went off his gourd.

Regardless: Arthur was his Pendragon, and Merlin's fate was tied to his. Whatever was wrong, Merlin would take care of him.

"Arthur," he began and squeezed Arthur's arm with unaccustomed gentleness. "I don't want you to worry--wait, what?"

Under his hand he felt only rough cloth and firm muscle. He focused on Arthur for the first time: no iron crown, no chain mail, not a scrap of proper leather in sight if he didn't count the ill-polished boots on his feet (and Merlin didn't).

Slowly, carefully, he let go of Arthur, took a step back, and looked around Arthur's chambers. He looked at the lack of mounted unicorn heads, the absence of shackles, and the downright depressing paucity of silks and velvets on the bed.

"Oh, bugger me with a pixie stick," he swore. "Not again."


Arthur crossed his arms and glowered across the room where Merlin--or whoever he was--sat bound into Arthur's chair by several coils of rope while Gaius examined him. Merlin was beaming up at Gaius like a long-lost friend.

"Gaius! I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed our little chats. I'm almost sorry I was in such a hurry to kill you," he exclaimed in the friendliest of tones, and Arthur repressed a shudder.

The rope had been wound around Merlin until it almost completely covered the black-on-black leather ensemble. Merlin craned his neck to look at Arthur from around Gaius. "I like your style," he called, wiggling his shoulders against the rope and grinning out of his bearded, stolen face.

"Shut up," Arthur gritted out and jerked his head for Gaius to come to him. "Well? What is he?"

"As near as I can tell, sire," Gaius said slowly. "He's Merlin."

"But not our Merlin?" Please, not his Merlin.

"I should say not. Though whose Merlin he is, remains in some question."

Though Gaius had spoken softly, Merlin laughed from across the room. "You could just ask me, you know. Or is your Merlin as much of a dunderhead as you are?"

Reluctantly, Arthur approached him, Gaius at his shoulder. "Then tell me. Who are you, and what have you done with the real Merlin?"

Merlin smirked up at him. "I'm as real as he is, I promise you, and probably a lot more fun. Let me break it down enough for your simple minds to understand: there are an infinite number of realities existing parallel to each other at the same time. Some are very similar and some, like this one, are very different from my world."

"Different in what way?" Gaius leaned forward with interest.

"Well, in my world, Arthur came and stole me from my village when I was fifteen. He wanted my powers to help him conquer and subjugate the kingdoms of Albion, which I very much enjoyed doing." Merlin grinned again when Arthur involuntarily shied back. "Yes, things are very different here, aren't they? At least you're not blue. The last time this happened, everyone was blue."

Arthur recovered and bent forward to slap his hand down on the table. "What matters is getting you out of here and getting our Merlin back where he belongs. You must know how to undo what you've done, sorcerer."

"Nothing to do but wait it out, I'm afraid. The universe will snap things back the way they're supposed to be soon enough. Now, in the meantime, I think I'd rather not spend the time tied to your really uncomfortable chair."

Merlin shrugged against the ropes once again and then stood up. The ropes fell away from him like they were no more than a girl's ribbons. Arthur pushed Gaius behind him and fumbled for his knife.

"How adorable," Merlin said. "So what is there to do for fun around here? Or who?"

Arthur looked down at his hand and realized he was wielding a small fish instead of a dagger. "You'll stay right where you are," he barked.

"Oh, I know! You haven't killed all your knights yet, have you?" Merlin stretched and started moving toward the door. "Oh, stop fussing. I'll keep a low profile."

Then he left in a swirl of black cloak and sexual menace. Arthur swallowed and moved up against the table to hide his completely physical reaction to this new version of Merlin, strange and yet tangibly familiar.

"Go," he said to Gaius. "Go research or whatever it is you and Merlin always do to fix these things."

Gaius hesitated and seemed about to speak, but bowed and left Arthur alone with his confusion.


Merlin had changed into less conspicuous clothing and spent a pleasant afternoon acquainting himself with the castle. It was architecturally similar to his own, although much more light, open, and generally... noble.

The people were the same as the castle, from the servants (who did not seem enslaved) to the guards and nobles. Many of them stared at him, but no one confronted him. His counterpart was either more powerful or more ridiculous than he had estimated.

After a time, he headed down to the lower village and instantly felt much more at home. Dirty peasants were dirty peasants in any reality, it seemed. He fought the urge to enslave some to take home with him

He was strolling past a blacksmith's forge when a glimpse of a familiar face made him stop in his tracks. "Elyan? Is that really you?"

Sir Elyan, brother to the Queen, put down the bellows and wiped the sweat from his brow with a sheepish look Merlin had never seen on him before.

"Hello, Merlin," he said. "You caught me at my secret pastime. Don't tell anyone, would you? I don't want Gwen looking at me that way she looks. You know."

Actually, the last time Merlin had seen him, he'd been lying in a pool of his own blood while Guinevere calmly wiped her dagger clean on her sleeve. Merlin decided not to mention it. He couldn't imagine why Arthur always said he had no tact.

Besides, he could already tell there was a better time to be had here. He ambled around the workshop, taking in the chains and spikes and other delicious implements. "So, Elyan, would you say that you're good with your tools?"

Elyan frowned and shrugged. "Not bad, I suppose."

Merlin picked up a pair of tongs and smiled.


"Arthur! You have to do something!" Gwen smacked Arthur in the chest. "Right there in the forge! The whole town saw!"

"Is Elyan hurt?" Arthur fought down a swell of rage, though he wasn't entirely sure at whom he was angry.

Gwen frowned. "No. He was... pretty happy, actually."

They both shuddered in unison.


Sir Percival showed only mild surprise when Merlin had walked into his bedchamber, stripped naked, and climbed onto him without ceremony.

"The Percival in my world is the kinkiest brute I ever met," Merlin informed him as he pulled Percival's trousers down. "I'm guessing that means you're about as sweet and innocent as they come. Am I right?"

"Er," Percival said. "Oh, hello, that's rather nice."

"That's what I thought." Merlin kept stroking Percival's massive cock to erection. "Thank gods, here's one thing that's exactly as it should be."

His earlier session with Elyan had been delightful, but it turned out that a good ride on a huge cock was exactly what Merlin needed to feel better about life. Once he convinced Percival that he could and should thrust as hard as he liked, they both thoroughly enjoyed themselves until Percival moaned, spurted, and deflated.

"Brilliant," Merlin panted, sliding off him. "But I still need more, and if you have anything in common at all with my own Percival, I know just the thing."

"What?" Percival blinked up at him, then gaped as Merlin's erection expanded to several times its original size.

"Ever been fucked by something bigger than you are?" Merlin stroked himself, testing his rigidity. "Trust me, you're going to love this."

Then Percival's legs were in the air. He came six times before passing out with a smile on his face.


Emerging the next evening from the quarters of a knight whose name Merlin never did catch, he found himself face to face with Sir Leon.

"Leon!" Merlin cried with delight. "How are you, old friend?"

Leon yelped, turned tail, and sprinted down the corridor in the opposite direction.

"Huh," Merlin said to himself. "I think I'm getting a reputation."


Later, he was wandering back down the corridor, licking his fingers after a delectable meeting with a tragically undersexed Guinevere. He usually tried not to cause any irreparable damage in his counterpart's world, but he needed some real entertainment soon or he would not hold himself accountable for his actions.

Suddenly a shadow fell across the floor. A figure filled the arched entryway, flickering in the torchlight.

"Hello, Merlin. I hear you've been terrorizing my brethren. Don't you think it's time you took on someone who's actually a match for you?"

The wind whistled through the corridor as they faced each other.

A smile spread slowly over Merlin's face. "You must be Gwaine," he purred.


Something thudded heavily against Arthur's door, making him jump. He caught his breath as he stood, cursing Merlin's evil twin from another dimension yet again for somehow causing more havoc in Camelot than even the original had ever managed.

When he opened the door, a dishevelled and filthy Gwaine tumbled forward. Arthur tried to catch him, but Gwaine fell heavily to his knees when Arthur recoiled at the reek of sex emanating from him.

"I was wrong," Gwaine moaned, sliding face first onto Arthur's boots. "He's too much for me. I never had a chance."

"He tried really, really hard, though." Merlin stepped over Gwaine's limp body and shoved him back out into the corridor with a flick of his fingers before shutting the door.

Arthur sputtered, more irritated than he'd ever been with any version of Merlin before. "Debauching my knights? That's your idea of keeping a low profile?"

"I was doing you a service, really." Merlin flopped onto his back on Arthur's bed and gave him a lecherous grin. "I'd service you, too. Might put you in a better mood."

"The only thing that will improve my mood is getting rid of you and getting my friend safely back." Arthur stalked up to the bed, intent on throwing Merlin out of it.

Instead, he found himself on top of the grinning sorcerer with no memory of how he got there.

"Oh, don't worry about your Merlin," the other Merlin said. "He hasn't been allowed to leave my Arthur's chambers since he got there. I promise you that."

The thought comforted Arthur for a moment until he realized exactly what Merlin meant. He flung himself off the other man with a whimper.

"Oh, that got you hard, did it? Well--"

A loud swooshing noise cut him off. When Arthur looked, his own Merlin lay there -- naked, shuddering, covered in sex marks, and hard as a rock, but his own sweet, non-sorcerous Merlin.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried with joy. "Are you all right?"

Merlin looked around the room, and then looked up at him with wide, wild eyes almost black with arousal. "Do I look all right?" he snapped.

Then he dragged Arthur down on top of him and kissed him with a desperate ferocity that made Arthur wonder if the right Merlin had made it back after all. He would have to question him thoroughly to be sure.

Yes, most thoroughly.


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corilannam: (Default)
Cori Lannam

October 2017


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