corilannam: (Merlin - pendragon)
[personal profile] corilannam
Continued from Part 1

By the next morning, the press had found him. He had to cast a glamour to make himself look like his blonde, middle-aged neighbor to get out of the building. Even so, they clamored around him, asking him questions about his newly famous neighbor, until he elbowed his way to the street where Gwaine idled in wait.

"Hello, Evelyn," Gwaine said as Merlin threw himself into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. "I knew you'd succumb to my advances eventually."

"Stuff it." Merlin looked over his shoulder at the mob of cameras and people. He didn't dare let the glamour fall until they turned out of sight, despite Gwaine's increasingly rude remarks.

A new case file awaited them at the Yard once they got through a second media cordon outside, a magical fraud investigation that would have been in Merlin's area of specialty if he'd been able to concentrate. His eyes wandered off the file over and over, glancing around the place he'd called home for most of his adult life. Everything looked different, as though he didn't know it and didn't belong to it. He could feel himself detaching from his old life, already stepping into the life he needed to build with Arthur.

He'd hoped to solve one last case before he went; by noon time, he knew it wasn't going to happen. Someday soon, he would make sure he got back here, but today, he needed to be elsewhere.

Gwaine cast him a sad look from across his desk when Merlin sighed and closed the file. "You're going, aren't you?"

"I think it's time," Merlin admitted. Arthur's note was in his pocket, the mysterious phone number burning a hole into him.

Gwaine waited while Merlin pulled it out and dialed the phone. A young female voice answered with a brusque, "Yes?"

"Er, this is Merlin Emrys. I was told--"

"It's about time. Are you at your home address?"

"No, I'm at work at--"

"A car will come for you in a half hour." A click signaled her disinterest in taking any questions.

He hung up in time to see Gwaine sneak a swipe under his eyes. "Don't you dare. I won't have you actually showing normal human emotions at this late date."

"Wouldn't think of it," Gwaine muttered, but he stood up and hauled Merlin into his arms. "Fuck, I'm going to miss you. Never had another partner, never wanted one."

"I'll be back," Merlin promised, hugging Gwaine hard. "They can't keep me chained in a castle forever."

"I'll get to work on your escape plan," Gwaine answered and looked much more cheerful.

Merlin didn't bother casting the glamour again as he walked out the front door to the waiting car. He smiled and waved a little as the flashbulbs went off. He'd never cared much about reporters, other than helping Arthur dodge them and clipping the occasional article about one of his cases. But now he supposed he'd better get them on his side if he could.

He didn't realize until he was in the back of the sleek town car that Ygraine's sigil had somehow ended up on the outside of his shirt, in full view of all the reporters and cameras. Merlin winced, then tried to shrug it off. Ygraine, at least, had always known how to work the cameras.

Although Merlin had visited Arthur at several of the royal residences over the years, he had never set foot in Buckingham Palace. Even Uther himself preferred the family seat at Camelot Castle in Cornwall. As Merlin followed his escort through the endless ornate corridors, he could understand why. Camelot might be a little drafty, but at least it felt like somewhere you could live.

It hit Merlin all over again. Both places were somewhere Merlin was going to live--with Arthur. At least if the High Priestess didn't throw him out on his ear.

They finally arrived at a large drawing room, occupied only by a small antique table, two chairs well older than Merlin, and what he quickly realized was the owner of the brusque voice he'd heard over the phone.

"My name is Isolde Markham, liaison between the Palace and the Church of the Old Religion." Her expression wavered when she saw the sigil around Merlin's neck, and then softened. "And I suppose you must be Mr. Emrys."

"That's DI Emrys, thanks," Merlin returned, desperate to hold his ground and dignity as long as he could before the royal machine swept it out from under him. He remembered Arthur's investiture ceremony.

"Of course. No disrespect intended." She studied his face for a moment. When she stepped forward to touch the sigil, he could feel the magical examination. It was the same one he used on suspects at work.

"You can check my teeth if you like," he offered with the eyebrow twist he'd learned from his boss.

That surprised a smile out her. "Unnecessary, but thank you. We've already pulled your medical and dental records from the NHS."

"Oh. Well, why not? Privacy laws, really just a suggestion, aren't they?"

The smile threatened to revive at the corner of her mouth. He suspected she wasn't taking him seriously. "Please have a seat. Her Grace will be with you in a moment."

She left him alone in one of the chairs, which turned out to be more comfortable than he'd expected. It grew less and less comfortable as the moment in which Morgause was supposed to arrive grew longer and longer. His nerves didn't need that much breathing room.

Just as he began to wonder if he should go find someone and remind them that he was there, the doors swung open again. Morgause strode in as though she were royalty herself, Isolde at one shoulder and a man bearing an enormous accordion folder at the other.

Merlin found himself scrambling to his feet, irreverence dissipating. Even dressed in sedate business attire rather than the ceremonial robes Merlin had half expected, the High Priestess inspired respect. Also, he needed her on his side even more than the media.

"Your Grace," he said before it occurred to him that he probably wasn't supposed to speak before he was spoken to. So much for reverence. Well, fuck it. He was going to be the bloody queen, wasn't he?

Morgause did not seem fussed, giving him a small smile as she motioned for him to sit. "Mr. Emrys," she said and he didn't correct her. Like Isolde, her gaze lingered on the sigil before she took the other chair. "A pleasure to meet you at last."

"Likewise, Your Grace," he said, not yet convinced it was true, but willing to be optimistic.

She gestured to the man at her shoulder. He handed her the enormous accordion file before he and Isolde faded back discreetly to the back wall.

Morgause removed a much smaller manila folder to her lap and eased the rest of the file onto the tiny end table between them. The table wobbled; Merlin wondered if Morgause would have to pay for it if it couldn't bear the weight of all her paperwork.

"You may call me Dr. Gorlois, or even Morgause, I suppose." She opened the folder and took her time flipping through the contents. "I must admit, I've missed having a royal consort installed during my tenure. I am looking forward to working with you."

"Likewise," Merlin said again because it seemed safe enough.

It didn't work as well the second time. She gave him a sharp look without quite raising her head. "Are you? Then I wonder that it took you so very long to come here."

"Sorry?" Merlin felt his mouth open, but he wasn't sure what should be coming out of it. "I mean, it was a bit late last night when Arthur gave me the number."

"You needn't get me started on our stubborn Prince. I would wring his neck myself if the magical consequences weren't so horrific."

He started to grin at that, but her icy look shut him down.

"I won't ask why you've waited until he was nearly thirty-one before coming to him. I respect privacy of your personal relationship. But it's been over a week since he finally reached out to you. Is there something about the urgency of this matter that needs clarification for you?"

Merlin stared at her in confusion. "I was on a case. He left me a voicemail."

A stifled noise from the back of the room told him that Morgause's people were not as out of earshot as they looked. Morgause herself leaned back in her chair, pinning him with hard eyes. "I see. Apparently neither you nor the Prince appreciate exactly how close the Pact is to breaking."

The fact that Arthur had called him at all meant it had to be pretty damn close, but the chill of her words stopped any jest before it could start. The Pact breaking sounded ominous enough, but the reality of it was sinking in past his layers of denial. A broken Pact meant Arthur's death.

He drew himself up and met her eyes without wavering. "I'm here now."

Morgause held his gaze another long moment before slowly nodding. "So you are. And while you wouldn't have been my first choice, you are Arthur's choice. At this point, I'd agree to a hedgewitch if it meant Arthur would accept the bond."

Merlin wavered between feeling insulted and relieved. "Who was your first choice?"

"Morgana Pendragon, ideally." She looked down at the file and flipped to another page.

"Arthur's sister?" He knew he was pulling a face. He couldn't help it. Good thing she was still looking down.

"Half-sister. It was quite the done thing in the ancient days, I assure you." She looked up and smiled at his discomfort.

"Yes, because they didn't know about genetics. Or nausea."

Morgause had a laugh as sharp as the rest of her. "Yes, well, magic has its own genetic code. I would have liked to see the House of Pendragon reunited to heal the rift Uther caused when he split his own bloodline. But Arthur would consider no one but you. Eventually, I had to reprioritize."

Merlin didn't answer. If the only alternative was marrying his sister, he could understand why Arthur had called in their schoolboy promises. Still a keen note of disappointment played through him. After last night, he realized, he had begun harboring some hope that Arthur actually was in love with him.

"No matter. All will happen as it was intended. Morgana will almost certainly follow me as High Priestess." Morgause flipped to another page and looked at it for almost a full minute. "And as it turns out, I’m not at all disappointed in you."

"You’re not?" That was hard to believe, though it would be nice if one of them wasn’t disappointed with the way things were turning out.

"You are arguably the most powerful and talented warlock of your generation. Had you been born a girl, you would have been trained for the priesthood without question." She finally turned the page. "I see you’ve been hiding yourself at the Directorate of Magical Investigation. The public will like that."

"And I intend to go back there." Merlin jumped in, feeling confident about at least one thing in this conversation. At least until he kept talking. "I mean, I know that—after I have—er, when the children...."

She looked up and they stared at each other for a long, mortifying instant. "That’s fine," she said at last and resumed flipping pages.

"No, I mean it, I want—what?"

"Mr. Emrys, I require you to soul bond with the Prince of Wales, after which you will need to produce an heir and a spare, as the saying goes. You will also have a number of ceremonial and religious duties. What you do with the rest of your time is not my concern."

"Oh. Good."

"Of course, His Majesty may well have a different opinion on the matter."

As if she had summoned him, the doors opened again and King Uther strode into the room, trailed by his own staff. The King was dressed in his version of casual wear, which meant he had traded his normal suit jacket for a cashmere jumper over his shirt and tie. It did not make him look appreciably more casual.

Morgause rose from her chair and Merlin hastened to follow suit as Uther came right up to him and extended his hand. "Mr. Emrys. How do you do?"

Merlin grabbed the King’s hand in as firm a grip as he could. "Fine, thanks, Your Majesty. Er, we’ve met before."

Uther blinked at him before carefully retrieving his hand. "How could I ever forget? Please, be seated."

Merlin sat, belatedly remembering that the royal "how do you do?" was not a question that required an answer. Uther gestured for one of his people to bring another chair, and Merlin realized that either he or Morgause was in the King’s customary chair. He had a sinking feeling that it must be him.

It was a testament to the importance of the meeting that Uther merely waited for a new chair to be brought. "In fact, I’ve kept rather a close eye on you over the years, Mr. Emrys."

"Have you?" Though he’d expect Uther to be aware of the friends his son kept, Merlin wouldn’t have expected more than a cursory regard for the poorest and commonest amongst them.

"Of course. My son has been in love with you since he was a teenager. I could hardly afford to ignore you and hope you went away on your own, though it’s certainly seemed as though you intended to do exactly that." The chair arrived, and Uther settled into it, facing both Merlin and Morgause as though he meant to interrogate them both at once. "I understand you’ve had a somewhat distinguished career in the Directorate."

"Er. I—" Merlin’s brain struggled to frame an appropriate response, but his brain had stuck two sentences earlier. Arthur was in love with him?

"As I’m sure you know, your Assistant Commissioner served with me many years ago, not long before my succession."

"Yes. He—" He had no idea Arthur’s father had ever known anything about their youthful feelings for one another. If Arthur had felt so strongly for so long that he had told his father—

Uther’s brow creased, but he persevered with his attempt at a jolly façade. "The only man from whom I’ve ever taken orders, I like to say. Other than my own father, of course."

"Right, I’m sorry, but did you say that Arthur was in love with me?" Merlin leaned forward, gripping the arms of his chair until they threatened to snap.

Uther let his forced smile flatten as he leaned forward as well. When his fingertips brushed the sigil hanging from Merlin’s neck, Merlin felt the magic in it respond to the King's touch with a burst of dizzy joy. "You stupid boy. He’s endangered his life in devotion to you. And you wear this great token like one of your cheap accessories."

Merlin’s own dizzy joy stretched his mouth in a grin he couldn’t contain. Dimly he recognized that he probably looked like a mental patient, but he didn’t think anyone could blame him. Merlin had already agreed to the bonding; Uther had no reason to lie to him, which meant Arthur—

Arthur. Arthur was just as much of an idiot as Merlin.

When the doors opened again a moment later, he was seconds away from burbling laughter and grateful for the distraction. At least until he saw the alarm on Uther’s face when he looked up to see who had dared to interrupt them.

"What is it?" the King demanded in a tone that could slice glass. "What happened?"

Merlin turned to see a man leaning in the doorway, out of breath. "The Prince has collapsed. No one can get near him without causing him pain. It’s started."

"You must go to him." Morgause whipped her head towards Merlin. "We’ve no more time for your—"

But Merlin never heard the rest. He was already out the door.


Unlike the Palace, Merlin was much more familiar with the residence at Clarence House Arthur had taken over when he came of age. He raced ahead of his guide, sprinting up the long staircase to the upper floor where Arthur’s private rooms were.

Arthur’s childhood friend Leon stood on guard in front of the bedroom door. When he saw Merlin, his face crumpled with relief and fury. "Where the fuck have you been, Merlin? What the hell have you--?"

Merlin extended a hand and moved Leon out of his way before he was off the last step. Leon grunted and grabbed at the wall, but said nothing as Merlin plunged through the door that had opened on its own before he reached it.

It slammed behind him; he spared a thought to throw the locks as he advanced into the room. Heavy curtains blocked out the daylight, leaving him in near darkness. "Arthur?"

A pained moan answered him. Instantly he started feeling his way along the heavy wood furniture towards the sound. His eyes had just started to adjust when he ran into one of the posts of Arthur’s massive bed.

He groped for Arthur across the expanse of the covers, but when he squinted at the bed, he could see it was unoccupied and neatly made. Merlin leaned on the mattress for a moment and pressed his hand to his chest; the pinprick of the bond outright throbbed now.

Beyond the bed, Arthur groaned again, and Merlin heard a thump as he tried to move. "It’s all right, I’m here," Merlin called and fumbled his way around the bed. "Just hang on, love. I'm here now."

Arthur had collapsed in the furthest corner of the room and lay crumpled against the wall where Merlin nearly tripped over him. "Merlin?"

Merlin dropped to his knees and reached for him. "I’m here, love. I’m here."

"I’m sorry." Arthur pressed his face into Merlin’s neck as Merlin pulled him into his arms. His skin was burning with fever. "I tried. I’m sorry."

"I know, you gorgeous halfwit." Merlin ran his hands over Arthur’s head and body. Arthur had been fading slowly before; now the Pact had run out of patience. Merlin had some success healing minor injuries, but this was beyond the scope of his understanding, let alone his skill.

Magic gave a strong throb in Merlin’s chest. Arthur groaned and burrowed into him as though he were trying to get to it. Magic. He needed magic.

What Arthur needed was Merlin to complete him. Instinct told him that, but also told him Arthur was too unstable to complete the bond now. All he could do was cradle Arthur against him, wrapping as much of himself around Arthur as he could, body and magic.

Merlin concentrated on radiating magic, a gentle mist that could seep into Arthur’s skin and cool his body. He slipped his hand under Arthur’s shirt and rubbed magic up his spine. Arthur moaned again; it sounded less pained than before, and when Merlin kissed Arthur’s cheek, he got a softer sigh in return.

In a series of awkward shifts, he stripped the clothing from Arthur’s unresisting limbs. When Arthur was down to his boxers, Merlin curled back around him and concentrated on soaking him with magic.

Each drop of it plucked at Merlin as it absorbed into Arthur’s hungry soul. He let it pull from him, felt himself tying to Arthur in microscopic increments. When Arthur finally relaxed in his arms, Merlin understood that the Pact had accepted this as betrothal.

"All right now?" He kissed Arthur’s hair. His own breathing had settled; he hadn’t realized how great a pressure the nascent bond had put on him until it eased.

"Yes," Arthur mumbled into his neck. "Thank you. I was coming to the Palace to rescue you."

"Cheers," Merlin answered drily. "But it’s all right. I was having the most fascinating conversation with your father."

Through the magic of their impending bond and the more ordinary magic of their entwined bodies, he could feel Arthur’s uncomfortable contemplation of that. He also felt the moment when Arthur realized exactly how fascinating that conversation could have become.

"I apologize if you heard anything you didn’t want to know." Arthur tried to lift his head up to look at Merlin, but he had barely stirred when he sank back down to rest on Merlin’s collarbone with a sigh.

Merlin wrapped his hand around the back of Arthur’s neck to restrain him. He knew from experience how a magical assault could drain someone, even when it wasn’t your own soul trying to do you in. "I heard they wanted you to marry your sister. I didn't need to know that."

Arthur snickered softly against Merlin's skin. "If it was good enough for the pharaohs, it's good enough for my father. But don't avoid it. What else did he tell you?"

"He told me exactly what I wanted to hear." His other hand stroked down Arthur’s spine to soothe him. "I just can’t understand why you didn’t tell me yourself, you great gormless barmpot."

"What could I tell you that everyone didn't already know?" Arthur's nose pressed harder into Merlin's collarbone. "You know my situation. You know what's between us."

Yes, Merlin had known everything except for one tiny, slightly important detail that Arthur had probably never even considered mentioning.

Arthur was still mumbling, his voice getting fainter as his body tried to drag him into healing sleep. "You had a brilliant life. So proud of you. I had nothing better to offer. I tried to do without you, but I couldn’t, in the end."

The defeat in Arthur’s voice hurt; Arthur would never have let him hear it, if he weren’t so worn down. Merlin felt knackered as well. The magic that had begun binding them still sapped his energy to feed Arthur’s recovery.

He couldn’t fathom trying to get Arthur into bed, so he raised a hand and pulled until the pillows and bedcovers slid off the bed and over to them. Letting Arthur use him as a mattress, he tucked the pillows and covers around them until they lay buried in a warm nest.

"Can I tell you something you need to know?" he said into Arthur’s ear when they were settled, hoping he was still awake.

"If you must."

"I don’t mind the crown nearly as much as you seem to think, not if I get to have you. That’s all you needed to offer me."

This time, Arthur managed to lift his head and stare at Merlin’s face. His eyes looked clear, if a little unfocused. "Tomorrow," he said slowly, "when I’m feeling better, I’m going to kill you."

Merlin bit his lip, then gave up and let the grin spread across his face. "No. Tomorrow, when you’re feeling better, you’re going to bond me. Then we can argue for the rest of our lives over whose fault it was that it took us so long."

Arthur looked back at him, considering. Then he inclined his head to brush his dry lips over Merlin’s in a brief, deliberate promise. A touch of wetness, and then he sank back into Merlin’s neck, asleep almost before he fell still.

Merlin let himself follow. Outside, he could dimly hear people banging on the door, demanding to see the Prince. He ignored them. Morgause herself couldn’t get through that door if he didn’t want her to, and there was nothing he needed from any of them anymore


Merlin woke a little sore from Arthur's weight pressing him into the hard floor for--huh. He had to stare at his watch for a good minute before realizing that they had slept through the rest of the previous day and the entire night. Morning light glimmered through a crack in the curtains; Merlin looked at them, and they drew open on their own.

When the light hit his face, Arthur grumbled in his sleep, rolling away from Merlin to smush his face in a pillow. Merlin grinned. Arthur had always been a grumpy git in the morning. Back in school, it had been Merlin's job to make sure Arthur made it to lectures on time, which he’d usually had to do through physical and magical force.

Today there was no school or work or obligation beyond what they needed to do with each other. Merlin was sure the King and the High Priestess had some questions, but he wasn't inclined to care. Today was the day he bound his soul to Arthur's and despite what they all clearly thought, it had nothing to do with anyone but them.

Thankfully Arthur--what Merlin could see of him--looked the picture of bed-headed beauty and health. The connection hummed so strongly between them that for a stomach-dropping moment Merlin wondered if the soul bond had completed during their sleep. But the pinprick was still there, now feeling more like an oddly pleasant open wound.

Excitement rushed in his stomach at the thought of finally closing it. Now that he was here, settled in Arthur's home and presence, he couldn't imagine why or how he had resisted the idea for so long.

He pulled the covers back from Arthur's body, gently turning him onto his back, but careful to let him keep sleeping a little longer. Arthur was flushed with healthy sleep, and when Merlin rested his hand on his chest, Arthur's heart beat strong.

Below his chest, Arthur exhibited more evidence of good health. Merlin grinned and lowered his hand to the thick erection outlined in Arthur's boxers. He rested his hand on it, motionless, to feel the size and heat of it. It almost filled his hand and at the edge of his palm, he felt the slight swell of the royal knot.

He had to force himself to his feet then, or he would have interrupted Arthur's sleep in a very disruptive way. For once, he supposed, Arthur might not even object, but after yesterday's scare, Merlin would rather not interfere with his natural rest.

And it gave Merlin a chance to shower. He stripped off his shirt and dropped it on the floor by Arthur's feet. The rest of his clothes landed wherever they happened to fall until he finally shed his boxers in a heap in front of the bathroom door. The sigil he placed carefully on top of a hand towel next to the sink.

Though he'd used Arthur's private toilet a few times over the years, he'd never really made himself at home before. Now he stood naked in front of the vanity examining everything Arthur kept here. Merlin let himself touch everything, acquainting himself with comb and toothbrush and razor, picking up each bottle and sniffing each scent that together made the scent he knew as Arthur. He'd have to use Arthur's products, after which he would smell like Arthur as well. He had a feeling Arthur would like that.

The shower compartment felt surprisingly spacious for such an old building; the hot water beat down on him and soothed away his aches. He felt better than he had in weeks: vibrant, happy, aroused. As he tilted his face under the water and closed his eyes, he palmed his cock in a little preview, just to tide him over.

"Don’t you dare."

Arthur’s rough voice made Merlin’s cock swell and jump in his hand. He squeezed it tighter and turned as Arthur slid the shower door open. Arthur stepped one foot inside and loomed in the entrance. He had shed his boxers and stood naked; his cock jutted out enormous and fully erect, swollen at tip and base with its need to latch them together.

"Do you have any idea what it did to me to wake up and find a trail of your clothes leading me away?" Arthur’s eyes were dark with arousal, sharp with a predatory focus. Merlin’s excitement ratcheted higher every second their gazes locked. "Everything still warm from your body. And here you are, naked for me."

"Born hunter, you are." Merlin let go of his cock to reach for Arthur’s. His hand closed around the shaft between the top bulge and the bottom and tugged Arthur into the shower with him.

They fell against the wall, naked flesh meeting for the first time, mouths meeting for the first time in such a very long while. Merlin’s jaw ached as Arthur stretched his mouth wide with the force of his kiss. Their tongues clashed for a brief, intense struggle, and Arthur’s moan rumbled into Merlin’s mouth.

Then Merlin raised his hand to cup Arthur’s jaw and gentle the kiss. Their lips softened, and they pressed together with mouths and chests and thighs in simple, purposeful touches.

Arthur lifted his hands to Merlin’s shoulders and moved him back under the water. His mouth made a slippery glide along Merlin’s jaw line, to his throat, to his shoulder. Merlin’s lips found Arthur’s ear as his hands found his hips and back and arms.

With slow, deliberate kisses and touches, they washed each other. Merlin concentrated on cleansing every inch of Arthur’s skin from the millions of people who had gazed at the beautiful prince with lust, from everyone who was not Merlin who had ever touched him. Arthur performed the same ritual over Merlin’s skin. Merlin felt his intent as clearly as his own, as the magic began to align their souls in preparation for the binding.

Merlin left Arthur’s cock for last because fingers, flannel, and soap would never be enough to prepare it. He slipped from Arthur’s arms and dropped to his knees. His mouth closed around the head and his hand closed around the knot.

He tried to suck Arthur with the reverence such a gorgeous cock deserved, slow and thorough. But as Arthur’s need escalated, so did Merlin’s. He sucked and squeezed, caught up in the way Arthur’s blood surged, giving into the primal urge to drive him higher and harder.

"Enough." Arthur wrenched Merlin to his feet, spun him around and pressed him into the shower wall, face first. The head of his cock prodded at Merlin’s entrance. A rush of magic went through Merlin’s lower body, relaxing his passage in anticipation of coupling. Both of them had been made for this.

The head pressed harder against his rim. They both moaned as it began to give way. Arthur gasped and pulled back. "I want to mount you right here and now. But I won’t be able to stop."

"Neither will I." As well appointed as the bath was, being locked together for hours on the floor of the shower did not speak of comfort. And Merlin didn’t fancy a post-coital waddle to the bed with Arthur’s dick latched into his arse. "Let’s go."

The trip to the bed was awkward enough as it was, with Arthur unwilling to stop kissing and Merlin trying to dry them both with magic, which seemed to involve tangling his fingers in Arthur’s hair and not letting go. The bed was worth it when Merlin tumbled onto it. Not only did it allow him to be horizontal with Arthur, but the bed itself was a gigantic expanse of sumptuous bedding within a heavy wood frame. Merlin felt at home immediately.

Arthur didn’t let them remain horizontal for long. After a few grappling kisses, he got to his knees and hauled Merlin up along with him. They hung onto each other, arms around each other’s shoulders, but even as Merlin swayed toward Arthur’s lips again, he felt a wrenching certainty that this embrace would not do, that he needed to take a more appropriate position.

He twisted around in Arthur's arms until he could grab onto the headboard. His backside rubbed against Arthur's cock and immediately the magic snapped into place.

What scant preparation Merlin required, Arthur performed with military efficiency. Then Arthur seized Merlin’s hip with one hand, using the other to guide his cock back to Merlin’s entrance. He penetrated in a long steady push as Merlin's flesh gave way around him. Neither of them made a sound as their bodies fit together.

Arthur finally gasped as his knot bumped against Merlin’s rim. "Merlin," he said as he took a harder jab. "Fuck. I’ve needed this for so many years."

Merlin arched his back and pushed back against him. The magic shuddered up through his body from the point of their joining. "So have I," he said, and his body tightened with an unbearable tension, indistinguishably sexual and magical.

Common parlance referred to a knotted royal bonding his sorcerer mate, but in reality, it happened the other way around. Merlin’s magic licked out toward Arthur in greedy flares. It demanded to seize and claim and bind him, but Merlin checked it through desperate strength of will. He didn't want to take Arthur like a beast in heat, not when Arthur was taking him in such a gentle way.

His growing empathetic sense of Arthur let him share Arthur’s desires. Arthur wanted slow. Arthur wanted to make love. Arthur wanted to make it last.

Arthur wasn’t going to get his wish for long. Merlin ducked his head and choked back a sob of need and love as Arthur kept fucking him in blissful, rhythmic thrusts. "I love you."

"I love you." Arthur groaned and surged forward so he could stretch out against Merlin’s back. "I love you," he said again, and Merlin could feel it so clearly through every pore that he wondered how he could ever have doubted it. "Merlin, I love you. Bond with me."

"Mate with me." Merlin undulated his hips until Arthur surged into him harder. "Come on. Mount me. Fuck me. Do it right."

Arthur obeyed and the instant he started fucking Merlin harder, the magic drew tighter around them in anticipation. Merlin braced against the headboard with one hand and reached for his cock to pump it in the same rhythm as Arthur was humping into him. The sensation of Arthur’s cock pushing into his flesh was driving him wild—but more than that, he was being undone by the feeling of Arthur’s knot, now hard and swollen, bumping against his hole, stretching the rim and trying to press inside.

An echo hit him: Arthur’s prick, the sweet pleasure in the tip and the building ache in the knot, and the maddening jolt every time the knot felt the beckoning warmth of Merlin’s entrance. "Oh, God, I can feel you. I can feel your knot."

Arthur’s laugh was almost a yelp as he pressed the knot hard against Merlin’s hole. His body trembled against Merlin’s back. "My knot. I think I need to get it into you now."

Merlin closed his eyes with gratitude and nodded. He ached to be filled—he ached to be locked and to finish what they started too many years ago. "I’m ready for it. I want it."

Arthur sat back on his knees, pulling out all his cock but the head. Merlin’s back felt cold and his gut empty. Before he could do more than whine, Arthur’s hands seized around his shoulders and pulled him up, off the headboard and back into Arthur’s arms and onto his cock.

His weight shifted so that the knot pressed harder into his arse. The beginning of the stretch hurt just a little; in response, his body went utterly pliant, beyond his control. Merlin gave into it, relaxing back onto Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur’s arm wrapped around his waist, securing Merlin against him. His other hand gripped Merlin’s thigh, knuckles brushing the smooth, straight underside of Merlin’s cock. "That’s right, sweetheart. Press down."

Merlin pressed down as Arthur rocked up into him. For a moment, Merlin thought they had waited too long, that the knot had already swelled to the locking point and he wouldn’t be able to take it in. "Oh, fuck. How close are you to coming?"

"Fuck, so close. We can do it. Just relax." Arthur’s arm gripped him tighter, keeping him from moving anywhere but down onto Arthur’s knot.

Merlin reached down and moved Arthur’s other hand to his cock. Obligingly, Arthur began to stroke, his shaky breath warming Merlin’s neck as Arthur nuzzled his ear. As the pleasure distracted him, Merlin relaxed more and Arthur pushed up and didn’t relent until Merlin’s flesh finally gave way to the mass of the knot.

"Oh," Merlin said faintly as he clenched around the knot. Then his body jerked as his control slipped. His magic spilled out and rushed giddily into Arthur.

He had thought the soul bonding would be a sudden, violent rush; that was how it had felt against the wall of Arthur’s study when they were sixteen and frantic to get off. But now the magic twined around them in ecstatic swirls, twisting and tightening them together in strong pulses.

Arthur gasped and bit down on Merlin’s shoulder to muffle his cries. His arms and hands tightened as though trying to pull Merlin into his body along with the magic. He drove up into Merlin to get the knot in good and tight, and then started grinding in desperate little humps.

The bond began to solidify, the magic to clarify, and Merlin shuddered from the overwhelming awareness of Arthur. He could feel the give of his own skin under Arthur’s teeth, the warm clutch of his arse around Arthur’s cock, the pressure in his knot and Arthur’s need to complete the union.

He knew the moment the bond closed, when Arthur could feel him as well. Arthur’s muffled noises into Merlin’s shoulder grew wild as he started to feel what Merlin felt: the maddening intrusion of Arthur’s cock, the shifting bulk of the knot. And the magic, binding them.

They rocked and writhed in frantic coupling. The knot swelled until it stopped shifting. Arthur’s hands were all over Merlin’s body. Merlin reached back with magic, reached deep into Arthur and at last claimed him for his own.

Arthur gave a choked cry and started to come. The knot locked them firmly together so that when Arthur’s hips writhed, Merlin writhed with him. Arthur’s warm hand coaxed the come out of Merlin’s cock, but it was only a pleasant background to Merlin's focus on Arthur's seed spurting inside him, sealing their pact.

The initial climax ebbed slowly. When a small bit of sense returned, they carefully lowered themselves to the bed, Arthur curling around Merlin, centered on their locking point. "Is it done?" Arthur whispered, loud in the still sanctuary of the great bed.

"It’s done," Merlin answered, and Arthur immediately gave lie to the words by shivering into renewed orgasm. Merlin groaned in sympathy, feeling it as clearly as if it were his own seed spilling.

The throb of his arse around the knot felt soothing when they settled down into the tie. Every once in a while, Arthur would shiver again and spurt a little more come into Merlin’s locked channel. Merlin drifted into a happy doze, broken intermittently by the half-conscious flares of Arthur’s pleasure in the back of his mind.


Merlin woke with Arthur still wrapped around him, the pillows and duvet having miraculously restored themselves while they slept. The knot had shrunk and Arthur’s cock had almost slipped out, with just the head still catching on Merlin’s rim. But it didn’t matter—Merlin could feel Arthur’s sleepy presence heavy within him.

Arthur stirred against his back just as Merlin’s stomach growled. "I'm hungry," Arthur mumbled into his neck, and Merlin laughed.

"What have you got to eat in this little cottage of yours?" He gave up Arthur’s cock in order to twist himself around in Arthur’s arms. "And it had better be something we can get without putting clothes on."

Arthur huffed and kissed him. He tasted horrible, but somehow it just made Merlin want more. They had not kissed enough before bonding; Merlin could barely remember at all what it was like to kiss without the echo of Arthur’s happiness overriding even the hunger in his stomach.

They kissed until—just as Arthur started to pull Merlin on top of him—their stomachs gurgled again in unison.

"Food?" Merlin reminded him, eager to get all the biological necessities out of the way. They weren’t the physical distractions he was interested in.

"I would have offered you something impressive for your first meal here," Arthur said. "But I suspect there are quite a lot of people outside my door waiting for us, and not to order us a romantic breakfast."

Merlin sat up and extended his senses in a classical magical surveillance technique. "Oh yes," he said after a moment. "I count at least two from the Church and three of your blokes. Let’s keep that door locked, shall we?"

"You’re more useful than I ever gave you credit for." Only the underlying admiration in Arthur’s voice saved him, although not from a pillow in the face. "All right, all right. I think there’s still half a packet of biscuits in the lounge. Much better than eating the bedding, I promise."

They took turns using the loo, and then feasted on Arthur’s leftover chocolate Hobnobs. It was the most delicious meal Merlin ever had. Not a crumb made it to the bed linens because Merlin ate every one.

"I mean, there’s loads of world travel," Arthur was saying as Merlin sucked the last bit of chocolate from Arthur’s thumb. "So that part’s not so bad, is it?"

"I won’t mind it," Merlin allowed, releasing Arthur’s hand. "I don’t mind any of it, really. Not now."

Arthur traced his damp fingers along Merlin’s hip, a shy heat in his gaze as he finished tracing Merlin’s abdomen with his eyes. "Not even the bit where you have to bear my children?"

Heat curled through his belly at the reminder that as soon as the Church validated their union, Arthur would be expected to impregnate him to fulfill the final requirement of the Pact. He couldn’t tell which of them the heat had come from, but he knew they could both feel it.

"No, I don’t mind that at all." The admission left him feeling more exposed than anything else had so far. He pulled the covers up to his shoulders before making his next admission. "Turning into a girl, that part I wasn’t so sure about before."

Arthur withdrew a little—it was almost imperceptible, but Merlin could feel it. "I know you were never keen on the female form."

"Neither were you." Merlin let his eyes drift to the ceiling; this was the one worry he had left. Arthur would do his duty no matter what, but there wouldn’t be much pleasure in it if he found Merlin’s female body distasteful. "I know you dated a couple girls, but not for long."

"I wanted experience both ways." Arthur’s gaze lingered on Merlin as though he could still see him beneath the covers. "But you were always the only one I wanted. Maybe I’ll never know if I wanted you because I liked men, or if I liked men because I wanted you."

Merlin turned his head to look again at his lover, cock swelling at the implication of Arthur’s words. "So you’re saying if I were a woman...?"

"Well, Merlin, I’ve never seen you as a woman, have I?" Arthur shifted and pushed the sheets away so Merlin could see how hard his cock had already grown, caught against his thigh. He moved it up to his belly and rubbed his fingertips against his knot, his eyes challenging Merlin to match his boldness.

Merlin watched the pulse visible in the underside of Arthur’s knot. He felt the tug of Arthur’s curiosity and desire, pulling at their shared magic, urging him to shift his form—and he surrendered.

This time he felt the changes in his body: pressure in his nipples becoming a new heaviness in his chest, the stiffness of his cock melting into the wet softness of his cunt. A soft moan welled up in his throat when it was done.

Arthur echoed the sound. "Merlin, your face. I can see it. God, Merlin, show me."

Slowly, Merlin pushed himself up on his arm and drew the covers away from his body. Arthur’s gaze fell on Merlin’s breasts for a long, hungry moment before traveling down to the curves of hips and thighs and the damp juncture between. Merlin rubbed his thighs together enough to let Arthur feel the echo of the wetness already starting to slick him.

Arthur’s throat bobbed as he stared, eyes darting up and down Merlin’s body as though unable to take in everything he wanted at once. In slow, jerking movements, he got to his hands and knees and moved over Merlin.

He dropped a brief, distracted kiss at the corner of Merlin’s mouth. Then he bent his head to get as much of Merlin’s right breast into his mouth as he could. Merlin hissed when Arthur’s tongue flickered over his nipple—and then moaned as Arthur took his first good pull.

Arthur continued to suckle until Merlin was pushing up against him with hitching little gasps. It was all driving him mad: the suction of Arthur’s mouth, the plush softness of his tit and the way it gave under Arthur’s lips, his stiff nipple under the wet swipe of Arthur’s tongue.

Just as his nipple began to hurt under the rhythmic friction, Arthur pulled off and buried his face between Merlin’s breasts. "So you do take some pleasure in this form," he murmured into Merlin’s skin, tongue flicking out again to taste it.

Merlin snorted and shifted beneath him, restless with slow-surging arousal. "Plenty. I found that out the other night when you were whispering sweet nothings in my ear."

Arthur froze, then pressed a firm kiss between Merlin’s breasts. "Do you mean," he said hoarsely, "that you were like this when I was going on about knotting you?"

"Didn’t even know it until I hung up and reached for my cock." Merlin giggled; he hoped he didn’t sound too girly, but the memory seemed hilarious now with Arthur mouthing at the underside of his other, neglected tit. "And then it wasn’t there!"

"I thought your voice sounded different." Arthur didn’t laugh, drawn back into serious work. He was pressing harder kisses down Merlin’s sternum, down onto his stomach until his tongue dipped into Merlin’s navel.

Arousal ached as much in this body as the other—possibly more, because the ache was inside him as much as outside. He gripped Arthur’s head, digging his fingers into the soft golden hair and pushing his kisses lower and lower.

Arthur waited until his breath stirred the curls on Merlin’s mound. Then he shook off Merlin’s hands and looked up the length of his body with narrowed eyes.

Merlin met his gaze, trapped by it. His legs squirmed to get free of the weight of Arthur’s chest and spread for him.

"Did you touch yourself? Here?" Arthur’s head dipped. His tongue flicked over Merlin’s clit, lifting the hood to leave a daub of wet heat underneath.

One leg finally got free. Merlin stretched it out over the bed as far as he could, ankle tangling in the bedcovers. "Yes," he growled. "But harder. Much harder. I needed to come fast."

Arthur seemed pleased at that. Merlin felt his mouth against his mound, spreading into a smile. "I don’t think you’re going to come fast this time," he said as though commenting on the traffic. Then he buried his face between Merlin’s thighs and made a slow, thorough meal of him.

Although Merlin had no experience with being eaten out as a woman, Arthur clearly knew what he was doing. Jealousy tempted, but without words Merlin knew Arthur had spent so much time going down on women to avoid knotting them. He wouldn’t risk that, not while there was still a chance Merlin would come to him.

As Arthur’s tongue explored each unfamiliar ridge and fold, Merlin could only lie back and enjoy every stroke, every kiss, every suckle. Even the squishy wet noises prodded Merlin closer and closer to orgasm. But he could never quite get close enough to tip over the edge. Now that his legs were spread, Arthur would not even allow him to clamp his thighs around Arthur’s ears.

When Arthur finally lifted his head, his gaze had gone fuzzy. His hand trembled when he pushed himself up on Merlin’s thigh. "I don’t want you to come like this."

Merlin groaned in protest. Arthur’s word had become law in his body.

"You want me to change back?" He wasn’t sure he wanted to. He wasn’t sure he could. Inside him, magic throbbed, eager for mating.

"No." Arthur crawled back up Merlin’s body, until Merlin felt the bulbous tip of Arthur’s cock pressed to the swollen lips of his cunt. "I want you to come with my dick in you. I want to feel you slick around my knot."

In an instant, Merlin’s legs were up and trying to wrap around Arthur’s waist. "Fuck, yeah, now you’re talking sense. Knot me again. Tie my cunt."

"Can’t." Arthur nosed over Merlin’s shoulder to his throat. When he kissed him, he tasted of cunt, odd and stimulating. "Can’t get you pregnant. Not until the Pact is sealed by the Church."

"We’re bonded now. The rest is just ceremony." Merlin kissed him hard, hand clamping around the back of Arthur’s neck to keep him close even after he pulled back. "I’m your consort. Are you really going to let Morgause—or, ugh, your father—tell you when you can have sex with me?"

Arthur grunted and looked down at him, eyes glittering. Merlin only had time to think of how very blue they were before he felt Arthur’s cock penetrating his body.

He pushed in all the way to the knot in one thrust, and then gave one more jab to get the knot in as well. It was so swollen he almost couldn’t pull it out again, and every time he pushed it in, it stretched Merlin to the limit between pleasure and pain.

On the fourth thrust, the knot stuck and they were tied.

Arthur didn’t slow down. He kissed Merlin hungrily as they fucked, bodies surging together with mating passion. They grappled and thrashed, and Merlin gave vocal thanks for the huge and sturdy bed beneath them.

When he could speak at all, that was. Arthur’s knot rubbed without mercy into a spot with a direct link to his clit. The head tapped against what must be the entrance to his womb; every touch made Merlin shiver with the anticipation of Arthur letting loose his seed.

That wouldn’t be long, not for either of them, not when they could feel each other’s pleasure building. Arthur whimpered against his cheek as he gathered Merlin as close as he could, locking their hips even tighter together and crushing Merlin’s breasts against his chest. The soft scrape of Arthur’s chest hair over Merlin’s nipples amplified the throb between his legs.

Merlin didn’t recognize the onset of his climax until he was in the midst of the crest. The sweet heat of it broke through him in jolting waves. It felt like and utterly unlike the sharp peak of male release—which Arthur was now experiencing himself.

He shot jet after jet of come into Merlin’s body, the head of his cock prodding over and over into Merlin’s cervix as though Merlin were a glove made to fit him. Merlin found himself succumbing to another orgasm, body accepting and rejoicing in Arthur’s pleasure as it filled him.

Arthur pulled Merlin’s shoulders half off the bed as he fucked the last of his release into him. Merlin’s head lolled back in dizzy ecstasy until Arthur finally lowered both of them back down to the pillows.

They caressed each other for a while afterwards, distracted by each other’s touch, waiting for the first aftershock. It came in a hard jolt of pleasure that made Arthur gasp and jab up into Merlin again until Merlin's head bumped the headboard. They laughed after that and kissed.

After a few more kisses, Merlin felt Arthur shift and thought he meant to move their locked bodies onto their sides for greater comfort during their tie. Instead, Arthur reached for one of the pillows. Without comment, Merlin lifted them both up enough to let Arthur shove the pillow under his hips.

It did feel more comfortable when their combined weight settled back to the bed. It also tilted his pelvis to help the slide of Arthur’s come into his womb. He wondered if Arthur even recognized the instinct that drove him.

Regardless, Arthur exuded contentment as they began to kiss again. "Your face isn’t that much different," he murmured between deeper explorations of Merlin’s mouth. "But your lips. I don’t know how they’re even possible."

Merlin spent several minutes testing the union of their mouths before answering. "Would you like these lips wrapped around your cock, I wonder?"

"Very, very much." Arthur nuzzled another, gentler kiss. "But after the ceremony. Better stick with your usual self until then, because I don’t think I can keep from fucking you in any form."

"You’re assuming I’m not already stuck like this for the duration." Merlin laughed, relaxed and accepting of the prospect and more concerned with memorizing the planes of Arthur’s back under his hands.

"Nah, it’s only our first time," Arthur said with the confidence of a man who had talked himself into believing what he wanted to believe. "And surely the magic wouldn’t let it happen until after the confirmation ceremony, right?"

"Probably not," Merlin mumbled, and then they shuddered together again as Arthur’s cock shot another spurt of seed into Merlin’s waiting belly.


The cars pulled up to the north entrance of the Abbey at ten minutes before midnight. As he got out of one of the cars, cold prickled through the gauzy tunic Merlin had been hustled into by an entire team of professional valets. Only the knowledge that Arthur was just as cold in his similar garb made it tolerable.

The King, who had gotten away with a perfectly normal suit and tie, strode into the Abbey ahead of them, flanked by the few witnesses permitted onto the sacred ground for this ritual. Merlin fell into step beside Arthur and followed.

All around them he could feel the crackle of Morgause’s power; she and the Abbey deacons had spent hours weaving spells to ensure complete privacy for the ceremony. The public would have their grand televised wedding in a few months, but no one would know anything was happening tonight until Merlin was formally introduced to the press tomorrow.

Not that Merlin’s identity had been a secret for a while. He had glimpsed his face on the front page of the Times just that morning, before an efficient royal staffer had whisked it out of his sight. The headline had read "WHY THE PRINCE WAITED." He supposed he didn’t really want to know what anyone thought of Arthur's long wait for him, or his abrupt ascension into the royal family.

The church doors closed behind them, leaving them in near darkness. Uther and the other witnesses continued on towards the moonlight and candlelight glowing within. Merlin lingered for a moment in the shadows of the dark transept and Arthur lingered with him.

The darkness gave them the freedom to touch. Merlin closed his eyes in happiness as Arthur’s lips brushed his cheek—then rolled them when Arthur’s hand splayed across his stomach. "Will you leave off?"

"Just checking if I can feel anything." Arthur rubbed his belly gently as though expecting to stir the tiny life within.

"It’s only been a few days," Merlin grumbled, putting his hand over Arthur’s but not stopping him as he circled his palm over Merlin’s stomach.

Only a few days since they had finally emerged from Arthur’s rooms, equal parts smug and sheepish. Merlin had worn some of Arthur’s clothing, keeping it loose around his body to hide the feminine curves he could no longer lose, but the ruse had lasted only until Morgause had laid eyes on him.

He’d expected a scandal or at least a scolding. But Morgause had seen the immediate pregnancy as a victory for magic and proof of the righteousness of the union. Uther had merely clapped a traumatized Arthur on the back with paternal pride. "That’s my boy," he boomed and called for someone to bring Merlin a chair.

After that, he had barely seen Arthur during the days as the combined forces of church and palace had prodded and tested and readied him for the final sealing. It made every stolen touch the more precious, and he was halfway into Arthur’s arms before Uther’s voice summoned them from the sanctuary.

They hurried between the tall trees that twined with the stone arches of the church until they reached the circle of trees and columns that had once been Britain’s most sacred grove and now formed the inner shrine of the Abbey. Morgause, now in her full ceremonial robes, awaited them in front of the altar as the bells began to toll the witching hour.

"Who comes before the triple goddess in her holy house?" Morgause intoned into the reverberation of the final bell.

"King Uther comes, anointed king and ruler of this land," Uther answered, stepping to their side. "I bring the heir of my body, Arthur, and his consort who have fulfilled the great Pact of Albion."

"Is the bonding of their souls completed?"

Merlin almost missed his cue, until Arthur jabbed him in the ribs. "It is. We are one in the eyes of the gods."

"The gods have their own eyes to see. Come forward, prince and consort."

Morgause stepped aside as they advanced to the altar. A velvet cushion sat upon it, covered in cloth of gold. A hooded acolyte stepped forward to remove the cloth, revealing the crystal of Neahtid, which Merlin had only ever seen in textbooks.

"Lay your hands upon the crystal," Morgause commanded. "Let the gods look into your souls."

Whether any gods were actually looking, Merlin couldn’t say, but the crystal had power like nothing Merlin had ever felt. He lay his hand on the rough surface of the crystal and felt the magic buzz out at him like a fierce, curious hornet. Then Arthur laid his hand next to Merlin’s, and the crystal lit up like a star.

For a brief, suspended moment, Merlin could see their lives stretching out in slender threads into the future and the past. In that moment, he understood everything about fate, about history, about the Pact and magic itself.

Then he blinked and was back in the Abbey, the crystal humming under his fingers with a sedate glow. Arthur stirred beside him with a confused grunt. Merlin’s head felt perfectly empty now, save for the solid certainty that he had made the right choice.

"I assume that settles the matter once and for all?" Uther looked oddly shaken, but he looked at Morgause with steel in his gaze.

"Indeed," Morgause murmured. "The Pact is fulfilled."

Merlin hadn’t doubted that, but he joined the general sigh of relief as he and Arthur moved to sign the great register in the inner shrine. As Arthur took up the centuries-old quill to pen his name, Merlin stared at the pairs of names marching down the thick vellum page. Uther Pendragon and Ygraine du Bois, and above them, Arthur's grandfather Vortigern and his Prince Consort Ambrosius, and then above them and above them names Merlin only knew from history, centuries into the past.

For the first time, he felt he understood his own place in this history, in the binding of man and magic. His name would be in this book beside Arthur's for all time. He almost fumbled the quill when Arthur passed it to him, but he signed his name strong and clear.

He felt lighter as he moved to clasp Arthur’s hands and receive the blessing from the High Priestess. They tried to maintain the solemnity of the occasion as Morgause droned on, switching between Old and Modern English as though trying to keep them on their toes.

In the end, they couldn’t keep from grinning at each other like the schoolboys they’d been as she completed the blessing. "Go now to the sacred marriage bed. Couple and be fruitful to sustain the pact between man and magic for all time."

Well, they had already taken care of the fruitfulness bit. Merlin’s less-than-fruitful attempts to get his dick back had proven that. But they would go now to the sacred marriage bed and couple anyway.

And when they were finished, Merlin thought with satisfaction as his stomach rumbled, he’d make the Prince of Wales go get him a burrito.

Thanks for reading! All comments extremely welcome!

Date: 2013-01-10 05:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
SO! Let's review. Two no-go tropes that squick me (genderbending + MPREG) + some other writer = Destina runs away with her hands over her eyes. But in an alternate universe, two tropes that squick me + you = a story I not only read, but found charming, and hot, and kind of adorable, with a killer last line. I literally couldn't put it down. I don't know what you've done to me. Possibly I am ensorcelled? Because I enjoyed this story so much I flailed, and that actually defies all logic, and everything I know for a fact about my psyche - except for how my psyche knows gleeful idfic when it sees it. (Is this the strangest comment you've ever had? Probably not. Especially since you know me. *g*) Thank you for a highly entertaining read full of many of the things I love most.

Date: 2013-01-13 04:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
The bonding worked, so worked, you've put me under your spell. I LOVED THIS!

Date: 2013-04-07 05:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
This was so super sweet. There is something epically romantic in realizing that you've been staying away from someone you love for years because you think it's better/will make them happy only to realize they're doing the exact same thing and then doing something to remedy the situation!!! And since yeah I walked, well typed, right into that they- certainly did something about it!! Great story, thanks for sharing.


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Cori Lannam

October 2017


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