
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/982482.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Merlin_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Merlin/Arthur_Pendragon_(Merlin)
  Character:
      Merlin_(Merlin), Arthur_Pendragon_(Merlin)
  Additional Tags:
      Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Omega_Verse, Knotting, Fuck_Or_Die, Sex
      Pollen, Underage_Sex, Age_Difference, Dubious_Consent
  Series:
      Part 1 of Pornathon_2013
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-27 Words: 1327
****** The Omega Run ******
by marguerite_26
Summary
     Arthur immediately recognises what he has stumbled upon. He has heard
     rumours of the barbaric practice still occurring, but he hadn’t
     believed it could be on Camelot’s soil again. Omega Runs have been
     banned from this land for more than twenty years, but this couldn’t
     be anything else.
Notes
     This was written for the 2013 summerpornathon, Challenge 3: Fuck or
     Die.
     There is a dub-con warning on this because of the fuck or die and sex
     pollen elements which took away proper consent.
     Thanks to faith for the beta of the original and cori for the beta of
     the re-write.
See the end of the work for more notes
Arthur immediately recognises what he has stumbled upon. He has heard rumours
of the barbaric practice still occurring, but he hadn’t believed it could be
happening on Camelot’s soil again. Omega Runs have been banned from this land
for more than twenty years, but this couldn’t be anything else. He recognises
the fevered look in the eyes of the man knelt before him.
“Sire,” says one of his newly knighted men. They are all gathered around, the
youngest looking nervous and excited at the adventure of a first patrol. His
battle-hardened knights furrow their brows, understanding what they’ve
uncovered. “Scouts have spotted a dozen more men, armed with ropes and little
else, sniffing their way through the forest.”
Gripping the back of his captive’s neck, Arthur forces him to his feet. “And
what rules does your hunt abide by?”
The man whimpers, his face pinched as he stammers, “Atlov’s Standard.”
Arthur’s nose curls at the acrid scent of urine as the man loses control of
himself, and Arthur tosses him to the ground in disgust.
“Tie him up,” he says to Leon, then louder, “We find the omega by nightfall or
there will be nothing left of him by morning.”
---
Arthur pairs his knights before sending them off -- alphas with at least one
beta to keep them under control should they catch the scent and succumb to the
fever. He doubts any of his alphas have ever encountered an unmated omega, let
alone one in heat.
Arthur trusts himself, though. And he waves off Leon’s look of concern when
Arthur refuses to lead any of the groups. Arthur’s senses are keen; even for an
alpha his tracking ability is considered extraordinary, and he does not need a
beta slowing him down. He sets off at a run.
There is a reason he’s known as the best hunter in the kingdom and it’s not
long before Arthur finds his quarry.
The omega’s clever; the entrance to the cave he has chosen is infested with
blooming carrion flowers, and the air reeks of death, but buried beneath it is
something far too sweet to belong to this forest.
The minute Arthur steps into the cave the previously faint scent of the omega
consumes him. Scent has been a part of Arthur’s life since he was a boy,
learning what it means to be an alpha. He uses it to hunt game, to check his
food for poisons, to check his knights for fear or deceit. He uses it to find
interested bedmates.
It has never before overwhelmed him or tainted his judgement, but in this
moment he understands Leon’s concern -- Arthur’s never encountered anything
like the boy huddled in a corner, trembling at the realisation he’s been found.
Unmated omegas are not permitted within Camelot’s walls. They are disruptive.
And a king tricked by the allure of an omega could put the entire kingdom at
risk. Mates make a king vulnerable; his father had instilled that in him early.
“You’re safe now,” Arthur says, keeping his distance. Sweat already begins to
prickle the back of his neck as he fights the impulse to touch, to claim. The
draw of an omega in heat is more than he’s ever prepared for. “You are free to
return home.”
“I can’t,” the boy gasps. “They fed me herbs.”
Arthur leans closer, letting the fading light from the cave entrance spill upon
the boy’s face. He’s drenched with sweat, his short black hair spiking, his
blue eyes bright with fever. It’s not fear that has him trembling. Arthur
doesn’t need to look to know that the boy’s breaches would be sodden. He tries
not to think of him like that, wet and ready.
Reaching forward, Arthur touches the boy’s forehead. “The herbs,” he whispers,
“they did this to you?”
The boy curls himself tighter, his face flushing an even higher colour.
The genius of it horrifies Arthur -- Atlov’s Standard states that all omegas
are slaughtered after the claiming. The herbs ensure that even if the omega
escapes the Run, he’ll die from the heat fever if he isn’t claimed, taking the
secret of the illegal Run with him either way.
Arthur kneels beside the boy. There’s little more than an arm’s length between
them, though it feels like too much. “What’s your name?”
He startles, clearly not expecting even this much courtesy. “Merlin.”
“Merlin.” Arthur resists asking how old. He’s old enough to go into heat. “You
understand what I have to do?”
He looks so young as he nods. “Do it.”
Arthur strips them both with quick, efficient hands, as he would a knight
needing wounds tended too. With the boy laid out beneath him, the pretence of
detachment is impossible to maintain. His hands shake as he guides Merlin to
lay on his belly. His fingers find Merlin as slick and open as any filthy tale
he’s heard told by a campfire. He grips Merlin’s hips with the need to thrust
inside, to take and take, as is his due as an alpha.
A choked sob from Merlin steals Arthur from his daze, reminding him he is
saving the boy’s life in doing this, not chasing his own desires.
“Shh,” he whispers, stroking Merlin’s back until the trembling eases. “I’ll
take care of you.”
Nose pressed to Merlin’s cleft, Arthur licks at the wetness there. It’s sweet
and heady. Arthur’s dizzy with it already. Merlin shoves against Arthur’s
mouth, making a high-pitched whimper, and Arthur spears his tongue at the
already loose, waiting hole.
Arthur does it again and again until his face is sloppy and Merlin’s begging
turns into sobs.
How he’d ever resisted such pleasure is beyond comprehension. He feels the
danger; he would give his kingdom for another taste of this. Only he knows, he
knows this boy who melts so sweetly under his touch would not ask such a price.
When they can’t take the teasing any longer, he mounts Merlin like an animal,
jerking his hips and pushing in gracelessly. They are both too desperate for
gentle touches. He thrusts deep, letting the heat and omega-slick surround his
cock like nothing else has. There’s a feeling in his belly, a warmth shimmering
inside him that can only mean one thing, but he doesn’t stop. His cock plumps
at the base: a knot he knew was possible but never once experienced starts to
form.
This is what his father hid from him, what the laws of Camelot fought to
protect him from.
His eyes fill with the wonder of it.
He clings to Merlin as they lock together, reaching around to fist Merlin’s
cock like he never wants to let go. It’s glorious when Merlin finds his
release, stretched wide around Arthur’s knot.
The warmth in Arthur’s chest settles to contentedness as they fall asleep,
heartbeats in sync.
---
They wake to the sounds of Arthur’s men searching for them and Merlin’s eyes
are already wide with panic. He can guess Merlin’s thoughts, that any promises
Arthur had made for his safety have evaporated like the dew in the harsh
morning light.
He hears Leon’s voice in the distance, calling out orders to the men combing
the woods.
“Do you trust me?” Arthur says to Merlin and waits until he receives a nod -
- though it looks like it’s given more out of desperation than trust.
It will be complicated and his father will be furious, but nothing has felt
more honourable, more right, and Arthur’s too far gone on this boy already to
turn back now. If he can get word to Gaius to meet them on their return path,
the bonding ceremony could be done in the woods, with his most trusted knights
for witnesses. They will be formally mated before his father will even hear
word of this.
“What are you going to do with me?” Merlin asks.
Arthur kisses the furrow of Merlin’s brow and says, “How do you feel about
living in a castle?”
End Notes
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