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Chapter Text

"Father," Arthur acknowledged the King as he entered the council chamber, Uther sat alone at the head of the table surrounded by papers and looking as grim as the Prince had ever seen him. No, not just grim, decided Arthur. The King looked as though the reports contained something personally distasteful to him.

Uther rose sharply and walked around behind his chair. Without looking at his son, he said, "Arthur. You're going to Ergyng."

Arthur's lips set into a grim line. "How many troops am I to take?"

Uther glanced at him briefly before grinding out, "On a diplomatic mission."

Arthur's eyebrows rose into his hair. "Has Queen Rhea suddenly decided to outlaw sorcery?"

"No." Uther's answer was bitten off and he pinned his heir with a challenging stare.

Arthur drew in a breath. "When do I leave?"

Uther sucked in his cheeks. "Where's that servant of yours?"

"Merlin?" asked Arthur, confused by the sudden change of subject. "Changing the bed linen, at least a few minutes ago."

Uther nodded sharply. "It will take at least a fortnight to get him properly outfitted."

Arthur struggled mightily to follow his Father's thoughts. "Father, you know I will obey your orders, but I could use some details."

Uther began to pace. "Alined refuses to sell Camelot any further stores of iron and instead sells the produce of his mines to the Saxons."

"True," said Arthur, stepping toward his father and crossing his arms over his chest thoughtfully. They'd already been over that problem but this was the first Arthur had heard his Father mention the kingdom of Ergyng in connection with it. Ergyng also had iron mines, not as plentiful as Alined's kingdom, but plentiful enough. Their diplomatic ties to Camelot, however, were limited to a very cold, "You stay on your side of the border and we'll stay on ours."

"We need iron ingots for weapons," said Uther.

"Also true," agreed Arthur.

"We could go to war," said Uther, agitatedly. "I've no objection to overrunning Ergyng and taking what we need."

"Costly," snorted Arthur, remembering that a war had been fought with Ergyng while he'd been a young squire, mostly on Eryging's soil, but Ergyng had used magic to make retaliatory strikes inside Camelot's borders. Both sides had suffered losses and a cease-fire had only been achieved with King Godwyn mediating, and then only because Mercia had taken advantage of the situation and attacked from the northeast. Fighting two wars on opposite borders being a foolish strategy, Uther had gritted his teeth then, almost exactly as he was now, and offered Ergyng peace. "If a diplomatic solution has been offered?"

Uther stopped his pacing and pursed his lips in anger. Snatching a letter from the table, he crushed it in his fist. "Rhea told me flatly that she'd be happy to see me burn on a pyre. She then expressed a hope that your reign will be more cordial and expressed an interest in meeting you. Her condition for even considering a treaty to allow the sale of her iron to Camelot is that you undertake a visit of state to Ergyng." Uther threw his hands up as he started to pace again. "I do not wish to risk you."

"It's a reasonable risk," said Arthur, thoughtfully. "If I did not return, Camelot would declare war. Gawant and Nemeth are both likely to support us, surrounding Ergyng neatly. Rhea must know that, surely."

"I don't know that she knows anything of the kind," Uther said, as he stopped behind his chair and grasped the back. "Rhea supports sorcery. This could be a trap; for revenge or to get you under some kind of enchantment. I'm sure I can't even imagine what that woman's thinking. Don't make the mistake of thinking she's a soft ruler because she's a woman. Oh, no. Insane possibly, but her army is in good order."

"So I've heard," said Arthur recalling reports on the relative strengths and weaknesses of the military interests of Camelot's nearest neighbors.

Uther grabbed his son by the shoulder, pulling him closer. "Listen to me, Arthur. Rodor and Godwyn won't support a war for resources, I've already asked. You're probably right that they'd support me if I lost you to Rhea's tricks, but I have no wish to lose you."

"I'll be careful, Father," Arthur assured his King.

"You must be more than careful," Uther said, releasing his son. "I am going to send you, so there can be no doubt of the legitimacy of any treaty that comes of this visit, but I'm sending you in disguise. You're to trade places with your manservant."

"Father!" protested Arthur. "That will never work. Merlin is useless with a sword, not to mention we look nothing alike…"

Uther interrupted his protests. "Queen Rhea promises you safe passage. No one will have to fight unless you are betrayed. And Merlin may not look like you, but he spends all his time with you. And he's actually quite well educated with Gaius as his tutor," Uther's tone said quite well educated for a peasant. "I've no doubt he can represent Camelot's interests effectively with a little coaching from you." Uther tipped his head thoughtfully. "He also has a reputation as the clumsiest servant in Camelot, so if you need to get him alone to prevent him from making promises Camelot will not keep, you can always spill something on him."

"His reputation?" spluttered Arthur. "What about my reputation? No one will believe Merlin is a knight. He doesn't walk like a knight. He doesn't act like a knight. He certainly can't fight like a knight. One challenge and he'd be done for."

Uther waved away his son's concerns. "So fight in his place and keep your face plate down. I'm much more concerned about assassination attempts and enchantments. It's either this or war, Arthur. I believe we would win, but it would be costly without allies to help us win quickly."

Arthur ground his teeth. "As you command, my King."

Chapter Text

Arthur silently thanked God for small favors and good friends as he dismounted and followed his servant into the Royal Court of Ergyng. Gwen, for instance, had succeeded in convincing his Father that a waist length mail shirt under his clothing was upscale for a servant, but not out of place for a favored servant of a high lord accompanying him into a dangerous situation. She'd also searched the armory and found an old Roman short sword to wear at his belt that held an excellent edge. It wasn't the hauberk and broad sword he was used to, but he felt some relief at having some armor and arms. Merlin had had great fun 'aging' some of Arthur's older clothes, so at least he could wear his own clothes. And Gwen and Merlin had also spent hours going over how to act like a servant and deciding which situations he'd need to lower his eyes, and when he could simply be himself, as long as he treated other servants as equals. Arthur thought he had it, and hoped he could pull off the charade.

Merlin, walking ahead of him in tailored new clothes, strode straight and tall as befit a prince. Trying to acclimate Merlin to spending all day in armor had been a disaster, the slender man just didn't have the muscle for it. So instead he wore a tightly-fitted leather jerkin, dyed dark enough to set off this fair skin, over a high-collared linen shirt in Camelot red. Arthur had less confidence in Merlin's acting ability than his own, but he had to admit, his servant had enough impudence and gall to be taken for a royal, even if of the more arrogant sort.

A dozen Knights of Camelot followed behind, handpicked by Arthur for their discretion, Leon directly behind Arthur. They'd drilled privately about what to do if things went badly. Arthur and Merlin would do their best to get back to back so the knights could protect them as one. That way, hopefully, the Ergynings wouldn't realize who was being protected.

As they passed through the archway into the throne room of Ergyng, Arthur caught his first look at Queen Rhea, standing on the raised dais before her throne, her heir, fifteen-year-old Prince Thaddeus beside her. Despite being two decades younger than Uther, Queen Rhea looked decidedly matronly. She was tall and stately but carried a chubbiness that belied her eight children, six still living. Her fair hair hung in coiled braids around her shrewd features. But the instant her eyes lit on Merlin her whole countenance lit up like a cat offered an entire jug of cream.

Arthur tried to keep his eyes down somewhat as they passed the murmuring rows of lords and knights filling the throne room, assessing the Camelot contingent. It galled him to have to hide in this way, but he could not fail his Father even in this.

Merlin advanced to the foot of the dais and bowed a proper half bow to the monarch. "Greetings from Camelot, Your Royal Highness, and thank you for receiving this delegation."

Rhea's delighted grin threatened to split her face. "This is indeed a great day. We greet you, Lord Emrys." Then, looking over Merlin's head straight at Arthur she added, "And you also, Prince Arthur of Camelot."

Arthur felt like swearing. He'd warned and argued with his Father as often he dared that their charade would be found out, but he never thought it would be so quickly.

"Did you not think we would know what you looked like, Highness?" crooned Rhea affably. She motioned at a burly knight standing to the side of the dais, handing him a coin. "Is this not a coin of Camelot?"

The knight, who Arthur assumed was Sir Hector, the Queen's brother and her head knight, walked confidently up to Arthur, a grin more mirthful than his monarch's splitting his beard, and offered a silver coin to the Prince. Arthur drew his back straight but barely glanced at it. He knew what coin it had to be and needed little to confirm it. "Yes, Highness. My Father had those commissioned for my coming of age year."

"Camelot's silversmiths are very talented," said Rhea warmly. "It bears a fine likeness of you."

Arthur stepped up to the foot of the dais, displacing a pale Merlin, who stepped back with his head bowed as Arthur passed. "My apologies for the deception, Queen Rhea."

"No doubt some plan of Uther's," replied Rhea, her features momentarily tightening at the mention of the King's name. "It is forgiven. No one shall mention the matter further."

"You are very gracious, Highness," said Arthur politely, recognizing an order to the court and relieved to have the deception excused so easily.

"Undoubtedly you will want to freshen up before the feast this evening," said Rhea lightly, her eyes dipping to take in his worn clothing. She motioned two young menservants forward. "Mark can attend you during your stay here, Highness, and Devon can attend Lord Emrys."

The Prince corrected her haltingly, "I'm afraid you're mistaken, Queen Rhea." Arthur reached back, indicating Merlin with an open hand. "Merlin is my manservant."

Rhea's lips closed over laughter. "We are well aware of Lord Emrys' true rank, Prince Arthur, even as we were aware of yours. You need not worry, however, I have no intention of disturbing your domestic arrangements. Your rooms adjoin. I will, however, insist that Lord Emrys be seated at my feast."

Arthur sensed that this was not a point he wanted to argue. Bemusedly, he responded, "Thank you. I'm sure Merlin will enjoy not being on his feet for a feast for a change."

"Undoubtedly," agreed Rhea, her eyes twinkling. "If either of you require anything, don't hesitate to ask. Mark and Devon know well how to provide whatever this castle has to offer. This meeting need not be made any more awkward for the want of… any bauble either of you might have forgotten to pack."

Arthur felt his face color, certain the Queen was referring to his clothing. "I believe we've covered most eventualities, Highness," said Arthur, knowing some of his nicer things were mixed in with Merlin's, "but I thank you for your generosity."

Queen Rhea bowed slightly, excusing the Camelot delegation and Arthur strode back the way they'd come.

As soon as they exited the throne room, the lighter haired of the two servants came up beside Arthur and bowed. "This way, Highness." Arthur followed his direction, but glanced behind him, noting that the dark-haired servant followed Merlin circumspectly. The knight who'd been at the foot of the dais clapped Sir Leon on the shoulder and pointed Arthur's men toward the knight's hall. Arthur ground his teeth and hoped to find his baggage already in his room as had been promised when they arrived in the courtyard.

After climbing a flight of stairs, the servant opened a door and stepped aside for the Prince to enter first. The other servant opened the next door down and stood aside waiting for Merlin. Arthur noted the vacant look in Merlin's eyes and made sure to use his own to inspect his room before entering it. The chamber looked as inviting as any guest room in Camelot. Arthur wondered if the canopied bed had been made up all in Camelot red for his benefit or if it usually looked that way. The servant entered directly after the Prince and threw open a connecting door between this chamber and the one assigned to Merlin, which proved to be as well appointed as the Prince's own.

Merlin walked into the chamber slowly, worrying his lip with his teeth and seeming to notice nothing around him. After years of association with his servant, Arthur recognized the expression. The only time Merlin looked that vacant was when he was thinking, and most usually trying to come up with lies to tell his Prince. Arthur strode into Merlin's chamber angrily, announcing to the room, "Our things seem to have gotten a bit mixed up. The two of you can try to sort them out in my chamber." He glared at Merlin's assigned manservant, who looked to Merlin for permission. When he took no notice, Arthur called his attention sharply, "Merlin!"

Merlin looked around, finally taking in his surroundings and motioned to the manservant to go. The young man picked up a bag that had been placed at the foot of the bed and disappeared into Arthur's chamber, closing the door behind him.

Arthur took his volume down a bit in deference to prying ears that might be up against the door, though he saw no shadow. "Merlin." But his servant's attention seemed to have wandered out of the room again. "Merlin," said Arthur again, this time taking his servant by the shoulders.

"Hmm?" asked Merlin, his eyes pointed in the right direction but still unfocused.

"Merlin," said Arthur, trying for patience. "I need you to tell me why Queen Rhea thinks you're a lord."

Merlin shrugged and said absently, "No idea."

"Well, that's just the thing," said Arthur, releasing his servant's shoulder with a slight shove. "I think you do have an idea. And considering that Camelot needs Eryging's resources enough for Father to send me on this fool's errand, I need to know everything I can to accomplish this mission. Now, you know something, Merlin, and your usual excuse of spending time at the tavern just won't cut it."

Merlin gave his Prince a lop-sided grin. "Arthur, how would I know what a foreign queen is thinking? Really?"

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest. "All right. I'll have to make my own guess." Merlin raised an eyebrow at him, which was good, Arthur had his attention. "So far, I'm thinking that Queen Rhea thinks you're my leman."

Merlin's mouth dropped open in horror. "No, Arthur, that is not it."

"Makes sense," said Arthur, relishing Merlin's discomfort. "She did put us in adjoining chambers. And she said she didn't want to interrupt my domestic arrangements."

"That wouldn't make me a lord," insisted Merlin.

"Not unless I were to elevate you after my coronation. Such scandals have been known to happen. Though I can't imagine where she got the name Emrys." Arthur flicked a hair away from Merlin's eyes and his servant ducked away from him. "Father would never approve. Maybe that's why Rhea thinks I'm different enough from my father to try to make a connection. If that's what she's thinking, we could play it up. Or don't you think I'm handsome enough?" Arthur struck a pose.

"I think you're a prat," spat Merlin.

"And I think you're holding out on me," said Arthur aggressively. Seeing Merlin's mouth button up tight, Arthur switched to wheedling. "Come on, Merlin. Would it kill you to trust me just a bit?"

"Possibly," Merlin hissed, his eyes sliding away.

Arthur tensed, certain now that Merlin knew something he needed to know. "Part of the truth? Could you just manage a piece of it?" When his servant's eyes moved shiftily, but he stayed silent, Arthur was sure he'd only lie again and he angrily turned away to the window.

"Part of the truth?" asked Merlin tentatively.

"If that's all you can manage," growled Arthur over his shoulder.

Hesitantly, Merlin said, "I am Emrys."

Surprised, Arthur turned around. "Go on."

Merlin's eyes continued to shift like knitting needles clacking. "Well, it's so silly, Arthur. Really."

Arthur stared at Merlin, willing him to continue. "What's so silly?"

Merlin scrubbed at the back of his neck with one hand. Arthur wished he'd quit his twitching. Slowly, he ground out, "Sorcery isn't illegal in Ergyng. So it makes sense that the druids can come here safely. Rhea would have had to have heard that name from them."

Confused by his servant's usual blathering, Arthur asked, "The druids call you Emrys?"

Merlin nodded briskly. "That's their name for me, yes."

Arthur wondered how wild his servant's imagination had gotten for this one. "And the druids think you're a lord?"

Merlin denied it with an incredulous laugh. "No. They've never called me a lord, but they do call me Emrys."

"All right," said Arthur, wondering how long he'd have to play the line before he could pull this fish tale ashore. "Why do the druids call you Emrys?"

"Oh that's nothing," said Merlin becoming excited. "You should hear what they call you."

"Me," said Arthur thoughtfully. "And what do the druids call me?"

"The Once and Future King," said Merlin with a huge grin.

Arthur's brow lowered over his eyes. "I'm not a king."

"Nor am I a lord," said Merlin happily.

Arthur lowered his head into his hand. "Merlin, I asked you for your help…"

"But the whole thing's ridiculous," Merlin interrupted him. "To the druids, you're the Once and Future King, the King of all Albian, High King, meant to unite all the lands against a common enemy. And then you're supposed to come back in a future life and do it all again."

Arthur had raised his eyes and was staring at his servant. "A future life?"

"Yes, isn't that ludicrous?" asked Merlin, grinning.

"And you're… Emrys?" asked Arthur, looking for more of an explanation.

Merlin looked down and scuffed his toe against the floor. "Well, yes. I'm part of the legend too. Apparently. That's probably why Queen Rhea used the name. To let you know she recognized the prophecy."

"Oh, so now it's a prophecy?"

"Well," said Merlin looking away again. "Yes."

"Ok," said Arthur flatly.

"Ok?" asked Merlin.

"Yes," said Arthur, gaining confidence. "This could work."

"What could work?" asked Merlin, his voice deepening as he slid his eyes sideways at his lord.

"So I'm this Once and Future King?"

"Yesss," said Merlin suspiciously.

"King of all Albion?"

"According to the druids," agreed Merlin carefully.

Arthur shrugged. "Then all I have to do is act as though Rhea is one of Camelot's lords. I know how to be Heir to the Throne, Merlin. Heir to a throne that doesn't actually exist might be stretching it a bit, but if Rhea believes she'll be swearing fealty to me in a few years, that gives me a certain amount of power. I can bargain on that. I just have to do it without actually claiming it."

"Of course you do," agreed Merlin looking incredulous.

"That is, if you really think I should?"

"You're asking me, Arthur?"

Arthur huffed. "If I had something better to work with, Merlin, believe me I would." Arthur stepped closer to his servant and pinned him with a glare. "Occasionally, Merlin, very occasionally, you've been known to give me good advice. If this is one of those moments and not one of your usual fabrications, I'd be a fool to pass up the recommendation. But I need your word. Can I act on the assumption that Queen Rhea believes me to be her future King?"

Chapter Text

Merlin, seated to Arthur's right, picked up the Prince's goblet as soon as the servant placed it and took a sip. He wiped the cup and handed it back to Mark with a whispered request to water down the wine. Arthur knew that Merlin usually tasted his wine before it was served, and a lot of his food as well. He just usually did it with his back to the assembly, not while seated next to the Prince at the head table.

Queen Rhea, seated on Arthur's other side, had watched this process throughout the meal with amusement. "Truly, Lord Emrys, you need have no fear for your Prince here. Nor for yourself."

"Merlin would be protective of me anywhere, Highness," Arthur assured her, "But it is excellent to hear your assurances. My Father is anxious for better relations between Camelot and Ergyng." Arthur hadn't dared mention Uther until the meal was over and everyone was in a good mood. He wasn't sure it was wise now, but he was still gaining a feel for the monarch.

The Queen pursed her lips. "If the price of my death was a jig, Uther Pendragon would eagerly climb on a table and flash his heels. Speaking of…" Queen Rhea clapped her hands and ordered, "Clear back the tables. Let us have dancing!"

The lords, ladies, and knights at the lower tables all leaped to obey and quite a few pulled back their own chairs to the walls without waiting for the servants. Some even helped to lift the still laden tables and move them smoothly. The Camelot knights were a bit slower but willing enough to take themselves out of the way.

Queen Rhea rose and looked over Arthur's head. "Lord Emrys, would you oblige me?" she asked, holding out her hand. When Merlin started to stammer and obviously didn't know how to respond, she spoke aside to Arthur. "One of the lovely things about being Queen is that all the handsome young men have to oblige me on the dance floor."

"You may have to excuse Merlin, Highness. I doubt he knows how to dance and if he does, I imagine he'd be as hopeless at it as he is with a sword."

"Better than you," snapped Merlin, rising and taking the Queen's hand. "At least we had dancing in Ealdor. Uther hasn't held a dance the entire time I've been in Camelot."

Rhea laughed as Merlin led her to the dance floor. "Then I will excuse you for being out of practice, my Lord."

They took places facing each other at the head of the line as Arthur watched, dumbfounded. Merlin was right. He did know more about dancing than Arthur did, despite obviously not knowing the steps and missing the measure frequently, Merlin merely laughed and did his best to keep up. Rhea seemed thrilled with Merlin's awkward willingness to learn.

Sir Hector leaned across his monarch's chair as the music began. "I'd be happy to find you a partner for the next dance, if you like, Highness. You needn't worry that we'll be trying to marry you off at least, as Rhea hasn't any daughters out of the nursery."

Arthur found he couldn't take his eyes off his manservant. "Yes. I suppose as this is the custom, I should join in," he agreed absently.

Sir Hector disappeared momentarily, but returned with a beautiful young woman. "Prince Arthur, may I introduce the Lady Delila? I'm afraid her husband is down with a broken ankle and I would hate for her to miss out on the dancing. She's an excellent dancer and I'm sure can help your Highness learn the steps."

Arthur rose and bowed. "I thank you for the courtesy, Sir Hector. Lady Delila?" he asked, offering her his arm as the music ended. They took places in the lines next to Sir Leon and his partner. Sir Leon, Arthur quickly realized, was an excellent dancer and Arthur watched him as much as he watched his partner, trying to keep up. Once Arthur picked up on the patterns, he began to have fun. As the next dance began, Arthur noticed Queen Rhea walk out to the courtyard on Merlin's arm, no doubt to question him as subtly as she might. Well, Rhea would get little out of Merlin. For all his servant shot his mouth off about Arthur's supposed character flaws, he did know how to keep the important things quiet. Unless Rhea used magic. Arthur frowned slightly, but Sir Endwyn seemed to have the same thought because he followed distantly behind them.

A cool breeze gently stirred the pennants on the walls of the stone courtyard as Merlin stepped out of the festivities with the Queen on his arm. And if that situation could be any more surreal, Merlin couldn't imagine how.

Queen Rhea wrapped her arm more tightly around Merlin's and patted with her other hand as well. Smiling up at him, she asked, "What worries you, Lord Emrys?"

Merlin couldn't help stiffening slightly and not from the cool night air. "That you call me Emrys. That everyone here calls me Emrys."

"You would not be Emrys if you could avoid your fate?" asked Rhea mildly.

Merlin looked back over his shoulder to where one of the Camelot knights loitered under the overhang of the door to the great hall. Keeping his voice low, he explained, "No one in Camelot can know. Not yet. It's worth my head."

"Then no one shall know," agreed Rhea, smiling.

"Well, it's a little late now," Merlin grumbled.

"You have no faith in prophecy, Sorcerer?" she teased. Merlin tensed and spluttered, but the Queen laughed lightly, and pushed against him to keep him walking. "No one from Camelot will know of your magic because if they knew, the prophecy would not come true. The winds of destiny protect you, Lord Emrys. That and that Arthur Pendragon doesn't want to know. I suspect he's nearly the master of willful obliviousness his father is."

"Arthur's not stupid," said Merlin quickly.

"Neither is Uther," said Rhea, with a poisoned smile, "for all he's an ignorant, intolerant, oppressive tyrant."

"But you'll still sign a trade treaty with Camelot?" asked Merlin hopefully.

"Not so long as Uther Pendragon sits on the throne," replied Rhea, sitting down on a stone bench and pulling Merlin down beside her.

"Then why bring Arthur here?" asked Merlin worriedly.

Rhea straightened her skirt over her knees. "So he would bring you."

"I won't help you, you know," said Merlin firmly. "My loyalty is to Arthur."

"Of course it is," said Rhea, patting his arm again. "As is right and proper. We have no intention of coming between you. In fact, I've arranged a bit of camouflage for you, if it becomes necessary."

"Camouflage?" asked Merlin curiously.

"Have you been able to speak to your servant privately?"

"No."

"Devon is a sorcerer, not of your caliber, of course," said Rhea, forestalling his objections. "If for any reason you must use your magic to protect your prince, Devon will take the blame. Magic is perfectly legal here, so as long as Arthur doesn't murder him at once, he needn't fear any consequence."

"You just… but…" stammered Merlin, open-mouthed. He drew in a sharp breath and hissed, "A lot of sorcerers hate Arthur for his father's policies."

"And more of them revere him as the Once and Future King, at least here in Ergyng." Rhea smiled up at him. "That will spread. Arthur will have the protection of magic throughout the land, though much less so in Camelot where Uther's atrocities are well remembered."

"I will keep Arthur safe," vowed Merlin.

"No doubt," agreed Rhea. "Prophecy says you will succeed, but at what cost? What have you already lost without allies to support you?"

"I have a few allies," said Merlin defensively.

"Who must hide from Uther's tyranny, as you must, Lord Emrys," said Rhea.

Merlin closed his eyes momentarily. "Please stop calling me that."

"Emrys?" asked Rhea.

"Lord," replied Merlin, locking his gaze with hers.

She shrugged. "And yet, you are." She leaned toward him and whispered, "Lord of Magic."

He stood up abruptly and stared down at her. His voice suddenly authoritative, he asked, "Why the verbal fencing? You brought Arthur to Ergyng for a reason and you brought me out here away from him for a reason."

Her mouth thinned into a prim line and she folded her hands in her lap. Quietly she asked, "Can I trust you, Emrys?"

He shook his head. "My loyalty is to Arthur."

She waved that consideration away. "I know that, but is your first consideration for Arthur or for Albion?"

"They're the same," said Merlin firmly.

The Queen frowned. "That is what I fear."

Merlin's eyes narrowed. "I don't understand."

She peered up at him, leashed fury in her eyes. "If the mad king declares war on Ergyng, Arthur Pendragon will lead Camelot's armies, will he not?"

"Yes," agreed Merlin shortly.

She looked away from him, her eyes moving as though considering options on a chess board. "My armies cannot fight against the Once and Future King. Not even before he's crowned. It would become a rout and my people refugees in whatever lands would have us. I fear those would be few and far away."

"You could surrender," suggested Merlin sympathetically. "Arthur would treat your people well."

Rhea laughed shortly. "And let the pyres burn throughout the land? How many would die in those fires, my lord? How many would die trying to defend their loved ones?"

Merlin looked away, knowing that Uther would order a purge and Arthur would be powerless to stop it. In fact, he'd have to enforce it. The only other option would be to challenge Uther for the throne and Merlin didn't believe Arthur would ever do that. Weakly he suggested, "Arthur… would do what he could."

"What he could, would not be enough," said the Queen vehemently. "If I could kill Uther Pendragon and put his son on the throne immediately, I'd have Camelot covered in assassins."

Merlin startled. "Do you?"

"No," she answered, meeting his eyes coldly. "Killing Uther Pendragon would ensure a war with the High King. A war I could not win. No, we must become allies of the High King, not his enemies."

Merlin released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and sat down once again beside her. "Then you must sign the treaty with Camelot."

Queen Rhea smiled at him once again, but now Merlin thought her smile more of a mask. She reached for his hand and took it between hers. "I will ally with the High King, not the mad tyrant. And you are the key to that, Lord Emrys, if you are the honorable man I take you for."

Merlin smiled his own mask. "Arthur is the one all concerned about his honor. I just serve him."

Rhea arched her brow at him. "Yes, I think you will serve just fine," she said cryptically. "Shall we return to the feast, my lord? I'm afraid if I am gone too many dances, people will gossip."

Merlin hurried to his feet and offered her his arm.

Arthur smiled at his dance partner and tried to put any worries out of his mind. Three dances later, the queen returned with his manservant, who promptly found himself another partner while the Queen danced with her brother. It was hours later before the Queen brought the dancing to an end. She really had worked her way through all of the handsome young men of the court, as well as spared a dance for Arthur and several of his knights. Arthur would have sooner died than admit the exhaustion he was feeling, but he had to admit he'd sleep well that night. As soon as the Queen excused herself for the night, Arthur did the same.

Merlin walked through the corridors beside him looking as though he'd already fallen asleep and just forgotten to lay down first. At the door to his chambers, Arthur dismissed the two servants who'd trailed them, saying, "We don't stand on much ceremony at night. I'm certain Merlin and I can attend to our own needs."

Again, the dark-haired servant waited for Merlin's confirmation before accepting the dismissal, his expression far too adoring for Arthur's taste. Arthur dragged Merlin into his chambers, the knowing look in Mark's eyes all too easy to read. Arthur was happy to shut the both of them out. The soft light of the slow fire left in the hearth lit the room with an eerie glow. Merlin took a taper from the mantle and lit a pair of fat tallow candles. He carried them to the bedside. Arthur took a moment to give the door the glare he would have liked to give the two servants while Merlin turned down his covers and took out Arthur's sleeping clothes.

"So how do you like being a lord?" Arthur asked as he pulled off his vest and linen shirt.

Merlin grimaced at him. "Different set of duties. The dancing was fun."

"You didn't lack for partners," commented Arthur, sitting down to tug off his boots.

"Yeah, that was odd," said Merlin, retrieving the clothes Arthur had dropped on the floor and flinging them into a laundry basket. "I actually think I had more ladies wanting to dance with me than you did."

"And you got to go walking with the Queen," said Arthur, looking at his servant pointedly.

Merlin picked up Arthur's boots and set them by the wardrobe. "She wanted some air."

"She must have talked to you," said Arthur speculatively, dropping his britches on the floor. "Did she ask you about me?"

Merlin shrugged. "Some general questions. Nothing more than is polite."

Irritably, Arthur said, "Well, she must have said something!"

Merlin stopped stock still and then looked at his Lord fully. "She said she wouldn't sign a treaty with Camelot."

"She said that?" asked Arthur, rising.

Merlin nodded. "Exactly that."

"Then what am I doing here?" demanded Arthur.

"I don't know," said Merlin mildly, his eyes unfocused as they did when he was thinking, but then he turned a penetrating gaze on Arthur. "She just patted my arm and told me not worry."

"She must have something in mind," said Arthur incredulously. "We should leave… at first light."

"Why?"

"Merlin! If Rhea never had any intention of signing a treaty with Camelot, then she's brought me here under false pretenses." Arthur's eyes ticked back and forth over the possibilities. "We probably shouldn't even stay tonight. Probably planning to murder me in my sleep."

"Arthur, you're safer here than you would be in Camelot."

"Told you that did she?" asked Arthur. "There are sorcerers here, Merlin."

"Yes, and some of them are protecting you," said Merlin.

"You believe that?" squawked Arthur.

"I know that," answered Merlin firmly. "Any sorcerer who goes for you here is going to go up like a Mayday bonfire." He cocked his head to one side. "Rhea sounds like she'd almost like for one to try it so she can show… you."

Arthur looked at his servant incredulously. "I can't believe that."

Merlin looked away a moment, clearly exasperated with his master. "Rhea believes you are the Once and Future King."

"Did she tell you that?" shouted Arthur.

"Yes!"

"She told you that?" asked Arthur, skeptically.

"Yes."

"You could have led with that, Merlin," said Arthur, shoving his legs into his pajamas angrily. He tied the strings, tangling them in his haste and fury. "So, what? I'm a mythical king, but she doesn't want anything to do with my future kingdom?"

"She doesn't want anything to do with your father, Arthur."

"How do I get around that?" squawked Arthur.

"I don't know, Arthur," said Merlin quietly. "I think Rhea has some idea but she wouldn't tell me. Best guess, you're not going to like it and neither is Uther."

"Well, that is so helpful, Merlin." Arthur threw his hands in the air. "You couldn't possibly come up with any more gems of insight, could you?"

Merlin glared at his Prince. "Rhea reveres you as her future King, Arthur."

Arthur grabbed a pillow off the bed and pounded it between his hands. "She just hates my Father." He pinned Merlin with a stare. "You don't think she'd try to get me to murder him, do you? Maybe try to enchant me to do it when she can't convince me?"

"I don't think so," said Merlin.

"Why not?" asked Arthur, twisting the pillow in his hands. "Sons have overthrown their fathers before."

"Arthur, listen to me," Merlin said intensely. "You are the Once and Future King, High King of Albion. As far as Rhea's concerned, going up against you would be like Uther's most minor lord declaring rebellion with only two knights and a handful of armsmen. She does not want you as an enemy. No, she has something else in mind."

Arthur huffed. "I suppose I should be grateful she doesn't have any marriageable daughters."

"Probably," said Merlin as Arthur crawled under the covers. Merlin put out one candle and picked up the other to take with him.

"Merlin," said Arthur. "Leave the connecting door open will you? I'm not quite as willing to rule out assassins as you are."

Merlin snorted in amusement. "Serving you? I never rule out the possibility of assassins."

Arthur threw a pillow at him as a matter of form, but he knew Merlin took his fears more seriously than he let on because he barred the door to the corridor before disappearing to his own bed.

Chapter Text

Sir Leon picked up his goblet and had a last swallow of mead as he watched the lords and ladies of the court trickle out. He wasn't the only one, he noticed. Sir Hector had gone back to the head table and was picking bits off a well gnawed drumstick. Leon heard his name called and looked around to find most of the Camelot knights near the doors. "I'll catch up," he called back.

He watched as Sir Hector called to one of the servants who was hovering, "Come now! Get your work done so you can off to your beds. Never mind an old knight." At this call, the servants fair attacked the tables to get them cleared.

Among the clatter, Sir Leon approached the older knight, who was far from old, but wouldn't be enjoying his prime much longer either. "A fine feast, Sir Hector," he said, raising his goblet in salute.

"Quite excellent," agreed the knight. "Are you still so spry you are not tired from all the dancing, Sir Leon?"

"Tired enough," said Leon. "Just not quite ready to settle yet."

"Ah, sit and have a cup with me then," invited Sir Hector, dropping into a seat at the head table. "The servants can clean around us, if you're not too proud."

Leon took the seat next to him. "Proud enough to have earned my honors, not been born to them."

Hector liberated a pitcher from a passing servant and refilled Leon's goblet before his own. "Not a lord's son then. Good. Uther's too hoity-toity for my taste. I thought all of his knights had to be high-born."

Leon shrugged. "My father was a knight, his father before him. You have to get back to my great-greats to find lords."

Hector snorted. "The curse of the younger son." Hector lifted his goblet. "May you earn all the honors possible in Camelot, Sir Leon."

They drank. Sir Leon decided it was his turn to toast and lifted his goblet. "To my King and your Queen."

Hector set down his goblet with a thump. "Nay. I'll not drink to Uther. To the Prince, if you wish, but not his thrice-damned father."

Leon lowered his goblet, sensing the opening he'd been hoping for. "The entire court of Ergyng seems to hate Uther with a passion."

"You're not wrong," agreed Hector guardedly.

Leon took a chance. Conspiratorially he suggested, "You know, Uther had Arthur and Merlin trade places because he feared Ergyng had only set up this visit to assassinate Arthur."

Hector actually chuckled. "Assassinate Arthur Pendragon? Never. Now had Uther arrived in his stead, you'd be crowning a new king and all of Ergyng would dance."

Leon set down his goblet. "That's what confuses me. You hate Uther, but seem to adore Arthur. I can't figure out what Ergyng wants."

Hector's eyebrows rose into his hair. "I would have thought that would be obvious. We want Emrys."

"Emrys?" asked Leon, shocked. "You want Merlin?"

Hector nodded and quaffed a drink. "Lord Emrys has no lands. We can fix that. And Rhea may not have any daughters out of the nursery, but I do, and she'd be glad enough if he'd say boo to her."

Thunderstruck, Leon asked, "You want to make Arthur's manservant a lord and marry him to your daughter?"

Hector waved Leon's shock away. "Emrys is already a lord. There's no doubt of that. But a man protects where he has those he loves. An estate here, perhaps a couple of children…."

"Hostages," said Leon, trying to make sense out of what the other knight said.

"You wound me, Sir Leon," said Sir Hector, red anger flashing in his cheeks. "Have I suggested anything against your honor? We would offer Lord Emrys resources, a place of his own, even a connection with the throne. Nephew to the Queen is hardly a poor offering. But even if he should refuse my daughter's hand, we would still have Emrys as a Lord of Ergyng. This way his knights will be ready to ride at the High King's need."

"The High King?" asked Leon, still stunned.

Hector inclined his head toward the other knight. "But then you Camelotians don't believe in prophecy, do you?"

"No," said Leon. "Seers are just another form of sorcerer."

Hector tutted at him. "Cutting yourselves off from the future. How can you be ready to face it?"

"By being ready for anything," Leon told him firmly.

Hector snorted. "More of Uther's ignorance." He leaned toward Sir Leon. "But we know what's coming and how to back the winning side. No, we'll have nothing of Uther, but we would make ourselves the High King's allies and I can think of no better way to prove our loyalty than to see Lord Emrys well supplied."

"I see," said Leon, still trying to wrap his head around the knight's madness.

"Ah, lad," said Hector, grasping Leon's biceps and pulling him to his feet. "Sleep on what I've said. Sleep and dream. Let the visions come. Ergyng is not Camelot. You've nothing to fear here from thinking a thought your tyrant king never would."

Leon pulled away from the large knight. "I thank you for your instruction, Sir Hector. I will think on all you've told me." It was all Leon could do to stride out of the room and not run.

Chapter Text

Sir Leon hesitated before he knocked on the Prince's door. One of the Ergynian servants opened the door and Leon automatically looked past him to where Arthur and Merlin were seated having breakfast. Arthur beckoned the knight as soon as he saw him, "Ah, Sir Leon, come, join us."

The small square table the two were seated at had only two chairs. Merlin started to rise to make way for the knight but the dark haired servant beside him touched his shoulder and murmured, "I'll get another, my Lord."

"Thank you, Sire. I've already eaten in the knight's hall," said Sir Leon, ignoring the servant. "May I speak to you privately, Arthur?" Again, Merlin made to rise, but Leon glared at him and said dryly, "I meant without the servants, I'm afraid this concerns Lord Emrys."

"Of course," agreed Arthur, slightly bemused. Merlin curled in on himself, finishing his breakfast quickly and trying not to be noticed.

Leon noticed that the lighter haired servant headed for the door at Arthur's indication, but the other waited for Merlin's dismissal. "You look well rested, Sire," said Leon, just for something to say while the servants cleared out.

"Nothing of it," said Arthur absently. "Merlin snored all night." Arthur stiffened and glared past Leon's shoulder, just before the door clicked closed.

"Problem?" asked the knight.

Arthur snorted, "That servant Rhea assigned me seems convinced Merlin and I are… more than friends. It's annoying."

The knight nodded and seated himself in the chair the servant had brought. "The Ergynings seem to think a lot of things about Merlin. I'm beginning to wonder if we've landed in the madhouse."

Arthur sipped at his goblet. "You aren't the only one."

Leon folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. "They mean what they say about Merlin being a lord."

"I've noticed," said Arthur, glancing toward the door the servants had exited through.

"No, I mean they actually want to make him a lord. I spoke to Sir Hector last night. He was talking about marrying Merlin off to his daughter."

"What?" squawked Merlin, pulling his back straight, his eyes widening at Sir Leon before turning his glare on the Prince. "Arthur, you are not sacrificing me to an arranged marriage!"

Arthur chuckled at the suggestion, "Leon, are you sure he wasn't having you on?"

"He was deadly serious Arthur. I flat out asked what Ergyng hoped to get out of this visit and he told me he thought it would be obvious they wanted Merlin."

"Did he tell you why?" asked Arthur, considering his knight's words carefully.

Leon shook his head in confusion. "Something about a prophecy and that then Emrys' knights would be ready to ride when the High King needed them. It didn't make much sense."

Arthur's cheeks paled with high points of color in them. "They really believe that nonsense?"

"Apparently," said Leon, realizing the Prince knew something about the matter he didn't. "But who's this High King?"

Arthur groaned and lowered his face into his hands. Then he raised one hand and waved it. "Me, apparently. Please don't tell my Father."

"You're the High King?" asked Leon. "Of what?"

"Albion," said Merlin, staring at Arthur.

"So… this is Rhea's way of pledging her loyalty while avoiding entanglements with Uther?" asked Leon, perplexed.

"Evidently," said Arthur exasperatedly, sitting back in his chair. "Though how that's supposed to work, I've no idea."

"Madness," muttered Leon.

"Maybe not," grated Arthur. "Rhea is trying to buy influence in my future court. She obviously has competent spies, at least enough to know the realities of Camelot's court. Merlin has been my trusted servant for years and he's been Gaius' apprentice for the same amount of time. It's not out of the question, and I can't believe I'm saying this, that Merlin could someday be my court physician."

"I could?" asked Merlin, surprised.

Arthur ignored him. "That would put Merlin on my council. I'm sure you've noticed how much influence Gaius wields with my Father. Could you imagine if he were a lord?"

Leon was nodding now. "He'd be one of the most powerful men in Camelot, probably second only to the King."

"Quite likely," agreed Arthur.

Thoughtfully, Leon said, "So Rhea intends to control the second most powerful man in Camelot by placing him in that position."

Arthur fanned his hand through the air. "It's not the least likely plan I've ever heard."

"Do I get a say in this?" demanded Merlin.

"Sure," said Arthur, leaning back in his chair. Belligerently, he asked, "Just what is your role in this prophecy, Emrys? You never have said. Don't think I didn't notice you sidestepping that issue with none of your usual clumsiness." Merlin's eyes slid away from him and unfocused. "The truth, Merlin!" barked Arthur.

Merlin looked at Arthur with a hang-dog expression. "Your… chief advisor."

"Chief advisor," repeated Arthur. "You're not very convincing, Merlin. And I still think Queen Rhea thinks we're sharing a bed."

Leon looked at Arthur with a half raised eyebrow. "So do half your knights."

Merlin and Arthur both squawked in protest.

"For the record," Arthur said regally, "I like girls."

"So do I," agreed Merlin quickly.

Leon tried to keep his grin in check. "Which doesn't mean you can't also like each other."

"It's not like that," protested Arthur.

"Never has been," Merlin shot out.

Leon shrugged. "That will be a disappointment to several knights I know who've bet otherwise."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I am well aware that my love life is considered fair game for conjecture, but I would never take advantage of my servant like that. And if I find out that any of my knights ever do such a thing, that knight will be needing some of Gaius' smellier ointments after their next practice bout with me."

Leon looked contrite. "No one has suggested you'd ever force yourself on anyone, Arthur. It's just that the two of you so often act like a married couple."

Arthur narrowed his eyes at his knight. "I would hope I would treat my wife better than I treat Merlin."

"Thank you!" said Merlin. "Finally he admits…"

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur interrupted him.

"Lord Emrys," corrected Leon.

"Merlin is not a lord," Arthur reminded him.

"Tell that to the Ergynings," said Leon.

Arthur gave Leon a slight smile. "And if I let you sit in on the negotiations this morning, are you going to let Merlin sit above you?"

"Yes," said Leon flatly. "Since you had already decided Merlin should sit at the proceedings, knowing that Queen Rhea regards him as a lord."

"You don't have to be so smug about it," said Arthur, quaffing a last swallow from his goblet.

A knock sounded at the door. "My lords," came Mark's voice, "the Queen sends word that she is ready to receive Prince Arthur and Lord Emrys."

Leon grinned at Arthur but kept his lips tightly closed.

Chapter Text

"I object! Most strenuously, my Queen," came a man's voice from within, just as the armsman opened the council chamber door for Arthur to enter. The Prince was surprised to find quite so many people within. Besides the Queen and Sir Hector, five more men occupied the space. Arthur hoped they were from a previous audience, but was glad he'd brought Sir Leon with him to even out the numbers in case they weren't.

"But you always object, my dear Sir Cyndav," replied the Queen sweetly. "And yet, I am still the Queen." Seeing Arthur arrive, Rhea held out her hand in greeting. "Prince Arthur, I hope you slept well."

Arthur bowed over her hand. "Quite well, Highness. I'm not much used to dancing, but I have to admit, my head's clearer than it might be after a night of drinking and conversation."

The Queen chuckled. "Well then, perhaps I should have refrained, but I was so pleased to see you enjoying yourself." She offered her hand to Merlin and as he unbent from his bow, she pulled him up beside her. "Lord Emrys, may I introduce Sir Rodri, Sir Cyndav, Sir Hodni, Sir Wallach, and Sir Vrennin?"

Arthur was pleased that Merlin remembered to merely incline his head when the knights bowed as befitted his assumed rank. He wondered how much he'd have to train out of him when he got him back to Camelot and how much trouble it would cause before he could.

"Sir Rodri will be joining us for the negotiations," explained the Queen. "The rest of the gentlemen may be excused."

Sir Cyndav, an older knight with gray running through his brown hair, stopped directly in front of Merlin and snorted on the way out. Sir Rodri was even older, his wavy hair the color of steel and his face weathered with the lines of age. He walked with a slight limp that might well have excused him from combat even if his age had not, to place a leather bound folio protecting a sheaf of papers on the conference table. Servants pulled out chairs for the three Ergynians, but the gentlemen remained standing, waiting for the Camelotians, even as the Queen seated herself at the head of the table.

"I hope you've no objection, Highness," said Arthur politely, "I asked Sir Leon to join the proceedings as I value his council."

"None at all, Prince Arthur," agreed the Queen affably. "This way the table will be even." Arthur took the seat at the Queen's right hand, while Merlin settled on his other side and Leon just beyond. When everyone was settled and servants had poured a fruit scented concoction for each of the participants, the Queen began. "I believe I've found a way to satisfy your needs without involving Uther." Rhea pronounced the King's name with distaste.

"I'm sorry?" said Arthur. "While my Father has given me the authority to negotiate a trade treaty between Ergyng and Camelot, it cannot be enacted without his approval."

The Queen smiled at him tolerantly. "But I will not negotiate any treaty between Ergyng and Camelot while Uther sits on the throne. I negotiate with you, Arthur Pendragon. I had specifically in mind an agreement between you, as Lord Lloegyr, and Lord Emrys."

"Between me… and Merlin," repeated Arthur slowly, stunned beyond comprehension.

"Exactly," said the Queen as though the Prince had understood. "I mean to settle the domain formerly held by Lord Morvryn, who died without heir several months ago, on Lord Emrys. This would include the estate of Wilusa, the town of Noent, several small villages, and two working iron mines; one close to played out, but I believe the holdings would be able to provide most of Camelot's need. Sir Rodri was Lord Morvryn's steward for many years and he has the appropriate figures."

Rodri took some papers from his folio and handed them to Merlin deferentially. "Lord Emrys." Merlin accepted them with a shaking hand, equally as shocked as Arthur.

Astonished, Arthur asked, "And this would be in lieu of a… dowry?"

Now Rhea looked surprised. She sent an admonishing glare at her brother. "Hector." The knight looked somewhat sheepish. She composed herself and turned back to Arthur. "I apologize if my brother gave any indication that such a settlement might be dependent on an alliance marriage. I myself believe that marriage should at least somewhat be based on a mutual liking, not just what is politically expedient. Of course, Hector's daughter, Rosemond, is a lovely girl and I would certainly give my blessing if Lord Emrys was so inclined as to court her."

At this point, Merlin made a high pitched noise that could be passed off as hiccup, but Arthur was more concerned might develop into a scream of terror. He pressed the toe of Merlin's boot with his own in warning.

Rhea ignored the sound and continued, "But any dowry would be completely separate from the settlement under discussion." Rhea settled back in her chair as though she'd explained everything quite thoroughly.

Arthur leaned forward, his hands folded on the table, trying to make sense of what Rhea had just said. "The other knights in the room when we came in… they were knights of this Lord Morvryn's holdings?"

"Yes, that's correct," said Rhea, looking at the Prince as though he was a schoolboy finally understanding his lessons.

"And they would become… Merlin's knights?" asked Arthur.

"Exactly," said Rhea, "although I'm afraid Lord Emrys may have some trouble with Cyndav. Lord Morvryn's death has been anticipated for several years now, he was quite old. As you can imagine there are a number of hopefuls to fill the vacancy, including Cyndav. Though how he could think he would be raised to the lordship, I can't imagine. He has served as sheriff at Noent for several years now, but he also made the mistake of suggesting my husband set me aside for a greater alliance marriage when we ascended to the throne. He's not a favorite."

Right," said Arthur still stunned. "But you want Merlin to remain in Ergyng and fill the position?"

Rhea laughed, "Oh, my, no."

"Of course not," Arthur laughed along with her and the other men at the table managed chuckles as well.

"Lord Emrys must return to Camelot with you, of course," the Queen assured him. "Sir Rodri is a quite competent steward and the distance not so great that Emrys cannot manage his holdings. Reports could be sent easily enough. A visit to the estate on your way home might be well worth the trouble, but Morvryn took a long time dying and Rodri's been managing the holdings for years anyway."

Arthur looked at her like she'd grown another head. "I can't imagine my Father putting up with a Lord of Ergyng in his court or acknowledging any man born a peasant as a lord. I think he'd be more likely to execute Merlin for presumption."

Rhea shrugged. "Then don't tell him."

Arthur leaned forward, his chin in his hand. "Just don't tell him? Just have your Lord Emrys keep acting as my manservant?"

"If that seems best to you," said Rhea.

Arthur sat back with his hands in the air. "No, it bloody well doesn't seem best to me!" he squawked. "I can't lie to my Father."

Rhea regarded him impassively. "I believe I've made you a fair offer, Prince Arthur. I've offered you control of the resource you seek, without giving up my rights to any of my lands or asking you for any oath that would be counter to your oaths to Camelot. I have here the oath I would require of Lord Emrys." At this she gestured at Sir Rodri, who passed Arthur another piece of parchment. "As you can see it is a standard oath of fealty to the throne of Ergyng with the caveat that acknowledges his first loyalty to you personally, not to Camelot, but to you, Arthur Pendragon, Lord of Lloegyr."

Merlin made a sour face as he read the oath past Arthur's arm. "She's having you put me in your will."

Rhea looked at him serenely. "Lord Emrys will always have a home with us in Ergyng. We would, of course, both have to accept Lord Emrys' oaths, which would be best done in a private ceremony."

Arthur scrubbed at his face thoughtfully, his eyes blown wide. "I don't know. I've never heard of anything like this."

"Innovation is not a curse word, your Highness," smiled Rhea.

"Why Merlin?" demanded Arthur. "Why not one of my knights? Sir Leon's a good sort."

"Because Merlin is Emrys," said Rhea gently, as though soothing a small child, "and Emrys is a High Lord no matter what mother bore him."

Merlin muttered, "So now she insults my mother?"

Rhea leaned across the table to cover his hand with her own. "Your mother would be honored in Ergyng for being your mother, no matter what she wore or what her station appeared to be. Send her to Wilusa and she will be the Lady of the manor and have everything her own way."

Sir Rodri nodded. "I would personally ensure her safety, my Lord. My life's blood would run before I would allow her to take the smallest hurt."

Arthur looked at the earnestness of the Ergynings. They truly believed; believed in the prophecy, believed in Merlin's Lordship, even believed in him as the High King. They might be mad, but they were sincere in their madness. "If I agreed to this," Arthur asked, despite his clenched jaw, "how would it work?"

Rhea folded her hands in front of her. Primly she answered him, "I would merely give Lord Emrys permission to enter into an agreement with you to supply Camelot with iron. The form of the agreement would be up to you. Emrys can sell you iron directly from his own mines, or act as your agent within Ergyng to secure supplementary supplies from other mines, or he could even attempt to recruit miners to return to Camelot to reopen the closed tunnels at the Ridge of Chemary."

"Chemary is nearly played out," said Arthur, surprised to have the Camelot mine brought up. "Production there dropped nearly a generation ago and never recovered. The veins have run out."

Rhea blinked in shock and shared a glance with Sir Rodri. Gently she said, "The veins have not run out, Arthur."

"I assure you they have," said Arthur stiffly.

Rhea looked at him thoughtfully over the rim of her goblet before wetting her mouth. "What has run out is Camelot's supply of skilled miners."

Once again, Arthur felt as though he'd lost the thread of the conversation. "I'm sorry, what?"

"The miners, Arthur," repeated Rhea. "You can only do so much with strong backs. Just as you can't build a proper keep without stone masons, or forge the sharpest swords without trained smiths, you can hardly mine effectively without skilled miners."

Arthur stiffened. With patriotic pride, he said, "I'm sure Camelot's miners are excellent."

Rhea favored him with a knowing smile. "Perhaps the ones that are left. I couldn't judge. If I needed to, I'd ask the miners that relocated to Ergying during Uther's purge."

Arthur felt a tight knot begin in the pit of his stomach. "My Father purged sorcerers, not miners."

Rhea shrugged. "Skilled craftspeople often have little rituals that can look like magic to the uninitiated."

Arthur clenched his teeth. "I know that. My Father taught me that."

"I'm relieved to know he's finally learned that lesson," said Rhea mildly but Arthur could hear the challenge in her voice.

The Prince pulled out his best diplomatic manner. "I'm not here to discuss Camelot's history, Highness."

The Queen smiled thoughtfully. "Of course not. You have my offer. Perhaps it would be best if you retired to consider the matter. We could meet again this afternoon."

"You are very gracious, your Highness," said Arthur, trying to hide his tension as he stood and bowed to the Queen. The rest of the men at the table rose as well. Merlin and Leon both bowed before following Arthur out.

By the time they reached his chamber, Arthur was fuming. Barrelling through the door he snapped, "Out!" at the two servants making up his bed. The two immediately left their work, though Devon paused to bow to Merlin on his way out.

The door had barely closed behind them before Sir Leon started to laugh. It started as a low chuckle and built into a hearty roar.

Hands on his hips, Arthur stared at his normally serious knight in perplexity. Catching sight of his Prince's disapproval, Leon sobered but mirth still danced in his eyes. "Who do they think they're fooling? They must truly fear Camelot's army to gift you lands like that."

"They're gifting them to Merlin, not to me," complained Arthur.

Leon blew a puff of disbelief. "That's a blind, Arthur. They can't give them to you directly without ceding a good portion of Ergyng to Camelot, so they give them to Merlin. And he can manage his estates from a distance? You'll manage those estates more than Merlin ever will and they know it."

Arthur glanced at his servant uncomfortably. "If I allow them to go through with the investiture, then those lands are Merlin's to do with as he pleases."

Leon looked heavenward. "And if something happened to you, God forbid, I wouldn't bet a wooden coin on Merlin's chances of claiming them for himself. The oath she wants him to take proves it. An acknowledgement that Merlin's loyalty to you is higher than to her? That's no oath any King I know would accept. No, she's giving those lands to you, Arthur."

Arthur stared at him in disbelief. "What about her insults to our King?"

"They've been insulting Uther since we got here," said Leon wryly. "No one in the court has made any bones about hating our King."

"But her accusations…." protested Arthur.

Leon looked uncomfortable. "Could be true, Arthur. Look, I'm old enough to remember the purge and… there were a lot of people taken; women, children, people who went to the flames screaming their innocence." The knight shuddered at the memory.

Arthur raised his chin defiantly. "But not a bunch of innocent miners. My Father wouldn't have just destroyed an entire village or encampment."

"A village is like a family, Arthur," said Merlin. "It's not like the city. Just about everybody is related to everybody else, one way or another. Even if it were only one or two people they were protecting, yeah, it's possible most of a village might have rallied around them."

"And they all would have decamped? Fled here?" asked Arthur sharply.

Merlin shrugged. "It would have made sense for miners to flee to somewhere where there were mines so they could get work."

Arthur paced across the floor. "They wouldn't have needed to flee if they weren't guilty."

"Don't they deserve a trial before you pronounce them guilty?" asked Merlin, his own ire beginning to show.

Arthur looked from his servant to his knight and back again. "They're on the lands Rhea wants to gift to you."

"Yes," said Merlin. A simple response, but Arthur could hear the challenge in it.

Arthur turned away and leaned on the window casement. "And they're not breaking any laws on this side of the border, even if every one of them is a sorcerer."

"That's unlikely," said Merlin quickly. "Very few people have the ability to use magic, no matter how much they may want it."

"He's right," agreed Leon. "Even King Uther accepts that fact. Queen Rhea could be correct. It may have been a misunderstanding."

"Or," said Arthur, turning back around and sitting on the window ledge, "it may never have happened at all."

Leon drew himself up to his full height. "If I might suggest, Highness, I'd be more concerned for the present and the future than the past."

"The past informs the present," said Arthur, sighing. The Prince took a moment to consider before nodding positively. "Merlin, I trust you as much as I trust any man. You've offered up your life for mine on more than one occasion. Really, how you've managed to stay alive, I don't know." He turned and pierced his servant with his stare. "Do you want to be a lord?"

Merlin grimaced. "Not really, no."

"No?" asked Arthur incredulous.

Merlin shook his head side to side slowly, his lips pressed together tightly. "I'm happy to be your servant until the day I die."

"You'd be rich," teased Arthur.

Merlin kept shaking his head. "Don't really fancy it. Nobody I know who's rich is really happy."

"I'm happy," said Arthur.

"Rarely," opined Merlin.

Arthur's eyes flashed with annoyance. "Maybe I should try to talk Rhea into one of the knights instead."

"Won't work, Sire," said Sir Leon. "We've all taken oaths to Camelot. Merlin's the only one who hasn't."

"And Father wouldn't accept his oath if he offered it," pouted Arthur. "I suppose it does make a twisted convoluted sort of sense. So you think I should go through with it?"

Leon shrugged. "They're certainly asking little enough. A representative on your council, who's sworn his loyalty to you over Ergyng, when you're King? Someone's sowing the field early."

Arthur looked over at Merlin, a bad feeling curdling his lip. "This is a ploy to legalize sorcery in Camelot under my rule, isn't it?"

Merlin stepped toward his lord. "It's certainly going to be on their agenda."

"And would you be willing to go along with it?" asked Arthur.

Merlin thought a moment before answering. "I've never seen the good in drowning children or hunting down druids who've caused no harm. I could be convinced that Camelot's laws on sorcery could be… softened."

"Softened," snorted Arthur. "Magic is evil, Merlin."

"What if it's not?" asked Merlin curiously.

Arthur looked out the window again. "Then everything I've been taught is wrong."

Merlin stepped forward and lay a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Not everything."

Arthur glanced at Merlin's hand and then at his eyes. "I might just as well make you a lord, you never have understood you're a servant. If nothing else, I won't have to pay you anymore."

Merlin put his hands on his hips defiantly. "What do you mean you won't have to pay me anymore?"

Arthur grinned pompously. "You'll have your own money. And serving the heir to the throne is an honor."

"And it's an honor to stand in the stocks for you every time I have to cover for you with your father?" asked Merlin, a hair's breath away from stamping his feet like an overwrought toddler.

"Yes, that too," Arthur teased him.

Leon coughed lightly. "If you go through with this, Arthur, you might want to consider getting a second servant, to give Merlin more time for his studies with Gaius. If you make him a lord and put him on your council, he should at least have something to contribute."

"One thing at a time, Leon," said Arthur. He rubbed his temple as though it ached. Determination lit his eyes. "All right, let's go through this one more time."

Chapter Text

"Prince Arthur," exclaimed Queen Rhea jovially, just as though he were a long lost friend and she hadn't seen him in this very room only two hours before. Again Merlin's knights (Arthur couldn't believe he already thought of them as MERLIN's knights) were milling around the room, smiling as though in anticipation of winning a tournament. Even Sir Cyndav had managed to plaster on a polite stretch of his lips. The Queen attached herself to Arthur's arm, her eyes shining up at his as she asked, "Have you decided to accept my proposal?"

Arthur carefully hid his inward flinch at her choice of words. "Almost, Highness. Your offer is most generous. I just want to be sure I've understood you completely and that there are no further caveats to your offer."

The Queen's lips thinned into a pout. "I can think of nothing I've left out."

Arthur knew he was treading on thin ice. One did not accuse a monarch of attempted trickery in her own Court. "My apologies, your Highness. It's just that I wasn't expecting such a generous offer. Perhaps it's merely my Father's skepticism rubbing off on me, but he's taught me to be wary of offers that simply seem too good to be true."

"Oh," laughed Rhea, beginning to walk forward and leading Arthur in a little circle. "You can't see what we gain?" she asked mischievously as she hooked Merlin with her unoccupied arm. Arthur could feel the strength she exerted to drag his servant along with them. He hadn't realized she was so strong despite the fact she was nearly as tall as he was. Arthur could hear the muffled chuckling of the assembled knights when Merlin gave an undignified squawk before settling in to walk with the royals around the room.

"Well, the profits of the lead, of course," said Arthur, that bad feeling starting in the pit of his stomach again.

Rhea brushed his words aside. "Oh, we could sell that anywhere. There's always a market for weapon grade ores and we have plenty of trading partners."

"I'm… sure." agreed Arthur, knowing what she said was true.

"Hector," said the Queen, "is that druidic bard you liked so well still in the area? Perhaps we should have her perform for this evening's entertainment. If Arthur heard the prophecies…"

"No," Arthur interrupted, knowing it wasn't wise to interrupt a monarch and vividly imagining what his Father's reaction would be if a visiting Prince so dared. He smiled at the Queen winningly. "That certainly won't be necessary, Highness."

She smiled back, cunning in her eyes. "Oh, Prince Arthur, I understand such an entertainment would never be allowed in King Uther's court. But after all, you are at our disposal at this moment. Some of the sagas are so beautiful and it would help you better understand the future I am committed to."

Arthur peered over her head at Merlin's pale face. Of course, Merlin could take fright at the passing of a bunny rabbit in the underbrush, but if his instincts matched with Arthur's, the Prince was inclined to accept the reinforcement. "As you say, such lays would be banned in Camelot, anywhere in Camelot, not just the court. I fear my men would be uncomfortable having to listen to them."

"Perhaps a more private audience?" offered the Queen, nodding in Sir Leon's direction. "Surely your men understand the need for a future monarch to understand everything possible about his neighbors and future allies?"

Arthur caught the very slight shake of Sir Leon's head. "I'm certain I couldn't put you to the trouble, Highness. I can't think that sagas based on prophesy about Merlin's exploits could hold my attention. I know the man too well to think the druids might somehow know him better."

Rhea pursed her lips. "You can hardly blame me for withholding information if you refuse to hear it, Prince Arthur."

Arthur grit his teeth. "The fault would seem to be my own."

The Queen smiled like a child with a mouthful of illicit sweets and shrugged her shoulders, pulling Merlin more tightly to her side. "You needn't fear our intentions, Prince Arthur. We seek only to back one of your most ardent supporters. How can there be harm in that?"

Arthur wasn't sure, but he also wasn't stupid. The Queen clearly intended to have Merlin for herself in some way. It wouldn't come today, nor probably next year, but eventually, Merlin would be a key the Queen would try to turn. And while the Prince was certain Merlin couldn't be persuaded against him, if magic became involved…. he feared to lose the truest friend he had. But then again, if the Queen meant to use magic, she could do that whether he agreed to let Merlin become a Lord of Ergyng or not. "It's clear you're a master diplomatist, Highness. I can't quite see where you're going with this, but I warn you, I didn't used to beat Father at chess either. Now I do."

Rhea laughed gleefully. "It is difficult to develop in any sport without adequate competition. May the competition between us always be as friendly as any between your own knights. Have I then your blessing?"

Arthur looked over the top of her head at Merlin, whose lips had thinned to a determined line. "Merlin is stronger than he looks, Highness, and twice as obstinate. If you're determined to make him a lord, don't blame me when you can't shift him."

"Excellent!" cried Rhea, releasing her hold on Merlin. "I thought you'd agree. Shall we leave Lord Emrys to discuss the state of his holdings with his knights? I know that Sir Rodri has a rough draft of the trade agreement you wanted drawn up for his approval. We can have the formal investiture ceremony in the morning. I always think dawn a most appropriate time for beginnings. It's no more than a winter day's ride to Wilusa. The days are long enough now that if you started by mid-morning, you could be at Lord Emrys' keep well before sundown."

Thinking about what Leon had said earlier, Arthur suggested slowly, "Perhaps, I should stay with Merlin for that discussion."

"Nonsense," said the Queen. "You've just said that Lord Emrys is well able to manage me, I shouldn't think his own knights would prove too difficult. Besides, I had an entertainment planned for you, if you don't think a tour of our defenses would prove too strenuous."

Arthur's eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise. "That's… extremely generous, Queen Rhea. I wouldn't have thought that you'd want…" his voice trailed off.

Rhea patted his arm. "I intend for us to be the closest of allies once you are crowned, Arthur. There is nothing you cannot know about Ergyng, if you wish it."

"Truly?" asked Arthur, still stunned.

"I shall prove it," said the Queen, leading the Prince out of the council chamber. Sir Hector swept Sir Leon out with them, then turned and closed the door, leaving an astonished Merlin alone with his knights.

Merlin turned around slowly, expecting the knights might be a bit more hostile now that their Queen had left the room, but only Cyndav had lost his pleased expression.

Sir Rodri patted the back of the chair at the head of the table. "Please, my Lord."

Merlin seated himself cautiously in the chair the Queen had occupied during the morning meeting. Sir Rodri took the seat at Merlin's right hand and Sir Cyndav at his left. The other knights found places and Sir Rodri flipped open his leather bound folio again. Devon brought each of them a goblet and poured for Merlin first.

Sir Rodri folded his hands in front of him and said to Merlin, "May I say, my Lord Emrys, how pleased we are at your ascension and that we all look forward to serving you for many years to come."

Sir Cyndav snorted softly. "I personally hope you will not be in any great hurry to make changes which might be inadvisable."

"Some things need to be seen to, Cyndav," chided Rodri gently. Turning his attention smoothly back to Merlin he continued, "For instance, Sir Vrennin has not yet been confirmed in his holdings, his father having passed only a few days after Lord Morvryn. The relevant documents are already drawn up and only await your signature back at Wilusa, that is if you accept my recommendation that Sir Vrennin is well able to manage the property."

Sir Vrennin, a knight about Arthur's age with longish brown hair and light green eyes, had sat up straighter at the mention of his name. "The crops are well in the fields, my Lord, and the livestock well cared for. One of the cows even had live twins."

Cyndav glared at the young knight's exuberance, and Merlin felt he had to say something. "That would have been considered a good omen where I come from, Sir Vrennin."

"Here as well, my Lord," Sir Vrennin assured him happily.

"My name is Merlin," he said uncomfortably, "and I'm not a lord yet, so there's really no need for you to address me as such."

"Of course you're a lord," said Sir Wallach, who's long dark hair and beard hid nearly all of his face except his bright blue eyes. "Lord of Magic."

Merlin shook his head tightly. "Magic is illegal in Camelot."

"Well, it's not illegal here," said Sir Wallach. He rapped out a quick spell and the pitcher Devon had poured out of earlier floated from the sideboard to the table. Sir Wallach's face shone with perspiration from the effort and the pitcher wobbled dangerously as it landed. As the glow faded from the knight's eyes, he let out a breath of relief.

"You're a knight and a sorcerer?" asked Merlin, astonished.

"More knight than sorcerer, I'm afraid," admitted Wallach. "It's difficult to train in two disciplines. I'm excited to take my oath for you, Lord Emrys, but I'm afraid I'll be of little use until Prince Arthur comes into his kingdom. I'd not want to chance crossing Camelot's border - without your express order, of course."

"No," said Merlin. "You shouldn't come to Camelot. You'd be taken in an instant."

"There are other ways I can help, though," said Wallach, rising and opening a window. He whistled and almost instantly a peregrine falcon landed on his brace. Merlin had seen the telltale flash of gold in his eyes that showed Wallach had put some power behind that call. "There," said Wallach, bringing the bird over for Merlin's inspection. Merlin, for his part, watched the bird's sharp beak with some trepidation. Wallach lifted the falcon to a more comfortable distance. "These beauties are better than any carrier pigeon for bringing messages when you've a spell to guide them to the right person. But perhaps you'd prefer your namesake? We have merlins as well at Wilusa."

"Falconry is Wallach's true passion," said Sir Hodni, a clean shaven blond with wavy hair. "But you shouldn't let your passion endanger your master, Wallach. Lord Emrys can hardly carry magical talismans back with him into Camelot."

Wallach snorted in annoyance. "I think Lord Emrys has long since learned how to hide what he needs to to still be alive, Hodni. I am quite willing to accept his judgement as to what is and is not worth the risk."

"Indeed," said Sir Cyndav smoothly. "You must tell us something of your adventures, Lord Emrys, out of Prince Arthur's hearing, of course. I assure you of a receptive audience here."

Merlin tensed and squeezed the arms of his chair. "I don't know what you're talking about. All of my adventures have been as a result of following Prince Arthur."

A smattering of laughter resounded around the table. "I meant, of course, your use of magic in keeping his royal Highness safe," said Sir Cyndav.

"Prince Arthur is very good at keeping himself safe," said Merlin with every ounce of conviction he could muster.

"Even from magical assaults?" asked Cyndav slyly.

"Somehow he always manages to survive," said Merlin lightly, affecting a dopey expression.

Cyndav opened his mouth to bait him further but Wallach interrupted, "Enough, Cyndav. Lord Emrys has no reason to trust us yet. We've not even given him our oaths, and can't until he takes his own."

"If this is truly Lord Emrys," said Cyndav, giving Merlin a doubtful look, "and not some farmboy the druids have merely assigned their fantasies to."

Sir Hodni raised his goblet. "The one having fantasies around here is you, Cyndav. The Queen hates you. Be happy you still have your head. If you want to keep it, I suggest you quit trying to make her look the fool."

"Some proof is hardly out of order," insisted Cyndav belligerently, "before I go swearing my allegiance to a dirt farmer who's managed to raise himself to the position of menial in the castle of a madman."

That was one assertion Merlin knew he couldn't let go. If one of his knights started spreading the rumor that Merlin was not the great Emrys when everyone else here seemed to believe it, sooner or later someone was going to insist he prove it, most probably with threats against his own life or Arthur's. That would be inconvenient at best, but if those challenges followed him back to Camelot, they would also endanger his secret. Fortunately, Merlin knew something about pecking order. He straightened up and laid his palms flat on the table. "I haven't asked for this appointment, Sir Cyndav, the Queen insists on it. If you find you can't swear fealty to me you can always renounce your holdings and move on to other opportunities."

Hodni laughed. "I'm sure the Queen would be thrilled. She's probably already let Lord Emrys know she'd have no objections if he found some excuse to hang you."

Sir Cyndav turned beat-red. "I also know something about keeping one's head down when necessary." Turning to Merlin, he moderated his tone. "Sir Hodni is correct that the Queen and I do not see eye-to-eye. I will take what oaths she commands, but I prefer to have faith in my own judgements instead of a woman's sentimentality."

Sir Hodni leaned toward Merlin. "Sir Cyndav would be more direct if I weren't in the room. He thinks the Queen's head is stuffed with wool."

Sir Cyndav rose sharply and snapped, "Keep your aspersions to yourself! I'm sure you'd like to step into my place as Sheriff of Noent, but you'll not do it through gossip and innuendo. It takes a knight of experience and scholarship to helm a town's prosperity and you have neither!"

Sir Hodni's chair fell backward from the force he jumped out of it with. "A blowhard of a knight, you mean, who's best skill is strutting around like a barnyard cock!"

Merlin couldn't let the situation get more out of hand. He took a chance during the knight's distraction and held out his hand under the table, casting a spell with muttered breath and eyes lowered. The falcon on Sir Wallach's arm squawked alarm at the miniature whirlwind that appeared from under the table and danced about the floor.

Wallach drew in a sharp breath. "THAT is powerful magic."

"Did you conjure that?" demanded Cyndav of Merlin.

Merlin shrugged his shoulders, standing up to get a better view of the twister. "I don't know what you're talking about. Did you conjure it, Devon?"

Startled at being addressed, Devon snapped his eyes up from staring at the miniature whirlwind. "If Prince Arthur were in the room, my Lord, I would say I did, to protect your Lordship, but as he's not, I can admit that's well beyond my power."

"Banish it," commanded Merlin.

Devon's eyes bulged. "I wouldn't know how, my Lord."

"Try," suggested Merlin blandly, turning his gaze back to the whirlwind as it tore a narrow tapestry from the wall.

The knights stared as the servant raised a hand in the direction of the whirlwind and started to say something, but before he'd even gotten out the first syllable, the whirlwind dissipated as though it had never been.

"That is power," said Sir Wallach, "and how one hides it."

Sir Cyndav looked sharply at Merlin, who kept his eyes averted like a servant. Slowly, Merlin straightened to his full height and met the knight's stare fully. "I don't claim to be Emrys. I never wanted to be Emrys and I don't want to be a lord. I'm sick of being the pawn of destiny but bad things happen every time I fight it. Believe in me or don't, Sir Cyndav. Ultimately, your belief or lack of it won't make a bit of difference in Albion's rising."

Cyndav's lips twitched uncomfortably. He bowed his head slowly. Deferentially, he said, "My Lord."

"Well, if that's settled," said Sir Rodri, "I have the rough draft of the trade agreement Prince Arthur is asking for ready for Lord Emrys' perusal, but there is an issue I simply have no idea how to deal with. Perhaps you'll have some thought, my Lord?"

"I'll try," agreed Merlin affably, slumping into his usual posture and taking the paper Sir Rodri held out as he retook his seat.

Chapter Text

Merlin shook hands with each of his knights as the meeting broke up, Cyndav more deferential than the others, but all happily talking about getting back to their own lands, except Hodni, who was posted to the court and asked Wallach to carry a letter home to his mother.

The knight affably agreed as he opened the door. "Highness!" said the bearded knight, startled. Wallach bowed, as did the other knights, making way for Prince Thaddeus to enter the room.

Thaddeus acknowledged the knights with a slight nod of his head as he walked through them, but had eyes only for Merlin. "My lord, may I speak to you privately?" asked the slight young man, his voice breaking on the last word, sending a flush through his cheeks and emphasizing his youth.

"Of course, Highness," agreed Merlin, flicking his eyes to his knights who emptied the space quickly, closing the door softly behind them.

Thaddeus' eyes found Devon and flicked to the door. The servant bowed as he passed the heir apparent, his passing only a whisper compared to the knights. Merlin waited quietly for the Prince to speak first.

"Emrys," said Prince Thaddeus wetting his lips. "I want you to know that if the mad king declares war, I will go along with my mother's plans. She will flee with the children, but I will stay behind. I understand. Prince Arthur could not defend our people, but King Arthur could."

"You'll assassinate King Uther?" asked Merlin coldly.

"What? No," said Thaddeus quickly. "I'll crown Arthur King of Ergyng in my place."

Merlin felt his eyes bug out of his head.

"Mother will send out the proclamation when she flees. I'll still be Lord Gorsley, and I'll serve Arthur fairly," rambled the Prince. "I hope it won't come to that. I'd like to be King of Ergyng, but Arthur will be High King someday anyway, so I'd still have to swear fealty to him, and maybe he'll return my kingdom to me then. Better that than a bloody slaughter we can't win against an opponent we don't want to lose."

Thaddeus picked up Merlin's hand and held it in both of his. "You must help us then, Emrys. Convince Arthur to be King and not bow to his father. Ergyng has taken in refugees from Camelot and its allies for decades that have swollen the magical population, so much so that the mad king would surely slaughter all. You have to act as their protector. It is the only way for my people to be safe."

Once again, Merlin felt the weight of destiny settle on his shoulders. "It won't come to that, Prince Thaddeus. Uther's allies won't support a war for resources and you've given him what he wants. There is no reason for Camelot to attack."

"For now," said the Prince. He released Merlin and walked toward the door, but he turned back sadly. "But who knows what is in the mind of a madman?"

Arthur burst into his chambers to find Merlin alone, sitting on the window seat, staring out at the courtyard.

"That was absolutely the most surreal inspection tour I've ever been on," said Arthur wildly. "The men treated me more like their commander than Sir Hector. I honestly think that if it came to war, I could stand on a hill and order Rhea's army to lay down their arms and they might do it!"

"And then Uther would order a purge you would be compelled to enforce, and they'd lose all faith in you," said Merlin bitterly, without looking at the Prince, which proved he'd heard Arthur, but didn't say much for his willingness to listen.

"Mer-lin," said Arthur, grabbing a chair and turning it so he could straddle it and lean over the back. "You're not hearing me. They answered every question; arms, armaments, number of men, where they're placed, emplacements of heavier weapons, everything!"

Merlin looked at him then, but his eyes held only exasperation. "Yes, Arthur, you are their King! Do you not understand?"

Arthur was taken aback. "But… I'm not."

Merlin threw up his hands then and getting to his feet started to pace and gesture wildly. "Their destined King, then. They believe! In you. In me." He threw himself to his knees in front of the Prince. "If you asked it of her, Rhea might even take her oath of fealty to you, today! And she would ask you for the protection of her people, magic and non-magic. And how would you respond?"

Arthur drew in on himself. In a small voice he said, "But magic is evil. Father…"

Merlin threw his fists down in frustration. "Which is why you're not ready to be their King yet. Daddy this, and Daddy that! You sound like a six-year-old!" Merlin got up and walked toward the connecting door between their rooms.

"I'm hardly that, Merlin," said Arthur defensively.

Merlin slammed the connecting door after him, leaving the Prince alone. Arthur waited a beat before deciding that didn't suit him. He strode after his servant only to find Merlin lying face up on his bed, his ankles crossed, cradled in the soft pillows. "I take it your meeting didn't go well?"

"My meeting went excellently well," answered Merlin bitingly. "I'm Emrys."

Arthur sat down on the bed beside him. "And what exactly does that mean?"

Merlin turned his head to look at his Prince. "You're the one always complaining about having a destiny. At least you were raised to it. I didn't know anything about destiny until I came to Camelot."

Arthur furrowed his brow in disbelief. "You met a druid in Camelot?"

"No," said Merlin lightly. "A dragon."

"What?"

Merlin closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "This is why I don't tell you things. You won't believe me anyway."

"I don't believe you because you lie to me," said Arthur irritably. "I know the dragon was held under the castle, I just can't believe you'd go down to it. Even you aren't that stupid, Merlin."

"Apparently, I am," muttered Merlin, rolling his eyes open.

Arthur just stared at his servant a moment. "I don't even want to know why you'd seek out the dragon."

"Maybe I just got lost," mumbled Merlin.

"And then stood around while the beast filled you up on druids' tales?"

"He's very persuasive," said Merlin cannily.

"Oh, he'd have to be," said Arthur, throwing his arms in the air in resignation. "That could be why the druids think you're Emrys. The dragon told them. He's loose now. He must have told them he'd found someone in the castle that would serve as their Emrys."

"One problem with that theory," said Merlin. "The druids started calling me Emrys before the dragon got loose."

"Well," faltered Arthur, "then maybe they had a way to visit the dragon while he was still imprisoned. Obviously there's an exit large enough for a dragon somewhere. He certainly didn't come up through the castle. They've probably been feeding the beast all this time. They may have set him free as well."

"Not likely," grated Merlin.

"You'd think the dragon was likely to land in the courtyard, for all your bad mood," said Arthur. "What's really eating you? The knights asked you for something, didn't they?"

"No, Prince Thaddeus did," said Merlin.

"The Prince is a child, Merlin," said Arthur reproachfully.

"And the future King of Ergyng," replied Merlin. "Very much the future king. I'd be willing to bet he thinks more about his people than you did yours at that age."

Arthur drew in an offended breath. "So what did he want?"

"He wanted me to convince you to protect his people from Uther, if it comes to it."

Arthur grimaced. "He does realize I'd be leading the opposing army?"

"Very much so," confirmed Merlin grimly. "They have a plan for that. It doesn't involve fighting."

"Magic?" asked Arthur, concerned.

"No," smirked Merlin, "politics. You think Uther's good at the game? I think he could take lessons from Rhea."

Arthur grimaced again. "I've certainly not been able to figure out her strategy."

"Simple really," said Merlin. "Pit you against your father."

"Won't happen," said Arthur firmly.

Merlin arched an eyebrow at him. "She's already got you half tangled and you can't get out of it without disappointing Uther and possibly instigating a war that she already knows how to turn against you."

"And my only option is to let her have you?" Arthur snorted. "She may be good at the game, but she hasn't any idea how to keep her eye on the prize."

Merlin just lay his head back and stared up at the canopy above him.

Arthur pounced, pinning his servant's arms against the featherbed. "No decent comeback, Merlin? You're slipping."

"My lords?" asked Devon. "We brought some refreshment?"

Arthur looked over his shoulder to see Devon standing in the connecting doorway, Mark smirking over his shoulder. Mark's hand on Devon's waist to lead the other man away told Arthur a great deal about where the servant's assumptions were coming from. Arthur jumped to his feet. "Of course. It was a long walk." As the servants disappeared into the other chamber, Arthur slapped Merlin on the thigh.

"Ow," complained Merlin.

"On your feet," said Arthur, a little too loudly. "No napping. We still have work to do."

"Yes, we do," said Merlin, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and smirking up at his master. "We still have to figure out what to do about the wagons."

"Wagons?" asked Arthur, bemused.

"Wagons," confirmed Merlin.

Chapter Text

Merlin's head still ached from the night before, despite the hangover remedy he'd convinced the court physician to allow him to mix from his supplies. Everyone had wanted to toast his health and he'd had to drink with them. So had Arthur. At least Merlin had been enough in his right mind to warn Devon to wake him and not the Prince in the morning. Both servants were waiting in the corridor with covered trays and pitchers when Merlin returned from the physician's quarters with Arthur's dose in his hand and went to set up the table while Merlin set the vial on the night table and opened the curtains.

"Rise and shine!" called Merlin, but his voice flinched on the last word.

"You're entirely too chipper in the morning, Merlin," growled Arthur without opening his eyes, despite the light trying to lance its way through his eyelids.

"Come on. Your dose is next to you," said Merlin.

"Why would I need.. Oh," said Arthur, sitting up inadvisably fast. "Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt. Not sure I want to drink a potion provided by Rhea's physician though."

"Mixed it myself this morning along with mine, Sire," Merlin assured him.

"Definitely dodgy then," complained Arthur, but he tipped the vial into his mouth. "Ugh. Tastes worse than Gaius'." He slipped out of bed to find something to wash the taste down. Knowing his manservant's tolerance for alcohol was definitely inferior to his own, he offered, "You needn't wait for me to dress, Merlin. Get some breakfast down. It will help."

"No thanks," answered Merlin, laying a hand on his stomach at the thought of food. "Not hungry."

Arthur took his manservant by the shoulders and squinted into his face. "You're looking awfully green around the gills. You'll need to learn to hold your liquor better now you're to be a lord. Come on, just some of the bread if you can't manage anything else. Can't have you sick for your investiture."

"Should have thought of that last night," grumbled Merlin. Fortunately, the Queen wasn't an early riser and Merlin had an hour or so to let the medicine work before she summoned them.

"You're certain you have it down, Merlin? The exact wording is important," Arthur hissed in his ear on the way to the throne room.

"Yeah, I've got it," Merlin assured him anxiously. Arthur glared at him to let him know what the Prince thought of his assurances.

The Queen awaited them in the throne room with only Sir Hector, Prince Thaddeus, and Merlin's knights to witness the investiture. Sir Leon had joined Arthur and Merlin on the way, but the rest of the Camelot knights were readying themselves for departure in the courtyard. As the doors were closed behind them, Arthur laid a hand on Merlin's shoulder blade, guiding him to take precedence approaching the dais. Merlin dropped to one knee before the Queen, who stepped down to the bottom step in front of her throne.

The Queen held her scepter in front of her. "We receive you, Lord Emrys, and ask your intent in coming before us this morning."

Merlin held her gaze steadily, highly aware of his King standing a step behind him and to one side and let the words he'd expanded flow. "By the grace of Lord Lloegyr, Arthur Pendragon, I offer my pledge of loyalty to you, Queen Rhea of Ergyng; that I will be ever true in your defense and the defense of those who follow in your line, that I will hold the freedom of Ergyng and her people as dearly as I hold my own and that I will advocate justice within and without Ergyng's borders. I give my word that I will hold nothing higher than this pledge, saving only the interest of Albion itself and the embodiment of those interests in the form of the High King, for I am first his servant, who has yet to claim his throne."

Merlin had heard Arthur's sharp intake of breath and listened to his feet shuffle slightly. He had no doubt he'd shocked Arthur greatly, but he kept his eyes locked on the Queen's face and the slight tightening of her lips, which relaxed into mild amusement despite the sharpness of her gaze.

The Queen raised her eyes to look questioningly at Arthur. "Lord Lloegyr, I am minded to accept Lord Emry's oath, as amended, but I would have your confirmation that such is given with your full consent."

Merlin could hear Arthur fluff his cloak and bit his lip, trying not to smile at the Prince's discomfiture. The Queen seemed patience itself as she awaited Arthur's answer.

Finally it came, firmly and confidently, though dragged between the Prince's teeth as only Uther had ever been able to do before. "I, Arthur Pendragon, Lord of Lloegyr, endorse Lord Emrys' words and recommend you accept his vow as I know him to be a man of honor."

The Queen tilted her chin in a nod and took a half step forward. She laid her scepter on Merlin's right shoulder and then his left. He bowed his head in response as she intoned, "We accept your vow, Merlin Ambrosius, Lord Emrys, and name you to our Court at Ergyng. We award you the estate of Wilusa together with the lands formerly held by Lord Morveryn."

She took the half step back again and motioned Devon forward. The servant carried a banner that had been rolled tightly to the top of the standard. Now he planted the butt on the floor and smoothly released the ribbon allowing the smoky grey banner to unfurl. The white dragon appliqued across the dark field was similar in form to Camelot's crest, but in full flight and looking down, with front claws reaching out as if to catch.

The Queen smiled in satisfaction. "Merlin Ambrosius, we request you accept this coat of arms to represent your person, your family, and all of your generations."

Merlin smiled breathlessly. "It's beautiful, Highness. Thank you."

"I'm pleased you like it," said the Queen with a small smile. The Queen then handed her scepter to Sir Hector, who set in its stand beside the throne and passed her something small from his closed fist. She extended her empty hand to Merlin. "Your hand, please, Lord Emrys," she requested.

He extended his right and she slipped a ring loosely onto his finger. When he pulled it back he saw the same dragon emblem as on the banner in raised relief in the gold of the ring. His face flushed, realizing the ring was intended to be his signet.

Queen Rhea held out a hand toward Merlin and commanded, "Arise, Lord Emrys, and receive the vows of your knights in my presence."

Merlin gained his feet and turned toward his knights, noting at a glance the thunder building behind Arthur's lips. Mildly chastened, Merlin ignored his Lord in favor of the knights who had drawn their swords and dropped to their knees, their swords upturned in front of their faces.

Sir Rodri began, "Lord Emrys, I pledge you my sword and my life and beg that I may be allowed to continue to serve as your Steward for as long as I may serve you well."

Sir Cyndav snorted. "As Sherriff of Noent, I pledge my sword to the house of Emrys. Long may your Lordship serve in honor."

Sir Hodni glared daggers at Cyndav's backhanded oath. But Sir Wallach looked up at Merlin with admiring eyes and intoned, "My life and my sword ever in your defense, Lord Emrys. Command me and it will be as though the thought were my own."

Sir Vrennin hissed at Hodni to begin his turn. Hodni looked up at Merlin with determination. "I am yours to command, my Lord, on my sacred honor as a knight."

Sir Vrennin swallowed nervously, but his voice rang out, "I will serve you willingly, Lord Emrys, and am grateful for the chance to serve so great a Lord."

Merlin felt a bit overwhelmed by the outpouring, but knew better than to show it beyond a small lift to his lips. "I receive your oaths, and vow to look after your welfare as you preserve mine. Rise."

The knights clamored to their feet and sheathed their swords. Sir Wallach offered Merlin his hand and pounded him on back in congratulations. The other knights also shook with Merlin with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

The knights quieted when the Queen said to Arthur, "You'll be wanting to get on your way, Highness."

"By your leave, Highness," Wallach interrupted unabashedly, "both of your Highnesses, there's a matter that requires Lord Emrys' attention." He slapped Hodni on the shoulder and the younger knight flushed with embarrassment. "Shouldn't delay our departure for even an hour."

"Oh, of course," agreed the Queen affably, tolerant amusement lighting her eyes. "Such happy duties must be tended to."

"Happy duties?" asked Arthur.

"It's n-nothing, Highness," said Sir Hodni, blushing more brightly. "I'm sure there's no need…"

"A knight shouldn't stammer so," said Cyndav, rolling his eyes.

"Really, Cyndav," admonished Rodri, "even I can remember what it was like to be young." Turning to Arthur with a conciliatory smile, Rodri continued, "Hodni wishes to be married. The Lady Dia is quite lovely, but her father wants Lord Emrys' assurances that he's not planning to turf the lot of us and bring in his own people before he gives his consent to the match. Such things have been known to happen."

"Don't think Sir Cywilleg cares about the rest of us," Wallach boomed jovially, "but he'd like some assurance his daughter won't be back if he gives her away."

Hodni looked like he'd like to melt through the floor.

"The evenings are long enough an hour should not be over long a delay, Highness," the Queen assured Arthur. "Even if you choose to stop at the mines."

"I'll defer to your judgement then, Highness," assented Arthur with a slight bow, but Merlin could see the spark of lightning in his eyes that he was sure was for him and would only worsen the more it was delayed. "Don't keep me waiting overlong, Merlin," warned Arthur.

"The rest of us will see that all is in readiness," said Wallach affably, bowing to the royals and leading the rest of Merlin's knights toward the courtyard.

Merlin flashed his King a worried look before following his knight to meet the prospective bride and her father.

Chapter Text

Sir Wallach had been as good as his word and all of the knights awaited only the arrival of the new Lord, Merlin's new banner held proudly by Sir Vrennin, for his progress to his estate even as Sir Lucan held Arthur's. The party mounted up as soon as Merlin appeared, leaving Hodni happily waving from the steps and no time for Arthur to talk to Merlin, at least not privately. The Prince chaffed at the change Merlin had made to the oath he'd taken. The last sentence should have been, 'I give my word that I will hold nothing higher than this pledge, saving only my prior commitment to Arthur Pendragon, the present Lord Lloegyr.' There'd been nothing about Albion and certainly no implication that Arthur should be acknowledged as High King. Merlin had thrown that in all on his own. Unless the Queen had convinced him to add it. But no, she'd seemed surprised. Merlin's knights? Maybe, but Arthur had a feeling it had all come out of his servant's addled head.

The ride was pleasant enough. Neither hot nor cold and the knights talked together affably enough. Merlin's new estates lay less than three leagues away so even at a leisurely pace they'd easily make the estate for supper. They had to turn south a short distance out of the way to reach the mines, but even that shouldn't take them much more than an hour out of the way. Arthur allowed the pleasantness of the day to lull his irritation while he rode. Time enough to rake Merlin over the coals for his behavior once they had some privacy.

It was the quiet that disturbed Arthur's thoughts as they rode up to the village. There were not more than twenty huts, but that was more than enough to have some activity. Certainly there should be children playing outside. Wisps of smoke from a dozen of the chimneys attested to recent habitation. Arthur was about to call a halt well outside the ring of huts when Wallach hauled up his horse and did it for him. The Prince glanced over to see the wariness in the knight's eyes.

Wallach slipped from his mount, warning, "Keep your men mounted, Highness. I think they're spooked and they'd best see friends first."

Rodri also dismounted and looked to Wallach, allowing him to lead. The two knights advanced into the village, leaving their swords sheathed. Cyndav remained mounted with the Camelot knights and merely leaned forward in his saddle to watch, while Vrennin moved his mount so that Merlin's banner hovered directly behind the new lord's head.

A commotion from the road on the other side of the village drew Arthur's attention. Men armed with pickaxes appeared on the run and Arthur understood. A sentry must have alerted the miners to their presence, an enemy presence. The women and children would have fled into the woods to hide. He held up a hand sharply. "Hold!" he commanded his knights. "Let the Ergyng knights handle it."

"Here, Lavan!" bellowed Wallach. "Is this how you greet your new Lord?"

The miners slowed and piled up in a knot together just on the other side of the huts. The leader, a short but burly man with brown hair and beard called, "Are you our new Lord then, Sir Wallach? Those are Camelot knights supporting you. Have you given up your arts and come to kill us all?"

"Nay to all, old fool," called Wallach back. "Come and greet Lord Emrys properly. Just you yourself if your men still fear the past."

"Lord Emrys? Backed by CAMELOT knights?" shrieked the headman.

Beside him, Arthur felt Merlin slip from his saddle. Merlin glanced up at the Prince nervously. "Guess this is my first test." Arthur had to stop himself from calling Merlin back as his servant strode purposefully forward. It didn't make the Prince feel any better that Sir Cyndav finally got off his horse and followed his anointed lord.

"Arthur?" asked Sir Leon quietly.

"We wait," said Arthur firmly, never taking his eyes from the scene in front of him.

Merlin had reached the knights now and stepped up between Wallach and Rodri. The headman motioned his men to stay where they were and handed his pickaxe to another man. He jogged up to the knights and bowed to Sir Wallach without taking his gaze away from Merlin.

"Lord Emrys," intoned Sir Wallach, "may I present Lavan, headman of this village? Lavan, this is Lord Emrys. The Queen accepted his oath just this morning and has gifted him all the lands previously held by Lord Morveryn."

"My duty to you," gritted out Lavan, bowing low to Merlin. "We pay our taxes regular. Lord Morveryn never had cause to find fault with this village."

"Why do you greet Camelot knights as you would bandits?" asked Merlin, his chin flicking towards the still armed miners.

Lavan looked past him at the Camelotians before answering. "Can't think of any reason Camelot knights would come here other than their witch hunts."

"Prince Arthur of Camelot is a great friend of Lord Emrys," Wallach assured him.

Merlin snorted in amusement. "I'm his servant. But yes, I count Arthur as a friend. We've saved each other's lives often enough. I'll be happy to remain in his service until I die."

"Begging my Lord's pardon," asked Lavan, "but how…?"

Sir Wallach interrupted him. "Queen Rhea accepted Lord Emrys' oath, Lavan. And part of that oath was an acknowledgement of Lord Emrys' service to Prince Arthur." Wallach stepped closer to Lavan and dropped his voice a touch. "That's for neither you nor I to understand. The royals worked it out and as long as they're satisfied, this soldier is satisfied."

Lavan nodded in acknowledgement. "Well enough. Then my Lord must return to Camelot? To be by Prince Arthur's side?"

"I don't know about by his side," said Merlin conspiratorially. "I walk at least two steps behind him, but we get along well enough."

Lavan's brow furrowed in an effort to understand the situation. "Surely a great Lord…"

"But I'm not," Merlin corrected him. "I'm a servant and no more than that in Camelot. Once I reach the border, I'll change out of my finery and be no more than I was before the Queen made me a Lord. Sir Rodri will continue as the seneschal here and keep me informed of the needs of the people. But my work is in Camelot. It has to be."

Lavan looked stunned, but nodded. "As Emrys."

Merlin pursed his lips thoughtfully but gave one quick short nod he hoped the Camelot knights would miss.

The beginnings of eagerness in his voice, Lavan asked, "And is the Prince such a one, my Lord, as can stop the searches and the hunts we fear?"

At this Arthur swung off his horse. "Stay here," he ordered his knights and strode forward. Lavan took three steps backward at his approach. Frowning, the Prince came up beside Merlin and Rodri made way for him. "Have you had Camelot knights come here to hunt sorcerers before?" he demanded of the headman.

"Not here, Sir," responded the headman grudgingly.

"Highness," corrected Sir Wallach.

"Highness?" asked Lavan, clearly startled and looking ready to take flight.

"This is Prince Arthur," said Merlin affably. "If you have any complaints to make about Camelot knights, you won't get a better chance."

"I'd not dare, my Lord," responded Lavan, keeping his head bent deferentially.

"Stand up," ordered Arthur. "I think a man should be able to stand up in his own home no matter who is present."

Lavan straightened his back and stood watching Arthur warily.

"I understand the miners of this village relocated here some years ago from Camelot," said Arthur, glancing at the men huddled at the other side of the village. "I would know why so many would choose to abandon their duties."

"Abandon nothing," spat Lavan. "We ran for our lives or for the lives of those we loved."

Arthur stepped up to the headman and stared challengingly into his eyes. "Tell me," he commanded.

The headman would no longer meet his gaze, but words tumbled from his lips. "One of my cousins lived in Camelot, in the city. He stole a horse to reach us before the knights. Warned us of the purge. We threw old Henley, who found the ore for us, and my own daughter, Beda, aboard the horse and they flew for Ergyng. My wife's mother, Maidie, refused to go with them. She said she'd only slow them and if the knights found no sorcerer where they expected to find more than one the village would suffer, maybe not even survive." The headman did look at the Prince then. "She stayed as our shield and let the knights burn her as a sacrifice to protect the rest of us. The knights searched for Henley, destroyed a fair bit of our possessions rooting through our houses trying to find him but only a few of us knew where he'd gone and we pretended ignorant. They didn't know about Beda, she wasn't yet a woman and had only found her magic the season before. Some of the knights wanted to put the torch to our houses, but the head knight kept control and wouldn't let them. I'll credit him that far at least. When they left and we'd given Maidie proper rites, eight families came here to Ergyng. Five more families left to find other relations, fearing for their safety. I can't say what became of them, but only four families stayed to work the mines at Chemary."

"And when you came here?" prompted the Prince.

Lavan shrugged. "I don't know how it was in the city, but the closer we got to the border, the more folk were shocked to hear of the purge. We found one whole village burnt out and I don't think it was bandits did it. We weren't the first to flee to Ergyng and when folk heard we were miners they sent us right to Lord Morveryn. There'd been sickness among his miners a few years before and he had places for us, they said." Lavan looked at Merlin at this point. "Lord Morveryn was a fair master; gave us a place and never took more than his due."

Arthur looked at the men ranged on the far side of the village. "And where are this Henley and your daughter now, Lavan?"

"Dead," said Lavan shortly. "Henley peacefully in his sleep of age as few men get to and my daughter in childbirth."

Arthur transferred his gaze to the headman. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"But you'd still take her from me if she were here," spat Lavan. "There's none in this village have ever practiced magic in Camelot." He looked to Merlin, though not with any hope. "That I'll swear with any oath my Lord will ask."

Arthur caught the implication and looked again at the men at the other side of the village, wondering which of them was the sorcerer, though, it could equally have been one of the women in hiding, or there could even be more than one sorcerer in this village. Acrid bile filled his mouth as he realized the implications of Merlin's oath. There was a sorcerer here, at least one, and Merlin was their Lord. Association with a sorcerer was enough to be put to death in Camelot. Arthur took a breath, giving himself a moment to find a solution. "Merlin, if there is a sorcerer here, they have to go. Whether they've ever been to Camelot or not is not the issue. It would be worth your life to associate with a sorcerer. They can't live on your lands."

Merlin blinked at him. "Sorcery isn't illegal in Ergyng."

"But it is in Camelot," said Arthur. "I won't insist on an execution, and I've no right to search here without your permission. A proclamation that sorcery will not be permitted on your lands, and an order of banishment for any persons practicing magic would be sufficient."

The headman's fists balled and he glared daggers at the Prince.

"Then you would have to start with me," Sir Wallach stated firmly. Pulling his sword from its scabbard and laying it across his palms, he offered it to Merlin. "I have sworn my life to you, Lord Emrys. You know me to be a sorcerer. Do with me as you will."

Merlin's eyes widened at the offer. "Put up your sword, Sir Wallach. There's no need." As the knight slipped his sword back into its scabbard, Merlin turned to the Prince, "I'm not giving that order, Arthur. It wouldn't be obeyed. And then there'd have to be executions, searches, a purge. Sorcery isn't illegal in Ergyng and I'm not making it so here."

Arthur grabbed Merlin by the arm, not caring what it looked like to his knights or Merlin's liegemen. He dragged Merlin off to the side, away from the headman and Merlin's knights, away from the Knights of Camelot. He looked at Sir Leon as he walked away towards the trees and saw that several of the Camelot knights had drawn their swords, but Leon still held them back. Arthur signaled them firmly to stay put. When they were all the way to the tree line and far enough away not to be heard casually, Arthur growled at his servant in a low voice, "Did you know?"

"Yes," responded Merlin, grimacing at the strength of the grip Arthur kept on his bicep.

"Before you accepted his oath?" demanded the Prince.

"Yes, I knew," affirmed Merlin.

Arthur shook his servant and shoved him away. "How could you accept his oath?"

"I thought that's what one did when being made a lord," said Merlin flippantly, rubbing circulation back into the spot Arthur had held.

Arthur knew the shock he was feeling was written on his face, but he couldn't compose himself. "Not when you know that the man is unworthy."

"Why?" asked Merlin, stepping closer to his Lord. "Why is he unworthy? Because he has magic? His fellow knights think him honorable, he's obviously a leader."

"He has magic," said Arthur between his teeth.

"Which is legal here and widely practiced," said Merlin, "and you knew that."

"And walked right into the trap," said Arthur closing his eyes. "I endorsed your oath and then you turned right around and accepted his knowing he had magic."

"And if I had told you about Wallach's magic before the ceremony?" asked Merlin.

Arthur looked into his servant's eyes. "I would have told you to refuse his oath, or more likely not allowed you to become a Lord of Ergyng in the first place."

"And then we wouldn't have gotten the treaty and Camelot might well have gone to war to take what Uther wanted," said Merlin firmly.

In a low growl, Arthur accused, "Instead I allowed you to take an oath that made you a traitor to Camelot."

Merlin stepped so close Arthur could breathe in his servant's breath. "I am a traitor to nothing, Arthur Pendragon. I serve you with all that I am. I just won't put up with you being a prat about it."

"Is that why you proclaimed me King of Albion in your oath?" asked Arthur through gritted teeth.

Merlin tipped his head wryly. "What Rhea wants is to be part of the legend of the Once and Future King. By accepting that oath, she acknowledged fealty to you. Not to Camelot, to you."

Arthur rebuked him sharply, "And I to her. Fealty cuts both ways, Merlin, not that you'd understand."

His eyes flashing merrily, Merlin said lightly, "I thought it was a good idea."

"You haven't had a good idea since you came to Camelot, Merlin," growled the Prince.

Merlin sighed. "What if Rhea's right? What if you are the future King of Albion?"

"Oh, so now you believe in prophecy?" asked Arthur, his voice shrill and his eyes wide.

"I believe in you," said Merlin firmly. "Who else could bring together all the disparate peoples who live on this isle? Certainly not your father."

"Leave my Father out of this, you treasonous snake," hissed Arthur, but his voice carried only frustration, not the bite of anger.

Merlin stepped back far enough to perform a half bow. "Going to execute me, my King?"

"I'm not yet a King," Arthur hissed as he placed his hands on his hips in frustration. "Do as you will with your lands, Lord Emrys. I'll need more council than just your own to determine what to do with you."

Merlin nodded acknowledgement of Arthur's order and started back to the headman and his knights. "Lavan," he called as he approached. "Tell your people to keep a good watch, but you need have no more fear here than you ever have."

Arthur was astonished to see Lavan drop to one knee at Merlin's feet. The headman looked up at Arthur's servant and asked, "Emrys?"

Merlin nodded shortly and Lavan jumped up. The headman strode quickly to his fellow villagers, calling, "Here now! Lord Emrys must go back into Camelot, into danger. We'll do what we can for him. Go into your homes and find any coins of Camelot, for Emrys cannot be seen with Ergyng coins in a magic hating kingdom."

"That's not necessary," called Merlin, but the men scattered into their huts.

"Peace, my Lord," said Sir Rodri. "I'll count it out and apply it toward their taxes for the year."

Arthur returned to the Knights of Camelot, surprised at the sudden display of loyalty, and took his horse by his reins. He stroked his mount's silky mane as a way to calm the turbulent thoughts rattling his skull.

"What do we do, Arthur?" asked Leon, the wideness of his eyes betraying his tension.

"We're guests in enemy territory, we knew that when we came." The Prince raised his voice slightly to overcome any anxiety that might show in his tone. "We haven't managed to avoid every trap, but we have accomplished our purpose. We'll go back to Camelot with the treaty our King commanded and our honor intact. That's enough." Arthur swung into the saddle.

Rodri reclaimed Wallach's horse as well as his own and led them to the sorcerer-knight. They mounted and stayed apart from the Camelotians. The villagers quickly gathered to present Merlin with a small purse. This time all of the men came close and Merlin reached out a hand to pat a shoulder here, shake a hand there in thanks. Within moments, he and Cyndav broke apart from the villagers to claim their mounts.

"Join your knights, Merlin," drawled Arthur, indicating Wallach and Rodri with a lift of his chin. "We will follow."

Merlin nodded shortly and led his horse apart before he mounted. Vrennin followed, still with Merlin's banner held high and Merlin's knights surrounded him in good order as they proceeded down the road.

"We're not still going to the estate, are we, Sire?" asked Sir Endwyn.

"Are the Knights of Camelot cowards?" asked Arthur bitingly and he spurred his horse after Merlin, his knights, and his sorcerer.

Chapter Text

The trees were thinning, allowing more light through the forest when Merlin's group pulled up and Sir Rodri trotted back to the Camelotians. "We'll be in Noent in minutes, Highness. Lord Emrys would defer to you as to what order you would wish to enter the town."

Arthur thought quickly. "This should be Lord Emrys' moment. We'll hold back fifty paces."

The old knight nodded. "As you will, Highness."

Arthur gaged the distance carefully. After the negative reaction from the villagers, it wouldn't do for the Camelot contingent to appear to be chasing Merlin's party. They had to appear to be together but following the new lord respectfully. He matched his mount's gait to Merlin's exactly and his knights followed his lead, Sir Leon riding beside him, Sir Lucan carrying Arthur's banner directly behind and the others paired two by two following.

Only a hundred yards or so separated the last of the forest from the first of the cottages. This town had no wall, but the keep rising beyond it appeared to be adequately walled for the townsfolk to huddle within the confines of the baily if they could reach that safety in time. The townsfolk had begun to gather and cheer their new Lord. Flowers were thrown before Merlin's mount.

Then a man pointed out the Camelot banner. Mothers shoved their children behind them and husbands stepped in front of their wives. Some of the citizens approached Merlin with their hands folded in supplication. Arthur saw Merlin lean out of his saddle to reassure one tall granny. Sir Wallach laid a hand on Merlin's shoulder and spoke to him just before the Camelotians reached the first of the houses. Merlin nodded at the sorcerer and took a greater hold on his reigns. Sir Wallach threw back his head and raised his hands crying out what had to be a spell for a moment later a shower of colored sparks exploded over the heads of the Ergyning knights. The crowed broke out in oh’s of delight and wary glances at the Camelotians.

Arthur's mount startled little, being a finely trained warhorse, but he took a firmer hold on the reigns anyway as he ground his teeth. Beside him, Sir Leon's mount shied at the display, but Leon controlled her easily. "We could go around the town," Leon suggested urgently, leaning close to his liege.

"We follow," commanded Arthur grimly. "These people are afraid of us. They must see no fear in us."

Leon nodded his understanding. A frightened crowd might attack if they sensed weakness.

Ahead of them, Merlin looked back, no doubt to gauge Arthur's reaction. Then the Prince saw his servant lean towards the sorcerer and the sorcerer nod. Oh, he wouldn't. Except this was Merlin, and Merlin would. When Merlin reached the town's marketplace, empty of stalls today, Wallach again threw back his head and shouted a spell, but the incantation was slightly longer this time. The shower of rainbow sparks floated up into the air and formed into the shape of a dragon, a dragon that looked suspiciously like the emblem on Merlin's new banner. It flew once around the square and then exploded into a new shower of sparks directly over Merlin's head. Merlin threw up a hand to shield himself from the shower, but as he looked around at his people, Arthur could see his servant's broad grin. The crowd began to clap and cheer and call "Emrys! Hail Lord Emrys!"

Merlin reached out to his people, but then turned his horse and rode back to the Camelotians alone. He came up right beside Arthur. "Ride beside me, Arthur?" he asked, still grinning. "Please? Between our people?"

Arthur nodded shortly and ordered Leon quietly, "Fifty paces behind the Ergynings, Sir Leon. Twenty-five behind me. I'll be safe enough beside Merlin."

"Very good, Highness," answered Leon, none of the trepidation in his eyes showing in his voice.

Merlin and Arthur took their places alone exactly between the two parties and Merlin signaled his knights forward.

"You are in so much trouble," Arthur said out of the side of his mouth as Merlin waved to the cheering crowd.

Arthur managed to smile and wave to some of the citizens as he and Merlin exited the town, though they reacted to him more as though they feared he was casting curses on them. For one of the few times in his life, Arthur was being no more than tolerated and only because of the man beside him, his servant for goodness sake! Arthur breathed a sigh of relief as they passed out of the town and approached the fortress.

Arthur approved the position of the keep, a single tower nestled into the crook of a dog's leg lake, wings spread out to either side at an angle and walls to the front forming a diamond shape bailey. The walls rose twice the height of a tall man and the wings not much higher, perhaps two stories. The tower nearly twice the height of the wings. With the lake behind it protecting the occupied wings of the structure, invaders would have to come in over the walls. Arthur didn't doubt it could be taken, but not without a determined force willing to lose a significant percentage of fighting men.

Hooves pounded behind them and the Camelot knights came up to surround Arthur and Merlin just as they reached the walls. "I'm sorry, Highness," said Sir Leon. "I couldn't let you ride in alone."

Arthur just nodded his acknowledgment and searched the walls, noting where the sentries stood. There was no moat on this side of the structure and they passed through a simple portcullis. Soldiers swarming up ladders would be the easiest way to take this fortress, Arthur thought, but if it was also protected by magic… their defenses could be anything.

Once inside the bailey, servants came to take their horses. Sir Rodri approached, but the other Ergyning knights busied themselves with their mounts. "Highness," said Sir Rodri, "I hope it will not offend you, but with a party this large to accommodate, I'll need to use every room. We've had no Lady for many years and that room has often been used for guests. It is the finest room in the keep, saving only the Lord's room of course."

Arthur rolled his eyes when Merlin asked, "Why would that be a problem?"

"He just offered me your wife's room, Merlin. Starting to see a pattern here." Arthur held up a hand to interrupt whatever his blushing servant was about to reply. "I'm sure it will be fine. I'm going to need a place to meet with my people," the Prince glared at Merlin, "all of my people as soon as possible."

"Of course, Highness," answered Sir Rodri. "The great hall is being prepared for the night's feast, but there is a smaller hall meant for the family alone that's been rarely in use these last years with Lord Morveryn so ill. If you'll allow the servants to show your knights where they are to be quartered for the night, I believe I can have it ready for your use shortly."

"Well enough," agreed Arthur.

Rodri called over one of the servants, gave some instructions, then led Arthur and Merlin up two flights of stairs to adjoining bedrooms. Once he had left them, Arthur took a moment to pour some water into a basin and towel the sweat of the road off his face and neck.

Merlin came to the connecting door. "I'm sorry, Arthur."

Arthur snorted and bit off his words. "You're sorry. You are sorry. About the sorriest excuse for a manservant I've ever met! Maybe you'll make a better Lord. How, I've no idea, but miracles have been known to happen. How could you sanction a display of magic like that? And don't say you didn't. I saw you!"

Merlin stood so still, Arthur thought for a moment he'd refuse to answer. "It calmed the people," he said finally.

"It calmed the people," Arthur said disbelievingly. "A display of magic?"

"Yes," said Merlin passionately, "they're used to it here, Arthur. They saw your knights, they saw you, and they were afraid. It was only when Wallach displayed his magic and you didn't attack that they believed you wouldn't."

"And that's why you came back to ride with me? To calm the people?" asked Arthur, looking for any traces of deception in his servant's face.

Merlin walked up to his Prince. "Here you are either the future High King of Albion or the heir to the mad King of Camelot. You are adored or feared depending on which title you're known under."

Arthur looked away from his servant. "I don't know what's going to happen now. I don't know how I take you back to Camelot. I'm not even sure how I return." Arthur turned abruptly, walking out to find Rodri and the space he'd been promised. "Maybe the knights will have some ideas."

Merlin joined him and they clattered back down the stairs in strained silence.

The room they were ushered into was too small for all the Knights of Camelot, who had already crowded in, and were trying to shush Sir Accolon, who persisted in obnoxiously demanding, "What kind of mushrooms do they use in the stew around here? Well, really there must be some reason the entire countryside is mad!" He quieted only when Arthur frowned and shook his head at him, but the knight continued to grumble while the rest talked of trivialities over him.

Eight chairs sat around the rectangular table and servants brought in six more of various shapes and sizes. Arthur took the head of the table and dragged up a rounded chair that had an uncomfortable looking low back for Merlin to sit at his right on the corner of the table. Knights squished in where they could, Leon to Arthur's left. When the knights were seated, Arthur rapped on the table to quiet them.

"I would take council of you," said Arthur solemnly. "Much has happened since we came to Ergyng. My manservant has been made a Lord of Ergyng, and yet I would not lose him. No lord wishes to lose a man who has offered up his life for him and Merlin has several times taken a place not only of danger, but of certain death. How he's survived, I can only attribute to a fool's luck."

The knights chuckled in response.

"Sire, said Sir Leon turning to his Prince in sympathy, "before today, I thought it would be fine for Merlin to accompany us back to Camelot with a paper title but he's accepted the oath of an acknowledged sorcerer. We even witnessed this false knight perform magic, with his new Lord's blessing." Leon's glare at Merlin looked miserable at best, but Arthur didn't doubt his knight would bar his manservant from the border.

"Yes," said Arthur sitting back in his seat, his fingers drumming thoughtfully on the table. "That was the trap. The problem is that Merlin is bound to me by the same oath that made him a Lord of Ergyng and I stood there and witnessed Sir Wallach's oath. In the eyes of Camelot's law, I am just as guilty of association with a sorcerer."

Arthur's words created a hubbub around the table. "Sire!" cried Sir Accolon. "You weren't to know. You certainly can't be held responsible."

Sir Caradoc shook his head. "As a ploy to separate us from our Prince, it is horribly weak. Surely, King Uther won't hold you at fault, Highness."

"He'll want to burn the new Lord though," said Sir Endwyn, nodding thoughtfully at Merlin, "which loses us the treaty."

"We'll have to leave him behind, Arthur," said Sir Leon sourly. But then the knight tried to reassure his liege, "Merlin would be fine here. He's a lord now and for some unaccountable reason, the people love him. He'd look out for Camelot's interests with Ergyng…"

Merlin interrupted, "I'm returning to Camelot."

"Merlin, be reasonable," said Arthur, though it clearly pained him.

"I am Lord Emrys," said Merlin, straightening regally.

"Oh, so now I'm to use your title am I?" demanded Arthur, becoming outraged.

"To them, Arthur," Merlin tried to explain, "to the Ergynings I am Lord Emrys,".

"What of it?" asked Arthur.

Merlin stared into the Prince's eyes. "I am Lord Emrys, advisor to the High King of Albion. If I do not accompany my King, then I am not Emrys."

Arthur leaned his head back, tapping it against the high back of his chair. "And if you are not Emrys, it nullifies the treaty."

"High King?" asked Sir Caradoc, looking blank. Around the table most of the knights looked just as mystified.

Arthur groaned.

"May I, Sire?" asked Sir Leon. When Arthur nodded his permission, Leon addressed the rest of the knights present. "Queen Rhea believes in the prophesies of her sorcerers. She believes Arthur to be the High King of all Albion."

Smiles and small chuckles rounded the table. "Well, that's alright then," said Accolon, humor tugging the corners of his mouth. "Then she has to obey whatever our Prince commands."

"It's not that simple," moaned Arthur. "I am not yet a King, though Rhea has acknowledged me as her future Sovereign."

Lanval, the youngest of the knights present tried to make sense of the situation. "And for you to be this High King, you have to have an advisor called Emrys, who is apparently your manservant?"

"Apparently," groaned Arthur.

"So the treaty is based on lies?" asked Sir Accolon.

"Artifice might be a better term," said Sir Endwyn blandly.

"The treaty," growled Arthur, "is based on conflicting points of view, and contradictory responsibilities under the laws of opposing governments. All treaties are. I've just never… been involved with one this divergent before."

Accolon leaned close to Sir Endwyn. "Does divergent mean insane?"

Sir Endwyn struck the younger knight a ringing slap on the arm and then turned to Arthur. "So the only way to keep the treaty is to pretend that nothing at all untoward has happened here, that you merely met with a Lord of Ergyng named Emrys to form the treaty?"

Arthur nodded sourly, "That sounds about right."

"So we employ sophistry," agreed Endwyn casually.

"I don't know that word either," said Accolon irritably.

"It means you don't tell the King things he doesn't want to hear," said Endwyn.

"I won't lie to my Father," said Arthur firmly.

"Nor should you, Highness," said Sir Endwyn. "But what do you think he will ask you? Will he ask you if you saw sorcery in a land where it's legal? Then he would have to ask if you put the sorcerer to death. And if you put a sorcerer to death who was under the protection of the Queen, you would have risked war between Camelot and Ergyng. Which it was your mission to prevent. No, I think the King will not be so direct. Nor will King Uther want to hear that Queen Rhea regards his son as High King over him. That would only serve to drive a wedge between you and might well be the Queen's true intent. No, I suggest we construct a more plausible story, using real facts, but leaving out those bits that only forward the Queen's agenda against the interests of Camelot."

"So we lie," said Accolon smugly.

"Are you calling me a liar, Sir Accolon?" asked Sir Endwyn dangerously. "Think carefully of how much blood you are willing to spill before you answer."

"That depends," answered Accolon, haughtily leaning back in his chair, "on whether or not our Prince accepts your advice. Him I fear. You not at all."

Sir Endwyn nodded shortly and looked to Arthur, but before the Prince could speak, Sir Leon cleared his throat. "I have to agree with Endwyn, Arthur. Queen Rhea is clearly playing a long game with many twists and turns. But I think the most immediate trap would be driving a wedge between you and your father. King and Heir cannot be at odds."

Arthur considered their words. "And if my Father discovered later that I'd lied to him?"

"Don't lie," advised Sir Endwyn.

"A lie of omission is still a lie, Sir Endwyn," rebuked Arthur.

"Alright, Highness, let's say you were open and honest with the King about everything that happened here. What do you think the result would be?" asked Sir Endwyn.

"War," said Arthur, suddenly dry-mouthed. "Probably not immediately, but Father wouldn't tolerate Rhea's attitude for long."

"I don't fear war," proclaimed Caradoc.

"Nor do any of us," said Sir Leon. Agreement sounded around the table.

"These fools were too free with their information, Highness," said Accolon. "Camelot could defeat them easily."

"Perhaps not easily," qualified Sir Endwyn. "Information helps, but their defenses are in good order and they could certainly make some revisions before our army could get here."

"You're an old woman, Endwyn," drawled Accolon.

Endwyn rose and punched the table. "I fear no man and especially not you."

Accolon also rose, "At your pleasure then."

"Enough!" cried Arthur before either could throw a gauntlet in the other's face. "I was sent here secure the resources Camelot needs. That I have done. I will not lie to my Father, but I won't spend thousands of lives on pride either." Arthur rose to his feet. "There is a line between pride in one's accomplishments and hubris that demands all acknowledge one's superiority that I do not intend for Camelot to cross. If you will support me in this, then I must ask a vow of each of you that you never reveal that Merlin is Emrys or that you heard anything of a prophecy of a High King of Albion. Say anything else you like, but those are the forks in the path that lead to trouble."

"I, for one, can do that easily, Highness," affirmed Sir Leon. Most of the knights voiced agreement as Endwyn and Accolon retook their seats, glaring at each other.

"But Merlin did condone the use of magic," protested Sir Caradoc.

Sir Endwyn leaned back and steepled his fingers. His earlier ire not yet forgotten, his voice was perhaps more biting than he should use in current company. "I trust his Highness can adjust his servant's attitude towards magic once we reach Camelot."

Chuckles and approving murmurs sounded around the table.

Merlin looked up at his Prince. "Stocks?"

"When has standing in the stocks ever taught you anything, Merlin? No, I'll have to come up with a more appropriate strategy." Arthur clapped his servant on the shoulder. "Enjoy your feast tonight, Lord Emrys. Tomorrow you go back to being just plain Merlin, and then you're all mine."

Merlin cringed up at his Prince, accepting his fate.

Chapter Text

"Go away," mumbled Merlin, tightening the covers around him.

"My Lord, Sir Wallach requests an audience," whispered a voice, entirely too close to Merlin's ear.

He turned toward the voice, peering into the dim rosily lit room. Devon hovered over him. "Why?" grumbled Merlin, his voice rough with sleep.

Devon tipped his head in the direction of the open connecting door. He kept his voice low. "While his Highness and his knights sleep."

"Oh," said Merlin, recognizing that his sorcerer-knight had sent a sorcerer-servant to wake him. He'd bet his boots the subject would be magic. Of course, now he could afford new boots, but even Arthur had trouble getting a pair that fit just exactly right, so it still represented a considerable bet in Merlin's eyes.

He reluctantly swung his legs out of the comfortable bed that he'd miss dreadfully once he was back sleeping on his cot in Gaius' chambers. Devon brought him his clothes with steps so quiet that Merlin looked curiously at his feet. When Merlin raised his eyebrow at Devon's stockinged feet, the servant shrugged and pointed toward the door. Merlin took the hint and waited to slip into his boots until they were out in the corridor. Not that Arthur was likely to wake. He was too used to Merlin moving about his room to think much of a few footsteps in the room next door. Still, no use taking chances.

Torches and candles guttered low from their all night use. The few servants they passed bobbed politely at Merlin and the men at arms straightened as he passed. Devon led him to a lower level and for a moment, Merlin wondered if he was being led to a dungeon and his imprisonment. But the double door the servant led him through opened on a library no bigger than Gaius' tower room. Only one long wall was covered in shelves of books, relics littering the top shelf above, but it was impressive for even a lord to have collected so many tomes. How Camelot's Court Physician had managed to acquire his collection was a mystery even his apprentice wasn't privy to.

Wallach turned to his Lord even as another man stood up from a wide desk filled with writing materials and several more books. "I wasn't sure if you would come," said the knight deferentially. "I'm honored with your trust, Lord Emrys."

"Please, I'd rather be called Merlin," he said, feeling spots of color rising in his cheeks.

Wallach smiled a bit at that but didn't change his attitude a jot. "I don't think you've yet had a good chance to meet Keegan," he said, indicating the second man.

Keegan was not quite as tall as Merlin, but he probably outweighed him two to one and only a little of that was fat. He wore dark robes that marked him as a scholar, or most probably in this keep, another sorcerer. His dark hair had started to gray and recede, but still fell in wild waves to his shoulders. His right eye shone bright with depths as dark as mystery, but his left bore the deep scars of having been burned closed forever. "My Lord," he said deferentially in a deep gravelly voice.

"I noticed you sitting with Sir Wallach last night," said Merlin, extending his hand. "I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to meet."

Keegan hesitated before taking Merlin's hand, but decided just to go with whatever his Lord wanted. "It would be more appropriate to say that Wallach was sitting with me, since he normally has a place of honor at or near the head table and my place is well below the salt. Not that I'm complaining. Lord Morveryn was always fair with me. He could have turned me out after my injury," he indicated his eye, "when I was in shock and my magic would not come to me. He gave me time to heal and put me in charge of his books instead. Lord Morveryn was a great man. May you be his true heir."

"I will endeavor to be worthy." Merlin found himself blushing. "Are these all books of magic?"

"Many," confirmed Keegan. "Some are merely lore or history, some records, maybe half are books of magic."

Merlin breathed deeply in wonder. "I only have the one."

"One?" asked Keegan sharply.

"Magic is illegal in Camelot," Merlin reminded him. "I have… access to a few more, but only one is mine."

Keegan threw out his arm, "These are all yours. Take any you may need."

"And how would I get it to Camelot?" asked Merlin. "If I was caught with it, even Arthur couldn't save me. That's if he didn't decide to light the pyre himself." Wallach and Keegan's glances at each other told Merlin he had shocked them and he thought carefully about what he wanted to say next. "I think Arthur's attitude towards magic may be changing, but it's a lifetime of hate being poured over his head that he's got to overcome and it doesn't help when sorcerers with grudges attack him at least once a month."

Keegan snorted. "All the more reason you may need the knowledge in these books." He pursed his lips and thought. "I'm told Emrys is a very powerful sorcerer. You know how to scry, do you not?"

"Ah, no," said Merlin, wondering how many more times in this conversation he'd be embarrassed. "There's been no reason for me to learn."

"No reason?" thundered Keegan. "One of the most basic and useful spells in magic and there's been no reason? Oh, it takes a little skill and a fair bit of power to go any distance, but most third year apprentices can manage it well enough to get slapped by their masters for peeking where they shouldn't." Keegan threw out his hand to indicate a crystal the size of a man's head on the top shelf. "I was going to say that you could scry me if you needed. Wallach thinks you have the power to throw your image all the way here from Camelot. I have not. If you targeted that crystal with a strong enough spell, it's possible we might even be able to converse. Perhaps I would be able to find you the knowledge you required."

"Then teach me," said Merlin, eager for such knowledge.

"What, on the instant?" asked Keegan.

"I learn most spells fairly quickly," said Merlin enthusiastically. "Always have, but I don't usually have much time when I'm trying to save Arthur's life, so I've gotten plenty of practice. What would I need?"

"Most sorcerers use crystal, my Lord," said Wallach, "but some can make due with a plain bowl of water."

Merlin nodded. "We'll try it that way then. Nothing suspicious about a bowl of water."

"It takes time to master," said Keegan exasperatedly.

"Teach me the spell then," said Merlin, "just the words. If I have to, I'll master it later."

"Here then," said Wallach eagerly, pulling the crystal from its shelf. "You go in your room and I'll teach Emrys the spell and we'll see if he can channel it through the crystal so you can talk." He walked through a curtained archway at the end of the room and left the crystal on a table next to a bed that didn't look much more comfortable than the one Merlin had in Camelot. He brought back a pitcher and basin, and placing the basin on the desk, filled it and set aside the pitcher.

"It takes time," protested Keegan.

"Then we won't be shocked if it doesn't work," said Wallach, steering his friend into the alcove and pulling the curtain shut on him.

The knight rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he returned to Merlin. "Now, my Lord," he said, laying a hand on Merlin's shoulder, "you look into the water, picture the crystal in your mind and repeat after me."

Merlin pronounced the syllables carefully, Wallach correcting his pronunciation twice. He could feel the crystal with his magic on the second try, on the third Keegan's startled face appeared in the water. "Can you hear me?" Merlin asked the image quietly.

"I can, my Lord," bellowed Keegan loud enough to be heard through the curtain, but his voice also echoed through the water image.

"Try not to be so loud if I call you from Camelot," warned Merlin through his pleased grin. "You'll get me caught."

"The advantage to a bowl of water," said Wallach, just as pleased. "One can always spill it and the evidence disappears."

The rings on the curtains scraped loudly as Keegan drew aside the curtain. "Truly, you are credit to your father, my Lord."

"My father?" asked Merlin, surprised. "What do you know of my father?"

Keegan bowed his head. "My apologies if I overstepped. When I heard that the Queen had given you the surname Ambrosius, I rather assumed it must be that you were related to the Dragonlord Balinor Ambrosius."

Merlin's hand went to his mouth. "Yes," he confirmed, tears forming in his eyes. "He died saving my life. I only knew him for two days and knew of him for only a few days longer than that."

"I'm sorry to hear of his passing," said Keegan contritely. He strode to the shelves and pulled down a thin but tall volume and flipped through it as he brought it to Merlin. "There," he said, turning the book for Merlin to see. Balinor's eyes peered up at his son from a pencil drawing. Merlin reached to touch the page, but feared to mar the fine lines. The artist had captured Balinor at a much younger age than when Merlin met him. He was clean shaven with a heavy brow and hair to his shoulders, his eyes wide and slightly mischievous in a lean face. Merlin could understand why his mother had loved him.

"Could… would it be possible to have a copy made?" asked Merlin. "I couldn't have it in Camelot. It would be worth my life if Uther knew I was his son, but later, I'd like to have the likeness in my room here for when I visit."

"Of course, I'll speak to Rhodri about it," said Sir Wallach. "We could even have a painting commissioned for the hall, if you would like."

"Oh, no," said Merlin quickly. "That would be too much of an extravagance. I'm sure there are better things to spend the money on."

"I will speak to Rhodri," said Wallach. "I'm sure we could find some talented young artist who'd be pleased enough to work for room and board and enough paints and canvas to keep him happy."

"Well," hesitated Merlin, "only if it wouldn't be a hardship on the people here."

Wallach reassured him, "Most lords keep an artist of some type on staff, though more usually a singer or musician to entertain. As you won't be in residence, I'm sure a painter won't stress the financial resources of the estate. But here, I've brought you something else." Wallach pulled a glove, just one, of heavy leather from where it hung on his belt.

Merlin accepted it and looked it over, slipping it onto his left hand. It fit him well, the fingers long enough to accommodate his. An ornate picture of a falcon in a rounded square had been stamped into the palm. "A falconer's glove?" he asked, though it barely reached past his wrist. This would be the type of glove one would use with a smaller breed, or one very well trained.

Wallach nodded excitedly. "Keegan and I would have a hard time scrying to you all the way in Camelot even if you had a crystal for us to target and you can't carry one back with you. This has been spelled so that I can send one of my birds to seek it. If you see a falcon circling, you need only get this glove on your hand and if it's mine, it will come to you."

Merlin examined the picture more closely. Worked into the design he could see several runes, but only because he was looking for them. If someone like the witchfinder examined it, someone who was looking closely and knew what they were looking for, they'd recognize the glove as a magical talisman. But it would take someone with that kind of experience. Arthur wouldn't recognize it for what it was, that Merlin was certain of. He smiled at his liegemen. "Thank you. I will guard it closely."

Devon skittered into the room and bobbed his head. "Your pardon, my Lord. His Highness is awake and none please to find you gone. Mark told me on his way to the kitchen to fetch breakfast."

"Ugh, I'd better go before Arthur comes looking for me." Merlin cast one last longing look at the books before shoving the glove at Devon. "See that this is packed in my things. It would be better if Arthur didn't see it, but don't try to hide it if he does."

"Yes, my Lord," Devon agreed quickly.

"Wallach, Keegan," said Merlin turning to the two sorcerers, "you have no idea what this means to me. I can't begin to say…"

"We understand, my Lord," Keegan assured him. "You've been too long without your own kind."

"Be assured you have our support," said Wallach. "We know the wait may yet be long, but we will ever be ready to answer your call."

"Thank you," said Merlin, his heart near bursting as he followed the servant back through the unfamiliar corridors.

Arthur was pacing in the Lord's room when Merlin returned, already dressed for the day but ignoring his breakfast, which Mark was unsuccessfully trying to convince him to eat.

"Where were you?" demanded the Prince.

"I went to the loo," said Merlin, dropping into the place that had been set for him.

"I don't want you wandering around here," commanded Arthur.

"Ah, it's my house," pointed out Merlin, his fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

"Even so," said Arthur, finally dropping into his chair. "Did you run into Wallach?"

"Wallach is my liegeman," said Merlin through his food.

"And a sorcerer," cried Arthur. "He's not to be trusted. Bad enough we had to put up with him at dinner last night."

"He sat below the salt just to stay as far from you as possible, and he didn't do a bit of magic," said Merlin.

"You could have ordered him away," grumbled Arthur.

"I could have ordered you away," Merlin grumbled back.

"Maybe you should stay here," snapped Arthur.

Merlin dropped his fork with a clatter and leaned back in his chair. "I'm returning to Camelot. Are you changing your mind about having me burnt at the stake? Because I'm following you. Whether you agree or not. This may be my house, but Camelot is my home."

Arthur jumped out of his chair and sailed to the window. He stood looking out while Merlin finished his breakfast. Finally, he turned around. "Let's go home, Merlin. Where things make sense."

Chapter Text

Arthur nervously entered his Father's audience chamber. Not that he would show nerves in front of the assembled court, he'd learned to hide them well as a small boy, but that didn't stop him from feeling like one.

The trip home had been miserable. It had rained nearly the entire time. Merlin's knights, less Sir Wallach, had accompanied them as far as the ferry crossing at the border, where they'd been obliged to stay the night and haggle with the proprietor of the local inn over housing the drivers of the lead wagons and their escorts. The wagons were specially reinforced to take the weight of their loads and would have to be traded back and forth across the border. The innkeep was none too keen on housing Camelot citizens on the Ergyng side of the border. Arthur didn't particularly want them on the Ergyng side of the border either, but he liked having Ergynings on the Camelot side even less. Besides which, this was the best crossing for their purpose and the inn was on the Ergyng side. Trading off drivers and escorts here made sense.

They finally agreed that Lord Emrys would supply the materials to build a separate house for the Camelotians on the inn's property and the inn would keep the house supplied at Camelot's expense. More materials would be supplied to build a bigger barn and larger fenced yard for the horses, as they expected to trade two wagons at a time with at least six escorts and there just wouldn't have been nearly enough room in the existing facilities.

By the time they had left, the innkeeper was planning to hire another man to help with the increased trade and he and the ferryman were both counting up their potential profits.

Uther waited for his son now in front of his low throne, the relief on his face at Arthur's return giving the Prince courage.

"Arthur," said the King, stepping forward. "I trust your trip went well."

"It was… interesting, Father, but I managed to secure a treaty that I'm confident will provide Camelot the iron resources we require."

"Excellent!" exclaimed Uther. "And how did you find the Queen?"

"Cunning," said Arthur, "and a master diplomatist."

"I trust your disguise held," said Uther, frowning.

"Not even for a moment, Sire," said Arthur. "She already knew what I looked like. I fear Ergyng has better informants here than we have there."

"No doubt. It's been impossible to get any reliable information out of that benighted land. What did she want?" asked Uther, showing the first sign of concern.

"To drive a wedge between you and me," answered Arthur. "I am hopeful you will not allow the treaty I've brought back to be that wedge."

Uther gestured towards Merlin, who was back in the clothes he had left Camelot in and carrying a leather bound folio before him, clearly the treaty under discussion. Merlin stepped toward the King in response, but Uther made no move to take the folio from him. Instead he asked Arthur, "The terms?"

"The terms are excellent," said Arthur, "but the treaty is not between Camelot and Ergyng."

"Explain," growled Uther.

Arthur said heavily, "Queen Rhea refuses to countenance any treaty with Camelot while you are King. Instead she offered to allow me to negotiate a treaty between myself, as Lord Llogyr and one of her lords."

Uther snorted. "A feather in your cap then. No doubt you will make a great deal of profit off the deal."

"That wasn't my intent, Father," said Arthur quickly.

"Arthur, do you think I am angry with you?" asked Uther with a low chuckle. "I'm proud of you, my boy. I've no more wish to deal with Rhea than she has to deal with me. If you make a profit out of saving me an onerous chore, so much the better. Tell me about this lord she's saddled you with."

Surprised, Arthur answered, "Well, he's young, a little younger than I am actually. He's not a knight and is newly come to his honors. He's taken the estates of Lord Morveryn."

"Lord Morveryn?" asked Uther, looking at Arthur sharply. "Lord Morveryn was a sorcerer, a powerful one. One of my goals during our war with Ergyng was to make certain he didn't survive. I was disappointed he did. If he's dead, all to the good, but this new Lord is likely to be another sorcerer."

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "No, Father. No, I'm sure he's not. Dabbles in medicine. Fancies himself something of a scholar, I believe."

Uther shook his head. "There is magic on that estate, Arthur. Artifacts, books, if nothing else, but like draws to like and there's sure to be sorcerers living there."

"I visited the estate, Father…"

"You visited?" demanded Uther, dismayed at the thought.

"I was invited, Father," Arthur answered firmly. "It was fine, no one threatened us. In fact, Lord Emrys had to calm his people repeatedly, they were so frightened just by our presence."

Uther snorted. "Well and good if they're frightened by our knights."

"Terrified," Arthur assured him. "But Emrys was able to reassure the crowds and they appear to adore him. He seems to be a popular leader."

Uther ground his teeth. "He must be a sorcerer then. It's what those fools respect. Watch out for him, Arthur. If he's so young, it's unlikely he's mastered much power yet, but that doesn't mean he's not dangerous."

Arthur pursed his lips angrily. "I assure you, Sire, I didn't let my guard down a moment while we were across the border."

Uther looked at his son directly. "I am only concerned for you. Rhea sees nothing wrong in using magic to accomplish her aims." Uther clapped his son on the shoulder. "I'm pleased you've come home safely, Arthur. You've done well. You'll tell me more of your adventures at dinner. For now, I know you'll want to wash off the dust of the road."

"Thank you, Sire. I'm glad you're pleased," said Arthur, bowing to the King at the dismissal.

Merlin handed over the treaty to the Seneschal and followed his master to his chambers. "That went… well," he said in relief, once he'd closed the door behind them.

Arthur had gone straight to the window and opened it. "It went poorly and I'm going to be sidestepping my Father all evening for your sake. How do you get me into these messes, Merlin?"

"By being your good and faithful servant and bending to your every need, my Lord?" asked Merlin cheekily.

Arthur turned from the window and surveyed his servant dangerously. "Come here, Merlin," he purred.

"What?" asked Merlin warily.

Arthur rolled a finger at him until Merlin approached him and then pulled out the chair at his desk. "Sit down."

"No thanks," Merlin demurred, side-eyed.

"Sit," commanded the Prince.

Merlin took the seat suspiciously.

Arthur leaned down with his hand on the back of the chair. "Time to start your lessons."

"Lessons?" asked Merlin nervously.

"Yes, Merlin. If you're going to be a Lord, you need to know something about law and politics. I thought we'd start with the Historia Brittonum," Arthur pick up one book and then another, "and then move on to Commentaries on the Twelve Tables and On the Ruin and Conquest of Brittain. Gildas is such a fatalist but he has an excellent grasp of who started what."

"And when am I supposed to read all this?" asked Merlin, distraught.

Arthur tipped his head wryly. "While you're polishing my armor, dusting, darning my socks. Anytime your hands are busy and your mind isn't. Don't take my books to the stables though. I don't want you dropping them in the muck."

Merlin grimaced. "My new favorite chore."

Arthur clapped him on the arm. "Cheer up. You're a lord now. That has to count for something doesn't it?" Arthur disappeared behind his changing screen to clean off the road dust.

"About as much as any of my other titles," grumbled Merlin quietly.