Chapter Text
There was going to be a tournament. Again.
Merlin honestly could not understand noble’s love for tournaments. Uther arranged one so often that Merlin had learned to know every single piece of Arthur’s armour very closely. He had to polish and clean it all the time because Arthur had a training with his knights almost every day. Sometimes some other knights gave their equipment for Merlin to care, too. Because ‘other servants are too busy’. During a tournament Merlin’s hand was pretty much permanently attached to polishing tools and grindstones.
But really, his growing workload was not his only problem. It was guaranteed that among the participants was always some revengeful, violent lunatic, who was not going to play fairly. There was always someone who wanted to see Arthur Pendragon dead, and Uther Pendragon devastated. Someone, who most likely had gone through sorrow and heartbreak because of the King.
And that “someone” was usually a witch or a wizard. And who was the only one who could protect Arthur from them? Oh, yes, it was Merlin.
So it was not a wonder that then Uther declared once again that he was going to organize yet another tournament, Merlin groaned a bit too loudly and thus everyone in the room turned to look at him. That included the King and the Prince, former looking furious and latter amused. When Merlin did his best to hide behind a nearby pillar, Gaius explained calmly that Merlin had forgotten to take his medicine that morning.
”How can you hate tournaments that much?” Arthur asked him later, when they were alone in his rooms. Merlin stood one the other side of a dressing screen and picked clothes from the floor as Arthur threw them carelessly over the screen. “I thought that these sorts of events would be nice for servants, too. Duty variation and all that.”
”Yes, it is nice for servants,” Merlin agreed. Most of them did look forward to this tournament. “But not for me. Have you ever counted how many different pieces all your armours consist of? I don’t even understand why it has to be so blindingly shiny, it is going to be covered in mud or dirt in about two first minutes.”
“That’s because, Mer-lin, I’m the Prince, as you might have noticed. And it may come as a surprise to you, but I cannot walk into the arena while wearing a shabby equipment,” Arthur explained as he stepped forth, bare-chested and wearing his night trousers.
”I still don’t understand why the king wants to organize tournaments so often,” Merlin said behind a huge pile of clothes, which had materialized in his hands. “Is it really so important to figure out who is the best one to keep a sword in his hands, or who can stay on a horse the longest?”
”My gods, Merlin, you’re such a girl sometimes,” Arthur groaned dramatically.
’Maybe I am, would you like to check?’ the dangerous thought came into Merlin’s mind and he shook his head to clear it off. Stupid, stupid Merlin, he thought then. Like you don’t have enough secrets to keep from Arthur as it is.
”It is important, you idiot,” the prince continued, “because that is how we peacefully clarify to all other kingdoms – our potential enemies – which kingdom possesses the best fighter.”
”And that’s you,” Merlin said tiredly.
”And that’s me. Good, you’re starting to learn.”
“But can you bring up a one tournament which has gone without any disturbance or real danger? One time, when none of the participants had not been eager to actually kill you? I certainly cannot.”
Arthur rolled his eyes, like it was Merlin who was being a big hardship for him. “But here I am, alive and whole, am I not? Don’t worry, everything will go just well, as always.”
It was one of those moments when Merlin heartfeltly wished that he would have been able to bring up one tiny little detail; he was the reason why Arthur was alive and whole at that moment. Instead, he bit his tongue and kept silent.
“But it is very touching that you apparently care about my wellbeing so deeply,” Arthur mocked. He smirked in that annoying way only he was able. “I’m flattered.”
”Oh, shut up!”
Merlin murmured. He took a pillow and threw it half-heartedly to Arthur’s face. “I’m more worried about my own wellbeing here.”
“Admit it,” Arthur said while he yawned lazily. “Your sensitive heart would broke if something bad happened to me.”
Merlin didn’t say anything to this, because what could have he said? He would have been lying if he had said it wouldn’t break him to see Arthur suffering, or dead. Because it truly would break him, badly. And this wasn’t because some dragon and its talk about destiny. Merlin had (for some unfathomable reason) become fond of the prince over the time. Maybe ’fond’ was a bit too mild a term, but Merlin decisively didn’t dwell on it too much.
“Oh yes, I almost forgot,” Arthur said then, as he crawled under the fine covers of his bed. “You have to sharpen my sword before you turn in. I have a training first thing in the morning. And don’t be late!”
Merlin let out a suffering sight and grimaced, but unfortunately Arthur was already half asleep and didn’t see him. He made sure to make as much noise as he could when he gathered the dirty clothes and picked the sword from the table. He slammed the door behind him as he left Arthur’s rooms.
”You look terrible,” Gwen commented the next morning, while they were collecting breakfast for their master and mistress.
”Thanks,” Merlin grunted. He knew he must have looked horrible, but he had still hoped that no one else would notice it.
Usually Gwen would have been sorry for her straightforwardness, but this time even she didn’t bother. “Did you sleep at all last night?” she asked.
”No. First, I had to sharpen Arthur’s sword. Then some poor servant came to the armoury, carrying an armful of weapons and equipment. I couldn’t just leave him there to do all that work alone. When I finally got home, Gaius didn’t even spare a look, as he was tending a patient, who needed urgent treatment. So, I couldn’t just go to sleep, as someone was fighting for her life in the next room. So, I helped Gaius. We managed to save his patient, which was good, at least. By then, it was dawn.” Merlin rubbed his eyes. ”I can barely walk straight. Or keep my eyes open.”
“Poor you,” Gwen said sincerely. “If you just tell Arthur about your night, he could lighten your workload today. I’m sure he—"
”Understands?” Merlin laughed humourlessly as he took a tray from a cook. “I don’t think so. He is so excited about that bloody tournament that he won’t probably even notice my eyebags which will probably hang around my chin by tomorrow.”
Gwen’s expression cleared. ”Oh, yes, the tournament! Morgana is so excited about them, too! May I please get some strawberries, too,” she added to the cook, who looked sour, but handed her a basketful of strawberries anyway.
“She is?” Merlin asked, incredulous. “I imagined that Morgana scorns to this sort of things.”
It was not that Morgana didn’t think that fighting skills were important: everyone knew that it was an advantageous in battles and wars. Fighters kept the kingdom safe. But it was very clear what Morgana thought about proud, muscle flexing men and women, and those who blindly admired them. She tended to appreciate the qualities of the mind: kindness, nobleness and righteousness.
“She usually does, but didn’t you hear what the king told us yesterday?” Gwen asked.
When Merlin shook his head, Gwen sighed and sounded eerily like Merlin’s mother when he had done something to earn her disapproval as a child.
”This time, women can participate, too. Only noble women, of course, but still.”
How had Merlin missed this piece of information? Oh yes, because his brain had frozen as soon as the word “tournament” has been said. He hadn’t really listened after that.
”Why does Uther let women compete too? He has always said, that it is not for women. Their role is to stand prettily in the audience and cheer on their favourites, according to him,” he asked. They walked along the corridors now, carrying the trays.
“I’m not certain, but I think the lady Morgana has something to do with it,” Gwen said, sounding quite proud about her head-strong mistress. “But she is very enthusiastic about it, anyway.”
”So, she is going to participate?” Merlin asked, feeling his already existing terror rising even more. Not only would the king’s son fight against all sorts of frauds and imposters, but also the king’s ward? Merlin was not going to survive through this.
“Of course!” Gwen said happily, oblivious to her friend’s agony. “You know, if Morgana just got a chance, I think she would be better with a sword than Arthur. They trained together when they were kids, until the king decided that Morgana must start behaving like women should. But naturally Morgana continued her training in secret. I believe that she is one of the best fighters in Camelot. But she will not fight against Arthur, as there are different groups for men and women.”
“Do you think a lot of women will participate? I somehow find it hard to believe that there are that many women, who had been trained to fight.”
Gwen looked him like he was a bit slow. “Merlin, you’re forgetting now that many high-ranking men prefer their daughters learning to fight than buying them the most expensive dresses and elegant hairdos. And most of the female participants are likely from Caerleon. There, people are taught to stand for themselves, regardless of their gender.” She sounded little wistful. She was a blacksmith’s daughter and had admired all sorts of swords and armours but had never learned to use them. Camelot was not a place for women who wanted to do “men’s work”.
(It was not a place for sorcerers, either, so Merlin didn’t really have the right criticise women if they wanted to change things. Not that he wanted to.)
”Well, I guess that means that you will have your hands full too in the near future. I assume you are Morgana’s squire and take care of her armour,” Merlin said and felt a bit better. At least he could share his misery with a friend.
”It’s my pleasure to help my lady,” Gwen said, loyal as ever. “See you later!”
They continued to different directions; Gwen turned to left and Merlin kept going straight ahead.
“See you!” Merlin called out. He ran the rest of the way, dodging all other people walking on the hallway. He didn’t think he was late yet, but if he was not on Arthur’s rooms as the prince opened his eyes, he would get annoying reprimands all morning.
To his great relief Arthur was still in deep sleep when he stepped in. He closed the door behind him and put the tray quietly on the table. He was just doing to open the curtains and yell ‘good morning!’ loudly, but he stopped in halfway.
Because Arthur was sleeping in his royal bed, lying on his back. Looking utterly angelic.
It was not a secret that everyone considered Arthur attractive man. He himself knew it very well. But usually Arthur was classically handsome with his masculine features and muscles. Usually his light hair didn’t look as golden in the morning sunlight. Usually his eyelashes didn’t look so long against his cheeks. Usually he didn’t look so calm, serene and so… human.
Of course, Merlin was one of the few people who knew that Arthur was not so superhumanly miraculous as everyone else seemed to think he was. But during that moment, Arthur was looking so normal, like he was just a young man with enormous responsibility. Not so unlike Merlin.
This serenity broke a moment later as Arthur suddenly turned his head and opened his heavy, blue eyes. His gaze immediately fixated on Merlin, who was still standing in the middle of the room.
”Mm-Merlin,” Arthur said as he yawned and rubbed his eyes. “What are you doing?”
”Um,” Merlin said, trying to come up with some reasonable excuse.
”I know that I’m very handsome sight even as I am asleep, but that sort of behaviour is still quite disturbing,” Arthur said as he sat up and smirked smugly.
”Don’t be stupid,” Merlin said quickly, as Arthur’s teasing hit pretty close to the truth. “You were… mumbling something in your sleep. I tried to hear what you were saying,” he lied.
I seemed like Arthur froze for a second, but it might have been just Merlin’s imagination. “Really? Well, what was I saying, then?” Arthur asked. He almost sounded cautious under his carefree tone.
“I couldn’t make sense of it,” Merlin said and desperately tried to change the subject. “Your breakfast is on the table.”
He went to open the curtains and Arthur slouched to sit and eat. “In time, at once…” he heard the prince mumbling and Merlin smiled.
” I talked with Gwen,” Merlin said and sat down opposite side of the table. Arthur looked little annoyed but offered him a piece of bread all the same. “And she said that women are allowed to take part in this upcoming tournament.”
Arthur was just taking a bite of his apple but lowered it, so he could give a laugh. “You idiot, father just announced it yesterday! You were there and complained loudly and Gaius had to save your arse, once again, remember?”
Merlin scowled. ”Yes, I remember. I just missed that particular detail.”
”Surprising. What about it?”
"Why Uther did decide to do this? He never lets women fight. I always thought he was against it.”
”A man can change.”
"Arthur."
"What?"
"Morgana?"
"Okay, it was Morgana," Arthur admitted. “She has harped on about it for years. She says she has many lady friends in other kingdoms and they would like to show their skills in fighting. Father is just trying to be diplomatic; he knows it will please the fathers of said ladies.”
Woah, Morgana truly has Uther wrapped around her little finger, Merlin thought.
”And how do you feel about it?” he asked, curious.
Arthur shrugged. ”I feel quite indifferent about it. It doesn’t affect my participation or me.”
”Thanks gods for that, it would take weeks for your ego to heal if you lost to a woman,” Merlin chuckled.
”I did not mean that!”
“Well, there’s no shame in that. You did say once that it’s strategy which matters, not physical strength.”
”And I have both, so stop trying to imply that I would lose to anyone!” Arthur said, and his tone suggested that he was about to lose his temper. It was quite amusing how quickly he could heat up when someone said anything about him being less than perfect in something.
”Which of us is the sensate one,” Merlin mumbled. Arthur either didn’t hear that or decided to ignore him.
”People start to arrive during the next three days,” Arthur said instead.
”Let me guess: you are selflessly offering my help to them?” Merlin said. He was actually hoping that he would be ordered to temporarily serve someone else. Maybe he would be able to notice if someone was planning to do any harm before the tournament itself started.
But of course, this was the one time it didn’t happen. “By no means,” Arthur said. “On the contrary, I will need your help almost around the clock. Other participants will have their own servants with them as they arrive. They don’t need you to be stumbling to your own legs and ruining their equipment.”
”But you do?”
”I’m hoping you would at least try not to embarrass yourself and me. Take this as an opportunity to show me that you can be a decent servant.” Arthur said and poured a full goblet of water down his throat. Then he stood up and headed towards the dressing screen. He ruffled Merlin’s hair as he passed.
He really must be excited about this, Merlin thought.
As usual, there was a big banquet before the start of the tournament. And this time, it truly was big: participants had arrived from neighbouring kingdoms and they all were there, along with their servants and companions. The formal reason for such a banquet was to have a friendly conversation and get to know new people. The real reason, Arthur had told Merlin, was to try and determine opponents’ weaknesses and strengths. If one kept their head clear and sober, that is.
People had arrived in Camelot in a steady flow during last couple of days. The King and the Prince had to receive every single one of them properly, which of course had meant a lot of work for Merlin. He had washed and fixed clothes, shined boots, helped Arthur to choose suitable combination of clothes and in all ways tried to polish the Prince to look presentable. First, he had considered this to be waste of time and just plain silly, but he had actually really enjoyed it. He liked dressing Arthur and combing his hair. He was good at it: he knew what fit Arthur the best and what colour made his eyes pop. It gratified him when Arthur looked in a mirror and nodded approvingly.
For the banquet Merlin had chosen a dark blue tunic, black trousers and Arthur’s least-used dark boots. He had Arthur to sit down and spent a good moment to groom his hair (this ended when Arthur huffed and took the comb off his hand). Then Merlin had carefully placed Arthur’s crown on his head, stepped back and admired his work.
”Very good,” Arthur had said, and it hadn’t been just his typical boasting: he had praised Merlin. He had put his ceremonial sword to its holster on his waist and they had walked, Merlin a few steps behind Arthur, to the Great Hall.
The hall was crammed, and the tables were full of food. The castle’s kitchen had exceeded itself. But the most notable was the number of women in the Hall. It wasn’t that unusual that about half of the people in a banquet were women, but the feeling in the room was different. Women were not simply servants, wives and daughters: this time, they were knights and squires. Merlin spotted the Lady Morgana, who sat on her usual place on the left side of the King. She was, however, turned away from Uther and conversed lively with other ladies. Merlin supposed they were the friends Gwen had mentioned.
Arthur sat down to his place on the right side of his father and Merlin stood behind him, ready to serve his master. Out of all women around Morgana, Merlin was able to eventually find one familiar maid. Gwen looked as relieved to see him as he was to see her. She hurried next to him.
”They are so excited! It’s a bit hard to handle at times,” she said, but smiled all the same. “I’m not used to this.”
Uther stood up and kept a mercifully short speech and welcomed everyone to Camelot. During this, all settled down and the Great Hall became silent. Merlin looked around and wondered how all those composed women in pretty dresses would turn out to be fierce knights. But Merlin had also learned not to underestimate women, in good or bad.
Some of the male knights clearly had not learned this: they were whispering not-so-subtly to each other and some were even openly pointing female contestants and laughed. None of the women paid any attention to them, but Merlin noticed Morgana’s expression had hardened ominously.
Uther ended his speech to toasting. The nobles raised their goblets and then started the eating.
And drinking. Even servants were allowed to drink little ale, and although it was the poorest quality, it fulfilled its purpose: made everyone drunk. Gwen stayed away from the ale, and Merlin followed her example, as he knew he would get drunk very easily. He didn’t particularly want to embarrass himself in front of everyone. Merlin was also sure that Arthur probably wouldn’t think the same and would need some help by the end of the night. Better that one of them was to be sober.
Also, Merlin was still feeling uneasy: he wanted to be able evaluate people and find the possible threat.
”Merlin, you have just stood there all night. Even the statues are having more fun than you,” Gwen told him at some point. She was breathy, and her cheeks were red.
”Where have you been?” Merlin asked.
”Morgana insisted that I danced with her. What are you staring at?”
Merlin sighed and thought that he might as well tell her. “I’m trying to find the one who wants to kill Arthur this time.”
The smile disappeared from Gwen’s face. “What? How do you know that someone wants to do that?” she asked, alarmed.
”Well, I don’t,” Merlin admitted. “But there’s always someone in these sorts of events who has something else in their mind than just an honest fight and – ouch!”
Gwen had slapped his arm lightly. “You scared me! So Arthur’s life is not in danger? Or anyone else’s?”
”Gwen, can you remember a single tournament during which Arthur’s life was not in danger at some point? I don’t, and this time, I’m ready.”
”Ready? For what?” Gwen asked incredulously. “Merlin I know you’re… devoted to Arthur and feel like you are in some way responsible for his safety, but—”
“I’m not devoted to Arthur,” Merlin said, way too quickly to be believable.
”Yes you are, come on now, Merlin. I’m just trying to say that Arthur’s safety is not your responsibility. The castle is full of guards and loyal knights and it is their job to keep him safe.”
Oh, Gwen, if you only knew. Merlin changed tactics.
“But what about Morgana?”
Gwen frowned. “What about her?”
“If there was someone who would wished to harm her, maybe to get their revenge to Uther or something… Would you not try to do everything in your power to make sure she was safe? Even if it’s not your official duty?” Merlin asked.
”I… well, of course I would, she’s my friend, too. But I am just… me,” Gwen said quietly, her gaze falling down to the floor.
Merlin stared at her, not knowing what to do. Before he could come up with something to say, someone bumped into him.
“Oh, sorry!” said a strange woman. Based on her clothes (grey, simple dress and worn out shirt) Merlin deduced that she was someone’s servant. “I think I’ve drink a bit too much,” she continued apologetically.
”It’s okay, it’s pretty cramped here, anyway,” Merlin reassured her and smiled. She looked a bit like Morgana with her pale skin and her raven-black hair, but she was too shy and mousy to truly remind him of the confident lady.
”I’m Merlin and this here is Gwen,” Merlin said and Gwen smiled and gave a little wave. “We are from Camelot. What about you?”
”My name is Lynnet,” the girl said. “And I’m from Gawant. I serve the lady Odelia.”
”Lady Odelia? I presume she is one of the participants?” Gwen said and watched around curiously. “Is she around somewhere?”
”She and her bother are here to compete. They are easy to recognise, they both have red hair. My lady’s bother is called Lord Nevan,” Lynnet said. She spoke quietly and hesitantly, so Merlin and Gwen had to lean in to hear her.
Merlin was the tallest of them, so he turned around and eventually spotted a woman, who had a very distinguishable red hair. Lady Odelia was lean but looked like she had been trained her whole life. Even a long-sleeved dress couldn’t cover up the fact that she was muscular and strong. Lady Odelia didn’t dance wildly like other noble women did, but sat behind a table, holding a goblet. Her face was stoic and serious, and she truly didn’t fit in the cheerful, drunken party that was happening around her.
”I can see her, I believe,” Merlin told Lynnet. “Is she alright? She seems a bit… distant.”
”She’s just nervous,” Lynnet said quickly. “It’s her first time fighting in a tournament, and many are expecting a lot from her. And she is expecting a lot from herself.”
”Oh dear, I hope she doesn’t stress too much now,” Gwen said.
Merlin was on tip-toes again, now trying to spot Lord Nevan. He didn’t have to search for long. A man who had as flaming red hair as his sister, was standing next to a wall, surprisingly far away from lady Odelia. Nevan looked a bit more relaxed than his sister: he clapped along with songs and smiled but didn’t take part of singing and dancing himself.
Nevan was quite short and slender man. For some reason, his clothes were a bit too big for him. Maybe he is ashamed that he isn’t as muscular as the other participants and tried to cover it, Merlin thought. Or there was an incompetent tailor in Gawant.
”It’s also lord Nevan’s first time. He is very young,” Lynnet said. Then she seemed to realize something. “Oh, but you didn’t tell who you serve?”
Right. Arthur. Merlin had almost forgotten about him, but he wasn’t hard to find, either. Arthur was sitting by his own spot and seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep. Merlin had seen him a little while ago dancing but apparently, he had finally reached his limit.
“I’m serving a man who is just about to start snoring on a table. Good night you both, see you around Lynnet!” Merlin said quickly and left two women behind him as hurried back to work. And by work he meant dragging Arthur away from public place before he embarrassed himself.
”Arthur,” he said and shook the prince lightly. “We should probably go now.”
”I’m not even drunk,” Arthur slurred and Merlin rolled his eyes.
”Of course not. Up we go.”
It took some time and effort, but Merlin was eventually able to get Arthur up and moving. He leaned on Merlin heavily as they made their slow way towards the door. Merlin briefly wondered if he should let Uther know that Arthur was going to turn in, but the King was speaking to some man at the moment and Merlin really didn’t feel like interrupting their conversation.
Uther seemed to be quite intoxicated himself, so Merlin just lead Arthur quietly to the corridors.
Soon, he heard high-heeled shoes clicking behind him.
“Let me help you,” lady Morgana said and put Arthur’s other arm around her shoulders.
“You don’t have to—” Merlin started, but Morgana shushed him.
“The faster we get him to his rooms, the less he is going to make a fool out of himself. Though it seems a little late to save him from that.”
Together they managed to get semiconscious Arthur up the stairs and dragged him along the quiet corridors.
“Did you enjoy the party, my lady?” Merlin asked to break the silence.
“Yes, I did, tremendously,” Morgana said earnestly. “These sorts of relaxed events are so rare nowadays. I am so fed up with stuck-up, formal feasts and parties. What about you? I think I saw you enjoying some time with Gwen.”
“Yes, I talked with her and one other servant,” Merlin told her.
“I saw her, too. Very pretty.” Morgana’s tone was awful close to suggestive.
“Um, I suppose,” Merlin said, feeling suddenly awkward.
"Urrmmh," said Arthur.
“You will regret this tomorrow,” Morgana told him, to which Arthur just moaned something obscure. “I do not understand why men must drink themselves to this condition every time. I guess it is in their nature,” she said to Merlin, who briefly thought about getting offended about the fact that Morgana apparently didn’t consider him to be a man, but he let it slide.
(Also, most of the women in the Great Hall had been very drunk, too, but Merlin didn’t mention that either. It was weirdly hard to contradict Morgana.)
”Or women are just taking this more seriously. This is the first change to many of us to show our skills in this sort of public event. No one can afford to weaken themselves by heavy drinking,” Morgana continued. “Many of them are so nervous they couldn’t even have fun tonight.”
That made Merlin think about the red-haired siblings. “Is the lady Odelia one of your friends?” he asked.
Morgana thought for a moment and then shook her head. “Not, the name doesn’t sound familiar at all. Who is she?”
”She and her brother arrived from Gawant and are here to fight in their first tournament. They both seemed very nervous, especially the lady,” Merlin told her. “The servant I talked to was hers.”
”Oh, Merlin,” Morgana sighed and dragged Arthur’s arm better around her shoulders. “Are you truly going to find out about every single participants’ background?”
”What?” Merlin asked, confused.
“I know you care about this idiot more than he truly deserves,” Morgana said and indicated towards Arthur. “And it is not unusual for him to get himself in danger. But Merlin, please do not take this on your shoulders. Your loyalty is admirable, but you cannot take responsibility about Arthur’s safety.”
”That’s what Gwen said, too. But I don’t understand. I would never say this to him, or probably anyone, but I do consider him as my friend. Why wouldn’t I wish to keep him safe? Besides, Gawant is a peaceful kingdom and its King is Uther’s friend. I’m not looking for suspects.”
(Well, that was not entirely true: he was looking for suspects, but he didn’t have any reason to believe that Odelia or Nevan were dangerous.)
They finally arrived in front of Arthur’s door, and Morgana dropped his arm from her shoulders. “You can manage the rest, I hope. You are a good person, Merlin. Arthur values you too little,” she said and gave a suffering look towards the scatterbrained prince.
”Thanks,” Merlin said, not knowing what else to say.
”That’s just a fact,” Morgana said seriously. “Good night to you!”
And so Morgana turned and swept away, leaving Merlin to handle Arthur, who was barely conscious at that point.