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IV: Protecting a Lady Hawk (Part 1)

As a general rule, royalty and nobility alike cared little for servants and commoners in a capacity as anything other than one who serves. Until Merlin had intervened with Arthur's life, Camelot's Crown Prince believed much the same.

(He could not say with certainty that he was grateful to be proven wrong; certainly not to his manservant. As always, though, there was just something about Merlin, and he had not returned to that way of thinking since.)

After acknowledging as much, to promise Gaius his protection for Merlin was among the easiest and most natural vows he had ever made. Especially when Gaius himself was incapable of providing it.

(It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Arthur wanted to do it):

In later years, Arthur rather suspected he might shake his head over the scene currently playing out in front of him—and his inability to absolve it.

As Merlin once more tearfully embraced Gaius (really, his manservant could be such a girl ), Arthur shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, actively not-listening to their conversation and uneasily eyeing the archway behind him.

Reluctantly, he cleared his throat, "Merlin…" he began, cognizant of the restless shifting of the guards nearby, and received a ferocious glare for all his trouble.

Rolling his eyes, Arthur warned, "Merlin."

And winced, as Merlin's expression crumpled. The younger man turned back to their mentor, " Gaius ," his manservant's voice choked on the plea.

Arthur grimaced impatiently, and immediately felt wretched for it, but they really did need to leave. Under no circumstances did Arthur want to expose Merlin to Aredian when he was this vulnerable, and both Aredian and his father would surely be here soon.

Gaius must have seen his expression, because he smiled sadly and bent to whisper something in Merlin's ear, before firmly stepping back and releasing him with a gentle push in Arthur's direction.

Arthur took that as his cue to step forward and pull Merlin away from the elderly physician.

He tried not to be hurt when Merlin roughly shrugged off his hands and all but fled the dungeon.

Cursing under his breath and praying Aredian was well away from here, Arthur hurriedly slammed the cell door shut and locked it.

He had just turned to bolt after Merlin when a familiarly wrinkled hand reached through the bars and gently grabbed his elbow, "Take care of him, Arthur."

Arthur suddenly had trouble focusing on Gaius's face. He dropped his eyes to the physician's hand instead and swallowed thickly, trying to ignore how all the colors around him blurred together. He wet his lips, "You never had to ask," whispered. Blinking his surroundings back into focus, he looked up and locked his gaze fiercely with the dear, tired blue-green eyes watching him intently, "Really, you never did. You could have asked anything of me, Gaius, anything at all, and I would have answered the same. I…I don't know how to stop Aredian, but I….maybe I can talk to my father…"

Gaius's smile turned mostly humorless, "You and I both know your father is intolerant of magic in all its forms, Your Highness."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Arthur nodded heavily.

Gaius's hand tightened, his hold comforting, "I am an old man, Arthur. I have lived my life as best as I can, and I can now say that it had some meaning. Do not hurt your right to the crown by attempting to help me."

"Gaius…" Arthur's throat closed. Even with his beloved mentor, Arthur could not ask, What about Merlin?

Gaius knew what he intended to say regardless. A true smile touched the elderly physician's lips, "Happily, he has you. You will find, Arthur, that there is very little he won't do for you."

Arthur had not been able to refute Gaius. He knew it all too well. In the end, he had only been able to nod and (not) rush after Merlin.

At least, he intended to (not) rush after Merlin, but his manservant had since fled the-gods-knew-where.

"It would be just my luck if the fool somehow got himself accused again," Arthur muttered, determinedly not contemplating what that might mean for his rather (at the moment) fragile nerves.

The memory of Merlin's absence during the whole Catrina diabolical was never far from his heart, after all. Arthur could readily admit (even if only to himself) that he would be unable to withstand a second absence like that again.

(And when had Merlin become almost as important as his own father?)

Perhaps because his thoughts revolved around Merlin to a worrying degree, it should not have startled him as much as it did when he discovered his feet (without his blessing) had taken him to said manservant's (and their mentor's) chambers.

Only, they did not look much like chambers anymore. They looked like a debris field after battle: potion bottles shattered on flagstones, books with their pages ripped out and scattered across the floor, tables overturned and their contents tossed to the ground, and in the midst of it all—oh, gods, was his heart supposed to hurt this much?—in the midst of it all, on his knees, was his missing manservant.

Arthur barely recognized his voice as his own as he choked out, "Mer…Merlin!"

The prince had barely processed his legs' movement before he abruptly found himself kneeling knee to knee with the younger man.

For once, he did not try to control the fierce protective instinct that rose in his gut, reaching out with one hand to gently cup the back of Merlin's skull.

Merlin, who had been gazing vacantly out over the shambles of the life he and Gaius had built, immediately snapped his attention to the pained countenance of his prince: "I am so sorry, Merlin," Arthur murmured achingly. "I am so, so sorry."

Gods above and below, but Merlin had to be the strongest man he'd ever met (not that he would ever admit that to the man in question), as from the depths of his soul, said manservant summoned forth a shaky smile, "I must have hit my head on the way in, because there is no other explanation for why Arthur Pendragon just apologized to little ol' me."

It would have earned Merlin a ferocious scowl, had his composure not betrayed him: the smile wavered, cracked, and a lonely flush of tears wended their way down his cheek.

Almost straightaway, Arthur grabbed the sleeve of his free hand and brusquely scrubbed it across Merlin's wet face, "Commit it to memory," he muttered gruffly, "because you will not be hearing it again."

(Actually, he probably would, but Arthur, despite what he liked to claim, was no omniscient.)

Gently bracing his thumbs against Merlin's damp cheeks, Camelot's Crown Prince seriously met his manservant's eyes, "I'll talk to my father, Merlin. I…can't promise it will work—in fact, it probably won't—but…" Arthur took a deep breath, "Gaius deserves better than this. I…I have to try, but I don't-"

Shaking his head, Merlin bowed it and shut his eyes, reaching up to tightly grip Arthur's hands. For a moment, the prince feared he would rip them away, but the moment passed and Arthur found their fingers had actually interwoven in place against Merlin's cheeks.

As long as he lived, Arthur would never admit that he cried a little, too, that day.

End Protecting a Lady Hawk (Part 1)

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IV: Protecting a Lady Hawk (Part 2)

Two mornings after Aredian's timely fall from the tower of the keep, Arthur (as usual) found himself awoken by a cheery, "Rise and shine, Your Highness!" and an irritatingly bright slant of sunlight beaming directly into his eyes.

"Merlin," he groaned, still more than half-asleep and batting vaguely at the hovering face of his (utterly infuriating) manservant.

Laughing, Merlin danced out of reach, far too gracefully for someone who was supposed to be inherently clumsy, "Come on, Your Highness, up and out of bed. You have training with your knights this morning, remember? You know you don't like being late for that-"

"You are the one who is never on time, Merlin," Arthur grumbled irritably, nevertheless shoving his linens back with a half-hearted groan (actually, Merlin had been unnervingly punctual these last few days, but Arthur had no intention of drawing his attention to it.) "How are you so bloody chirper in the mornings?"

Merlin grinned, "Talent, Your Highness."

Hauling himself upright, Arthur peeled open an eye to glower balefully at his manservant, "Stop that."

Merlin paused where he flitted around Arthur's wardrobe, brow creased in confusion, "Stop what, Your Highness?"

"That," Arthur stated emphatically, jabbing his finger at Merlin.

Sorely puzzled, Merlin frowned and opened his mouth to respond, but Arthur shook his head, "That…'Your Highness.' You haven't called me that in months, Merlin, why would you start now? It makes me feel like I've done something wrong…"

Merlin smirked and opened his mouth; Arthur interrupted him, "Don't you dare respond to that, Merlin!"

Laughing, Merlin retorted, "Certainly, Sire."

He ducked the pillow that came sailing at his head, "Shut up, you idiot!"

Smiling widely, Merlin bent to pick it up from the floor, "It will be as you say, My Prince."

Arthur just smothered his groan in the rest of the pillows scattered across his bed.

(In the privacy of his own, half-muddled thoughts, however, he did acknowledge that he had not actually minded that last address.)

Merlin's hand on his shoulder hauled him back upright, "Come on, Arthur, you really do need to get up."

Sighing, Camelot's young Crown Prince reluctantly conceded Merlin's point and allowed his manservant to drag him to his feet. "Are you supposed to be here today, Merlin?" he muttered, brow scrunching in confusion as something niggled at the back of his mind and he found himself towed towards his wardrobe.

Merlin stilled against his side and a glance to the right confirmed the rather rosy-cheeked countenance of the younger man, "Of course, Arthur," he murmured, not meeting the prince's eyes, "why wouldn't I be?" He smirked and lifted his head, quirking an eyebrow at the other man, "You might be delusional, you know. Shall I fetch you a potion?"

Arthur admitted it was a good cover up, but at this point, he knew his manservant far too well to fall for it, "You do know the penalty for lying to your prince, don't you?"

Merlin shifted, not quite able to mask the guilty expression that flitted across his face.

Arthur snorted and wordlessly touched Merlin's hand, causing his manservant to start, apparently surprised his hand had remained on Arthur's arm.

Shaking his head, the older man turned back to his wardrobe once Merlin released him, rubbing the last sleep from his eyes, "Well since you are here," he yawned, "where's my breakfast?"

Merlin's smile returned as his manservant took a step back and rolled his eyes, "I'll fetch it now, Your Highness."

"Merlin!"

Merlin's laughter followed him out into the corridor. Moments later, Arthur realized he had not, in fact, actually looked away from the door, and wore, in fact, a rather ridiculously pleased grin.

Promptly, he flushed, and firmly yanked his attention back to his wardrobe, choosing, instead, to focus on why he could not shake the sense that Merlin really should not have been the one to wake him.

(He also determinedly did not contemplate the reason why he was so ridiculously pleased his manservant had.)

IOIOIOIOIOI

It took Arthur the better part of breakfast to correctly conclude why: "You're supposed to have the day off!" blurted, just as he finished off the last rasher of bacon (and promptly choked on it).

Merlin stiffened where he had begun smoothing down the covers of Arthur's bed. Arthur, busy coughing, nonetheless noticed it.

Grabbing his water goblet, the prince quickly chased it down with a deep gulp of the cool liquid and allowed his coughing to subside before attempting to talk again, "You are the one always demanding a day off, why are you here?"

Merlin shrugged, keeping his gaze carefully fastened on Arthur's blanket, "I remembered halfway to your chambers and thought I ought to continue the rest of the way."

Arthur frowned. That seemed true enough, but…"How's Gaius? Surely you do not expect me to believe you would leave him on his own just to attend to me."

Merlin seemed uncertain about whether he should smile or frown, but at least he had lifted his head, "Ill. Exhausted. In pain-"

Arthur felt his stomach clench and hoped it did not show on his face, "I am sorry, Merlin. I did not realize he was that bad off. If only I had-"

Merlin's hand suddenly clamped gently over Arthur's mouth. The only betrayal of Arthur's startlement was the double-blink of his eyes.

Merlin smirked, "You didn't let me finish, you prat. I was going to say, he's also flung multiple damp cloths at my head over the course of the past hour and threatened to have me clean out his leech tank on no less than five separate occasions if I asked one more time whether he needed anything. I'd say he's on the mend."

Relieved, Arthur chuckled as Merlin's hand slid away.

He almost did not notice its downward motion slowing until it hovered hesitantly—almost shyly—over Arthur's heart.

Automatically reaching up to clasp it, Arthur pulled it back down to Merlin's side, releasing it after a half-second's pause. "Merlin?" he asked, warily eyeing his manservant's set jaw and serious eyes.

"Arthur-" his name was a sudden, rushed burst of breath.

-Which became interrupted once a solid, loud knock sounded on Arthur's chamber door. "Sire," Leon's voice filtered to them through the wood, "your father has requested your presence in the throne room. He says it is urgent, Sire."

"Everything is urgent to my father," muttered under his breath, not-quite-accidentally-audible to Merlin.

Merlin smothered his own laugh, as whatever serious light had shone momentarily in his eyes swiftly receded, "Duty calls, Sire. Aren't you glad I woke you early? You were even able to eat breakfast!"

Arthur scowled, opening his mouth to tell Merlin exactly what he thought of his early awakening, when the actual use of "early" processed. Frowning slightly, he asked, "How early? What time is it, Merlin?"

A throat cleared softly behind them. Both boys spun around to face the entrance and a rather amused Leon who stood in the threshold, "Just past seven by the sun's shadow, Your Highness."

All at once, too many things made sense. Arthur eyed his manservant disbelievingly, "Since when have you bothered to memorize my schedule, Merlin?"

Merlin flushed, and shrugged, trying to cover it up with a smirk, "With all due respect, Sire, a while."

Arthur's frown deepened, and he would have demanded clarification of just what 'a while' entailed, had not Merlin abruptly dropped into a (far too graceful) bow, "If you'll excuse me, My Prince…"

"Merlin!"

Merlin bit the inside of his cheek, not quite able to conceal the laughter sparkling in his eyes, and quickly ducked out into the corridor with a slightly more shallow bow to Leon.

Arthur found himself in the rather irritating position of being caught between delighted laughter of his own and utter annoyance. Why, again, did his father think Merlin the ideal candidate for Arthur's manservant?

"Because he saved your life, I believe, Your Highness," Leon's voice made his smile apparent, "and after all this time, you won't suffer anyone else in that position."

Arthur's cheeks stung, "My apologies, Leon, I did not realize I said that out loud."

His father's head knight smiled slightly, gesturing for the prince to precede him out the door. Once he did, Leon followed Arthur, "It is of no matter, Sire." The smile grew a bit, "If you'll forgive my saying so, it is even less of a matter when you consider I know exactly who gave the knights their orders to clean and repair the physician's rooms yesterday."

Arthur had little hope of concealing the color that flushed his cheeks now, "Father knows, doesn't he? That's why…"

Leon coughed politely to cover up his laugh, "I believe so, Your Highness, as Gaius is with him now."

Rubbing embarrassedly at the back of his neck, Arthur fell back to join Leon as they continued to walk down the corridors, "I suppose it was too much to hope he wouldn't. And—wait," he stopped dead in center of the hallway, "if Gaius knows about it…"

Leon, who thus far had done an admirable job of containing his laughter, now could not prevent a small chuckle from escaping, "Yes, Your Highness, Merlin knows about it, too. He thanked me once we did all we could without Gaius's guidance."

Arthur groaned, "I am going to assume you explained why to him, then."

Leon's smile became a bit more understanding, "In fact, I did not, Your Highness, as per your request. I believe he may have figured it out on his own."

"So this morning-"

A truly fond grin touched Leon's lips, "I believe he meant to thank you, Your Highness."

Arthur scrubbed his burning face, "I am never going to hear the end of this, am I?"

Leon really did laugh this time, "I am afraid not, Sire. Merlin knows your heart far too well."

End Protecting a Lady Hawk (Part 2)