Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Arthur was bored.

That was an understatement. Arthur was beyond bored.

Training was over for the day. He had attended the morning council meeting just as was expected. He had reviewed the new law on property ownership his father had given him, stating it was good practice for when he became king. He had eaten lunch and seen that the stables were properly cleaned, and the guest rooms prepared for Lady Helen's arrival later in the week.

Now, he was sitting idly at his desk while he gazed out the window, watching the people who would one day be his people go about their daily lives in the courtyard below. He watched as a mother toted her two young children towards the market, basket of bread in hand and determined look on her face, despite the clear whining from both children. Morgana's maidservant, Guinevere, hauled a bucket of water, fresh from the pump, across the sunlit cobblestones and into the castle. A stableboy slumped against the citadel wall and gorged on an apple, clearly ravenous from the morning's work.

Nothing new, nothing exciting. Arthur grumbled and slumped in his seat, indulging himself since no one was around to berate him on his posture.

The figure of an old man with long white hair and red robes caught his attention: Gaius, the court physician. It was odd for him to be out and about at the current hour unless he was delivering medicine, but seeing as he had his medicine bag slung over his shoulder, that was probably the case.

What, or rather who, really caught his attention wasn't the physician, but the boy walking alongside him.

From what Arthur could tell, he was tall and thin, his limbs gangly and a bit disproportionate to the rest of his body. He had hair as black as coal. He couldn't be sure, but the boy looked to be a few years younger than himself, maybe sixteen or seventeen summers old. Despite Gaius' age, the boy was taking quick strides in order to keep up with him.

The prince had never seen him before. While that by no means meant he wasn't from the lower town, Arthur seriously doubted it. Why would he suddenly be following Gaius around when the old physician had never expressed interest in an apprentice before?

Gaius rummaged around in his bag as they approached the castle. After a few moments, he looked up and said something to the teen, his hands moving in peculiar motions as he did. The physician forced something into the boy's hands and gestured towards the castle. Immediately, the boy bounded up the stairs with all the energy of a puppy and disappeared within.

Gaius ran a tired hand down his face before following the boy, taking the stairs significantly slower than his companion.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. That was the strangest thing he'd seen all day. For whatever odd reason, the prince found himself wanting to see the boy again.

And he had the funniest feeling he was going to get his wish very soon.

Arthur didn't see the boy again until two days later, on the training field.

He'd had a bad morning. His father had shouted at him in front of the entire council over writing what he deemed to be an inadequate speech for the celebration in two days' time.

Yes, he understood it was a landmark celebration commemorating twenty years since the eradication of sorcery from Camelot, but that didn't mean Arthur was any good at writing speeches. He was quite awful at it, really, despite his tutors' best efforts.

He was only working out his frustrations. Morris was never in any true danger. Of course, he would have stopped throwing the knives if he had thought he was going to injure the man other than some bumps and bruises. He was upset, but he wasn't a monster.

But then the idiot had to go and drop the shield, sending the wooden disk rolling across the field. Arthur rolled his eyes and bit back a growl of anger. Just as he was about to bark at Morris to go pick the bloody thing up and start again, the shield suddenly stopped in its movement much too soon with a quiet thump.

Arthur's head snapped up to see the shield pinned under a boot, a boot which was attached to a young man, a young man with gangly limbs and coal black hair.

The boy he had seen with Gaius only the day before.

Up close, Arthur could get a better look at him. He was just as tall as him with skin so white it was nearly translucent. His ears stuck out unnaturally under his raven locks, making him look a little stupid. The blue shirt combined with the red neckerchief and worn, brown leather jacket wasn't helping his cause, either.

Overall, he looked idiotic.

So, why the hell did Arthur find himself slightly endeared by the whole get-up?

"Hey," the boy said, "Come on. That's enough."

Arthur looked him up and down, smirking despite the thoughts swirling through his head. There was something off about the boy's voice.

"What?" Arthur demanded.

The boy matched his smirk. "You've had your fun, my friend."

Something was definitely off about the way he talked. It wasn't the accent exactly, though the accent wasn't one native to Camelot's regions. No, it was the way he formed his words. Not quite pronouncing some of them correctly, but correctly enough for someone to look past it or only question it for a moment.

Arthur couldn't look past it.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, he barely had time to process what the boy had even said to him. The prince strode towards the young man, lifting his chin into the air just enough to show everyone who had the authority in this exchange.

"Do I know you?" The boy’s gaze was planted on his lips. So, he was insubordinate and rude.

"Uh, I'm Merlin," the raven said, holding out his hand.

Arthur barely looked at the outstretched hand. As if he'd shake hands with a commoner like this Merlin. "So, I don't know you then?"

Merlin dropped his hand. "No."

"Yet, you called me 'friend'." A thrill of excitement had definitely not run down his spine at the term.

Merlin sucked in his lip like he was trying not to laugh, his eyes looking Arthur up and down.

Why did the simple action make Arthur want to blush? What the hell was wrong with him?

"That was my mistake."

"Yes, I think so."

Merlin shrugged. "I've never had a friend who could be such an ass."

Arthur was completely taken aback. Who did this peasant think he was talking to? He could have him executed with a single word! No one dared to speak to him in such a manner.

He scoffed, the only thing he could seem to retaliate with as Merlin began to walk away. "Or I one who could be so stupid."

Arthur had expected some sort of reaction. Anger, fear, hell he had expected Merlin to whirl around and take a swing at him. He had not expected Merlin to keep walking, displaying not a single emotion at the prince's words.

This greatly irritated the blonde. He would not be ignored by this treasonous peasant. He stepped forward and clamped down on the raven's shoulder.

He was met with wide, panicked, azure eyes. Arthur snuffed out the guilt he irrationally felt at startling Merlin. He had just insulted the bloody prince after all. He could have him executed for that. Why should he of all people feel guilty? He was the prince; he never did anything guilt worthy.

"Tell me, Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?" The phrase did its job. The blush that spread across Merlin's prominent cheekbones was well worth the innuendo.

Not that he had looked at his cheekbones.

Wait, why the bloody hell did he want to see Merlin blush? Gods, he needed a drink.

Once again, Merlin's eyes flicked to his lips. "Nope." There was the speaking thing again. His words just sounded off.

"Would you like me to help you?" Why did he say that?!

That cheeky grin was back in place. "I wouldn't, if I were you."

Arthur couldn't help but laugh. The thought of this gangly boy posing any sort of threat to him was too funny. The prince would be willing to bet he barely weighed 120 pounds soaking wet. "What're you going to do to me?"

"You have no idea," Merlin breathed like he was sharing a private joke with himself.

Arthur grinned, stepping back and throwing his arms open. "Be my guest." When Merlin made no move to come any closer, Arthur decided to try and get a rise out of him. "Come on. Come on." He leaned forward mockingly. "Come on."

Ah, so there was the punch he'd expected the other boy to take. It was sudden yet expected. Merlin was by no means strong, and his form was absolutely dreadful, but with the amount of force he put behind the swing, it would have done some damage had Arthur's training not kicked in. He caught Merlin's wrist and twisted it behind the raven's back in one swift motion, effectively pinning Merlin.

"I'll have you put in jail for that," Arthur growled beside his ear. Irrational anger curled in his stomach. He didn't care who this boy was or where he had come from; no one attempted assault on royalty and got away with it.

Merlin once again had no reaction to the sentence that would have most men quaking in their boots aside from the slight grunt of discomfort from their current position. If Arthur hadn't been directly next to Merlin's ear, he would have thought he hadn't heard him. Either he was the stupidest man he'd ever met or the bravest.

Something told the prince it was a bit of both.

Merlin turned his head. "Who do you think you are? The king?"

"No. I'm his son, Arthur."

The blonde shoved Merlin in the direction of two guards who had wandered over during the commotion. The boy stumbled and would have faceplanted had the guards not grabbed him and not-too-kindly began to drag him away.

Arthur whirled around, dozens of emotions bubbling in him like a cauldron about to overflow. Most were ones he didn't understand or refused to, but one he knew like an old friend.

"What're you all looking at? Stop standing around like buffoons and do something!" He roared at the gawking knights.

Anger. He could deal with anger.

Two days later, he was still fuming.

If it had only been that one encounter, Arthur could have gotten over it. He could have written it off as some arrogant peasant not yet knowing his place, and Arthur was more than happy to put him in it.

But no. Only the next day did Arthur run into the unruly man yet again, this time in the market. They had experienced much of the same encounter, insults and threats flying on both ends. Arthur had to give it to him. For such a skinny boy, Merlin had guts.

Once again, however, Arthur had seen the same odd behavior on the raven's part. His speaking, his clumsiness that was beyond clumsy, and the way Merlin seemed to ignore people if his back was turned to them.

Arthur had certainly learned he was rude.

The meeting ended in a mace fight between the two men, a fight which Arthur had almost lost, much to his great horror. If it hadn't been for Merlin getting distracted by Gaius in the crowd, he would have.

Now, Arthur was expected to sit at the banquet and act like the man he was fuming at wasn't standing in the doorway right beside the head table.

He barely registered his father giving his speech. It was the same speech he gave about sorcery every other day: how it was evil and needed to be eradicated from their lands at all costs. Even Arthur was getting sick of hearing it.

The prince was more invested in the exchange going on between Merlin and Gaius, though. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the physician motioning to Merlin in the same manner he had seen through his chamber window that very first day. Merlin was watching the old man's hand intently, while Gaius watched Uther.

The guests' sudden clapping startled Arthur, and he barely managed to keep himself from jumping as Lady Helen took the stage in front of them. Her voice was elegant and powerful, the foreign tongue sweeping over the crowd like a wave. Arthur shivered.

The words filtered into his ears, resonating in his mind and making him tired. The slow melody was a perfect pitch to lull him to sleep, almost like the lullabies he vaguely remembered his nannies singing to him when he was a small child. His eyes sluggishly searched the room and found guests all around slumping to the table, eyes closed. Even as his eyelids fell to half-mast, Arthur managed to gaze over at Merlin, finding the raven completely fine, shaking a slumbering Gaius in panic and gazing around the room with fear-filled eyes. Arthur didn't have the energy to wonder why he wasn't affected. He barely had the energy to feel bad for the clearly distraught boy.

A voice was screaming in his mind that something wasn't right, that this was a trick, a spell and Lady Helen was a sorceress. Somewhere he knew if he fell asleep, there was a good chance he wouldn't wake up again.

He promptly told the voice to shut up. He was tired.

The world went dark.

When Arthur came back to consciousness, it was covered in cobwebs. He could feel his father stirring next to him and quickly surveyed that the rest of the guest were also just now waking up. His father shot from his chair at the sight of Lady Helen, or the sorceress who was supposed to be Lady Helen, pinned under a fallen chandelier. Arthur hastily followed suit.

The prince watched as the old witch shifted beneath the chandelier. He thought she was trying to crawl away in a last pitiful attempt to escape her imminent sentence or something equally plausible. However, with a final surge of energy, she shot up from beneath her metal prison, an object glinting like steel flying through the air.

Too late Arthur realized it was a dagger.

He knew he would die. Everyone died eventually. And he, more than most, was likely to die at a young age. Leading armies of knights straight into battle and fighting with his men on the frontlines greatly lowered his life expectancy. Couple that with the constant threat of assassination, Arthur had always known he was going to die much sooner than most people.

He, of course, had not awoken that morning expecting it to be at the banquet, his goblet of wine only half drank and the chicken on his plate barely touched.

His mind froze. He wasn't scared, princes didn't get scared. He was a knight, too, which meant if he died, he would die knowing he had fought hard to protect his people in life. He would open whatever he faced in the veil with open arms.

He expected pain. He expected an excruciating knife wound in the middle of his chest, blood gushing down, and air leaving his lungs.

Air did leave his lungs, but it wasn't from blood flooding into them. It was from the blur of red and blue that had just tackled him to the ground.

Arthur laid there for a moment on the cold, stone floor, watching as the dagger that was supposed to be in his chest, embedded itself in the back of the chair he had been sitting in only moments ago.

Merlin scrambled up at the same time as Arthur. The entire banquet hall was silent, everyone watching to see what their king would do next. Merlin watched Uther approach, and Arthur could see the fear plain as day in the raven's azure eyes. He almost felt bad for him.

The king waved for two guards to collect the now dead sorceress' body. Still, the hall remained silent as if they were all holding a collective breath. Uther looked Merlin up and down.

"You saved my boy's life. A debt must be repaid," Uther said, a look of shock on his face. He must have made the same deductions Arthur had upon their first meeting: Merlin was as skinny as a rail. Yet, he had somehow managed to tackle the prince to the ground just seconds before he would have been mortally wounded.

Arthur thought they hated each other. Merlin was the last person Arthur had expected to save his life.

That's when a huge question made itself known. Arthur narrowed his eyes in suspicion at the younger boy. "Hang on a moment. How were you aware enough to tackle me in the first place? Last I saw before I fell asleep, you were the only person still fully conscious."

Uther raised an eyebrow, his face falling into one of identical suspicion as his son's. Merlin's eyes flicked between the two, not meeting either royal's eyes. He took a visible step backward.

Uther matched him with a step forward. Now his face wasn't just suspicious, it was accusatory. "Perhaps you were working with the sorceress all along," he said darkly. Merlin twisted the bottom of his shirt around in his hands nervously. His eyes were dutifully trained down from the king's eyes, but he looked on the verge of tears.

"I-I," he began to say, his pale hands shaking as they moved over the fabric.

Uther's face lit with rage, and he took another menacing step forward. Arthur thought about stopping his father, he had no idea why he had the urge when this awful boy was so clearly guilty, but he knew it would do neither of them any good.

A hand suddenly appeared on Merlin's shoulder, rooting him to his spot. The raven's head snapped up. Gaius ignored him and gazed at the king.

"Sire, if I may, Merlin is not guilty here."

The king turned towards one of his knights, murmuring something to the man. Soon, the soldier began to clear the hall out until no one was left but Uther, Arthur, Merlin, and Gaius. Even Morgana had been ushered out. The king turned back to his old friend.

Uther looked at the physician apprehensively. "And how would you know this, Gaius? The boy's circumstances are suspicious, you must admit."

"Yes, sire, but I know Merlin firsthand. He's my nephew and has come to live with me in hopes of training as my apprentice."

"That does not prove his innocence."

"Yet, I can explain. Merlin did not succumb to the sleeping spell not because he was consorting with the sorceress, but because he simply did not hear it. Merlin is deaf, sire."

Well, if that revelation didn't smack Arthur in the face. All the strange behaviors he had seen from the raven in the last two days began to make sense. He wasn't being rude by not answering when his back was turned to a person, he simply didn't even know he had been spoken to. The strange way his words were formed was because he couldn't hear himself talk to know if he was saying them completely correct. The overabundance of clumsiness was because he was so focused on his surroundings that he missed things directly in his path.

And didn't Arthur now feel like an absolute ass. All the assumptions he had made about the boy had been completely wrong. Of course, the raven still had a wicked tongue and was still rude beyond belief, but Arthur was willing to admit to himself that he had judged Merlin before he knew the entire story.

"Ah, thank God. I thought you were deaf as well as dumb." His own words from the market played through his head. Something that felt questionably like guilt began to fill Arthur. He realized now Merlin hadn't heard them seeing as his back had been turned to him at the time, but the fact that he had even said it didn't help to squash the absolute shitty way Arthur was feeling about himself.

Something still wasn't making sense. "How is it Merlin's able to speak then? And hold a normal conversation? It's not like he can hear us talk."

A faint smile tugged at Gaius' lips. "Merlin wasn't always deaf, sire. He learned to speak when he could still hear, so he doesn't struggle as much as he would, had he been born accordingly. As for following a conversation, you might have noticed Merlin hardly ever looks anyone in the eye while speaking. This is because he has learned over the years to recognize the shape people's lips make when speaking and follow a conversation just as you or I."

Arthur really wanted to finish his wine.

Merlin waved at Gaius. He pointed to his chin with his index finger and moved it outwards, gestured towards Arthur and his father, and then made a few circles in the air around each other with his index fingers. Gaius nodded along like he understood what Merlin meant.

"Merlin says to tell you about his signs. When Merlin was small, his mother made up a whole new language for him using only hand motions so Merlin could communicate with her easily. I have learned it as well and it is quite useful, especially when Merlin cannot see the person actively speaking or he is simply too tired to speak."

Arthur glanced at his father. The man's face was impassive. How, Arthur didn't know. He was sure his own face conveyed a dozen wild emotions he was desperately trying to get a rein on.

Finally, Uther spoke. "No matter. For your deed, you shall be rewarded."

"No, honestly, you don't have to, your highness," Merlin murmured softly. Arthur tried to kill the butterflies he felt at the sight of the fine blush dusting Merlin's cheeks.

"No, absolutely. This merits something quite special."

Merlin shrugged shyly. "Well…"

"You shall be awarded a position in the royal household." He clapped Arthur on the back. "You shall be Prince Arthur's manservant."

Arthur glanced at Merlin's shocked face. He needed that bloody wine.

Chapter Text

By the time three weeks had passed, Arthur hadn't decided if he was going to kill himself or kill Merlin.

The boy was by far the worst manservant he had ever had, and that was saying something. He was rude and imprudent. He didn't care that Arthur was the prince, he insulted and talked back to him just like he would anyone else. He somehow managed to mess up almost every chore Arthur assigned him. He hadn't even known how to correctly put armor on his master! Guinevere had to teach him.

He was a bumbling idiot at best. Arthur would be surprised if the fool even knew how to read. He was unbelievably clumsy, managing to fall at least three times a day. He was so clumsy in fact, that Arthur had a hard time believing it was all due to his lack of hearing.

The hearing was an issue, too. Not that Arthur passed any judgement, that was the one thing he didn't judge the other man for. The prince knew it wasn't his fault, but it was hard to be patient. He wasn't used to being ignored, even if Merlin wasn't usually doing so on purpose. It sometimes took twice as long to get an order across because Arthur would physically have to get up and get Merlin's attention in order to communicate with him. Not to even mention how jumpy he was. Any time someone tapped him on the back he would whirl around in panic, looking not a little like a startled stoat.

Merlin was also giving Arthur a bad reputation among some nobility. His utter lack of respect for status appalled many foreign royals and had them casting a bad eye towards the prince for not truly reprimanding him. What was he supposed to do? As much as it puzzled him, Arthur physically couldn't punish Merlin any more than a few hours in the stocks.

Arthur also suspected many of the other nobles had an issue with his manservant's hearing, or rather, lack thereof. That pissed him off more than it should have.

Yet, despite everything, Arthur felt drawn to Merlin. He found himself feeling more at ease when the raven was around, blabbering on about one thing or another, even if it could be quite irritating at times.

Arthur genuinely wondered if Merlin talked so much because he couldn't hear himself speak. If he heard how annoying his own voice was, Arthur was sure he would talk less.

Still, Arthur began to feel lonely whenever Merlin wasn't around. He hated the feeling. He was a prince; he didn't get lonely. He especially didn't feel lonely without blithering idiots like Merlin around. He knew he had a serious issue when he began to miss Merlin's sparkling eyes, his dorky neckerchief, his laugh that lit up an entire room.

He was currently trying to mull over the issue of said manservant when he came upon Morgana's chambers. The door was cracked open slightly and giggling filtered out into the corridor. He rolled his eyes. No doubt Guinevere and Morgana were gossiping about some new knight they had deemed "cute" or talking about some beautiful dress they had seen at the market.

"Merlin!" Guinevere's voice cried. It was very clear she was barely stifling laughter. Morgana wasn't even trying. Arthur could hear her practically howling.

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was Merlin doing in Morgana's chambers with her and Guinevere?

More accurately, why was Arthur jealous that he hadn't been included in whatever it was?

Curiously, Arthur peered through the opening in the door, careful to stay out of sight. All three of them were sitting on Morgana's bed in a little circle. Uther would have Merlin killed if he knew he was spending time alone with his ward and her maidservant.

The thought of Merlin attempting anything on either lady didn't even cross Arthur's mind. He'd seen the boy cry over a bloody dead bird in the courtyard. He hardly thought Merlin capable of such a heinous crime. Plus, they all looked like they were having the best time of their lives.

A pang went through Arthur's heart.

"Show us again!" Morgana demanded excitedly.

Merlin made a fist with his right hand, his thumb sticking out the side. He then tucked his thumb back in and stuck his pinky up, bringing his fist up to rest against his forehead.

"Arthur," he said. Arthur panicked for a moment, thinking he'd been caught, but none of the occupants were even looking his direction. "Idiot."

Morgana collapsed back on her pillows as she laughed. Guinevere even lost it, following her mistress' lead in laughing. Merlin grinned like a fool. Arthur's heart fluttered against his ribcage even though he was pretty sure he had just been insulted.

"Ooh, what's my name sign, Merlin?" Guinevere asked. Merlin then proceeded to stick the pointer finger of his right hand out to the left and then touch his chin with the tips of his fingers, bending them twice away from his chin.

"Gwen," he said. "Sweet."

Great. So, Merlin's sign for him was basically calling him an idiot.

"Show me your alphabets," Merlin said. Both girls began to make signs with their hands.

That evil jealousy came back to Arthur full force, this time accompanied by anger. Merlin was teaching them his language and hadn't even bothered to offer it to Arthur, too. For some reason, the fact that Merlin was willing to teach the girls but not him hurt. He felt as if they were going to be having their own little conversations in Merlin's special language, and he wouldn't have a clue what they were saying. The prince didn't see the rest of their little lesson. He was too busy storming away, straight to Gaius' chambers.

The physician was hunched over a mortar and pestle when Arthur entered the cluttered room. Despite the stuff, it was warm and cozy, and Arthur had always found the physician's chambers to be horribly inviting.

But not today. Today, Arthur was angry.

Gaius looked up in surprise as the door slammed open. "Sire? This is a surprise. If you're looking for Merlin, he isn't here."

"I know exactly where Merlin is," Arthur bit out. Gaius blinked at the prince's hostility.

"Well then, what can I do for you, my lord?"

"You can tell me exactly why Merlin is teaching Morgana and Guinevere to do his little signs."

Gaius let out a breath and turned back to crushing herbs in the mortar. "They approached him wanting to learn. They said they wanted to be able to speak with him more easily and comfortably. Merlin was more than happy to teach them. He loves teaching."

That just made Arthur angrier. "If he loves teaching so much, how come he hasn't taught me?"

Gaius sighed and turned back to the prince. "You never expressed any interest, sire. Merlin mentioned offering to teach you as well, but he didn't think you would have the time or the want to."

That hurt. "Of course, I would have wanted to! Giving him his chores isn't exactly easy when he has to be directly in front of you, staring only at your lips in order to understand you, Gaius."

"Ah, so that's what this is about."

Arthur huffed in annoyance. He didn't have the time or the patience for one of Gaius' life lessons, and it seemed like he was gearing up for one. "You clearly disapprove of something I said, Gaius. Out with it."

"I just should have realized you wanted to learn to make communicating duties easier. My mistake for not, sire."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Merlin wanted to teach you so maybe you would talk to him outside of giving chores. He feels that you don't talk to him more than you have to because it's too much work or it makes you look bad, talking to the deaf boy and all."

Arthur winced. If he was being totally honest, Gaius was right. As much as he enjoyed listening to Merlin babble, he didn't exactly do his part in contributing to conversations. Both reasons Merlin had theorized were semi correct, as guilty as they made Arthur for admitting them, but there was a third reason. One he wasn't about to admit, not even under threat of death.

"Merlin also mentioned you learning his language would be good for secret communication. During times when you could not speak, perhaps." Gaius eyes him carefully from beneath his curtain of white hair.

Arthur's mind drifted back a few days to the tournament in which Sir Valiant's shield had released enchanted snakes with the intent to kill him. He had only survived by sheer luck. Somehow, the snakes had escaped their magical prison without Valiant's consent, thus revealing themselves to everyone. Arthur managed to kill them thanks to a sword skillfully thrown by Morgana from the stands.

He saw Merlin on the sidelines, watching the matches alongside Gaius. The tournament had wrecked the poor boy. He had circles so dark around his eyes that one might mistake him for wearing a mask. All the strangers in the castle had him jumping at every turn, paranoid beyond belief. Arthur thought he was actually going to start crying when a group of six or seven visiting knights had approached the pair on the training field, all attempting to give the servant chores and talk to Arthur at the same time. Merlin's eyes had desperately flicked from face to face, but it was hard for even Arthur to follow the conversation, and he could fully hear. The boy shrank back behind Arthur and silently watched the exchange. Later, Arthur managed to relay all his chores to him, but they were running him absolutely ragged. And if Arthur had made sure it got around that Merlin was his manservant and no one else's, no one needed to worry about it.

Arthur's heart ached for him.

Just before the final round however, Arthur had seen Merlin gesturing to him. At the time, the prince had assumed he was merely telling him good luck or something of the fashion in his own way. But now, Arthur had a sneaking suspicion his manservant had been trying to relay more vital information.

"I think…I think Merlin tried to warn me about the snakes in Valiant's shield before the round began," Arthur said suddenly. He couldn't believe he had missed it!

Gaius sucked in his lips like he was trying not to laugh. "That is entirely plausible, sire. Servants do tend to see and hear, well in Merlin's case not hear, more than the rest of us in the castle. What exactly did he sign?"

Arthur wracked his brain trying to conjure the image of his manservant from the tournament. He hadn't been giving the raven his undivided attention at the time, too focused on the upcoming battle with Valiant.

"Um, something like this, I believe." He made a shaky fist with his right hand and waved his open left hand up and down in front of it. He then made two fists and opened them in a flourish like something was exploding. Finally, he bent his pointer and middle finger near his chin and moved them forward in a weaving motion.

Gaius actually chuckled. Arthur's ears burned, thinking the old man was laughing at his bad signs. "It's not funny! I couldn't be expected to remember the exact little motions he was making when he won't even bother to teach me!"

"My apologies. I wasn't laughing at you, my lord. I was simply laughing at Merlin's cleverness. He was trying to warn you about Valiant. Those are the literal signs for shield, magic, and snake."

Arthur mentally face-palmed. Even at the time, something had told him the desperate look on his manservant's face and the frantic signs weren't just him wishing his master good luck. But, because of Arthur's irritation with the other boy for making him nearly late trying to get his armor on, he had disregarded him. Arthur was beginning to believe he may be more of the idiot Merlin thought him to be than he had initially thought.

One thing was becoming increasingly clear. His pride was becoming an issue that he would later need to address. Not just for situations like the one that had transpired with the tournament, but also because he did genuinely feel bad about the way he had made Merlin feel over the last three weeks.

Not that he would ever tell the boy that. He'd never hear the end of it.

"Damn," Arthur grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"You know, I could begin to teach you Merlin's language if you would like, your highness. I've written down many of them, and I could loan you my papers to study."

Arthur chewed his bottom lip. "Yes, yes, alright. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to learn some of it. For work purposes, of course."

Gaius smiled softly. "Oh, of course. Work purposes."

Arthur scowled. He didn't like what Gaius was insinuating one bit. It was too close to those thoughts Arthur had managed to lock away in the last few weeks.

Something Arthur had been meaning to ask the physician popped into his head. "Gaius, I've been meaning to ask, and it seemed insensitive to do so with Merlin. How did he become, well, deaf?"

The smile slipped away from Gaius' face. His eyes became sad. The hollows beneath his eyes became more noticeable, and it looked like he aged twenty years in a matter of second.

"That is a…dark story," he murmured. Arthur felt dread curl in his stomach as he quietly sat down on a bench. He had the feeling he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear.

When Arthur didn't speak, Gaius sighed and continued. "First off, you must not let him know that you know, and I ask you not to tell him that I was the one who told you. He doesn't like people knowing the story, but I feel that it is important for you to hear."

Arthur nodded his understanding, the dread seeming to turn his tongue into a piece of lead too heavy to speak with. "Arthur," Gaius eyed him. Arthur shivered. Gaius hardly ever used his given name. "One thing you must understand is that not everywhere is like Camelot. Here, people tend to be more…lenient when it comes to certain things. But Merlin comes from a small farming village in Cenred's kingdom. There, they are very close knit. They're not nearly as accepting of someone like him."

"Someone like him," Arthur parroted. "Deaf, you mean?"

Gaius sighed, somehow looking even sadder. "Well, yes, but not really. I more meant someone of his status. You see, he and his mother were shunned by the people because of one mistake Hunith made when she was nothing more than a naïve girl."

Arthur's heart sank. He had an idea where this was going. "Merlin was born out of wedlock, wasn't he?"

Gaius nodded. "Yes. Please do not think any less of him, sire. I truly ask you. He's endured enough because of it growing up. And it's neither of their faults. Merlin doesn't even know his father. Hunith was only seventeen summers old when she found herself with Merlin. She's raised him all alone since, working from sunup to sundown in the fields, giving what little she had to her son. She loves him more than anything. And even though Merlin grew up with nothing, Hunith made up for it with her love."

Arthur's heart ached. He himself had never known his mother, and for that he couldn't help but be a tad bit jealous of Merlin. While the raven had never known his father, he had at least grown under a mother's care and loving touch, something Arthur could never claim to have done. He then reprimanded himself; Merlin and his mother had been shunned by their own village and lived with almost nothing. He didn't have much to complain about.

"If I-" Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat. "If I may ask, what does this have to do with Merlin becoming deaf?"

Something dark shadowed the physician's face, making him look ancient. "It has everything to do with it. One day when Merlin was seven, he was playing outside their home, right next to the water well. He was too absorbed in what he was doing to notice some of the older boys from the village come up behind him. Their parents had all told them to stay away from Hunith and Merlin. They were all told awful things about Hunith's virtue. The children were told not to play with Merlin or even speak to him. Well, some of the boys took things too far. Rumors started going around that Merlin was some sort of monster. They snuck up behind Merlin and pinned him over the well to scare him, but he was squirming so much, he slipped from their grips and fell."

Arthur blanched. He had not expected to learn such horrifying information about his manservant when he had burst into the physician's chambers in a fit of anger. The fact that anyone could be so cruel to a child, because no matter what Merlin was, he had been just that, a bloody child, was appalling. Just imagining a seven-year-old Merlin, all blue eyes shining with mischief and ears he hadn't quite grown into, getting so hatefully assaulted like that for something that was out of his control made Arthur want to both hug his manservant, and hunt down every one of those boys.

Since when did he care so much about the idiot? And now he wanted to hug him?!

"When Merlin didn't come home that night, Hunith began to frantically search for him. Even after she had asked everyone in the village if they had seen her child and had been met with nothing more than glares and muted shrugs, she still searched. No one was about to help the "slut" look for the "village bastard". Hunith had nearly worked herself to hysterics. They didn't find Merlin until the next morning when one of their neighbors went to get water. By that time, he had been unconscious the entire night. He had hit his head on the way down and was bleeding profusely. By some miracle, his shirt had gotten caught on a stone, keeping him above the water. If not, Merlin would have been dead long before they ever found him."

Arthur listened with sadness heavy in his heart. He had no idea his bumbling, idiotic manservant had suffered so much. It made him feel even more guilty for all his shitty behavior. How Merlin had managed to remain the cheerful, happy-about-everything boy he was after all he had been through was beyond Arthur. The prince certainly wouldn't have been able to.

"Hunith couldn't wake him, and of course, a village that small had no physician. No one was going to risk riding to another village just for the sake of some bastard. Thankfully, there was one family that hadn't shunned them and was willing to watch over Merlin and lend Hunith their horse to ride to Camelot. She managed to ride to me in half the time it would have usually taken, and we got back just in time. Merlin was on the brink of death when I arrived. He had lost a lot of blood and was hypothermic. I took one look at him and knew it was hopeless. Merlin was on his deathbed. The only thing that could save him was…magic," Gaius looked at Arthur carefully. The blonde didn't even blink twice at the taboo word. Sorcery wasn't as strictly punished in Essetir as it was in Camelot. Besides, he wasn't about to get torn up about an event that had happened over a decade ago, especially when it had occurred solely to save a little boy's life.

Arthur waved him off, wanting to finish this awful story so he could go wallow in his chambers. "I managed to get him to the point where he wasn't about to die with a single touch. However, when he finally awoke, we discovered that the head trauma had affected his hearing. Something inside had been injured beyond repair when he hit his head, rendering him permanently deaf. There was nothing I could do."

Arthur swallowed hard, an odd burning sensation making itself known behind his eyes. What was that about?

Abruptly, Arthur stood. The room suddenly felt too cramped, too warm. He didn't like any of the emotions he was feeling, and he certainly didn't want Gaius to see them. He needed to get out, he needed to get back to his chambers where he could be alone.

He all but ran to the door, halfway out when Gaius called after him.

"Sire! Remember what I said. I would prefer if Merlin didn't know I told you."

Arthur barely heard him from the other side of the closed door.

Chapter Text

"You know, he's fine, Arthur. I can practically smell you brooding from all the way over here," Morgana said, inspecting her fingernails as she leaned on the wall across from his cell, smirking like an ass.

Arthur glared at her, even if she couldn't see it. It truly was sad that Arthur had begun to look forward to seeing Morgana of all people.

It was strange what captivity did to a man.

Morgana wasn't even supposed to be seeing him. Yet, in the four days he had already been in the dungeons, she had been the only soul he had seen other than Guinevere when she had come to retrieve the Mortaeus Flower and the random servant who brought him his meals.

He couldn't figure out why she of all people came to visit at a clear risk to herself. If caught, Uther would by no means hesitate to put her in the cell right next door.

Not that he was complaining. As much as they squabbled and bickered, seeing Morgana was like a breath of fresh air that blew out the staleness of his cell.

"I don't suppose you would tell me if he wasn't," Arthur grumbled.

Morgana pushed off from the wall and grabbed the bars. "It's lovely to know you think so poorly of me, Arthur. I may be a lot of things, but I'm not cruel. I wouldn't hurt you like that by lying. Merlin is weak and still ill, but Gaius says he'll make a full recovery. He says he should be well enough to serve you by the time Uther decides to let your sorry ass out of here." She huffed and leaned back into the wall.

"Morgana…" Arthur trailed off.

"You're worried and you don't know how to handle it. You've only known him for three months, yet you care about him just as much as me or Gwen. You're protective of him because of his situation, and it's killing you that you haven't been able to check on him, to defend his honor if something were to happen like the knight in shining armor you think you are. You've never felt this drawn to someone before, and it's scaring the hell out of you, but oh no, princes don't get scared. Guess what? Everyone gets scared. What you're feeling is normal, especially for the most emotionally constipated person I've ever met. Now, when you get out of here, if you don't stop dancing around him like some silly damsel, I am going to do something for you," Morgana ranted. Arthur stared at her in shock. He snapped his jaw closed, not even having realized it was slowly hanging open as Morgana spoke.

"How…how dare you," Arthur sputtered. He could feel his entire face flaming red. He was sure even the tips of his ears were flushed with anger and embarrassment. That was something that only looked good on Merlin.

Damn it.

In his mind and only to himself, Arthur silently admitted she was right. He was terrified. He had never felt such feelings for another person like he did for Merlin. Anytime he saw him, it was like his brain stopped functioning. It was all he could do to keep his eyes from roaming, his thoughts from drifting. Insults and jibes had become his best defense mechanism. If he was telling Merlin how idiotic he was, it was almost like he could forget that he actually meant clever. When he told Merlin how stupid he looked, he truly wanted to say pretty.

Arthur hadn't come to identify his feelings as what they were until his little vacation to the dungeons, all because of the very man who had been consuming every waking moment of his consciousness.

As a punishment for disobeying his orders and going after the antidote to save his manservant, Uther had sentenced Arthur to a week's long stay in the dungeons, but not before crushing the flower he had almost died retrieving right in front of his eyes and dropping it outside his cell as a reminder that there were consequences for his actions.

Arthur had never been more furious with his father in his entire life.

It was one thing to deny him from going after the antidote in the first place, that was bad enough, but to blatantly destroy the very thing that would save Merlin's life when Arthur was just out of arms reach, that was so much worse.

Arthur didn't think he'd be forgiving his father for a long time.

If he ever did.

"Oh, grow up, Arthur. Someone had to say it."

"And that someone had to be you?"

"Of course. Who else would tell you when you're stupid and being an ass?"

"Merlin." Arthur said it so quietly, he wasn't sure Morgana heard him, and he wasn't sure he wanted her to. He didn't know why he had said it, but now that he had, he knew it was true. As much as he hated to admit it, Merlin kept him in line. He wasn't afraid to tell him when he was acting like a pompous prat. Secretly, it was something Arthur appreciated.

Arthur could count on one hand the number of times in his life he was as terrified as when Merlin had collapsed to the floor at the banquet, poisoned chalice rolling out of his limp hand and echoing in the silent room. He still didn't know how he had gotten to the raven's side. One moment he had been standing next to his father, pleading Merlin with his eyes not to be so stupid, not to drink from the damn cup just because he was so idiotically loyal. Of course, the boy had the option of ignoring him much more easily than most, and he chose that option often. Then had been no different. He simply raised the chalice like he was giving some sort of twisted toast, signed something to Arthur, and chugged down the liquid within.

It had been annoying the hell out of Arthur that he still didn't know what the sign meant.

The next moment, he had been almost on top of Merlin, desperately resisting the urge to cup the raven's face, to feel his heartbeat, to lean down and listen for air entering and exiting his manservant's lungs, trying to avoid doing anything to show he cared.

He hadn't even fooled himself.

And then, having to carry Merlin's unconscious body back to Gaius' chambers had been torture. Feeling the fever heat and sweat seep into his tunic had made him nauseated, knowing that it was all because of him. He hated the way he had to have him slung over his shoulder. He had already been struggling to breathe as it was, being nearly folded in half like he had been surely didn't help. But carrying the boy the other way would have been too conspicuous. Too intimate.

Arthur didn't think he would have minded.

Morgana smiled like she had a secret. Why did everyone smile at him like that whenever he talked about Merlin? "Well, until you can have your precious manservant back, I will be taking on his duties of keeping your head from swelling bigger than it already is. I must admit, however, I don't know how he does it. It's quite an exhausting job."

"Thank you, truly. As always, Morgana, your input was neither useful nor needed."

"So, you're saying I could just quit coming down here for the rest of your little stay? I'm putting myself at quite a risk as it is…" she trailed off, smirking as she brushed dust off her dress.

Arthur glowered at her. She knew it, too, if the way her smirk grew was anything to go by.

The sound of voices filtered down the hallway. Morgana stood abruptly, eyeing the shadows that appeared on the wall carefully.

"Well, that's my cue. Leon is supposed to be on guard duty, so I should be alright. It was simply enlightening as always talking to you, Arthur dear." She shot him a cheeky smile, flipped a long lock of black hair over her shoulder, smoothed the wrinkles from her dress, and began to trek down the cobblestone hall.

"Morgana!" Arthur called after her, crawling to the bars and pressing his face against them to try and get a glimpse of her. She turned back. "What does this mean?"

He held up his hand, putting his pointer finger, pinky, and thumb up, leaving the other two down. "Merlin did this to me right before drinking the poison. What the hell does it mean?"

Morgana laughed a full, hearty laugh. "Oh, Arthur, you simple-minded fool. You really can't see what's right in front of you, can you?" When Arthur continued to stare at her as if his brain quit working, she grumbled to herself in an oh-so Morgana way. "Never mind. I forgot your head was just nice to look at, not actually useful." The grin was back in place. "I have a feeling you'll be figuring out the meaning of that particular sign very soon." She said no more as she whirled around and headed down the hall, Arthur listening to the fading sounds of her heels on the stone floor.

He slumped against the wall and ran a hand over his face. When had his life become so complicated?

Arthur was absolutely not jealous of Lancelot.

No matter what Morgana said.

Who cared if Lancelot was the perfect man, sweet and selfless and compassionate in all the places he wasn't? Who cared if he was boyishly handsome with luscious hair and was currently staying in the same room as Merlin? Who cared if Merlin and Lancelot were as close in two days as it had taken Arthur and Merlin nearly five months?

Arthur certainly didn't.

Merlin's love-life was none of his business. The boy was a free citizen of Camelot; he could pursue whomever he wished. It wasn't like Arthur was going to stop him.

So, why did it hurt so much when he saw Merlin whispering in Lancelot's ear, practically hanging off the man, on the side of the training field while Arthur worked with his knights?

He hadn't even known who the man was, only recognized the name from one Merlin had mentioned in passing. He hadn't forgotten it easily, either. He had seen the look in his manservant's eyes when he spoke of the wanna-be knight. He hadn't liked it one bit. Because he was distracting Merlin from his duties, of course. That was all it was.

Maybe he had shoved Lancelot a bit too hard. Maybe cleaning the stables was a bit of a harsh test. For all he knew, Lancelot would be one of the best knights he had ever come across.

He was simply putting him in his place, reminding him who was the prince before the man's head could swell at the prospect of sparring with the legendary Arthur Pendragon.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the raw jealousy and anger that flared in Arthur's heart when he saw Merlin jabbering away to Lancelot in the way Arthur secretly adored, and Lancelot smiling softly at Merlin like he was the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

Arthur's Merlin!

What had been the icing on Arthur's metaphorical cake of hurt and jealousy was when he peeked into Gaius' chambers, intent on asking his manservant to join him on his nightly patrol around the castle for companies' sake. Not because of the way Merlin's blue eyes shimmered in the moonlight like starshine, making Arthur's heart flutter until he felt like he was positively going to choke on his own emotions, something he was not at all used to.

He had seen Merlin sitting beside Lancelot at the table, patiently showing the other man some signs, Lancelot laughing at something the other boy said.

Arthur had never left somewhere so quickly in his entire life. He had been livid. Merlin had barely known Lancelot for two days, yet he was teaching him to sign! Meanwhile, Arthur had to stumble and fumble his way through Gaius' confusing books and even more confusing teachings. It was awful.

If Merlin suddenly found himself with double stable duties the next day, Arthur couldn't be blamed. It was his own fault for believing Arthur to be so shallow he would truly not want to learn something completely unique to Merlin.

Even now, sitting at his desk trying to go over some law proposals, he couldn't focus. Arthur growled to himself and thumped his head against his desk. Merlin wasn't his anything! They were barely friends. He was a prince; he had no time nor the need for romance. When the time came, he would marry for diplomacy. That was that.

Oh, how his heart ached at the thought of sleeping with another yet waking to Merlin's radiant face, knowing he could never have him in the way he wanted. It was enough to physically hurt.

Arthur knew he had to beat Lancelot in the fight the following day. He had already proven he was an exceptional fighter during Arthur's test in the lower town. He won, and he left. Losing wasn't an option.

As it turned out, he had lost quite spectacularly.

To be fair, Lancelot had played dirty, not at all like a knight. He had resorted to trickery to win a fight, something Arthur had never found honorable, even less so when coming from Lancelot. However, procedure was procedure, and as much as Arthur wanted to say procedure be damned and send Lancelot on the first horse out of Camelot, he was nothing if he didn't keep his word. His father had knighted Lancelot, though not before Arthur had put him under the guise of decapitation. That had been quite fun.

Just because Lancelot was now a knight didn't mean Arthur had to be nice to him. He had every intention of being only cordial enough to be professional but giving him a cool shoulder of dislike and arrogance outside of interactions on the training field.

Arthur still wasn't quite sure how he had lost, though he knew his utter distraction by Merlin on the sidelines had something to do with it. It certainly hadn't helped when Lancelot looked to Merlin right before their fight began, looking for support. Merlin had smiled that wonderful, brilliant smile of his and opened his hand, touching his middle finger to his chin and turning it outwards in a quick flick of his wrist then proceeded to spell out a word. Arthur had learned enough from his studies to know he had signed good and spelt out luck.

Arthur had bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood.

Mid-fight, he glanced at Merlin and Guinevere out of the corner of his eye, seeing them both cheering and giggling like children as the grains of sand slowly drained down the hourglass.

The anger from seeing them blatantly cheering against him, mostly Merlin, was enough to fuel his hit to Lancelot's face, effectively knocking him out.

Or so he had thought until he leaned down to grab the flag from around his belt. Lancelot had flipped him over and hit him in one fluid motion, stunning the prince and leaving him lying dazedly on the grass.

It had all led to his current position, sitting less than a foot from Lancelot in the middle of the banquet celebrating his knighting, drinking a cup of mead.

Arthur would be lying if he said he hadn't looked for Merlin upon entering. He could see him in the shadows across the room with Guinevere, the both of them quietly chatting with both their lips and hands. Merlin tended to make himself scarce during large events, only performing his required duties to Arthur. The blonde quickly realized Merlin easily got overwhelmed in situations like they were currently in, where he was surrounded by hearing people, all laughing and talking and moving around at the same time. He couldn't understand what most of them were saying and having so many people around without being able to hear if anyone was behind him made him anxious.

Arthur understood. It was why he always tried to keep Merlin right by his side during these such events, so he could slyly get him away if he could tell he was getting too overwhelmed or keep him away from particularly disapproving nobles. Well, that was mostly the reason.

Lancelot glanced in the same direction as Arthur. "He talks quite highly of you, you know."

Arthur looked to the other man in surprise. What Merlin called him to his face was bad enough. He had assumed what Merlin called him behind his back had to be absolutely dreadful. "Really?"

"Oh, yes. I swear he spoke for an hour last night about how you could be such a "clotpole", whatever that means, but you were a good man. I can see why he would think so," Lancelot said.

"Yeah?" Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows. He was sure the warm feeling that filled his veins wasn't just from the mead.

"Of course, sire. I've only been here three days, yet I can see what kind of man you are. You genuinely care for your men, despite how harsh you can be on them. I can tell you just want what's best for them. You care for your people more so than I've seen most nobles. I'm proud to serve under a man like you, my lord," Lancelot said. He smiled gently at Arthur, the same smile he had seen him giving to Merlin. He was beginning to believe it may just be the way Lancelot always smiled.

"Lancelot, I don't know what to say."

Lancelot ignored him. "You know it's quite impressive that you would allow someone like Merlin to have such a high position within the royal household."

"If this is about him being deaf, so help me, Lancelot…"

Lancelot settled him with a look so sincere that Arthur stopped mid-threat. "All I'm saying is I admire you. Not many nobles would allow him such an opportunity. Especially with the freedoms you give him. The universe can sometimes seem unjust, taking his hearing from him in the way it did. Especially since Merlin's one of the kindest, gentlest people I've ever met."

"He is, isn't he?" Arthur said quietly, gazing fondly as Merlin twirled Morgana, who had at some point wandered over, and Guinevere to the beat of the song being played on the lute. His cheeks were flushed with happiness and the heat from all the bodies in the hall. Arthur watched as he threw back his head and laughed, and though he couldn't hear it, Arthur could imagine the sound as if he were right beside him. A joyous, twinkling laugh that filled up any space and immediately lifted the mood of any room.

When he turned back to Lancelot, the new knight was watching him amusedly. "What are you looking at, Sir Lancelot?" Arthur grumbled. "I can assign you to sentry duty for the next month, you know."

Lancelot chuckled quietly and gazed at Arthur over the brim of his cup. "Guinevere's quite something, isn't she?" he asked, allowing his eyes to wander to the same spot Arthur's had been just a moment before. A look shone in his eyes that Arthur had never seen on the man before.

But he'd seen it in the mirror plenty of times, especially after a certain clumsy manservant had just been through.

Seeing that look on Lancelot's face, not directed at Merlin, caused a wave of relief to wash over the prince that he wasn't too prideful to admit. Lancelot and Gwen would be perfect for each other. Both sweet, kind, soft-spoken people who would never try to hurt each other. Arthur could full-heartedly get behind the pairing.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, taking his turn to smirk amusedly at the knight. "I would say she is."

"This may seem too forward, and I apologize if that is the case, but do you know if she has anyone?"

"Her father."

"Sire, you and I both know that's not what I meant."

"I'm jesting. I don't believe so. At least not one that I've seen. Though, I will admit, I don't spend enough time around her to truly say for sure," Arthur answered truthfully.

"Do you think it would be wrong to ask for her hand in courting?"

"No, not at all. You, too, are a good man Lancelot, that much I have learned in the last three days. You would be good for each other. A girl like her won't be available forever. I say take the chance before you lose her."

Lancelot sighed and set his cup down. He clapped Arthur's shoulder, and the prince didn't shy away from the touch. It was actually nice. Steady, reassuring.

"I think I'll be turning in for the evening, but I will be giving what we talked about a shot, rest assured. Thank you for the wonderful evening, sire," Lancelot said. "You know, you may find it beneficial to follow your own advice. There are certain people who you have to take a chance on while you can. Like you said, some are too good for the rest of us to be available for long." Lancelot glanced to where Merlin was very animatedly telling the girls something in a flurry of signs and words.

Arthur couldn't help but feel that was a bit targeted.

Lancelot gave him one last smile before disappearing into the dissipating crowd of guests.

Why did it seem like everyone knew something he didn't?

The next day, Lancelot was gone.

Even after Arthur had found out it was all a lie, that Lancelot had never actually been the fifth son of Lord Eldred of Northumbria, or even nobility at all for that matter, Lancelot had still been one of the noblest men he'd ever known. He'd helped him to defeat the griffin even after being exiled.

And he'd protected Merlin. The great beast had swooped upon him from behind, nearly turning him into his next meal. Lancelot had stepped in to protect him.

Arthur couldn't be mad at someone who defended his manservant at risk to his own life.

As the prince watched Lancelot walk into the tree line, away from Camelot and the only dream he'd ever had, Arthur found himself sad to see him go.

With any luck, the man would be his knight someday once more.

Chapter Text

Falling in love with Sophia was…intense.

It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

But he wasn't sure that was a good thing. It didn't feel right. He was sure, however, that he had felt love before, true, powerful, wonderful love, and this wasn't it.

Falling in love felt like he was tumbling down a hill, head over heels, deeper and deeper into the pits of emotion until the subject of his affections had held every part of his heart. With Sophia, it felt more like he'd been shoved off a cliff and left to freefall into a dark abyss, not knowing what was below.

Yet, he couldn't stay away from her.

It had started out as nothing more than a matter of hospitality. He was being kind to Sophia because she had just been attacked by bandits in the forest and had her kingdom raided. He would have been an awful person had he not offered her his kindness after the traumatic events she had been through only days before.

He simply wanted to take her out in the woods to distract her, possibly learn more about her and her kingdom. Who knew, maybe a peace treaty of some sort could come out of their chance encounter.

"I'm taking Sophia out for a ride today," Arthur told Merlin. He was leaning against the post of his bed, arms crossed, watching as Merlin made up the sheets. "You know, show her around."

Merlin picked up the pillow he had slept on and pulled another over. Ah, so that's how Arthur's pillow somehow seemed to remain as puffy as ever every night. Merlin rotated them. "Where do I come into this?" he asked, pausing his ministrations of Arthur's comforter to watch the prince's lips. He was so used to it, that Arthur didn't even blink an eye at the action he at one time would have considered rude enough to be treasonous.

"I'm supposed to be on patrol with a guard of my father's this morning, so I need you to cover for me." Arthur said it matter-of-factly, but that didn't help the guilt. He felt like he was taking advantage of the raven whenever he used his unfathomable loyalty for his own gain. In truth, he also wanted to take Sophia out as an excuse to get out of the castle and spend time with someone new, seeing as the one he actually wanted to spend time with would have to be covering for him.

Not to mention he was putting Merlin at risk with his father. It was no secret that Uther wasn't at all fond of Merlin; he made it quite clear on multiple occasions he regretted ever giving Merlin the position in the first place. He would rant about how Merlin made the entire household look bad, to which Arthur could no longer hold his tongue and would end up getting into a shouting match with the king, defending his manservant's honor. To himself, Arthur thought giving Merlin the position as his manservant was the best decision the king had ever made. Merlin was certainly the best thing that had ever happened to Arthur.

"What? Lie to the king?" Merlin's eyes shifted to the side, nervous. "No, no way. He'll see right through me. He'll have me in the stocks quicker than you can say rotten tomatoes."

Arthur shifted, feeling even worse. Merlin was terrified of the stocks. He had found that out the hard way. Merlin had nearly had a panic attack after Arthur had sent him there for mouthing off to a visiting lord, just to keep up appearances. In reality, he should have had him flogged, but there was no way in the seven hells that was happening.

Even though Merlin had never technically told him what the panic had been about, it wasn't hard for Arthur to draw his own conclusions. Being restrained and having things thrown at his head wasn't exactly a good combination, Arthur knowing what he knew about his manservant's past.

Needless to say, Merlin hadn't been back to the wooden prison since. And Arthur would hate himself if he got him sent there just because he was going stir crazy.

But he just couldn't help himself. Something about Sophia was just so…compelling. "Merlin," he said, heart aching when the boy sighed shakily. "I need you to do this for me." And there was him taking advantage. He knew Merlin could never refuse him saying he was needed. He really was an ass.

So, why did he keep going?

"I am a terrible liar. I start sweating, my vision blurs, my brain stops working…"

Arthur rolled his eyes. The opening was right there. How could he be expected to pass up an opportunity to rile his manservant up a bit? "Hm, no change there, then."

Merlin looked at him with hurt in his azure eyes, not looking riled in the slightest. Immediately, Arthur felt bad. "Look, I promised Sophia I'd take her out, and if I don't turn up, it'll blow my chances."

Merlin's eyebrows shot up. His hands froze where they had nervously been wringing out the fabric of Arthur's sheets. A thousand things seemed to fly through Merlin's head in a matter of seconds before he sighed and his shoulders slumped, looking put-out. "You like her then?" Merlin asked quietly, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. But it was all wrong. It wasn't a Merlin smile. It barely even counted as a regular smile. It looked sad and pitiful, resigned.

"Yeah! What's not to like?" Arthur said despite the heavy stone of guilt and concern weighing in his stomach. She really wasn't bad to talk to at all, and he truly did like her. Not like Merlin, of course, no one could ever be like Merlin, but he would still like to enjoy the company of someone outside his normal pace.

Merlin turned away to tuck a final corner of the bedding in. "I want to spend some more time with her, but I need to get my father off my back."

Merlin didn't respond. Arthur grumbled and smacked him lightly on the shoulder so he would turn back around. "Why must you turn away in the middle of conversations? I know you do it on purpose, Merlin! You can't use your lack of hearing to ignore me. I am your prince!"

Now it was Merlin's turn to roll his eyes and huff exasperatedly. Arthur suppressed a smirk. "I can't order you to lie to the king, but you'll be a friend for life if you do."

Or more than a friend if you'd like he thought to himself.

Arthur and Merlin stared at each other for what felt like hours, Merlin's eyes flicking around as they searched the prince's face. Finally, his shoulders slumped further. "Go on, then. You don't want to keep her waiting."

Arthur grinned and clapped Merlin on the shoulder. "Thanks, Merlin. I won't forget it."

Arthur had felt concerned over Merlin's sudden sullenness. He wanted to find out what was wrong, to do anything he possibly could to make it better and get that smile back on Merlin's face where it belonged, but something held him back. All he could think about was spending time with Sophia. At the time, he hadn't thought anything strange. He only wanted to take a break from the citadel with a new face.

In hindsight, brushing off Merlin's obvious hurt should have been his first clue that something was horribly wrong.

His second clue should have been the fact that he had actually enjoyed holding Sophia's hand.

Never before had he been attracted to a woman. Even from a very young age, Arthur could remember enjoying the muscled physiques and battle-swept hair of the knights more than he ever had the lithe figures of the ladies. As he got older, he had accepted the fact that it wasn't about what he wanted, but rather what was best for his kingdom. He would marry a princess someday, and he would do so without complaint. That's what a good ruler did.

Then, Merlin had walked into his life. Ever since that day nearly eight months ago when Merlin had tried to take a swing at him on the training field, Arthur had only had eyes for the raven.

How could Arthur possibly be expected to give the unending line of eligible maidens his father paraded in front of him monthly even an ounce of his attention when Merlin was right there in the same room? How could Arthur possibly find make-up so over-the-top and dresses so flamboyant they hurt to gaze at attractive when Merlin was watching him with that soft look, all pale skin and high cheekbones?

Sophia had taken his hands in hers while on the way to the river. He was just about to remove them from her grip, for some unfathomable reason feeling like he was being unfaithful, when she had begun to whisper words in a foreign tongue.

Somewhere in his mind, he knew it was sorcery. He'd heard enough of the magic's evil tongue to recognize it. Unfortunately, he was too slow and the magic too quick.

His mind went blank. Every single thing he'd been thinking about, everything from how much fresher the air was out in the forest to the boy who occupied his mind all the time regardless, was forgotten. He couldn't think, he couldn't move, he could barely even breathe. His mind felt as if it were wrapped in one of his winter wool tunics, blocking any thoughts from being transmitted.

His limbs began to tingle. Starting at the tips of his fingers, a tingling warmth slowly traveled up his arms and to the rest of his body until it all surrounded his heart, moving in towards it-

And then it was gone.

Arthur felt cold, yet strangely relieved after it was gone. The warmth hadn't been unpleasant exactly, but once it was gone, it was as if his body realized something had been there that never should have been.

He didn't even truly know what had happened. It was as if he had blacked out of his own consciousness still standing on his feet. As much as he tried, with every passing second, his grasp on what had happened got foggier and foggier.

He had barely managed to tackle Sophia before the crossbow bolt imbedded itself into the tree directly behind where they had been standing only a moment before. As Arthur jogged up the hill to yell at the knights for nearly killing them, he thought he saw something akin to anger in Sophia's eyes.

He really didn't have the mental capacity to figure out what that was about.

His mental capacity hadn't been helped any when he arrived back to the citadel and learned that Merlin had, indeed, been sent to the stocks by his father for Arthur's little escapade.

He could still feel the ghost of Sophia's kiss lingering on his cheek, making his conflicting emotions all that much worse when he realized he didn't mind it.

So, it was the least Arthur could do for Merlin to be up and ready by the time the raven arrived to his room the next morning.

He almost regretted it when Merlin just smirked and snarked at him. He really needed to keep the boy from spending so much time with Morgana.

"You're dressed?!" Merlin cried in surprise, nearly dropping the armor in his arms.

Arthur bit his lip, inexplicably annoyed with his manservant's presence.

That should have been the third clue. He had never once been annoyed with Merlin's presence. Sure, he got annoyed with the boy all the time, but never enough to send him away. Just enough to give him the silent treatment for a few minutes.

"Nothing gets past you, does it, Merlin?" Arthur asked, saying it with his back turned just to spite him. He could be an ass, too.

"You're supposed to be wearing these!" Arthur could hear Merlin shaking his armor behind him to make his point. "Your father's bestowing a knighthood on one of your men this morning!"

Arthur turned his head over his shoulder so he was sure Merlin would know what he said next. "I'm giving it a miss."

He heard Merlin sigh behind him. "Wouldn't the king mind?" he asked in that curious, naïve voice of his. Usually, Arthur found it hopelessly adorable. Then, he had the sudden urge to smack him.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Arthur had to stop himself from visibly recoiling. Why the hell had he thought that? He had vowed long ago to never, ever raise a hand to a servant. That vow had only gotten stronger since he met Merlin. He was sure he'd rather break his own arm than raise a hand to the boy. What was wrong with him?

As quickly as the thought had come, it was passing, being replaced by that same brewing annoyance. "Not if you, uh, cover for me again," Arthur said coolly. It was easier this time, the words making him feel less guilty. The longing to see Sophia again was stronger than any urge he felt to keep Merlin out of the stocks.

He was just a servant. It's not like he deserved special treatment.

"By the way, thanks for yesterday. I heard you ended up in the stocks. Bad luck," Arthur said, smirking as he eyed the way Merlin flinched.

Merlin's feelings weren't a priority here. Seeing Sophia again was.

"They were throwing potatoes at me," Merlin whispered, eyes trailing to the floor, "It's only supposed to be rotten fruit."

Arthur barely held back a groan. "I'm not sure there's any hard and fast rules, but if it's any consolation, I think it was worth it."

A look passed over Merlin's face so quickly Arthur barely noticed it. He found it odd. Merlin's face had held the exact same expression the day before when Arthur told him he'd be taking Sophia for a ride. He was pretty sure it had bothered him. Why had it?

"It went well?" Merlin asked quietly, running his hand over Arthur's armor nonsensically.

"Great. Fantastic," Arthur's mind drifted as he thought of Sophia's long brown hair, her rosy cheeks under the afternoon sun. "She's incredible."

"Don't worry," Merlin said, looking resigned. "I'll find a way to get you out of it."

"Just make sure you don't end up in the stocks this time," Arthur grumbled as he walked towards his chamber doors, trying to escape the useless conversation and get to Sophia.

He barely heard Merlin's "I won't" as the doors closed behind him.

"Wait!" Arthur called as he ran after Sophia. She laughed in delight, the sound echoing throughout the woods. "Careful!"

He was flying through the woods, the wind whipping through his hair. He was running in a way he hadn't ran in a long time. The only time he'd ever felt so free was when he…

When was the last time he had felt so free?

He knew the answer. Somewhere deep in his heart, he did. And it wasn't here with Sophia.

Arthur stopped his momentum on a tree as Sophia turned around, her cloak billowing in the air around her. "Don't worry." She moved towards him. "I will be."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as Sophia continued forward. She didn't say a word, yet her eyes seemed to pick him apart, to hunt for the deepest parts of his soul with a single look.

It was unnerving.

Quietly, she began to chant in that same foreign tongue she had used during their last trip to the woods.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked warily.

She took his hands. Hers were soft in his, delicate in a way only appropriate for someone as elegantly beautiful as herself. Still, it felt all wrong. Her hands were too small, too perfect in his. They weren't the hands he wanted to be holding. The ones he wanted to be holding should have been calloused and strong, built on hard work, yet just as delicate as any maiden's.

As the words flooded his brain, the meaning behind that thought slipped farther and farther away until it was nothing but a blip at the end of his mind. The foliage around him blurred until all he saw was Sophia's face, lips soundlessly moving even as words penetrated his mind. They kept coming. Words he didn't understand.

The familiar tingle reappeared, travelling up his appendages with a fiery warmth until it once again surrounded his heart. Except this time, it didn't disappear. The heat only amplified until it was almost unpleasant, almost burning. His heart sped up until Arthur thought it was going to pound out of his chest.

Sophia's eyes glowed red.

It was all he could see.

It was all he wanted to see.

For the rest of his life. All he wanted to see was Sophia. Forever and always.

In the days that followed, Arthur barely saw Merlin.

He barely saw anything at all for that matter.

Every waking moment he spent thinking of Sophia. Every breath he took, every beat of his heart, it was all for Sophia.

When she spoke of being parted, Arthur felt anger like he never had before flare within him. No one would ever take him from his love. Nothing could ever part them. He would tear apart every kingdom before that happened. He would let hell rain down upon anyone who dared to touch his love.

So why, when he thought those powerful thoughts, did it feel as if he were not thinking of Sophia?

That couldn't be possible. There was no one else in the world for him.

Right?

Of course, he never doubted himself for long. He knew his feelings, and he knew he was in love with her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He wanted to give her the moon and the stars and anything else she could possibly ask for.

He also didn't have time for Merlin's dramatics. The few and far between times he saw the raven, he would seem distant and withdrawn, sadness practically flowing off him in waves. Only the gods knew what he could possibly be throwing a tantrum about this time. Arthur really didn't have the time, the patience, or the want to figure it out.

That was why he had requested the audience with his father. Though he had not approved, Arthur didn't care. He would have his love one way or another, without the king's approval or not.

He didn't need anyone's approval. Certainly not Merlin's.

It actually quite ticked him off when Morgana stormed out of the audience, following his theatrical manservant who had left the Great Hall in a blur, the door slamming definitively behind him.

If looks could kill, he was sure Morgana would have killed him on the spot.

What the hell was going on in his life anymore?

"Arthur," Sophia giggled as he pulled her by the hand through the halls, their hurried footsteps echoing off the surrounding stones.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere to be alone," Arthur said, throwing a grin over his shoulder at her.

A sly smile formed on Sophia's face as she tugged on his arm, pulling him to a stop in an empty hall. She pushed him up against the wall, smile widening along with his eyes.

"It seems we're pretty alone," she murmured, hands trailing down his sides. He pulled her waist closer as her eyes flashed red, that beautiful, wonderful red. Arthur loved red. It was Camelot's color, a symbol of power, and he especially loved red on those he sought after.

Sophia never wore red. How peculiar.

Her lips slowly floated towards his. The red snuffed out of her irises as her lids fluttered closed. Arthur felt his heartbeat speed up as her lips approached.

A muffled sob broke through their little bubble of silence, causing Sophia to wrench her lips away, leaving nothing behind but the ghost of a breath on his lips.

Arthur grumbled in annoyance as he strode down the hall, Sophia following curiously behind him. He held his hand out to keep her behind him, to keep her out of harm's way. The quiet sobbing trickled out from behind a broom closet at the end of the corridor, followed by indistinguishable voices.

Slowly, he reached for his sword, only to grasp at empty air. He cursed himself when he realized he had left it in his chambers in his haste to be with Sophia.

No matter. He would take on the assailant barehanded to protect his beloved.

He peered around the doorframe, fully expecting to have a body launched at him or a sword swung at his face, only to see Merlin on the ground, knees pulled to his chest, head buried in his arms. Morgana and Gwen were on either side of him, Gwen with her arms around him and her head on his shoulder and Morgana rubbing a hand over his shaking shoulders as they both spoke to him in quiet, gentle voices.

"What the hell is going on here?" Arthur demanded, irritated. Of course, his sniveling manservant would interrupt him and his lady.

Morgana's head whipped up, and her face morphed into one that Arthur could only describe as pure rage. Arthur thought he could count on one hand the number of times he had seen that particular look on Morgana's face in all the years they had grown up together.

"You absolute arrogant, selfish, pompous asshole, Arthur Pendragon!" Morgana shrieked. She pushed herself off the ground and stormed towards him, putting her hands on his chest and shoving with all her might. He stumbled backwards, more shocked than actually knocked off balance.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Morgana?" he demanded.

"Don't play innocent! You know what you did, you-you…uh! I can't even think of a word bad enough to describe you! You know, I knew you were a lot of things, but I never thought you could be this cruel, Arthur," she hissed in a very Morgana-like fashion.

"You have no right to accuse him of anything!" Sophia cried as she clung to Arthur's arm.

Morgana angled her withering glare towards the brunette. "You have no right to speak on matters that have no concern to you, you bitch!"

"Do not speak to her that way!" Arthur roared, seeing red. No one insulted Sophia and got away with it, not even Morgana.

"I'll speak to her however I very well please! Can't you see something's going on? Open your eyes, Arthur! I've tried to warn you, yet you're too pigheaded to listen! She's up to something; there's no way you could have fallen for another so quickly, especially her." Morgana wrinkled her nose as she looked Sophia up and down.

That was the final straw for Arthur. He had no idea what she was on about, saying he had fallen for another. There was no one else other than Sophia. There never had been, and there never would be. With a shout of anger, he grabbed Morgana's arms and pinned her to the wall, bringing his face withing mere centimeters of hers. "Watch your tone. I'll have you locked into the deepest, darkest cell in the dungeons for the rest of your days."

Morgana sneered at him. "Take your best shot. Because," she shoved his chest again, "you are despicable."

"Do tell what makes me so horrible, then. Because from where I'm standing, the only thing I'm guilty of is love. Why is that such a bad thing?"

"I'll tell you why," Morgana said. "It's because you wouldn't listen when I tried to warn you about Sophia. The fact that you so quickly "fell in love" with her is testament to trickery in itself. Your heart already fully belonged to another. And then you had the audacity to ask for your father's approval in marrying her in front of the one person you actually love. You love him, you know you do deep down! He does nothing but devote everything he has to you, and this is how you repay him. He loves you and you broke him, Arthur! This isn't real! What you have with Merlin, that's real! This isn't. None of this is!" Her chest was heaving even as Arthur advanced on her, towering over her with cold fury written across his face.

"Stop it! All of you stop it! Can't you see you're upsetting him more?" Gwen shrieked from where she was holding a trembling Merlin whose frame was still being wracked by silent sobs. He had both hands out in front of him now, his right one making a shaky chopping motion into his other palm, over and over again.

He was silently begging them all to stop.

Arthur felt something akin to guilt bloom in his chest. He had the sudden desire to hug his manservant and tell him how sorry he was. Sorry for what, he wasn't sure.

He took a tentative step towards the raven, reaching out like he was going to touch him. Gwen eyed him warily as she rubbed a hand over Merlin's shaking shoulder. The boy was rocking back and forth, arms wrapped tightly around his knees.

"Arthur," Sophia said, a warning in her voice. She grasped his bicep, and Arthur stopped in his tracks. "Come now, dear. She's delusional; she knows nothing of our love. You in love with the deaf bastard. It's almost laughable! Leave them. I would hate to see your kind heart torn between loyalties."

Gwen gasped, "Don't speak of him like that!" at the same time Morgana screeched, "Watch your tongue before I cut it from your mouth!"

Sophia tugged on Arthur's arm. The blonde looked between the imploring eyes of his betrothed to the anger filled girls and finally to his whimpering mess of a servant.

He followed Sophia down the hall.

Two days later, when Arthur awoke to Merlin and Gaius at his bedside, he immediately knew something was wrong.

The bits and pieces he could remember of the last few days were foggy at best. Merlin and Gaius filled in what they could, saying that he had eloped with Sophia and Merlin had only managed to get him back to Camelot by knocking him out with a piece of wood.

Something told him they weren't telling him the full truth. And it wasn't just because the idea of Merlin managing to knock him out was absolutely absurd.

Even though he may not have been told the truth, he wasn't fool enough to question it. Whatever had happened, everything had obviously worked out.

However, one look at his manservant and he remembered something that he almost wished he hadn't.

Even as he tried to subtly apologize to Merlin without letting the raven know what he knew, Arthur still couldn't bring himself to tell him how he felt. He just couldn't.

Still, as he nearly gagged at the thought of being with Sophia in the way he almost had and drowned himself in the guilt of it all, the prince knew Merlin was the one. He watched the raven as he swept the hearth, chattering away as if Arthur had never said or done the horrid things he had. The blonde had never heard a more wonderful sound.

Arthur knew then from that moment on, his heart would only beat for one boy. One beautiful, wonderful, sarcastic, idiotic boy.

Chapter Text

Arthur hadn't taken his eyes off Merlin in hours, silently watching the boy from the corner of his eye.

The way Merlin's shoulders seemed to tense up more and more with every step they took towards Ealdor hadn't escaped the prince's attention. Arthur could hardly blame him. Arguably the worst and most traumatic thing that had ever happened to him had occurred in the place they were directly headed for. Arthur wouldn't have been surprised if one sudden movement sent Merlin hightailing it back to Camelot.

But he knew he wouldn't. The boy was too stupidly loyal and selfless for that. Despite all he had suffered in the village and at the hands of its people, Merlin was still heading back to the place of some of his darkest memories to protect the very people who had nearly murdered him and taken his hearing from Kanen and his men.

If it had been up to Arthur, Merlin wouldn't have been stepping foot back in that village. He would have sent a small group of knights back with Hunith to dispose of the bandits and secure the village. It wouldn't have taken more than two days.

The decision hadn't been up to Arthur. It had been up to his father who quite adamantly denied any help to the tiny town. Arthur's heart went out to his manservant when he saw the crushed look on the raven's face. Even if the boy didn't care for most of the people in his village, it was still his hometown, still his mother's home. Besides, he was too compassionate to let anything happen to the people, even if they had abused and ostracized him his entire life.

Arthur didn't think he could possibly love the boy more.

That was why he had even come in the first place. When Morgana had told him her and Gwen were planning to go with Merlin, consequences be damned, Arthur would be lying if he didn't say he hadn't been jealous. Unlike the lady and her maidservant, he didn't have the luxury of being able to just pick up and leave without anyone noticing.

He had wanted to come, if nothing more than to offer some silent support to his manservant as he travelled back to face what would undoubtedly be many demons. But his father would never allow it. Morgana and Gwen were one thing, but for Arthur to leave under the king's nose, he'd have to be insane.

Well, they said love made you do crazy things.

Arthur watched as Merlin and his mother had a silent conversation as they rode along. He had been studying for nearly a year, yet Merlin had no idea. He had every intention of getting nearly fluent at it before surprising his manservant.

If he also wanted to gloat a little about learning it even without Merlin's help, that was neither here nor there.

As they approached the small village, all conversation between the party ceased. Merlin sat up straight in his saddle. Gwen and Morgana exchanged a sad look but kept quiet. Hunith looked as if she wanted to reach out and comfort her son, but even she held back.

Arthur had never claimed to be one for subtlety. He rode up next to Merlin and leaned over, jostling the raven and causing his horse to trot to the side. Merlin turned and narrowed his eyes.

"Look on the bright side: you don't have to do my washing for a few days." Arthur swore he heard Morgana groan and face palm behind him.

Merlin huffed and glared at him. "Yes, because gods forbid you learn how to take care of yourself."

"Merlin!" Hunith chastised with not a little bit of horror in her voice. Merlin just rolled his eyes, but a small smile graced his lips. Arthur took that as an accomplishment.

"I'm simply saying he wouldn't last a day without me, Mother."

"Oh, don't give yourself so much credit, Merlin. You're barely competent enough to keep yourself alive let alone me as well."

He thought he heard more snickering behind him. He'd have to have a talk with the girls later, not that it would do any good.

Merlin simply lifted his middle finger; a gesture Arthur didn't need to understand his language in order to interpret. He barely suppressed a smile as he lightly swatted Merlin's shoulder in annoyance. Never in his life had he met someone so brash yet so damn adorable all at once.

"By the gods, Merlin!" Hunith gasped. Morgana howled from behind them.

The moment of domesticity was broken by a scream coming from the direction of the village. Arthur didn't even glance at Merlin before forcing Llamrei into a full gallop, their party following close behind.

The sight that met them once they broke the tree line was horrifying. Kanen's men were pillaging the entire village. As their horses drew closer, Arthur could see the damage they were doing. One man ripped open a sack of flour, spilling its precious contents all over the muddy floor of a pig's stye. Another pried the lid off of a water barrel and tipped it over. A third trampled over a large garden of carrot tops, ripping some from the ground and tossing them into a wagon as he went.

What really made Arthur's blood boil was when he saw one of the bandits slap a young woman clutching a screaming baby. She couldn't have been any older than eighteen. An old man was roughly shoved to the dirt road as two raiders ripped apart a sack of rice he had been trying to heft into his home. A man was on his knees in front of who could only have been Kanen himself, looking as if he were pleading with the monster even as he raised an ax to strike him down.

Arthur had his own opinion about the people, and they weren't very friendly, but that didn't mean he was about to let starving people die at the hands of this man and his men. He threw his spare sword and watched as it imbedded itself in a post directly in front of Kanen. The bandit's head jerked up in surprise. His eyes widened slightly as he saw the prince galloping at full speed towards him, sword already drawn.

Arthur was dismounted and battle ready in one swift movement, already falling into a battle with a masked bandit. He vaguely heard the others ride up from behind him, and the sounds of other fights breaking out filled the space.

Even as he fought for his life, Arthur searched for his manservant. To the left, he saw Guinevere and Morgana wielding swords and taking on three bandits back-to-back; they were truly terrifying. To the right, he saw Hunith swing a rather large wooden bucket into a bandit's head, effectively knocking him out. But no matter how much he looked, he couldn't find Merlin.

Arthur felt the rising panic. With his utter lack of skill with a sword despite Arthur's numerous attempts to teach him, his utter lack of coordination, his lack of hearing, and his talent for attracting trouble, Arthur felt the panic pertaining to Merlin's whereabouts was justified.

In passing, he managed to catch sight of the boy some feet away. He was pinned up against the doorframe of a small hut with a sword in hand, a bandit two times his size pressing down with a sword of his own. Even from his position, Arthur could see a sheen of sweat across Merlin's forehead as his grip faltered and the sword came dangerously close to the raven's neck.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried, barely managing to parry a blow from an attacker of his own before he was decapitated. He carelessly shoved the bandit away, his eyes solely focused on Merlin as he shoved through the mess towards the boy.

Another raider stepped in his path, effectively blocking his view. "No!" he cried. Merlin couldn't hold out much longer. Fear crept up his spine. He made quick work of dispatching yet another bandit just in time to see Merlin staring down at the slumped form of his attacker. His chest was heaving, his sword was bloody, but he looked mostly unharmed.

Relief swept through Arthur like a cool breeze. Merlin looked up at the prince and smiled when he saw him looking. He gave a small wave. It was so Merlin-like that Arthur had to laugh.

(He would have to figure out how exactly Merlin had managed to kill the man later. It certainly wasn't the strangest thing he'd ever seen the boy do.)

"You'll pay for this! With your lives!" Arthur turned just in time to see Kanen fleeing towards the surrounding woods, what was left of his men following after him like dogs to their master. It was disgusting.

After they left, it was silent. No one seemed to be breathing, let alone moving. Finally, Arthur turned away from the direction Kanen had road off.

The townsfolk were all standing in varying degrees of shock. Some were clutching shovels defensively, others what meager remains of their food they could gather up. Somewhere in the crowd, a baby was still crying.

The one thing they all had in common: pure looks of disgust as they stayed as far away from where Hunith was checking on Merlin as possible.

That didn't sit right with Arthur.

That didn't sit right with him at all.

"Merlin!" he called pointedly, striding over and clasping the raven on the shoulder. The boy looked up, slightly alarmed, but relaxed upon seeing Arthur. "Come on. I'm sure these people have work to do after the attack and we need to start figuring out how we're going to handle it the next time Kanen and his men show."

He felt a hundred pairs of eyes on him as he followed Hunith towards a small house, hand still firmly on Merlin's shoulder. He was sure it wasn't everyday these people saw the Crowned Prince of the most powerful kingdom in the land defending them from attack as if he actually cared for them.

He didn't. The only reason he'd even come in the first place was for Merlin.

He was sure, too, to them, seeing Prince Arthur speaking to their village "freak" as if they were friends was like a kick to the crotch.

He'd like to actually kick some of them in the crotch come to think of it.

"Well, look at this. I never thought I'd see the day. The bastard's skivvying for a prince now."

Arthur narrowed his eyes and glared at a boy leaning in the shadows of a house. He looked to be about Merlin's age with short brown hair and tanned skin from hours spent in the fields. He wore the same simple clothes as Merlin, Hunith, and all the rest of the villagers: plain browns, blues, and grays made from spare bits of fabric.

Immediately, Arthur didn't like him. And it wasn't just for the bastard comment.

"I don't know who you think you are-"

Arthur was cut off when Merlin burst out laughing next to him. A grin spread across the stranger's face.

"I missed you too, Will," Merlin said around his laughter, surging forward to hug the boy, Will.

Arthur studiously tried to ignore how much he wished Merlin would hug him like that.

When they broke apart, Merlin suddenly gasped in a way that made Arthur's heart flutter. "I've got to introduce you! Arthur, this is Will. He's been my best mate since we were kids. Will, this royal prat here is Arthur."

Arthur scowled and smacked Merlin's shoulder. He said halfheartedly, "That's treason, Merlin." Merlin lolled his head back and grinned at the blonde. Arthur's heart practically melted.

As he spoke, Arthur caught sight of a new sign that could only be Will's name sign. It was three fingers up in a "w" followed by Merlin linking his two pointer fingers together and switching them in the sign for "friend". The implications behind that statement broke Arthur's heart. The fact that Merlin could use such an ambiguous term as "friend" for a name sign that was supposed to be specific enough to identify a person was awful.

Merlin identified Will as his friend.

Which meant it was person specific.

Which meant Will was Merlin's only friend. Not for the first time, Arthur wanted to cry for the raven-haired boy.

Will looked him up and down skeptically. "Not much what I expected of the Crowned Prince of Camelot, I'll say that much. But definitely your type, Merls."

"Will!" Merlin cried. His entire face burned the color of his neckerchief, clear up to the tips of his ears. Arthur sputtered while his brain momentarily reset itself. Finally, he managed a glare that he was sure wasn't half as scary as he was trying for.

Will raised his eyebrows and looked between the prince and his manservant. He let out a breath of air. "Wait, so you two aren't…" He gestured vaguely between them.

"I don't like what you're insinuating."

Will snorted and leaned back against the building. "Frankly, I don't give a damn what you like."

"William!" someone called from down the street before Arthur could reply.

Will glanced over his shoulder. "Well, best be off to feed the chickens before Mother has my hide. See you bright and early in the morning I assume, mate." He stepped back and bowed mockingly. "Your highness."

What kind of insolent people was this village turning out?

"Come on." Merlin gestured towards a small house at the edge of the road, right in front of where the town morphed into the forest. It was simple, bordering on dilapidated, made of roughly hewn stones and a thatched roof. Arthur could see there was no door. Instead, there was only a doorway covered by a sheet that surely did nothing against bitter winter winds. Gaps in the dried-mud mortar certainly didn't help either. Despite all of it, Arthur could tell the home was loved to the best of its ability. A small vegetable garden that looked well taken care of was attached to the side. A few flowers dotted the dry dirt ground with color.

The prince found it strangely charming.

Hunith was already inside, dishing out something from a pot into bowls on a simple slab of wood with benches that served as a table. The floor was packed dirt and the ceiling nothing but a few rafters and straw. To the left, there was a stone fireplace containing some dying embers, next to it, a wooden cupboard containing both dishes and some articles of clothing. To the right, a few stacks of books and randoms supplies like buckets and rope. A curtain cut the singular room in half and just behind it, Arthur could see a single cot with a clearly homemade quilt.

That was it.

Seeing it for himself filled Arthur with an odd feeling. He had realized his manservant hadn't grown up with much but being faced with the reality of it was so much more. There was clearly only one bed, and knowing Merlin's heart, he had a feeling Merlin was the one who slept on the floor. On top of that, from what he had heard, Kanen had been terrorizing their village for years. They barely had enough food as it was, having to export most of their supplies directly to Cenred, and then Kanen came and took what was left of their meager rations.

Things he had taken for granted, like having a full stomach every day and sleeping in a warm, soft bed, seemed to have been luxuries for his manservant. Just picturing a tiny Merlin, all bright-eyed and sweeter than ever, feeling the pain of starvation for days on end physically hurt Arthur.

Maybe letting the boy take a sausage off of his plate everyday wasn't so bad. He could certainly do without it, and from the looks of it, Merlin needed it more than him.

Hunith ushered them to the table where he took a seat beside Merlin. The bowl in front of him was filled with some mysterious liquid. It was thin and as gray as his bathwater. A few pieces of what looked to be rice floated in the liquid, blown up to two times their size from absorbing the foul liquid.

Arthur nearly gagged.

In his head, he understood that Merlin and his mother had little, and he should be grateful for the small bit of food Hunith had managed to scrounge up, even if it looked like she'd taken it from a mud puddle. He even felt a little guilty over accepting the faux broth when they were literally there to try and keep the rest of the people from starving to death.

No matter how much he told himself he was being absolutely awful and completely filling the role of the arrogant prince many thought him to be, he simply could not suck it up and push the food down. He didn't want to offend anyone by turning his nose up to the food, he wasn't that pompous, but he was also a prince and thus had been raised with certain standards.

He was disgusted with himself.

There was Merlin, practically inhaling the mysterious liquid without the slightest grimace. He was probably used to it and knew he had to eat whenever the chance presented itself because one never knew where their next meal would come from. There was Gwen, also unblinkingly eating the food. While she had never appeared starved like Merlin, she was still a peasant and therefore also knew the value of food. And then there was Morgana.

The king's bloody ward was even eating it! What was wrong with him?

"Thank you so much, Hunith. We know food is very scarce right now, but we truly appreciate your hospitality. It is very good for what little resources you have," Morgana said brightly.

Hunith smiled sadly. "Thank you, my lady, but you needn't be so kind. I'm sure this is nowhere near the standard you and Prince Arthur are accustomed to back in Camelot."

"Nonsense! We're all people here. No one is entitled to more than another," Morgana said. She pushed herself up from the table. "Now, allow me to do the dishes tonight."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly-"

"Please, Hunith. We are guests. It is the least I can do. Besides, I'm sure there is much for you to do before you retire for the evening. Allow me to take one thing from your workload."

Hunith sighed tiredly. Her thin shoulders slumped. "Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt if you insist. But I must be off to clean the pig's stye for the evening; we may soon need to resort to killing them for food."

Gwen jumped to her feet. "Oh, allow me to help!"

Hunith just smiled kindly at her, even though it looked for a moment as if she were going to argue. Arthur could tell where Merlin got his obstinateness from. After all, the apple supposedly didn't fall far from the tree.

Hunith simply gathered up some supplies and gently guided Gwen outdoors. Morgana gathered up the dishes and headed for a tub of dirty water Arthur had neglected to notice before. As she passed him, she leaned down and hissed in his ear, "You better eat that or you're going to be returning to Camelot missing a few key parts."

Arthur's eyes widened. He hurriedly pushed down a spoonful of the liquid, much to Morgana's smug pleasure.

Merlin also pushed up from the table. "I'd better get some firewood before the sun sets. It'll get cold tonight, and I don't think we want to be without."

Arthur was tempted to follow him, strangely concerned about him being outdoors by himself when Kanen's men could still be lurking about. Arthur's eyes followed him the entire time as he picked up an ax leaning against the door and headed out. After the flap had fluttered shut behind the raven, Morgana whistled. The prince's head snapped up.

"See something you like, Arthur dear?" She inquired teasingly.

Arthur's face burned. "Oh, shut up."

Morgana cackled.

A while later, Hunith sat in front of the dying light of a candle mending a skirt. Gwen was going about sweeping the packed dirt floor with a scraggly looking broom. Morgana was lazily perusing the small stack of books to the one side of the room, pulling one out every so often and flipping through the pages.

Arthur couldn't focus on any one thing.

Merlin was yet to return from going to get firewood, and Arthur would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit worried. He had spent some time practicing sparring maneuvers until he had nearly taken out the curtain separating Hunith's bed from the rest of the room. Now, he was anxiously pacing the length of the tiny house, stealing glances at the doorway every few seconds.

While Arthur admittedly knew nothing of chopping wood, he was sure it didn't take nearly as long as Merlin had been gone.

Hunith looked up from her sewing work to eye him softly. "Is everything all right, your majesty?"

No, everything was not alright. Merlin wasn't back yet, and it was already well after dark. The gods knew his manservant attracted trouble like flies to honey. What if he was hurt? What if he had been kidnapped? What if he was in danger, and Arthur wasn't there to protect him? What if he was scared, and Arthur wasn't there to comfort him?

Okay, he had no idea where the last one came from. Still, it wasn't a bad thought.

"Does it usually take so long to retrieve firewood?" he asked, glancing again at the sheet like Merlin would magically appear if he looked at it enough.

That would never happen, of course. Magic was outlawed.

But if magic brought Merlin to him right then? He might not mind it so much.

"Hm, I supposed he has been gone a while," Hunith murmured, slight worry creasing her forehead. Gwen looked up imploringly at Arthur with worry of her own clearly shining across her gentle features.

Arthur reached for his sword leaning near the doorway. "I'm going to look for him."

Outside, it was pitch black.

Arthur wasn't used to it. In Camelot, it was never this dark. Even at night, there was always torches glowing in every hallway, and even outside the citadel. There was always the soft glow of a dying fire in his chambers, something Arthur would admit Merlin was very good at keeping up with. In the lower towns, one was guaranteed to find a few candles dotting the windows of the houses no matter what hour of the night.

Here, in Ealdor, there was nothing like that. He had thought it dark inside Hunith's home, but it was nothing compared to the outdoors. Not a single flame could be seen in any window. The air was so inky black that Arthur felt as if it may swallow him whole and he would never be found again.

In hindsight, he probably should have brought a torch.

Even so, he pushed on. His worry for Merlin was more all-consuming than the night could ever hope to be.

Using his hands to guide himself along the buildings in the direction he vaguely remembered there being a community wood pile, Arthur somehow managed to arrive at the end of the lane. The faint glow of a torch graced the night from behind the last house. Arthur could hear voices.

The prince pressed himself up against the rough stones. Merlin had gone alone as far as he knew. There shouldn't be anyone with him, especially since these people had to get in all the sleep they could whenever possible. He doubted that whatever was going on was just a friendly chat.

"…think you can just come back here whenever you want."

Someone laughed. "Yeah, he thinks just 'cause some asshole prince is using him as a bed warmer that he can strut around here like he's worth somethin'."

Anger flared in Arthur. That one sentence was all he needed to hate whoever the voices were. Arthur knew without a shadow of a doubt that even if they were some sort of nobility, Merlin was still worth a thousand of them.

"You shut your damn mouths! Arthur is a better man then any of you will ever be!" There was the sound of flesh meeting flesh and a low grunt of pain.

Arthur bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood. He had known it was a bad idea to allow Merlin to go by himself, especially with his background in Ealdor. But because the raven was more stubborn than a boar, Arthur hadn't tried to stop him. He had been expecting some negative reactions on all accounts when they arrived in Ealdor, but never actual assault. What made it so much worse was even as Merlin was being beaten by people who had no doubt done it his entire life, he was still defending Arthur.

When they got back to Camelot, they were going to have a serious talk about Merlin's self-preservation skills.

"Listen to him, guys! Seems now that he's getting screwed by a royal, he thinks he can just talk to us like that and get away with it!"

More dark, predatorial laughter.

Arthur couldn't believe the audacity these boys had. To insinuate that Arthur would use Merlin in such a way! It made Arthur almost sick just thinking about it.

Despite what he might fantasize about his manservant while he lay alone in his bed, Arthur would rather fall on his own sword than do that to Merlin. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white.

"It's nothing like that! I'm his manservant, nothing more."

Arthur wasn't even going to acknowledge how much those words hurt him to his very core. Merlin was so much more than his manservant, even if he wasn't quite what Arthur would like him to be.

"So, you deny having any sort of feelings for him?" One of the voices inquired, malice practically oozing from his words.

For a moment, there was silence. It was soon broken by the roaring laughter of the entire group. "Aww, poor baby's pining for his knight in shining armor. Hey, make sure you hold the torch high so the deaf freak can be sure to see what I'm about to say next." There was a small pause. "I'm gonna let you in on a little secret, bastard. He doesn't care an ounce about you. I bet if we killed you right now, he'd have you replaced in a matter of days. You'd be nothing more than a fleeting thought in his head as he signed the papers for a new servant."

"He's probably slipping the prince some sort of potion, anyhow. No way someone like him could ever want to be with this monster. He can't even hear! I doubt the prince even knows what he's trying to say with those stupid hand motions he's always making. Knew we shoulda made sure you were actually dead in that well."

That was it. He couldn't stand back and listen to a second more of this. No one, absolutely no one, got to threaten Merlin. Arthur saw red. He marched out from his hiding spot and grabbed the tunic of the nearest boy, some kid with hair as red as fire.

If he hadn't been so furious, Arthur probably would have laughed at the looks on all their faces. There were four boys in total, all surrounding his poor manservant on the ground. He whirled around with the boy's shirt still firmly in his grasp and slammed the body up against the building he had been hiding in only a moment before. The red head slumped to the ground with a satisfying thump. In one swift movement, Arthur swung his sword around and stopped the blade an inch from another boy's, this one brunette, throat.

Arthur got a sick sense of glee from seeing the look of pure terror on the boy's face.

"How about I bash your head in and shove you down a well, huh? We'll see how you like it." Arthur hissed.

The boy's eyes widened impossibly farther. "I-I…p-please, sire…"

Arthur scoffed. "Pathetic. You're nothing but a bunch of cowards. Get pleasure out of torturing little kids, do you? You enjoyed taking a little boy's hearing?"

"I…we, um…"

"I'm going to let you in on a little secret of my own." He stabbed his sword into the earth so it would stand of its own accord. He needed both hands. He wanted to prove to Merlin's abusers that the raven mattered more to him than almost anything, no matter what notions they had gotten into their heads.

He took a deep breath to clear his mind and called on his year of lessons and studies as he skillfully began to sign. "You're just jealous that Merlin has a life while the rest of you will never make anything of yourselves. Merlin says that none of you will ever be half the man I am. Well, I disagree. None of you will ever be half the man he is. You just can't get over the fact that he has more guts than any of you could ever hope to and managed to pick himself up and move on despite the horrific thing you did to him."

Arthur was sure his face was bright red with exertion and fury. The three boys still in front of him were gazing up at him in a mixture of shock and pure terror. Arthur loved it.

"There. Now, get out of here before I run you all through with my sword. If I ever even hear that you were bothering Merlin again, I will personally hunt each one of you down, and there will be hell to pay. Move!"

The prince had never seen people move so fast. They scrambled over to the red head he had knocked unconscious before and dragged him away into the darkness, leaving only Arthur and his manservant, who was still on the ground and looking at Arthur in a similar state of shock.

Arthur knelt in front of the raven and moved the abandoned torch to get a better look at him. There was an angry red mark on his left cheek that would be replaced by a dark purple bruise come morning. A small trail of blood trickled down from a cut. One of the boys must have been wearing a ring.

Arthur tamped down his anger, knowing it would be of no help to either of them. "Are you hurt anywhere else, Merlin?"

Merlin swallowed hard and shook his head, still looking at Arthur in shock. "You-you…"

Arthur raised his eyebrow. "What is it?"

"The-the signs…you learned my signs. When? How? What…" he stumbled over his words.

Arthur smiled softly. "Of course, I did, you fool. Gaius has been helping me to learn for nearly a year since someone wasn't going to offer to teach me."

"Sorry," Merlin murmured sheepishly.

"Yeah, well, I think it had quite a nice effect, don't you?"

"Definitely," Merlin said with a small smile. "But…you really took time out of your schedule just to learn my signs?"

Arthur lifted his hand and before he could stop himself, rested it on Merlin's cheek and brushed the blood away with the pad of his thumb. For the briefest moment, Merlin leaned into his hand, his eyes fluttering shut. Arthur's heart may have skipped a few beats.

"Yeah, I did."

He pulled back and offered Merlin his hand. His heart sank at the loss of contact. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."

Chapter Text

Once they got back to the house, the weight of the whole encounter seemed to hit Merlin all at once.

They were barely across the threshold when Merlin's legs buckled. If it hadn't been for the hand Arthur had steadily kept on his shoulder, the boy would have hit the floor.

"Woah, woah. Hey, easy. You're okay," Arthur said quietly as he sank to the floor with Merlin.

"Merlin!" Gwen cried. Hunith looked on worriedly even as she got up to retrieve a bowl of water and a cloth.

"Arthur? Merlin? What happened?" Morgana asked. She hurriedly got up from where she'd been sitting at the bench and came towards the pair. She stopped suddenly when Arthur held up his hand.

Merlin was trembling, staring at the dirt floor beneath them in a wide-eyed expression. Arthur squeezed his shoulder gently. "Merlin? You're safe. They're never going to bother you again, especially if I have anything to do with it."

Merlin lifted a shaking hand to his mouth as he choked out a sob. His azure eyes filled with tears. Arthur's heart shattered in his chest.

"Oh, Merlin," he murmured. His manservant collapsed against his chest, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around the boy. Arthur had to marvel at how perfectly he fit into his arms, almost as if he had been meant to be there all along.

"Shh," the prince whispered into his raven locks. Morgana was there, too, softly running her hand up and down Merlin's back. Merlin had one hand tightly fisted into Arthur's tunic, the other tracing frantic patterns over his arm as he shook and cried.

Arthur glanced down. "What's he doing?" he quietly asked Hunith, who had crouched next to them with her supplies.

Hunith didn't even have to look to know what Arthur was referring to. "He's trying to say something. When he was very small, especially after the accident, he was sick often. He was usually too weak to sign, so I figured out a way to communicate. It takes a while, but he traces the letters of the words into your skin. In this case, I think he's too overwhelmed to even sign, let alone speak."

She brushed her fingers against his neck. Merlin flinched but didn't look up. She sighed and gently took the hand tracing inane patterns on Arthur's arm into her own. Carefully, she began to trace letters into the palm of his hand.

Arthur watched quietly. He knew it wasn't his place to intrude on the moment between the mother and son, as did Morgana. They both sat and comforted Merlin in their own ways. Gwen hovered somewhere nearby, just in case she was needed.

After some time, Merlin lifted his head to reveal skin as pale as snow and puffy, red eyes. He was still clinging to Arthur with one hand, whether he was aware of the fact or not, and gazing in wonder at his mother.

"That's it, darling," she said, "Nothing to be afraid of now."

While the raven was distracted, Gwen moved in with the wetted cloth and carefully began to wipe away the evidence of the events that had transpired that evening. Merlin gave no sign he even felt her wiping away the crimson trail.

"There we are," Hunith said brightly, stroking Merlin's cheek.

Merlin gazed around dazedly. Slowly, he removed his vice-like grip on Arthur's shirt. "I'm sorry," he whispered, ashamed.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Morgana said. Arthur ruffled Merlin's hair affectionately, happy when it earned him an indignant squawk and a side-glare.

"'Gana's right, Merlin. You've nothing to apologize for."

"You should get some rest," Gwen said softly, leaning around his back to let him get a look at her face.

Merlin gazed at the floor. "I am a bit tired."

That admission in itself was enough to tell Arthur just how much the entire ordeal had taken out of his manservant. Merlin was as stubborn as a mule and would be the last one to admit to defeat, especially to something as trivial as being tired. He'd work until he physically couldn't any longer and had many times before.

"Alright, up you get," Arthur said. He slipped his hands under his arms and pulled the raven off the floor in one go.

"I'm not a child, Arthur!"

"That's debatable."

"Bring him here," Hunith said, pulling back the quilt on the bed.

Merlin's eyes widened as he frantically began to shake his head. "No. Mother, that's your bed. I won't-"

"Oh, hush. I can survive one night on the floor."

Merlin planted his feet, only struggling more when Arthur tried to literally drag him to the bed. "I won't let you. I've slept on the floor my entire life. There's no need to change that now. I'm fine, see?" He gestured vaguely towards himself.

Arthur scowled and opened his mouth to retort that he was absolutely not fine, but he was stopped by Morgana's hand on his shoulder and a small shake of her head.

"Alright. I suppose I can't really tell you what to do any longer. Not that I ever could to begin with." Hunith smiled to herself. She went to a chest on the other side of the bed and pulled out a stack of blankets, handing one to each of them.

"I'm sorry I cannot offer better accommodations. This certainly isn't fit for you, your majesties."

"Oh, Hunith, you've done more than enough. This is more than we could have possibly asked for," Morgana said sweetly. Hunith sighed.

"Well, I suppose I'll speak to all of you in the morning."

"I'll make sure this halfwit gets some sleep," Arthur said with a cheeky smile in Merlin's direction. Merlin glared.

Hunith chuckled quietly. "That would be much appreciated, sire."

In the days that followed, Arthur never saw even a glimpse of the boys who had been there that night. They weren't with the rest of the men as Arthur trained them for the upcoming battle. They weren't at the village meetings or speeches Arthur gave.

Maybe they weren't as stupid as Arthur had thought. Or they were at least smart enough to know that should Arthur see them again, the consequences would not be in their favor.

Arthur was holding true to his word. If they ever touched Merlin again, if they ever spoke to him like that again, they'd find themselves at the bottom of the well. And Arthur would be sure to finish the job.

The morning of the final battle with Kanen, Arthur would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He had been working with the men in the village for days, and he had seen firsthand the kind of fighters they were.

Their odds didn't look great.

Sure, there were some good fighters amongst them, Will being one, but when you got down to it, their entire existence revolved around planting and harvesting, producing enough merchandise to appease both Cenred and Kanen while keeping enough to barely scrape by winter after winter.

They weren't soldiers, but Arthur could tell they wouldn't go down without a fight. This was their land, the only life they had ever known. They would defend it at all costs.

No matter how much Arthur despised them, he had to admire their dedication.

Ducking inside Hunith's home, Arthur saw Merlin in his chainmail, fumbling with the clip on his gauntlet.

Merlin practically swam in Arthur's spare chainmail, but the prince found it adorable. Not to mention he felt a strange, almost possessive fire burn through him at the sight of Merlin wearing something that belonged to him.

Arthur watched as Merlin's shaking hand failed to clip it once again when he finally took pity on the boy and stepped forward to help, gently taking his wrist in his own hand.

"You know, it's okay to be scared, Merlin."

His manservant looked up sharply. "I'm not."

"Of course, you aren't."

Arthur finished buckling the gauntlet and looked up, meeting Merlin's azure eyes with his own cerulean ones. The prince could stare into the other boy's eyes for all of eternity. He felt like he was drowning in them, but strangely, he wasn't lost. No, he felt right at home.

Arthur's eyes trailed down to where Merlin nervously chewed on his pink lips, eyes flicking around the small hut. His hand drifted up as if to touch the raven's cheek, similar to the way he had on that night, but pulled back at the last second.

"You ready?"

Merlin pulled away, a look of disappointment flitting across his face for the briefest moment. "Whatever happens today," he whispered, "please don't think any differently of me."

Arthur searched Merlin's soft features. "Don't worry, I won't." How could he ever think any differently of Merlin?

Merlin played with the bottom of the chainmail. He looked as if he didn't know what to say. He chewed on his lip again, the simple action sending flames of want to every nerve ending in Arthur's body.

He could die today. He woke up every morning knowing that, but today was different. It may be his last chance standing there with Merlin. He'd been a coward for nearly a year. Arthur Pendragon was not a coward.

"Damn it all," he sighed under his breath as he stepped forward again and took Merlin's hands.

"Arthur, what-"

The prince cut him off with his lips on his. For a moment, Merlin stood stalk straight, and Arthur briefly feared that he had misinterpreted everything for the last year. He was just about to pull back when Merlin practically melted into him.

Merlin was kissing him back!

If Arthur's mind hadn't been bursting with color, he would have been jumping up and down with joy in a very unbecoming manner.

Everything around them drifted away as Arthur zeroed in on the feeling of Merlin's lips under his. They were slightly chapped, yet warm and unbelievably safe. As he kissed the boy who owned his heart, he felt as if they could take on the world. Kanen and his men wouldn't stand a chance.

Arthur gently pushed Merlin back until his legs bumped the table. For the briefest moment, they broke for air, but Arthur didn't allow it to go on for long. Now that he'd experienced it, he thought he'd never get enough of kissing Merlin.

Arthur easily lifted the raven on to the table. One of Merlin's hands was on Arthur's chest, the other tangled into his blonde locks in the most wondrous way.

Arthur's hands traveled down to Merlin's waist. His calloused and battle-worn hands brushed the exposed skin where Merlin's shirt and the chainmail had ridden up slightly. The boy shuddered under his touch.

Merlin sighed happily as Arthur explored with both his mouth and his hands. One hand travelled up to rest on Merlin's stomach beneath his shirt, the other squeezing his hip with just the right amount of pressure. Not enough to bruise, of course, he would never hurt Merlin, but enough to keep the raven grounded. The skin-to-skin contact sent sparks of electricity through Arthur until it felt like every last nerve in his body was positively on fire.

Arthur broke away and began a trail of kisses down Merlin's jaw, stopping briefly to leave a tender kiss right behind his ear, before finally making it to his neck.

The prince gently worked a line of kisses and small nips down his pale neck, Merlin making small noises and gasps all the while, until he finally got to where lithe body became offending clothes.

With a sigh of resignation, knowing they could no longer avoid the inevitable by staying in their little bubble of paradise, Arthur pulled away. Merlin whined softly at the loss of contact.

Arthur chuckled. He stroked his cheekbone, taking in the sight before him. Merlin's eyes were bright and dilated, his cheeks blooming with color. His hair was mussed, more so than usual, but Arthur found the sight absolutely beautiful. Merlin was breathing a bit heavier than normal through slightly swollen and red lips.

Arthur rested his forehead against the other boy's, allowing his eyes to flutter closed as he just took in the scent that was indescribably Merlin.

"Merlin," Arthur whispered because he had no other words, knowing that the boy wouldn't hear it.

"I suppose we have to go out there now, huh?"

Arthur swallowed against the lump in his throat, nodding mutely. After what they had just shared, after everything they had been through, the last thing in the entire world Arthur wanted to do was go out there and look death in the face.

Merlin softly stroked down his spine. Arthur had never felt so comforted by a single touch before. Merlin took the prince's face into his hands. "No matter what happens today, Arthur, just remember this moment, yeah?"

"Always."

Merlin laughed and lightly smacked his back. "Sap."

Arthur nuzzled Merlin's neck and smiled into the skin. He reached up and traced "yes" into Merlin's chest without looking.

The moment was effectively broken when Morgana appeared in the doorway of the house. "They've crossed the river."

She paused, gaze flicking between Arthur who was gazing anywhere but at his foster sister and Merlin who was half off the table, cheeks tomato red with embarrassment. A knowing grin spread across her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" She asked innocently.

"Get the hell out, Morgana," Arthur muttered. She giggled in a very un-Morgana-like way.

"For your sake, Merlin, I hope he's a good kisser. The gods know he doesn't have much going for him in the intelligence department."

She disappeared before the mound of hay Arthur threw could meet its target.

"Time to go," Arthur said quietly. He led the way outside.

Hunith was waiting for them across the street. Merlin strayed away to speak with Will. Hunith smiled kindly at Arthur. He briefly wondered if this was what it felt like to have a mother's love.

Her eyes watched Merlin speaking animatedly to Will with his hands. The deepest love Arthur had ever seen in a person was in her eyes as she gazed at her son. The prince's heart ached.

"I would lay down my life for him without a moment's hesitation," she said, "I love him more than life itself. No matter how old he is, he will always be my little boy."

She turned back to Arthur. "However, I believe it is time for me to allow someone else the privilege I've had all these years. Knowing Merlin. Loving Merlin." She watched him carefully.

Arthur felt his cheeks heat with color, and he shifted from foot to foot. It was such a foreign feeling for him, embarrassment, that he didn't know how to handle it. He was the Crowned Prince of Camelot; he didn't get embarrassed.

He was beginning to believe that statement was a load of crap.

"It's alright. If it had to be anyone, I'm glad it's you, sire."

His gaze softened as he looked at the wonderful woman who had taken them all in, who had raised Merlin alone and struggled through so many hardships, who had sent her only son away so he could have a better life than she could provide him with.

"Thank you, Hunith. But please, call me Arthur."

"Alright." She smiled. "Arthur."

She patted his shoulder as Merlin wandered back over. They spoke quietly for a moment, backs turned to Arthur. When they were finished, mother and son embraced.

Then Arthur got slammed with a revelation unlike any other.

"I love you, my son," Hunith murmured. She held up her hand, sticking out her thumb, pointer, and pinky fingers.

Arthur was suddenly sent back many months to a time when him and Merlin were much less acquainted, yet the prince had still risked everything to save the life of an easily replaceable servant. Just before said servant had drunk from a poisoned chalice, he had made the same exact sign towards him.

Merlin had thought he was going to die. He had been trying to tell Arthur he loved him!

All this time, all these many months, Arthur had been trying to suppress his feelings, trying to find any excuse to ignore them and dance around them with the fear of rejection looming over his head like a storm cloud. In reality, Merlin seemed to have been waiting on him for a lot longer.

Why Gaius had never taught him that sign was beyond Arthur. Maybe the old physician thought he had no use for it. Maybe he had simply forgotten. Either way, Arthur couldn't help but feel resentful. If he had just learnt the damn thing, they could have realized their feelings months ago and saved both of them a fair amount of heartbreak, not when they were both about to enter a fight that would surely be suicide.

That was something to be dealt with later. Because just then, Kanen's army broke through the tree line.

Everything had been going splendidly, despite Merlin's little stunt to try and help Morgana light the fire.

All the villagers had stayed hidden until Arthur's signal just as he had said. Gwen and some of the others had pulled up the spiked barrier at the last second, effectively spooking some of their horses and causing them to have to turn around and go back the way they had come. Eventually, Morgana and Merlin managed to get the fire started.

Everything erupted into chaos. All around Arthur, there was fighting. Some, like himself, Morgana, and Merlin, were armed with actual swords, but most had nothing but wooden staffs and what gardening tools they could scrounge up.

Still, they were holding their own.

Arthur tried to keep track of Merlin in the midst of it all, but there were simply too many people. Every so often, he would catch a glimpse of raven hair or the glint of chainmail, but it would be gone, lost into the sea of bodies, just as quickly as it had been there.

Somewhere behind him, Gwen and Morgana were holding strong just as he had expected them to. He had to admit, having the women there had been the right call. They knew how to fight, and they added power to their numbers. He'd have to apologize to them later.

That was a conversation he definitely looked forward to.

Suddenly, almost like someone had flipped some sort of switch, everything went to hell.

The people began to get overwhelmed. They tired and weakened, not used to all the fighting even after a few days of training. When it came down to it, they weren't knights; they were simple farmers, and Arthur needed to keep that in mind.

People were screaming. Some of the townsfolk began to fall. Morgana got knocked to the ground behind him. Hunith got struck across the face.

Just ahead of him, Arthur could see Merlin and Will standing side-by-side through a break in the crowds. They each gripped a bloody sword, bodies of raiders littered around them.

Arthur couldn't help the swell of pride that filled his chest.

That's when he noticed something was off. The wind had picked up unnaturally, swirling dirt up from the ground in a small whirlwind. It grew and grew right before his eyes until it towered over every building in the entire village.

People everywhere were blown off their feet. Kanen's men fled, some being drug along the ground by their horses, others running for their lives on nothing but their feet.

Arthur couldn't even appreciate the victory because of what was in front of him.

That tornado had not occurred naturally. Things like that didn't just happen. Besides, Arthur had seen strange things enough in his life to know what they usually entailed.

Sorcery.

And the only two people close enough to be the culprits were Merlin and Will.

No. It couldn't be. There was absolutely no way that Merlin would consort with a sorcerer. And it was even more impossible that Merlin himself could be the sorcerer. Arthur's heart shattered. No matter what, Merlin would never forgive him.

"Who did that?" he demanded, stabbing his sword into the packed earth.

"What?" Merlin asked.

"Wind like that doesn't just appear from nowhere. I know magic when I see it. One of you made it happen." It sounded like an accusation. It was an accusation.

The words tasted like acid in his mouth.

Merlin and Will shared a look. "Arthur…" Will trailed off.

"Arthur, look out!" Merlin cried, throwing himself into the prince just as the sound of a crossbow bolt being launched echoed through the air.

Chapter Text

It all happened so fast.

Arthur barely heard Merlin shouting about the crossbolt over the blood pounding in his ears. One moment the raven was standing under his withering stare as he tried to figure out whether it was him or Will who was the sorcerer.

The next, Arthur found himself lying on the ground, stunned, with Merlin on top of him.

The prince had a sick sense of déjà vu to when the two had found themselves in the same position during that fateful banquet that would bring them together irrevocably.

Some part of Arthur's brain must have still been functioning properly because he shoved Merlin off of him, maybe a bit too roughly, and scrambled for his sword lying abandoned in the dirt. With one swift blow, he effectively ended Kanen's reign of terror.

He almost didn't want to turn back around. He would almost rather stare at the sorry excuse for a human being he had just murdered than turn back around and look into the faces of two people who could both be sorcerers. While he hadn't known Will long, Merlin trusted him with his life, so by extension, so did Arthur. He had thought Merlin to be a good judge of character that way.

Now, he couldn't be sure anything he knew about the boy was true. Especially if it turned out he was the sorcerer. Arthur was sure he would never recover from the absolute devastation and heartbreak that revelation would bring should it come to pass.

Alas, he couldn't stand staring at Kanen's corpse forever. He took a deep breath, an attempt at calming the fury once again rising in him now that the immediate threat had been taken care of and turned back around.

He wished he hadn't.

Merlin still hadn't risen from the ground. Arthur almost rolled his eyes, a comment about what a lazy sod his manservant was right on the tip of his tongue. That was, until he noticed Will kneeling next to him, concern painted on his face as he gripped Merlin's shoulders.

"Oh gods," he was muttering over and over again like a prayer. Perhaps it was. "Merlin, mate, just…just hang on."

Will looked up at him, panicked and pale. "Don't just stand there! Get over here!"

Arthur's eyes widened. Whatever anger had been raging inside of him was momentarily snuffed out. Merlin was curled on his side, back to Arthur, but the steadily spreading puddle of crimson staining the ground around the boy told Arthur everything he needed to know.

The villagers cautiously formed a crowd, not getting too close to Merlin, but close enough to see what the commotion was all about.

"Merlin!" Gwen cried, shoving past Arthur from behind without a second glance in the prince's direction. Morgana and Hunith were right on her heels, despite the numerous cuts and bruises he could make out on all three women.

Morgana crashed to her knees next to Will. For once, she didn't seem to care about her clothing. Her hands flitted around Merlin's shuddering body, clearly unsure where to touch. Hunith gently moved her aside so she could kneel next to her son. Morgana shuffled back to cling to Gwen.

"Oh, my darling," Hunith whispered. She gently brushed away a lock of Merlin's hair and shushed him softly. Turning to Will, she said, "We need to get him back to the house. I'll be able to assess him better if he's lying somewhere flat and elevated."

Will nodded hurriedly and scooped Merlin into his arms in one swift movement. Merlin groaned in pain. Will winced guiltily. "Sorry, Merls. We're gonna get you feelin' better though, yeah?"

The party took off towards Merlin and Hunith's home, Hunith shoving nosy villagers aside with little regard to make room for Will cradling Merlin.

Suddenly, there were hands on both of his arms. He jumped back slightly, startled. He hadn't even realized he was still glued to the exact same spot he had been when he had turned from staring at Kanen's body.

"I know this is a lot, Arthur, and I know you haven't processed it all yet, but now's not the time. Merlin's hurt, badly. He needs you," Morgana said quietly. Her and Gwen were not-so gently yanking him in the direction Will and Hunith had headed with Merlin.

Arthur barely heard her. He couldn't even feel his own legs moving beneath him. He was numb. Or maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was feeling so many things at once he just couldn't decide which one to focus on. Either way, his mind eventually settled on one thought that sat heavy in his stomach like he had swallowed a stone.

"Merlin's the sorcerer, isn't he?" He asked the girls quietly, emotionless. A few moments passed. He was sure they were sharing a look, having a silent conversation much like Merlin and he had when things were normal, when things made sense, and his best friend in the entire world and the love of his life wasn't currently in danger of dying and most likely the very thing Arthur was supposed to hate.

Sometimes, Arthur had to wonder what immortal being he had pissed off at some point in his life in order to find himself in the situations he did.

"He is," Gwen said softly, carefully testing the waters of Arthur's emotions.

Arthur stiffened. "And you knew. Both of you." It wasn't a question, nor was it an accusation. It was a simple statement; it was nothing more than a realization Arthur was sure he should have made many months ago. It made sense, after all, that the two women had known all along.

In his confused and emotion-muddled mind, Arthur couldn't even bring himself to be angry with them for not telling him. He felt nothing.

"We did," Morgana said stiffly without an ounce of fear or hesitation in her voice. Damn her.

They were standing inside the house before Arthur even realized he had moved. It was dimmer in there, the room only lit by a small fire and a candle sitting on the table next to Hunith's bed where Merlin's prone figure was currently laid.

Hunith was bent over her son while Will nervously fidgeted off to the side. Gwen and Morgana wasted no time in rushing to Merlin's bedside. Arthur remained in the same spot the girls had left him.

Hunith straightened suddenly. "We need to remove the arrow. Usually, one would be expected to leave it in to keep blood loss to a minimum until a physician arrived, but we are not so lucky. Leaving it in any longer is only going to do more internal damage that will be more difficult to fix later."

Gwen gasped softly and covered her mouth. Will went a few shades lighter. Morgana, for her part, remained fairly impassive. Arthur barely heard her.

Hunith glanced around at the people gathered in her home, her eyes finally coming to rest on Arthur. "This will be most unpleasant for all parties. I do not wish for all of you to have to witness it. Besides, I would like space to work. If you don't mind, could everyone but the prince leave, please?"

Morgana looked as if she were going to protest, but one gentle arm on her shoulder from Gwen had her snapping her mouth shut and quietly leaving the room with Will in tow and only one despairing glance back at the injured sorcerer on all accounts.

Arthur watched them go in silence.

"Arthur," Hunith spoke quietly. "Please, come here. We need to remove this as quickly as possible. I need someone to hold him down, and I know Merlin would want it to be no one but you."

His legs began to move before her words registered in his mind. It was as if he was watching the entire seen from outside his own body. He felt empty and detached, cold and emotionless, nothing like one would surely feel when the boy that had been consuming all their waking thoughts for the last year was injured, perhaps mortally so.

A boy that also just so happened to be a sorcerer.

Arthur crawled on to the bed. Despite his detachment from the entire situation, the sight of his manservant in his current state made his stomach roll with nausea. He was lying on his back, eyes closed and seated deep within sockets so deeply purple it looked as if he had been punched. Arthur figured that couldn't all just be from the injury. Merlin really needed to get more sleep.

Why the hell did he care? Merlin was a sorcerer, the very thing he was supposed to hate most in the world! He shouldn't care about his well-being. He didn't care.

Maybe Merlin wasn't the only one lying.

Merlin was unnaturally pale, bordering on gray. His lips were nearly white with blood loss. His face was coated in a fine sheet of sweat while his body was wracked with tremors and his eyes rolled beneath their lids. His entire tunic and much of the quilt beneath them was soaked in the blood still running from Merlin's body as if it had any right to do so. The crossbow bolt was a dagger in his stomach, protruding into the air like a demented wooden beacon signaling to the world what it had done to an innocent boy.

Not so innocent, Arthur reminded himself darkly.

Hunith waved a hand beneath his face. "Arthur, can you handle this? Because if not, I will send for Will or one of the girls. I need you to look at me, my boy."

Arthur looked up at the term of endearment. She sounded so much like Gaius in that instant that the resemblance was almost uncanny. She was looking at him with a hard stare. "I don't know what you saw, and I don't know what you think you know, but I can promise you everything isn't as it seems. He will tell you everything, I know he's wanted to for a while, but you have to help me save him. I don't care what you think of him now; I was telling the truth before. He needs you right now, Arthur, whether that be as a lover, a friend, or just a decent man who doesn't want to see another suffer in such a cruel way. Now, I'll ask again: can you handle this?"

Arthur looked on in slight shock. No one ever dared to speak to him in such a manner. Yet, he couldn't help but feel a warm fondness for this woman who had treated him more like a son in three days than his father had nearly his entire life.

"I can," he said firmly. His voice didn't waver.

"Good. Hold him now. This will be extremely unpleasant."

Arthur did as he was told, admittedly fearing the consequences if he didn't. He placed his hands on either of Merlin's shoulders, whispering an apology when he flinched under his touch. The prince could hear Hunith moving around behind his back. She set something on the bedside table and then moved into place.

"Steady now, Arthur," she muttered. Arthur gritted his teeth, dreading the next few moments of his life. He may have been furious with Merlin, he may have felt hurt and betrayed, but that didn't mean he wanted to see Merlin in any sort of pain. He still loved the boy with all of his heart, even if Merlin had stabbed him in it.

"Please, just do it," he begged softly.

The prince was sure the sound of the arrow being removed would forever be ingrained in his mind. It was sickening; a wet squelch of tearing flesh and tissue, a metallic smell permeating the air tenfold than it had before.

If Arthur hadn't been trained for this sort of thing, he probably would have vomited.

As it was, Arthur was too focused on Merlin to worry about his stomach. Hunith had been correct in saying the procedure wouldn't be anywhere near pleasant, especially for the raven. Almost before Hunith had even touched the offending piece of wood, Merlin jerked in Arthur's grasp with a small groan of pain. His eyes rolled wildly beneath their lids and a bead of sweat trailed down the bridge of his nose.

Arthur pinned his shoulders down more fiercely. "Be still," he hissed, his heart aching when Merlin keened beneath him. "You're only making it worse for both of us."

A question was still niggling in the back of his mind. If Merlin was supposedly a sorcerer, and a pretty powerful one at that if the huge windstorm was anything to go by, why hadn't he used magic to push Arthur out of the way of the arrow? Why had he taken the hit himself? And now, why wasn't he just magically healing himself instead of going through all the pain of having the arrow removed?

Something about it all wasn't sitting right with the prince.

Merlin's eyes flew open as the arrow was yanked from his body. He squirmed beneath Arthur, struggling against his hold with a wail of what could only be described as absolute agony. Arthur felt like screaming himself.

He shifted over to try and block Merlin's view of the whole process to the best of his ability. All they needed would be for Merlin to see his own blood staining everything within a six-foot radius and start heaving on top of his already horrific injury.

"Ar…Art'r…Art'r, please," Merlin was begging over and over again. Tears streamed down his ashen cheeks. "I'm s'rry…please st-stop…s'rry! I-I di'nt mean for 'ou to find out like th-this!" The raven was weakly rubbing a fisted hand in a rough circle on his chest the whole time he spoke. The sign for sorry.

Arthur sat, dumbfounded. Merlin thought he was causing him the pain? That he was hurting him as punishment for practicing magic? Arthur had barely even had time to process the fact that Merlin was a sorcerer, let alone even think of his next move.

The knowledge that Merlin thought so lowly of him stung worse than any serket ever could.

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur growled.

Whether from the pain or from the exhaustion or a combination of both, Merlin listened to Arthur for once in his life by promptly passing out. It was probably for the best anyhow. Arthur wouldn't have to listen to him in pain that he couldn't fix, nor did he have to worry about the next thing that would come out of Merlin's mouth.

Hunith stepped back with the blood-smeared arrow. She threw it in the fireplace. "That's enough of that, then."

Arthur leaned back to watch as she began to clean her son up. She cut away what was left of his shirt with a knife, and it promptly joined the arrow in the fireplace. Arthur chastised himself when he found his eyes lingering a little too long on Merlin's bare chest, all pale and lean with hidden muscles from years of hard work. He liked what he saw.

Was that wrong because of the newest revelation about Merlin?

He didn't know anymore.

Hunith was mopping up as much blood as she could with a cloth and smearing some sort of yellowish paste onto the wound from a little wooden bowl. "Yarrow," she explained without looking up. "It helps to stop bleeding and heal damaged skin."

Arthur gulped, finding his throat thick and dry with emotion. He stood from the bed. He felt if he spent another second in that suffocating room he would surely choke to death and die. Hunith didn't even try to stop him when he made a break for the door.

Outside, he found Gwen, Morgana, and Will waiting anxiously outside the door. All three descended on him as soon as he stepped on to the road.

"How is he?" Morgana demanded immediately.

"Is he going to make it?" Will.

"Oh, Arthur, I'm so sorry," Gwen whispered. She had tears shining in her eyes.

Arthur shoved past all of them without a word. He didn't even turn around at Morgana's huff of annoyance. He didn't have the patience for her dramatics or one of her lectures.

"Oi! Don't just walk away!"

Arthur sighed. Damn it. Will had been the last person he was expecting to get a speech from.

He turned back and looked Will, who was giving him a death glare, up and down appraisingly. "What are you looking at, William?"

"Me? I'm looking at an asshole who's running away from the boy whose throat he shoved his tongue down just this morning, all because he's too scared to face his own emotions."

Arthur sneered and curled his hand into a fist until his knuckles turned white. He did not have the patience for Will's shit.

Will raised an eyebrow. "What're you going to do? Take a swing at me?" He leaned forward in a challenge. "Go ahead then, princey. You know you want to. I know you've wanted to smash my face in since the moment you waltzed into this place. Go right-"

He never got to finish his sentence. He was on the ground, holding a hand to his jaw where Arthur's fist had connected with his face while the prince stood above him, chest heaving.

Morgana and Gwen came rushing up to pull Arthur back and help Will up, but the boy waved the women away. "No, no, it's alright. I told him to do it. I wanted him to hit me. He needed it."

Arthur dropped his fist back to his side. His expression must have looked just as shocked as he felt because Will chuckled. "I've known you for all of three days, but I can tell how you express most of your emotions, Arthur Pendragon. Anger. You and me? We're more alike than you think. I think we both just like to take a swing at something when we're too upset, and everything is miraculously ten times better. You feel better?"

Strangely, he did. If not better, his head was at least a little clearer.

"You make an easy target. You're so damn annoying," Arthur muttered. Will grinned and clapped him on the back with a wink. "That's the point, mate."

Will glanced back at the house. At some point, both girls had gone inside. "I'm going to go check on Merlin. You should come with. I know you're angry with him, but please, just wait until he gets better. Hear him out. He's not evil, Arthur, I swear it on my father's grave. He's one of the kindest, gentlest people I've ever met. He was just too scared of ruining his relationship with you to say anything."

Arthur's heart felt heavy. "Really?"

Will smirked like he was sharing a private joke with himself. "You know I could describe you before I ever saw you? Every letter he wrote, I swear he spent over half of it talking about you, how you looked on a certain day, how you smelled." Will wrinkled up his nose at that. Then he held up his hands as if he were reading from a scroll and began to recite in a high-pitched voice. "Oh, Will, you would never believe it. His hair looks to be made from gold itself, and sometimes I find myself daydreaming about how it would feel to touch those shining locks, to run my hands through his hair."

Even as his face burned, Arthur couldn't help but crack a smile. It was the first real smile he'd had since the battle began.

"He really said that about me?"

"Yeah, and about ten other letters worth of material just like that. I was worried about falling in love with you myself if he kept it up, and I'd never even met you before!"

This time, Arthur chuckled lightly. It felt good.

Will's features turned serious suddenly. "Honestly, though, I've never seen him like he is around you. He's liked boys before, sure, but never like you. He's never looked at them like he looks at you, like you hung the moon and the stars or something. I've never seen him so happy." Will's eyes narrowed. "I know you've been taught your entire life to despise sorcery, but if you really love him, which I know you do, you look at him the same way when you think he's not looking, then you should be able to look past that. It's not his fault anyhow. He was born with magic. No, I won't tell you anything else about that, it's not my place, but just know he never had a choice."

Arthur stood silently. He had no idea what he was supposed to say back to that. Not that he felt as if he could possibly speak after that bombshell anyway.

Will glanced around, almost like he was looking to make sure no one was listening. "I'll tell you one more thing. Maybe you should think about it. Merlin didn't tell you because he was scared, yeah? Well, the last time he told someone, he ended up half-dead and deaf at the bottom of a well. He thought he could trust one of those boys, but he stabbed him in the back the first chance he got. I think that's a pretty good excuse for being scared of telling people about his magic, even someone he trusts."

Will started off towards the house but turned back when he realized Arthur was still rooted to his spot. "Come on, princey, your lover boy needs you."

Arthur glared at a grinning Will.

Inside, Gwen was sitting at Merlin's bedside while dabbing his forehead softly with a cloth. Hunith was scrubbing the soiled bed quilt in the washtub. At some point, someone had replaced it with a fresh one that was now pulled over Merlin. Morgana was standing watch over something boiling in a pot over the fire.

Morgana glanced up. "Ah, Arthur dear, welcome back. Have a nice tantrum?"

Arthur ignored the bait, instead opting to stride right over to Merlin and sit on the edge of the bed. Gwen looked surprised. She never had been good at hiding her emotions.

"Is everything…is everything alright, sire?" She asked quietly.

"It will be."

Gwen smiled. She held the cloth out to him. Arthur stared at it dumbly for much longer than he meant to until Gwen finally giggled. "I want you to take the cloth, Arthur. I think you should take over. I know we were just out, but I can't spend too much time…" she trailed off, but her gaze in Merlin's direction left nothing unsaid. "I think I need to go for a walk."

Arthur took the cloth as Gwen got up and said something quietly to Morgana. Soon, the two girls left. Will appeared at his side. "He's got the audacity to be asleep. I might as well go get some work done if he's going to be so rude. Let me know if anything changes." He left.

Hunith stood from where she had been kneeling next to the washtub and brushed her skirt off, coming towards him. She looked frazzled and tired, stray locks of gray-streaked brown hair peeking out from beneath her headwrap, but Arthur couldn't blame her. Her only son was quite possibly dying from an arrow wound.

No, he wasn't dying. That wasn't an option.

Arthur was happy to find he still cared.

"All we can do now is wait. I agree with Will, as long as you're here, I might as well get some chores done. Life goes on." She gazed lovingly at her son despite the worry clearly marring her soft eyes. She then reached up and lightly touched Arthur's cheek. The prince leaned into the touch. She smiled and left, leaving Merlin and Arthur all alone in the home.

Arthur sighed with exhaustion and ran hand down his face. "What the hell am I going to do with you, Merlin?" He wondered aloud.

"Hopefully, a lot more than just kissing once we get back to Camelot," Merlin said hoarsely. Arthur's head jerked to the raven.

"Merlin!" He cried in surprise. He hadn't realized the boy had been watching him. That's when Merlin's words actually registered in his mind. He blushed what was surely scarlet. "Merlin!" Was all he managed once again.

Merlin grinned, but it was weak and sad, laced with pain. It was barely an imitation of his usual smile, nothing but a ghost. "That is, if you'll still have me after…" He trailed off looking absolutely crestfallen. Arthur couldn't stand to see the look on his face.

He reached out, not even attempting to stop himself when he ran his hand down Merlin's cheekbone in a gentle caress. "Of course, I still want you."

"B-but, I'm a sorcerer…I'm a monster," Merlin whispered through white lips. Arthur shook his head fervently.

"No, no, don't say that, Merlin, never say that. You are not a monster, damn it! All the people who've shunned you and treated you differently because of this-this gift-are the monsters."

Merlin's eyes shone with unshed tears. "Will told you then? About my magic?"

"He told me you were born with it. And he told me some other things. He helped me to realize that your magic is a part of you, just as much as your beautiful eyes or those idiotic neckerchiefs I find so endearing. I think I've always sort of known something was different about you anyhow. I think I've realized that maybe my father is wrong. Maybe magic is nothing more than a tool, a weapon that can be used only as the wielder intends it to be, no different than a sword."

A tear slipped down Merlin's cheek. Arthur wiped it away gently with the pad of his thumb. "Will you stay with me?" He asked tentatively.

"Of course." Arthur toed off his boots and crawled farther on to the bed and slid under the covers beside the raven. Taking the boy into his arms, Merlin whimpered softly as the movement jostled his battered body.

"Shh," Arthur whispered, despite his being behind Merlin and the raven not being able to hear him anyhow. With one arm, he gently rubbed soothing circles into Merlin's sternum. With the other, he traced the word 'sorry' over and over again into the palm of his manservant's hand. Finally, he relaxed under the prince's touch.

"Thank you," Merlin whispered so faintly, Arthur almost didn't think he'd said anything at all. He sagged in Arthur's arms.

"Merlin? Merlin?!" He cried out in a panic. He shook the boy slightly, only getting a muffled groan that tapered off into a pitiful cry as answer. He frantically tried to get up, to run and get help, to see what was wrong, but Merlin's grip on his hand, still surprisingly strong, prevented him from going far.

"N-no, please, d-don't leave me," he murmured through tears.

"I have to go get help! I have to do something. Something's wrong with you, Merlin!"

Merlin shook his head weakly. "P-please. I need to tell you something. I need to…before it's too late."

"You can tell me when you get better. Just let me go get you some help!"

Again, Merlin shook his head, this time with more determination. "N-no, Arthur, there's no time. I think I'm…"

"You are not dying, Merlin! I won't let you!"

"My magic," Merlin pushed on, despite Arthur's protests. "I u-use it for you. O-only for you. I n-never tried to h-hurt anybody with it unless they th-threatened you. I'm sorry, I didn't t-tell you sooner."

By this point, Arthur was clutching Merlin to him, stroking back his raven locks off a clammy forehead, ashen with the breath of death, and allowing the tears to flow freely. He didn't care what his father had told him; there was one man worth his tears.

He could feel fresh blood spreading beneath his hand as he turned Merlin slightly to gaze into his azure eyes, flecked with gold. How Arthur hadn't noticed them before, he wasn't sure. Maybe he had spent so much time trying to avoid Merlin's gaze for fear of him discovering his feelings that he had never truly had any time to study them.

"Thank you," he said plainly, signing it as he spoke. A tear dripped on to Merlin's snowy cheek. He didn't bother to brush it away. Only watched as it carved a river of sorrow down the pale skin.

"Welcome," Merlin mouthed. He tensed up suddenly with a cry of pain as a particularly awful spasm racked his body.

"What can I do? Please, how can I make it better?"

"J-just hold me," came the barely-there response. It was hardly a whisper in the air.

Arthur swallowed hard. Tears were freely running down his cheeks. Wordlessly, he gathered the boy back into his arms and laid beside him. He ran a hand through the midnight locks and traced comforting words into one of his lithe hands. He kissed the back of Merlin's neck, the skin icy cold. He didn't care for the taste of salt on his lips.

One of Merlin's hands moved agonizingly slowly to hold the one Arthur had been using to trace words. He ran a thumb over the back of his hand. "I love you, Arthur Pendragon."

His lungs fell as he breathed out. They didn't rise again.

Arthur sobbed.

He squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face against Merlin's skin. His world was crashing down around him. With a shaking hand, he reached up to search for a pulse, hanging on to the last thread of hope he had. Merlin was just sleeping. That was it. He couldn't be dead.

He found nothing but cool skin, already going stiff from blood loss. He held Merlin-Merlin's body-tighter to him.

"No," he whimpered. "No, Merlin, please…"

He held him. It was the least he could do. He had failed him so many times since he had met him without even knowing; he wasn't about to do it for a final time.

"I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry," he mumbled. He kept his eyes dutifully screwed shut, naively thinking that he may wake up and find it all to be a cruel nightmare.

But then something in the air changed.

It began to hum, crackling not unlike a fire on a cold evening. Except this crackling wasn't just warm; it felt positively alive. It was what Arthur always thought lightning would feel like up close.

Merlin had once told him he adored the woods so much because of the life teaming within its leafy walls. He said he could feel it everywhere, buzzing through the air and the earth, through every plant, animal, and insect alike. Arthur had laughed at him, thinking it was just another one of Merlin's ridiculous tangents.

Now, he thought he may understand what he was on about.

Cautiously, he brought his head up and opened his eyes, gasping softly at what he saw. The entire bed was engulfed in a shimmering, golden light. Arthur raised his hands and from his fingertips leapt a silvery wisp of air the color of moonlight on a dark lake. It mingled with the gold being supplied by Merlin's glowing body to create a beautiful collage of shining light.

A small line broke away from the encasement to weave through the air towards Merlin. It hit the covers right where his fatal wound was located and began to glow brighter and brighter until Arthur had no choice but to close his eyes.

When the light died down, he opened them once again, looking around in shock. Merlin shifted beneath him with a small whine of discomfort.

Merlin shifted beneath him.

Arthur's head jerked down to see Merlin blinking open dazed, azure eyes. With fumbling hands, the prince grabbed the edge of the quilt and yanked it down Merlin's bare chest despite the boy's noise of displeasure at the cool air meeting his exposed skin.

There was no blood. There was no bruise or inflamed skin. The only evidence left of the mortal blow was a faint white line on his stomach, looking like it was a years-old scar rather than mere hours.

"Mother, Maiden, and Crone," he breathed in disbelief. "How the hell…?"

"I think my magic likes you."

Arthur tore his gaze away from the nearly unblemished skin to look at Merlin. He was still pale with dark circles beneath his eyes. His hair was still sticking up at all angles and he still looked as if Cook had given him a good beating with her wooden spoon.

Arthur had never seen something so beautiful.

He was on Merlin before either of them could even breathe. His lips found the sorcerer's and locked on to them in a desperate dance. Even when he broke away for air, he continued to kiss every inch of skin he could find. His cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his forehead. None of it was enough.

Merlin was laughing under his ministrations. Finally, the boy planted his hands on Arthur's shoulders to hold him back. "Hello to you too."

Arthur huffed. "Don't you dare ever do that to me again, Merlin!"

Merlin's eyes trailed over his lips, watching their movements as the prince spoke. "I'm sorry."

"Yes, well, apology accepted." He leaned back with a small smile. Holding up a hand, he held out his thumb, pointer, and pinkie finger.

"By the way, I love you too."