Chapter Text
1
Morgana needed to tell Arthur, fast. Uther—for she’d never dare call him her father or anything even remotely familiar—was about to execute a child for performing magic. A child! She could barely contain her anger as she hastily walked towards Arthur’s chambers.
Realistically, Morgana knew they’d never change Uther’s mind, no matter how much she wanted to. But if both of them protested against him, maybe he’d at least try to listen. For he was used to Morgana’s reasonable discourse, but Arthur was usually his obedient little child.
Normally, she wouldn’t have bothered. But for some reason unbeknownst to her, Morgana had seen a change in Arthur recently. He had, in fact, begun to argue against Uther more recently. Morgana found herself enjoying this new Arthur. Either way, his arguing hadn’t been enough to bore Uther just yet, so she wishes to take advantage of it while she can.
She mourned for that poor child. Morgana sighed with a slight frown while she walked (if her quick steps qualified as walking). Her sorrow quickly turned back into anger. Why, on all that is holy, is the castle so unbelievably gigantic? Morgana could barely navigate through it, and she’d spent most of her life in the castle.
But enough about stairs—she must get to Arthur. Morgana rounded the stairs and found herself face-to-face to his chambers. Before she knocked, she heard shouting coming for within. She paused, listening as well as she could.
”—prat! And don’t even—“
”—h yeah? Well, at least I don—“
”—ou’re one to talk! When—and you—w—“
”—et me go! You—“
Okay, she’d heard enough. What on Earth was going on in there? She pushed the door open, storming in. “What are you—“
Oh.
Oh.
Arthur was with the servant boy, Merlin. She hadn’t interacted with him much apart from the potions he sent from Gaius, but she’d heard good things from Gwen.
But they were in an… interesting position.
They both paused to look at her, frozen in place. Arthur was against the bed-frame, and Merlin was holding him against his shirt collar. What struck her as odd was that Arthur didn’t exactly struggle against the hold—he could have had dodged the blow, easily.
“You— um, okay, I…” Morgana cleared her throat awkwardly. “Sorry for interrupting, uh…”
Merlin instantly let go of Arthur. Their faces had both flushed pink, embarrassed. “No, no! It’s not what it looks like, I promise.”
“He— we— no, it— I—“ Arthur unfortunately could not form a coherent sentence, so he just settled for a firm no.
Morgana looked around everywhere except at them, feeling as if she’d just intruded into something. “Uhm, okay. Well, Arthur, I’ve got to tell you something important…”
2
Gwen hummed to herself as she folded all of the now-clean laundry into a woven basket. She enjoyed laundry day. It was oddly calming to her, the repetitive motion of folding alongside the pleasing smell of freshly cleaned clothing.
She sighed contently as she stood up. Gwen was done, and now all she had to do was bring it to her lady’s chambers. She carried it along the corridors, smiling. Truthfully, there was another reason to her happiness. The new knight, Lancelot, had picked her some lovely flowers just the other day. Gwen thought he was a fine addition to Camelot.
Her joy did not go unnoticed, as one of the older maids, Isabeau, approached her. “Well, look a’ you!” Isabeu grinned, winking at her. “You’ve met a good one, ‘aven’t you?”
Gwen blushed, trying to hide her smile.
“Oh, you ‘ave! Well, good f’ir you!” She walked away, leaving behind a very happy Gwen.
Today was simply wonderful, and she could not be convinced otherwise. As she walked, she had to suppress the urge to start skipping around like a child who’d just been promised a cake.
Gwen knocked on Morgana’s door, cheery as ever. “Mi’lady, may I enter?”
She heard a faint call from the other side of the door. “—es, you may.”
Gwen walked in, organizing all of the clothes, as she usually did. Purple goes here, dresses over there, skirts in there…
“Why, Gwen, what’s got you in such a cheery mood?” Morgana looked at her quizzically, but she wore a playful smile. She waited for Gwen’s answer.
Gwen just gave a light, breathy laugh. “Oh, it’s nothing!”
“Nonsense, Gwen! Is it a boy?”
“Matter of fact…” Gwen avoided Morgana’s gaze, and the corners of her lips tugged upwards.
Morgana shot her a genuine smile. “Well, good for you, Gwen! I’ve got some things to do, but I’d love to hear about this mystery man, soon.”
After their exchange, Gwen walked out to place the basket back where it went. She strolled along the corridor to make her way back to the laundry room. As she continued forward, she heard voices. Curious, she walked a little bit faster. When she heard the voices right next to her, she turned her head to the left, where there was another hallway.
With Arthur…
…holding Merlin’s shoulders, pulling him close.
Gwen dropped her basket, startled. The noise made the two men turn their heads towards her, jaws open like two gaping fish. They separated immediately.
“No Gwen, it’s—“ “We swear it’s not like that—“ They spoke over each other’s voices, panicked.
She picked her basket back up. “Well, I’ll just… go back to… where I was headed…”
Gwen heard shouted protests, but she just sighed and walked away.
3
Uther sat down in his bed, head in hands. Just a month ago, both of his children decided to protest against his execution of a magical boy. It frustrated him, how they couldn’t see the evils of magic. If anything, that boy would’ve only grown up to become a mass murderer. Uther felt as if he were only preventing what would’ve been inevitable.
What he couldn’t understand was Arthur’s recent behavior. He used to be so obedient, and now he looked like some sort of sorcerer-lover! …Well, he’s getting ahead of himself. Maybe it’s just a rebellion phase—he’s sure to grow out of it fast, next time there’s a sorcerer ready to attack the kingdom, like it’s happened so many times before.
Uther stood up with a groan, stretching out his sore muscles, worn with age. He is not the warrior he once was, but he knows Arthur will fill in those shoes. Or, at the pace he’s going, he might as well overfill them. This is why Uther thinks it’s so crucial that Arthur mustn’t stray from his purpose for far too long—he’s got a kingdom that he must rule, someday.
He rubbed his eyes with worry. Any-who, he mustn’t think on it too much. Uther had to get down to dinner, where he could hopefully discuss the issue with Arthur. Morgana may protest, but it could possibly serve a lesson to her, too.
When he arrived to the table, Uther observed that both Arthur and Morgana were already sitting down, food untouched, as they waited for him.
“My apologies for the tardiness. I hope you didn’t have to wait long?”
Arthur offered him a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “No, father. It’s alright.”
The dinner was rather awkward, as it often was, with the loud sound of utensils bouncing off the walls. Uther decided to begin slowly, with more regular questions. “So, how has your day been, both of you?”
His servant went to fill Uther’s cup. There was a pause, and then Arthur answered. “It’s been alright. Made some progress with the knights—they’re not half bad.”
“That’s good.”
The silence was loud. Arthur set down his empty cup, and Uther watched as his son’s manservant—he’s forgotten his name by now, but he’s a loyal fellow—filled it up. The servant boy and Arthur locked eyes. But it wasn’t in the quick, discreet way; rather, for a while. Uther looked at them curiously as they broke the eye contact. He reasoned that it was probably nothing.
“And you, Morgana? How have you been?”
Morgana looked up from her plate. Everything was silent, and then she spoke. “It’s been a pretty regular day. Nothing too much out of the ordinary.” Morgana looked back down and continued eating.
Uther glanced at Arthur, only to notice him sneaking yet another glance at his manservant, who was returning the stare. It was as if they were having a conversation with their eyes. Arthur seemed to laugh and disguised it as a cough—or a sneeze, it wasn’t really clear.
“What’s so funny, Arthur?” Uther raised his brow, looking straight at his son.
Arthur’s expression quickly sobered up, and he cleared his throat. “Apologies, father. It’s nothing.”
As the night progressed, he saw more of these glances. Was this a first, or had he just never noticed? Either way, he’d be having a long talk with Arthur. Of course, he mustn’t forget the other topic he’d bring up, but for now, Uther wanted to focus on this one.
“Arthur, could you come with me for a second? It’ll be brief, I assure you.” Uther beckoned Arthur towards his direction as he stood up, making his way to the corner of the room.
Arthur obliged, a confused expression etched on his face (and a bit of fear, though his father would never notice). “What is it, father? What’s wrong?”
“You are aware, that… you cannot be with a servant?” Uther stared him down. “And… much less a man, for that matter.”
The prince’s mouth was open, gaping wide. Arthur sputtered out words, embarrassed. “You— you think that— that I— me and—!?”
He was now equally confused. “So you, er… you aren’t?”
Arthur answered quickly. “No— god’s sake, no!”
Uther breathed out a sigh of relief. “What of those glances, then?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. I really think you are just reading too much into it, father. Maybe you should get some rest?” Arthur pat Uther’s back, but not like he did with his knights.
He massaged his temples. “Yes, I suppose so. I do not know why I am thinking so irrationally. Perhaps I am indeed tired.”
4
Gaius really needed to find Merlin. Although, not as urgent as per usual, since this time it has nothing to do with magical affairs. What he really needed was for Merlin to find him some herbs. It would’ve been no problem for him to go buy them himself, but he found no shops in the market that sold the one he was looking for.
It was such a rare herb, that he’d been using the same one for the past five years. Rarely any potions called for it, so he’d been well-off like that. But it was now the time for restocking, and Gaius could not simply just enter the forest again. He was older now, after all. He was sure that Merlin was capable of getting it for him, so he’d have to ask.
When he’d searched Arthur’s chambers, he—unsurprisingly—did not find them there. Gaius would like to assume that Merlin was currently attending his prince. He slowly walked his way towards the training fields, hoping to find him there. To his dismay, he was in fact not there.
He saw Leon walking around and approached him. “Ah, Sir Leon! How have you been?”
“I am well, Gaius. How has the day fared you?” Leon was not fantastically social, but he replied as well as he could whilst staying polite.
“It has been well. Say, have you seen Merlin around here?”
Leon seemed to think on it. “I believe I saw him and Arthur making their way towards the physicia— ah, your chambers.”
Of course they were right there. Of course. Gaius saw Leon’s awkwardness and anticipation from a mile away, so he spoke. “Yes, thank you, Sir Leon. That will be all.”
He made his way all the way back to his chambers. When he made it inside, he made sure to sit down for a while. Gaius sat down with a sigh. His back was truly not meant for such strenuous behavior, which is why he currently needs Merlin.
Gaius perked up as he heard the sound of muffled shouting come within Merlin’s bedroom. Of course, he wasn’t exactly surprised. Those boys spent all of their time yapping about—although, it’s painfully obvious how much they care for each other. It’s so clear, a blind man could see it.
He stood back up, feeling parts of his spine pop. Gaius did not knock on the door, rather, he grabbed onto the cold handle and opened it wide.
“Ah…” Gaius really wished he would’ve knocked, now. “I can… I could come back later. This…” He massaged his temples.
Merlin was pinned to the wall, Arthur’s face inches from his, securing his manservant’s shoulders against the wall with his hands. They both turned to look at him, frozen in place. As if everything came back, Arthur quickly let go of Merlin.
“No, Gaius, it, uh— we were just—“ The prince’s eyes were wide, and he was nearly as red as the shirt he was wearing.
“Just having a disagreement, is all.” Merlin seemed calmer, but he was equally distressed and embarrassed. Gaius thought he wasn’t wearing his neckerchief from the color of his skin as of that moment.
Gaius raised his brow. “A… disagreement. Of course...” He looked at them skeptically. “Well, if you’re done ‘disagreeing’, then you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed Merlin for a second.”
“We weren’t…” Arthur buried his face in his hands. “You can, yes.”
5
All of the knights were currently on a hunting trip. It wasn’t so often that they went on these trips (by their standards, anyway), which is why Lancelot was enjoying every second of it. They were all telling stories around a fire, while their supper was cooking. Even Merlin, who couldn’t hate hunting more, seemed like he was enjoying himself.
“—and then, right when he thought I was dead… boom! I jumped upwards, and punched him straight in the jaw! Poor bloke didn’t know what was coming for him! While he was still confused, I—“ Gwaine, as per usual, gave his stories an exciting flare.
Lancelot chuckled as Gwaine finished his story. “You’ve gotten into so many fights, it’s a wonder you’re still here with us.”
He grinned. “I’m sure glad I am! Who else would keep you lot entertained? A toad could tell better stories than you!” Gwaine laughed, and his words were lighthearted. He then turned to look towards Merlin. “And you, Merlin? Have you got any exciting fight stories?”
Arthur scoffed, but not unkindly. “His biggest fight has probably been trying to catch a rat, or something of the sort.”
Merlin laughed a bit at that. “You absolute prat! But, you’re not exactly wrong.” He began to think. “Before I met you? Yeah, I’d say my fights included a lot of running.”
All of the knights found this funny, and some of them clapped him on the back. They kept on with this attitude, and everyone had a stupid grin on their faces. Eventually, supper was ready. It was just meat from a couple of rabbits they found, but Merlin made it taste fantastic.
“Woo! Merlin, mate, you should be a cook.” Gwaine’s loud voice rang out, and Merlin looked away shyly.
“It’s getting dark. I think we should all get to sleep.” Arthur stood up and stretched.
Percival stood up, too. “I can take watch.”
Lancelot walked up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “No, Percival, get some rest. You took watch last time, I can do it.”
Elyan nodded. “Yes. You’ve got to sleep.”
It’d been a couple of hours, and everyone was settled in their tents. Gwaine took up residence with Leon, Percival with Elyan, and Arthur with Merlin. Since nothing seemed to be happening, Lancelot decided to check in with each of them.
As he looked through the tents, Lancelot decided everything was alright. All he was missing was to check in with Arthur and Merlin. He opened the tent, and everything was dark. He widened the opening. As light flooded into the space, he saw…
Merlin and Arthur, tangled up together.
Oh. Oh man. Merlin’s head was rested onto Arthur’s chest, and Arthur’s arm was loosely wrapped over him. Their legs were in an interesting position, just twisted together and entwined. It was too messy to have been done on purpose, but Lancelot still found their position amusing.
Gods, he wished he could have this done in a painting.
The next morning, Lancelot heard vague shouts coming from a certain tent. Some of the knights peeked out of their tents to see the source of the ruckus. “What’s going on in there?”
Lancelot grinned. “Arthur and Merlin probably woke up to find themselves cuddled up together. I saw it, last night.”
Gwaine gaped, and then he began to laugh. “Oh, they are NEVER going to live this down.”