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Chapter Text

Merlin Pendragon couldn’t have said what infuriated him more by the time he got to the end of the note messily written in the front cover of this suddenly awful gift that had been given to him by Arthur. Should he be furious over the fact that Arthur was pretending to be sweet in the beginning, acting like there was a chance he actually cared about what Merlin needed, impressed over the mere fact that he had actually remembered Merlin wailing about needing to be given a proper education after all the things Merlin only vaguely remembered he had yelled about? Or should he carry over his fury straight down to the note Arthur had graciously left at the bottom of the page, thinking he was being so helpful when in reality, he was nothing other than the worst human who could have ever graced the earth?

“That stupid and idiotic son of a bitch!” Merlin exclaimed after he had shown his uncle the note, watching Gaius’ face turn as red as his own after he got the same message Merlin had gotten from reading between the lines. The consort didn’t hesitate, taking the page by the top and ripping it from the book in his anger, the harsh sound of tearing paper doing nothing to relieve his fury towards his husband. He had no trouble crumbling that piece of parchment into the smallest and most disfigured ball he could make it… Merlin didn’t have any problems with scribbling notes or margins in the books he read. How else was he going to learn if he forgot his notes from one sentence to the next? But he would never rip a page from a book, even the blank one that came right behind the cover that nobody knew why was there…That was precious parchment that could be used to write more notes on that might not fit into the margins as he cluttered too many of his thoughts onto the page. But Arthur had already gone and ruined this piece, staining it in ink and blood, because mark his words, the prince should be the one to bleed for his latest insult. “I cannot believe that he is actually calling me stupid this time! When he’s the bloody one that has to be the most moronic person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing! We have been together for four months! Four bloody months! And he still doesn’t even realize I can read perfectly well! He’s an absolute clout, that’s what he is! I just need to get out of this bloody kingdom because I swear, the next time I do see him will be far too soon!”

Merlin’s shrieking had reached an all-time high, loud enough for Gaius to wince even though he fully, wholeheartedly agreed. Dropping the book down, abandoned to be left on the table where Merlin hoped it would rot instantaneously, the young consort stormed across the room to the little fire Gaius had been fiddling with when he had first come down here. And holding the edges of the parchment to keep his fingers unscarred, Merlin boldly stuck the parchment between the fire and the little bottle of ointment that was being held above it. Merlin’s eyes had started glinting with deadly irritation, twisting the parchment around so he was able to watch the pale yellow color of it starting to blacken and twist and meld against the other folds and creases he had made of it. Merlin’s eyes grew dark and sure, the flickering of the fire reminding him of the recent burning he had suffered in his nightmares. If he closed his eyes and concentrated harder, then he might even feel the phantom sensation of his own skin starting to crack and break apart just as the parchment in his hand was.

It was funny, Merlin thought dimly as he continued watching the parchment a little too closely to be considered normal and healthy, how alike human skin is to a piece of parchment. Both capable of turning black, capable of cracking as the flame ate away at everything that made them what they were…able to turn back into the ash they had been before they were born. It was strange, to the consort, watching the parchment turning to dust as the flames flickered closer to his fingers as it shrunk in size, contemplating how similar he was to a thing that had no life. No soul. Something meant to be used in whatever way its own owner would deem fit, before ultimately being tossed away when it no longer served its intended purpose. Exactly how Merlin had been treated during the last four months, until it was pretty much the only life he knew, barely able to remember the times that had come before Arthur.

And to think, in another life so far removed from the one Merlin was living in at the moment, he might have actually been proud of Arthur. After all, it wasn’t all that long ago that Arthur had been sending missives to the doorstep of every man, woman, and child that lived in the lower town, always forgetting one single fact that separated commoner from nobility… COMMONERS. RARELY. KNEW. HOW. TO. READ. And it was Merlin himself who had reminded Arthur of this fact way back when Gwen had first been arrested for witchcraft and the Royals started placing the lower town in quarantine when the plague showed no sign of being slowed down. If Merlin really was in this different life, he might’ve thought it to be sweet that Arthur was remembering that fact now. Even if Arthur had gone and decided to lump his consort with all the other people who had not been born lucky enough to have a mother who had been taught how to read many years before he was born, by the man that had been his father. Somehow, the consort didn’t believe him and Arthur would have the same love that his own parents—as his mother had reassured him many times in his youth when there were other children mocking him for being a bastard son—had. But no matter…he didn’t want to be with somebody who thought him stupid.

“I might not be able to stop these gifts from arriving to you every week, but I can at least assure you that you won’t be seeing the prince anywhere here. He knows better than to try coming into my home after all he’s done. Sad that you cannot simply stay here, where he cannot follow.” Gaius said in a primly proper tone, sniffing his nose in disdain like a true-born noble. Merlin, who looked up from his parchment as it continued to shrink in the flames until he had to hold it by two fingers to prevent getting burned himself, would have laughed at the sight it made. But alas, Gaius was right. It was as if there was a dome of some kind surrounding this place, preventing Arthur from crossing the borders of the circle. Because Merlin would have expected Arthur to kick down the doors by now in an effort to drag Merlin off somewhere he was needed to be. But he could not stay here forever, no matter how much he wanted. Healing meant he needed to be pushed out of his comfort zone a bit, as his uncle had reminded him each time he ventured into trying something new to help him. Taking steps out was hardly strenuous, but it was probably going to be the biggest marker of how his progress was really going. “Though, if you really do desire to take some time from the castle for a bit, I do believe I have the perfect task that will keep you occupied. And it takes place somewhere I know for a fact, Arthur won’t be today.”

Merlin sucked in a startled breath, hardly noticing the flick of the flames as it traveled closer and closer to his fingers…A trickle of anxiety wormed its way into his stomach. Yes, he absolutely loved the idea of having some kind of purpose or goal to keep him busy. And one that had no involvement from Arthur had he stumbled upon Merlin at some point was a bonus. But Merlin had also planned to only be out long enough to take a lap around town. He had been wanting to do this whole thing gradually…one lap this day, an hour another day…two when he got comfortable enough. Gradual things such as that. He hadn’t expected to be sent on a task that he had no knowledge of…what if it was something he would take all day doing? Would he be okay with being outside for that long, or would he freak out before he could finish? What if the impossible happened to him and Arthur showed up and started being his usual ignorant self…would he fall straight back into the person he was trying so hard not to be? It had been so incredibly easy to yell at Arthur that day in this very room, when the heat of anger had burned in his veins after Arthur had kissed him. And it had been so easy to ignore him later because he had been busy with Bayard and seeking to have his forgiveness. And it was so easy to be pissed at him now, without him being there to throw him to the ground both mentally and physically. But would that anger hold the next time they meet?

Or would Merlin revert back into the meek little doll he’s been for all of those weeks…?

That was probably Merlin’s biggest fear at the moment. Knowing he had spent this last month making plans, working on himself, learning how to be a better version of himself, only for it…all to be for naught. He could hardly claim to be a strong and powerful adversary for the prince if one look turned him back to the sniveling little creature he’d been. He had sworn he would NEVER be that person again. But would those turn out to be nothing more than pretty words from a vexed boy? Could he continue holding strong and standing straight and being…exactly who he wanted to be despite what would be said about him in the coming days? Merlin didn’t want his uncle to see the worries that kept on plaguing him despite the non-stop week of stitching himself back together, so he smiled in an effort to hide the rampant anxiousness reappearing inside his gut.

“What’s this task then, Uncle Gaius? Because I honestly think I wouldn’t care if it was even shoveling horse manure out of the barns! As long as I get to leave from here for even longer than I had planned to.” Merlin said brightly, and he plastered a wide grin on his face, starting to feel the tinging of heat along the tops of his fingertips as the paper withered its way down to nothing. But it was quite possible that Merlin had put a little too much enthusiasm into what he’d been saying—honestly? Shoveling horse manure! He might as well have slapped a sign on his forehead to proclaim how bloody stupid he was for allowing such a thing to escape him when he saw Gaius giving him a look. Shit! Gaius could see right through him, as always. He really was such a terrible liar, he thought as his eyes darted back and forth across the room; it was a miracle he lived at all if he was this horrible at it. “I don’t mean that in a bad way or anything. Like, I don’t mean I want to get away from you! You have probably been the biggest constant in my life since I’ve arrived here, and I’m grateful; I really am. I simply mean that I could use a new change in scenery, and a task will definitely keep my…hands tied up for a while. And besides, if I go out and do this, then I’ll get a little time away from Morgana. She’s been so clingy lately, so I suppose one day away from that won’t be…entirely bad, right?”

Morgana’s apparent clinginess hadn’t exactly been a bad thing to Merlin, not in the beginning especially. When he had been looking for these connections and clinging onto her just as much. But in the last week or so especially, Morgana had gone from just spending an hour or two with Merlin during lunch so they could hang out. She had been with Merlin every waking hour, constantly being on his heels as he did something; he had even had to stop her once whenever he tried going to his room… He claimed he needed the chamber pot, but he had really needed a minute away from being felt as if he had her breathing straight down his neck. It wasn’t nearly as bad as Arthur, whose eyes sometimes would feel as if they were trying to pierce Merlin’s soul and dissect him straight from the inside out. But it was clear she was expecting him to do ‘something’…It was entirely possible she wanted to catch him in the act of…something… It was honestly a miracle she hadn’t decided to show up yet this morning… He hissed all of a sudden, jerking his fingers away from the flames as the last bits of the parchment escaped him.

“Perhaps she’s just feeling more protective of you lately. Wanting to be sure nothing else is going to happen to you the second we take our eyes off. That is something that usually happens when you almost lose somebody that you do care about.” Gaius said bluntly, giving Merlin a pointed look as he examined his slightly red fingers. A stain of red burned across Merlin’s face as he shoved his red fingers into his mouth, just the tips, to swirl his tongue around them, to get them cooled from the heat that plagued them. It was stupid of Merlin to try the complaining game…Maybe he really was just way more anxious than he’d been thinking he was about going outside. Having Morgana on his tail was really the least thing that could’ve happened; he knew he’d put her, Gaius, and Gwen through hell when he had been dying. Being protective was far better than the stalking Arthur was prone to doing…right? “But no matter, here is a list of the herbs that I want you to grab for me. There’s this spot right outside the gates of the kingdom that will have everything you need right there. Trust me, you’ll know what I’m talking about when you find it. It’s barely five meters away.”
  
Merlin swirled his tongue once more around his fingers, completely oblivious to the erotic sight he would’ve made if Arthur had been the one to witness the scene, and took the list Gaius was handing him. The tips of his fingers seemed to be only the slightest bit pink now, but pink was hardly the cause for concern when it could’ve been melting off his bones like in his dream…The consort then shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts. Thinking about his dream while he unfolded the list of ingredients he was meant to get might cause another breakdown, and then he would be trapped in here for another month trying to get himself together. He wasn’t willing to risk his recovery like that. Besides, thought Merlin as he was reading over the three herbs his uncle was looking for, he couldn’t be stuck in this house being slowly, steadily surrounded by the awful gifts Arthur deemed fit to send him. The note Arthur had left him was honestly no better than the red silken…thing! He had already sent it the last time…

Lavender was the first item marked on the list that Merlin read as he reached down to pick up the bowl of soup he needed to eat before he left. Gaius would not allow him to leave without getting something in his belly first…but he was already categorizing the ingredients in his head. Lavender itself was this long plant that stood straight up, with purple—the exact shade of the color it’d been named after—growing out of the stalk. He remembered the sketching his uncle had shown him during one of their many sessions late at night, where his uncle was willing to show him his work and foster his mind and introduce him to new knowledge he hadn’t had access to back home. His uncle had really stepped up with his lessons after Merlin had started walking normally again once most of the poison had left his system. No more hunched over, grabbing onto chairs to prevent himself from falling over for this guy! 

Merlin shook his head and focused on the second item of the list as he raised his bowl up to his lips, allowing the warm broth to slide down his throat… This was a bit of a rebellious thing for him to do. Knowing Arthur would be throwing a fit if he saw the ‘uncouth way’ he was drinking his soup, instead of doing the more proper way of using a real soup spoon. But anyway, the next item was a thing of rosemary…that one would be a bit tricky. Merlin would have to look far more closely to make sure he was actually grabbing rosemary and not just the blades of grass. Rosemary and grass looked insanely similar to one another, so he wouldn’t want to disappoint his uncle or his teachings by not knowing what the difference was. His uncle wasn’t teaching him this stuff just for him to go screwing up the very first time he was trusted enough to fetch the proper item on his own…

And the final item on the list was peppermint…another thing Merlin would have to be cautious about before bringing it to his uncle’s attention. An herb like that couldn’t be mistaken as plain grass like rosemary, but it was extremely leafy to the naked eye. And could often be mistaken as simple leaves growing out of a tree branch, if one didn’t recognize the exact shape of the points that could be used to differentiate between the two. And Merlin tilted his head back to allow more of the soup to slide down his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing, a sight that would’ve been dangerously distracting to a certain prince in a sensual way as he swallowed each mouthful…before the final piece of what Gaius said clicked in his mind. And Merlin went to sputtering and choking, jerking the broth out of his mouth, tilting it just dangerously enough for a good portion of it to spill its way down the front of his only clean tunic. Merlin hardly noticed at first, with his wild eyes meeting his uncle’s, soup and pieces of strawberry smeared over the front of his chin. Dripping continues to make a mess down the front of his shirt.

“W-what?!” He choked out, his tongue feeling as if it had grown twice in size…He would have thought he was having an allergic reaction to the strawberries or something, despite never having one before, but his uncle seemed to act so wholly unconcerned. Gaius simply arched one eyebrow high above his head in that infuriating, calm way he usually did, as if he hadn’t rocked everything that Merlin thought he had known about his position in Camelot straight off the wayside. Maybe he should clarify, yes…Merlin should clarify…It still took him a moment to get his tongue working right enough for him to say the words how they were meant to be said. “I…I can’t go outside the walls! I mean—“ Merlin dropped his mostly emptied bowl out on the table, ignoring the food decorating both skin and cloth, and waved an arm madly towards the front door. “I haven’t been out of the walls since I arrived in Camelot all those months ago! I mean, I was under the impression that I was stuck inside. Surely Uther would have me dragged to the cells or something if he heard I went out and thought I was trying to make a run for it or something. I can’t be…Can I really go out the walls?” 

Merlin’s voice had started waspish, his chest tightening in a panic at what the consequences would be if Uther truly thought he tried to make a run from the castle. What ARTHUR would do to him if he thought he was trying to make this grand escape from the kingdom while he had the chance, but Merlin had faded his voice into something smaller and unsure by the end, his thoughts going to the ‘get away’ bag he had stored upstairs. It was truly a silly idea whenever he thought about it…thinking he would get very far if he did try to run. And if he’d been right about why those knights were always standing below his window, it reduced his chance of getting anywhere down to practically nothing. But then his heart had skipped a beat, panic giving way to excitement; he knew that needed to be smothered down into nothing. It had just been…so long since he had stepped outside the castle. Merlin had always thought he would live and die inside this kingdom, had thought the only thing he would see was the large walls that encased the entire city in its protective cocoon…all except for Merlin, who felt more like it was an oversized prison than anything else. This place did not seek to shelter him from the storm, keep him safe from the wild animals or bandits that pillaged the roads, or let him have a place to rest his weary head as the sun started falling behind the horizon. This place was concrete and stone and walls that spread around them for miles. And the idea of walking through a real forest again, getting lost amongst the trees like he would back in Ealdor to leave his problems behind…it was almost too much for one boy to bear.

“I’m afraid it won’t be so simple as just leaving the gates whenever you please or want to, Merlin.” Gaius said dryly, as he reached up to tug his glasses away from his nose, using his already dirty shirt in order to clean the lenses from all the soot caused by being in such close quarters with the flames. “Though I do assure you, Uther won’t be throwing you in the dungeons. Not once he knows it was simply an errand for me. Camelot’s Consort cannot be locked down as if he were a prisoner. If he’s in a particular mood, the most he would do will be to put you on house arrest. And considering the king seems unaware of the place you have been sleeping every night, that house arrest will probably take place in your Royal Suite. No more than a week, perhaps a month, and that’s only if I cannot convince him you need to be with me so I can monitor your continued healing.”

Gaius, as he slipped his glasses off to the side where he would no doubt be losing them later on in the day, made it sound as if it was no big deal. But that was a very big deal to Merlin. He could hardly handle being in that awful empty room for a day before he’d escaped to his uncle’s; he could hardly imagine the pain it would cause to be forced to live while watching the hourglass for what time he’d be allowed to leave again. And just knowing Arthur would still be right next door made his skin crawl, as if there were a nest of spiders creeping underneath his skin. And no matter how many times he hit at them, the only thing he did was make them multiply. No, thank you; he would do anything to avoid such a fate. Even if he did get to return to his uncle afterwards, it was something he would want to avoid at all costs.

“Though as Consort, you are also welcome to travel the grounds surrounding the kingdom as you please. But considering you are largely vulnerable without any way of defending yourself—“ Gaius continued speaking, giving Merlin a look only when the younger boy wrinkled his nose at the way Gaius was making him sound so…helpless. Though hadn’t that been what he’d been all this time, just helpless against Arthur and his precious advances? “Any means of being able to defend yourself in a manner that won’t end in your execution—“ he corrected himself, giving his nephew a pointed look to mellow him out. “You will likely be forced to be accompanied by a couple of guards to stop any attempted plots to try kidnapping you for ransom. Morgana herself has those same rules when she wishes to leave the kingdom for a day trip here and there.”

But not Arthur, Merlin thought as something in his stomach tightened up and squeezed with deadly precision. It was a gross oversight on security, since he was next in line for the throne and should be the most protected. But the man also knew how to protect himself, loath as Merlin was to admit this one thing he couldn’t ignore. Though it was hard to imagine anybody would try and take him expecting the prince to pay for his safe return…Arthur was far more likely to pay somebody to take him away for him than anything else. But then again, all his hopes of being able to walk out of this kingdom seemed to die as quick as they had arrived. He would be expected to take knights with him…expected to take knights far from the boundaries of the castle. Merlin knew a very little amount of knights by name and even less that he would be willing to let take him into the woods alone. There was no protection out there, no people that’d see if something happened, no Gaius to hide behind if they tried… They might actually try and kill him and claim it was the work of bandits or something. And if Merlin needed to make a run for it if he couldn’t use his magic…he didn’t know if he would ever stop running. Not thinking of the bag he had packed, or the uncle he would leave behind, or the friends who would question what had happened to him…

“I do believe the knights currently on duty are Tristian and Dorian. Perhaps it’s one of them that would be willing to take you out with them.”

Merlin’s head shot up in surprise, his uncle seeming to have read his nervous and apprehensive expression with ease, giving him a small smirk. And Merlin is able to feel some of the tension melting away from his shoulders. Dorian and Tristian…they were okay. They were the two knights that had accompanied him to Camelot with Leon that very first day, and they were two of the knights that he knew hadn’t hurt him once in his time here. Tristian was a little weird, said jokes Merlin didn’t entirely understand or went straight over his head, but he didn’t seem cruel like the other knights. And Dorian seemed to stick to either himself or plastered to Tristian’s side. Merlin couldn’t exactly say he knew the two well, not more than any of the knights he had met, but he was also pretty confident they wouldn’t try taking a knife to his throat. At least halfway sure he wouldn’t be bending over to pluck some herbs from a root of a tree and stand up to a blade coming around his head and slicing across his throat, cutting off his flow of air in less than an instant.

“I suppose…Dorian and Tristian aren’t the worst people I could be stuck down in the woods with.” Merlin agreed slowly; a stirring of excitement was starting to stir in his belly again. He could hardly wait to hear the crunch of the fallen leaves beneath his foot, smell the crisp air of life that accompanied the trees, see the evergreen grass and dark brown trunks, and see bursts of colors coming from any flowers growing in the area. Merlin bit down on his lip, thrumming his fingers along the outside of his thigh, his old insecurities he had tried keeping on the back burner for so long rearing their ugly heads once again. “But is it okay for me to go? I mean…really? Wouldn’t it be better for you to go with me? What if I bring you grass instead of rosemary? Or a plant that looks like lavender but isn’t lavender? What if I bring you a grassy-looking flower instead of the plant you want? There’s a lot that could go wrong, and it’s not like I’ve ever gone without you before. Any plants I’ve fetched you have always been labeled on the jars…”

Merlin jutted his thumb over his shoulder as if to prove his point, where there was a good dozen or two tiny glass bottles lined along one of the bookshelves. And each one had a different type of crushed plant inside of it, just ready for Gaius to need it for one of his potions or remedies. The only time Merlin could remember doing the actual picking for these plants had been that one time in the plague month, when Gaius had shown him those yellow flowers that were meant to heal depression. The very same flower Merlin had once caught his uncle slipping into his tea back when he had been stuck in the worst bouts of his depression. And anxiety roared in the back of Merlin’s mind—what if he made a really large mistake? What if Gaius used his plant without making sure, and it ended up killing somebody for being the wrong ingredient? What if he ended up picking some kind of berry that was poisonous…Gaius hadn’t asked for any berries. But Merlin had screwed up in other things before; who’s to say that he wouldn’t return with berries anyway! And if his uncle was disappointed, then he would be disgusted with himself, and he would slip back into that dark and awful state he had been in…Merlin could already feel his breath hitching with the thought of something so horrid happening.

“Merlin—“ Gaius’ hand came down sharply on Merlin’s shoulder, not firm like a punishment, but sturdy and strong like a grounding force that brought the boy out of his near panicking state. “Do I seem stupid to you?” And Merlin was left blinking rapidly at the question, not sure if this was really some trick question meant to make him fail, because Gaius had to be the smartest man Merlin had ever met in his life. Had he done something to make Gaius think Merlin didn’t respect him…oh, god. He probably had, hadn’t he? He’d screwed up again, and he still had soup clinging to his face, and he was going to screw up the potion and… Gaius squeezed his shoulder roughly, as if seeing Merlin descending to his dark place again. Putting a screeching halt onto Merlin before he could go too far down, and crap…how was he ever going to make it in the outside world if his own uncle made him panic? Maybe this whole thing was nothing but this major mistake he was about to make. And he would be better off staying here for the rest of his days, where he wouldn’t bother anybody, and nobody would bother him… “What I meant to say, Merlin, is do you think I would send you off if I didn’t think you were prepared for this and knew what you were doing? I do conduct a few tests, you know, to be sure I’m not really sending you out there blind.”

Merlin blinked once and then twice… tests? That couldn’t be right. Uncle Gaius hadn’t tested him on anything before. Merlin had never been very good when his mother would quiz him on things; he was more of a hands-on learner. It was best for him to actually do things; it was easier to remember when he was able to get it in his hands and fiddle around with it to figure it out himself. So he was sure he would have known if Gaius had sat him down and started asking him all the questions he would no doubt fail at answering. But Gaius seemed to be pretty convinced of himself, simply nodding his head to somewhere behind Merlin… The consort followed his gaze. But all he could see was the glass bottles that lined the shelf, their little labels sticking on the side that Merlin had worked on long into the night a few weeks ago. Another one of his little ‘pastimes’ he had done to get his mind off certain things when the nightmares had become too much for the evening, and he didn’t want to go back to sleep. There was only so much he could do to his own room, and only so much he could read in one single night, so looking up these plants and labeling them for a few hours had almost been like a godsend. And Gaius hadn’t said a single word about it when he had woken up the next morning and saw over half of his supplies had ended up moved to another shelf entirely.

“You didn’t really think I would just let you label my belongings without being sure you were at least labeling them right, did you?” Gaius asked him with this low chuckle in his voice, nodding to another bookshelf where there were more tiny glass bottles spread out across the surface, probably the same amount of bottles Merlin had moved. The only difference between the two was Merlin and his labeling and the bottles that bore no labels at all. “I haven’t had any need to label my herbs since I first started my apprenticeship to become a healer. I just waited for you to step upstairs, and you, Merlin, got every one of them right on the mark. With nothing more than a few books and several of them looking identical to the next, you managed to identify what it was. So no, Merlin. I do not believe you will need any assistance in recognizing the ones I request from the ones I have no need for.”

Gaius gave his shoulder one more hard squeeze, and Merlin could feel it like he had just stolen the breath straight from his lungs. So Gaius hadn’t actually been testing him or sneaking in something Merlin hadn’t realized was actually there. He had simply…taken what Merlin had already given him and made some grand deduction about Merlin’s brain level and possible skill set… Merlin felt the blush growing dark on his face as his uncle pulled away from him. That wasn’t…what he had done wasn’t anything special. Anybody could’ve labeled most of those plants if they had the same books Merlin had been looking through. And it hardly mattered that there were at least five different ones that had all bored the same exact shape and color, the only way to differentiate being the shade of yellow pollen in the center of the rosebud. It hardly mattered there were two identical plants that could pass for lavender but definitely were not lavender plants. And could only be differentiated by the subtle way the leaves had been shaped and pointed. And anybody could have figured out what the twenty or so other bottles contained, as long as they had countless hours to do nothing but look it up.

It was hardly anything to get excited about.

Or maybe Merlin just wasn’t used to being praised yet.

His uncle was usually heaping on the praise nowadays, practically celebrating each and every time Merlin did something new. The guy had practically all but thrown a party with a guest list of Morgana and Gwen when Merlin had forced himself into finishing his first entire bowl of soup last week. It was humiliating and completely unnecessary, and Merlin had felt so sick afterwards, but he was sure he would never be able to forget their looks of excitement and the happy, pleased expressions flashed his way. As if Merlin was one step closer to being…normal, again. He never would be after everything he’d dealt with, but…they didn’t have to know that.

And that meant…

A grim expression appeared on Merlin’s face, something that was much more serious than should be allowed for something as small as collecting herbs for his uncle. But the cold sweep of determination washed through him…his uncle was counting on him. Somebody was actually COUNTING on him. And not only that, but they were fully convinced he could do it. Arthur had never once tried being like that. Even when Merlin was in the midst of things, the prince wanted nothing more than to send him away, even during real battles that would have killed him if Merlin hadn’t been there. But none of this was for Arthur; this was for his uncle. And for his uncle…he would do the utmost for anything. To show his uncle the trust and faith he had in him…wasn’t misplaced.

“Oh, and Merlin.” Gaius called over to him from the other side of the room, as he was already using his tongs to move the little bottle he had hovering on top of the little flame and lowering it to rest on the table. “I do hope that you’ll be cleaning up before you leave. A consort can hardly be seen with food smeared all over his face. You’ll never get the proper respect like that.” And the consort slowly lowered his eyes down to his heavily stained tunic; the stench of what had once been his soup was heavily perfuming the air and making him nauseous due to it. His tunic was practically clinging to his chest, the gapped open V showing far more of his chest than it normally did. “Chop, chop, my boy. Those herbs I want are hardly going to gather themselves. Best hurry up before some animal decides they are much better for a snack.”

Merlin’s determination seemed to drain from his body, nodding in agreement to what his uncle said. Though he doubted an animal was really going to snack on all the specific herbs he needed the one time he went out looking for them, his uncle wasn’t wrong. This was practically his grand debut, walking back out into society for the first time in barely a month. He wanted to seem cool, to be looking collected, as if everything that everybody had ever said about him was doing nothing more than rolling straight off his back. How was he supposed to look strong and nonchalant in the face of their jeers and sneers when he was walking around looking as if his dinner attacked him! Merlin started wiping his face with his elbow as he headed up the stairs, deciding it was already ruined, so why not clean up with it until he could wash it later tonight? Though now that he was entering his room and looking at his empty wardrobe, he realized that he was facing an even bigger problem than humiliating himself in front of other people with soup all over his face…

What the hell was he going to wear now?

X

Merlin Pendragon was absolutely positive that everybody in this kingdom was staring at him. Everybody under the sun, from one side of the kingdom to the other, people from the tallest of towers to peeking out the small windows that rested in the cells…he was being watched. Like a hawk. Like a mouse meant to be devoured. Like a potential lion ready to defend the pack. Like a snake that’d get eaten by the mongoose. Friend or foe. Enemy or consort. Mystery wrapped in a woven hand basket with nothing more to show it…Merlin anxiously tried to spin his wedding ring around his finger. Something he did to remind himself of the hell he found himself in being real, but it was hard to do that when the ring was no longer there.

Merlin cursed himself in his head, jerking his hand away from his wedding ring finger. After a gleeful month of not wearing it, one would’ve thought he wasn’t going to reach for it anymore. But no, the feeling of still having it continued to persist, like the feeling one had when they lost a limb and kept reacting as if they thought it was still there. Painfully agonizing to realize it would no longer be a part of him…the only thing that remained was the very thin tan line that all but said Merlin had once worn a ring. And without it there to twirl, Merlin then forced himself to keep his hands busy by other means. Namely, pulling his own jacket as closed as the fabric would allow him to, nearly squeezing him much smaller than he already was, and crossing his arms around his chest to hold it closed.

His eyes darted left and right across the courtyard as he walked as fast as he was able to, meeting eyes with a maid there and a knight here, a servant that struggled with the weight of the laundry basket and a guard dragging off some thief to the dungeons—both of which openly stared at him. Merlin bit back this irritated growl and sped up his walk, the thumping of Gaius’ satchel bouncing up and down against his hip, a needed accessory for the herbs he needed to get. But an accessory he wished he could use to beat some people over their heads instead for staring at him. He already knew he looked like a freak, thank you very much; he didn’t need the extra attention to confirm it. He didn’t need people looking at him at all.

Maybe they were seeing the bright coloring of his top trying to peek out from beneath his jacket…Maybe they were seeing how hunched over Merlin was in his efforts to hide it from view… Maybe they were looking at him for the sheer reason of this being his first time in the public’s eye in a month. Merlin would not be able to say he knew. But he could say this…He had already been out in the world for a good ten minutes now, and nobody had tried pushing him off of his feet. Nobody had tried spitting at him in the face to show their displeasure at his presence. Nobody had stuck their leg out to trip him. Nobody had tried stealing his bag—which was empty, so there was at least nothing to ruin at the moment—so they could dump it out and scatter the belongings for Merlin to get back up. On the contrary, there seemed to be some…gloomy atmosphere that hung in the air.

So strange for a day where the sun shone brighter than any other.

Or maybe it was Merlin himself who was carrying the gloomy atmosphere like a shroud, and it was starting to spread out and affect the people who had come across him. The maid with the basket had let out a startled shriek when he had met eyes with her, dropping her laundry all across the ground and scattering a noble lady’s undergarments to the perverse views of an uncouth man. He may have stayed to help her pick it up if he thought such a thing would have been welcomed. And then there was the prisoner the knight had been escorting; he had dropped himself straight onto the ground so he couldn’t be dragged back to the cells. Not before he could stare at Merlin for an ungodly amount of time with his eyes that seemed like they were far too big for his head. The one who was escorting him had to throw the prisoner over his shoulder to get them to start moving, but still…The prisoner angled his head to watch Merlin as long as he possibly could before they rounded the corner. And this would continue the whole walk to the training grounds…He needed to pass the grounds if he wanted to get to the gates, or he would have avoided them entirely. With the people, noble and servant, stopping just so they could stare at him.

It was disturbing.

And creepy.

Distrusting.

And surely his unseen tunic couldn’t have caused such a distraction as to get the entire town up in arms over him?

Why, he hadn’t gotten this many simple stares since the day he appeared at his own wedding and everybody was expecting a noblewoman of the court to enter…

“This is really fascinating, isn’t it?” A voice spoke out against Merlin’s side, and the consort nearly flinched back in alarm. So aware he was of the people that he passed by, he had become completely complacent and unaware of one of these people approaching him…Leon. A breath escaped from his throat; it was only Leon. Leon was okay to be around. Leon wasn’t going to use this chance to jump him like another knight would have. Leon didn’t seem to even notice he had startled Merlin, though, gazing out ahead of him to watch the silence of the people staring back at them… They almost felt like ghosts. Special beings meant to only exist in Merlin’s orbit but had no means of communicating and starting up trouble. “What saving the life of their crown prince can do to some people. It’s almost like there’s a shift in the air, something about the winds starting to change direction. It’s odd, but not off-putting, I would say. Not if we have those winds facing our most esteemed consort.”

Esteemed consort…Merlin repeated mindlessly in his head, blinking over at the knight as he tried to figure out what he was going on about. He was so used to being referred to as the ‘unwanted consort’ that hearing ‘esteemed’ attaching itself onto his title was another startled-worthy event altogether. But then he’d said the winds were changing…shifting in the air…Merlin had always been most attuned to nature. Could sit for hours in a forest and listen to the cracking of a branch as squirrels ran across, hear the crunching of leaves as a doe ran past him, breathing in the crisp air that was so full of life and growth, something he knew most people ignored. Pretending they couldn’t feel the vibrancy of life as it roared beneath their feet. But the winds are changing now… Leon made it sound as if it was a good thing. Something to be remarked on with a sense of pride is what the future might hold.

Merlin only felt ominous. 

As if there really was something stirring in the air, something striking within the clouds trying to get their attention and screaming until somebody would finally bother looking up… This wasn’t something good. This was something the consort knew was reflecting back on him, and if it had anything to do with him, then…it wasn’t the good sign Leon tried making it out to be. He could feel the hair standing on end, his paranoia telling him to run back to the safety of Gaius and his home. But his feet kept walking ahead as if it was completely out of his control. Telling him he would need to keep going forward. Telling him he could not stay a coward for the rest of his days. Telling him to heal by staying exactly where it was he was now. 

“What—what do you mean?” Merlin stuttered anxiously; he hadn’t been nearly as worried about what was happening when he had last left his room, when he had spoken to King Bayard himself. It had almost been as if something that felt so much more powerful than Merlin himself, but another version of himself the consort knew liked to hide inside, coming out only when he needed strength to do what must be done—could ever hope to be. Merlin pulled his coat tighter all around him, as if trying to abate the chill that came only from inside his bones, rather than the weather itself. “People aren’t watching me because I…because I saved Arthur’s life. I did that before, and they didn’t do it then. I mean, not like they are now. There’s another reason for these stares, but that’s certainly not it! Not an event that happened a month ago.”

The memory of the last time Merlin had saved Arthur’s life in front of an entire audience, the only time…had been the night of their wedding. He could almost still feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins after he had thrown himself on top of Arthur before the witch’s dagger could pierce him straight through his heart. The people had clapped and cheered for him then, but it had been barely two weeks later when the whole Valiant thing had happened, and all the love had started to sour into something hateful and horrid. But surely the love wouldn’t return just because he had saved Arthur’s life again…not when he’d done it for purely selfish reasons, when he’d done it to end his own life in the biggest way he could think of. Arthur’s life was purely inconsequential to what he had been doing. Camelot really wasn’t so fickle as to change their attention over this…

Who the hell was he kidding? Camelot was as fickle as could be and changed their thoughts quicker than it took to flip a coin through the air.

And Merlin didn’t want the love. Not if he had to die just to get some kind of gratitude around here.

“You really don’t think what you did had some kind of influence going on round this place? It’s probably the one thing that people have been talking about this month alone. I’m honestly surprised that nobody has tried to mob you yet and ask you questions about what happened.” Leon drawled out, nodding his head to a mother whose child yanked roughly on her skirts to point at Merlin with rapid attention. Merlin flushed and ducked his head, trying to hide himself just a bit better behind Leon’s body as they passed. He…Merlin didn’t want this at all. He had known people were going to be talking about him, had known that it could even be chaotic. But he had assumed it would’ve been over with by this point. He hadn’t expected he would actually have to face it anytime soon. And deal with it. And…none of this was okay. Even getting attacked by some crazy, overzealous knight sounded so much better than the stares did. At least Merlin was used to being attacked by now. “I mean…I did hear this one knight jokingly call you ‘savior of the prince,’ not that long ago. A thing like this can only bolster your reputation. A stepping stone, if you will, to something great if you keep building upon it.”

Leon was talking about all these great things, becoming a person that may be truly important to this kingdom for more than just the title he wore, but Merlin felt his throat squeezing in response as if the noose was being tightened along his neck. Savior of the prince? That was what people were calling him? Merlin never thought he would live to see the day where he was the savior of anything; he hardly expected to see another tomorrow. And the pressure of being a ‘savior’ disturbed him greatly. People hadn’t expected things other than messing it all up for so long; would they suddenly start expecting more from him? Expecting him to do something ‘great’ the next time something happened? Merlin hadn’t ‘ever’ set out to do something great. He had only done what nobody else was willing or could do, all those times he had gotten involved when he was told to sit back and shut up. There was nothing ‘great’ about that. Just a boy trying to do what he felt was right. A boy who couldn’t actually do anything if he didn’t have his magic assisting him every step of the way…

“Oh, don’t worry so much, Merlin.” Leon seemed to see the stress building into the creases of Merlin’s forehead, giving him a soft nudge against his arm. But Merlin darted his eyes around, stare after stare, following him and making him itch in really weird places all of a sudden. “This is a good thing. It’s about time that some of Camelot is starting to grow curious about you. It might finally make a good majority of them shut their mouths for once.” And though this was also a word of comfort, Merlin hunched himself in closer, trying to make himself look so much smaller. Having attention wasn’t a good thing. What if people started getting ‘too’ curious about him? Started looking at him more. Started seeing a hint of magic in him that couldn’t be unseen…Was it really only a matter of time before he ended up tied to the stake just like in his dreams? Merlin’s knuckles were nearly a bloodless white from how hard he was clenching into the folds of his jacket, reminding himself to breathe and be calm, and perhaps Knight Leon was right about this being a good thing. Not being shoved into walls anymore could hardly be considered bad. “Well, most people are seeing things a little bit differently; it seems to be mostly among the servants, though. The knights do not seem to be budging on their stance, maybe one or two, but that’s it. These servants, though, seem to be a bit more reasonable, though I can’t speak for all of them, of course. I’m sure that many still hold their prejudices, but that is just something that can’t be helped for the moment.”

Merlin only looked up when he recognized the grim tone Leon was speaking to him with, but Leon was no longer looking at him. His gaze rested on this set of knights walking past them, muscles bulging and looking bigger than their own heads as they glared at Merlin with death in their eyes. Withering and hateful and dark…Merlin pulled his elbows into his sides even tighter than they were already. They didn’t stop glaring at him until they passed by completely; Merlin had no doubt in his mind that they would have tried pulling the usual antics the knights did with him if they weren’t out in the open. Or perhaps…perhaps just the presence of Leon was enough to sway them from doing anything that was particularly stupid at the moment. Merlin was just a consort—a powerful figure in the kingdom, but hardly one anybody had held respect for—but Leon was the captain of the royal guard, basically. Who answered to only a handful of people, and half of those people were the royal family itself. The soldiers probably had so much respect piled up towards him, enough that just standing beside Merlin is a large deterrent against the assaults he usually dealt with.

“Don’t mind them, or anybody else who might try and give you grief. They are clearly only jealous because it’s not their name being spoken all over the place for saving Uther’s heir. They should all just be bloody grateful that nothing far worse actually happened to him.” Leon grumbled under his breath, the two of them stopping only when they reached the grassy beginnings of the training fields, which was… Easier said than done, the consort thought as he fiddled with his hands on his jacket anxiously. All Merlin ever did was allow people to give him grief for things long since past. And he knew he couldn’t do that anymore…his new lease on life needed to have some changes to what he had been dealing with. But even if the attacks against him ‘did lessen’ some because of what he had done…it didn’t feel like it would be enough. One assault against him would be one assault too many. But he couldn’t just let it go or dust himself off and move on with his life as he had been. How was he supposed to get better if it continued? It was mostly the knights, after all, that put hands on him. And as Leon had said, it was mostly the servants who were interested in what he had done. That didn’t mean it would ‘change anything’ for the long run. They may show interest for a few days now that he is out and go right back to giving him glares or turning their noses up at him or making him feel generally…like the unwanted consort he’s been all this time. “Hey,” Leon’s voice cut in once again, and Merlin only raised his head up when Leon gave his chin a little tiny bump with his knuckle. “Chin up, alright, Merlin. Things will change for good soon enough, I’m sure of it. These people are only just now starting to see the things you can really do. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing, and I have no doubt that this entire kingdom will be eating directly out of your palm one day very soon.”

Merlin didn’t say anything and simply nodded his head, trying to force himself to stand up a little straighter. It was good to know Leon had some optimism about his situation when Merlin had always been fresh out of it. He hardly had a thing to hope for when his hopes had always been dashed again and again for as long as he had been in this city. But hunching in like a coward…That may be inviting more of his normal everyday assaults to resume. If anybody sensed a weakness about him, it would be like sharks showing up for the scent of blood trickling into the ocean. They would be all over him again. But maybe if he was just able to channel how indifferent he had been when he’d faced Bayard that one time…maybe he could find some relief. Prevent the assaults from coming as violently as they once had, before they had the chance to start again. The consort just needed to keep breathing, as his uncle reminded him on an almost daily basis, and…put his best foot forward. Be stronger, so he wouldn’t end up weak…

He could do that.

Maybe…

Though the people eating out of the palm of his hand really was a stretch. It was hardly an okay thought to have in his mind. People kneeling down at his feet to suckle what handful of grains he was allowing them to have. As if he was a god amongst them, a higher being meant to rule, somebody to be worshipped right at the altar… Merlin wrinkled his nose. Only a truly insane person would want to have that kind of devotion directed at them. Merlin himself would settle on the anonymous presence he had carried with him before people had realized he was the consort. Sure, he had gotten into a few fistfights with Arthur and even got stuck in the stocks, but… Such a life would not have been a bad life. It was going to be the day Arthur finally realized it was ‘Merlin’ he kept sending all of his weird gifts and came after him as if it was somehow Merlin’s fault for his weird behavior. Perhaps he would even give him a matching bruise on the other side of his face to reminisce on the last time he had done it.

“And Consort Merlin—“ Merlin Pendragon looked up with the sound of his title being announced, his breath tightening and arms wanting to come up to wrap around himself before he forced them to stay down at his sides…Leon had his hand poised directly over his heart in a fist. His head tilted down somewhat as if he was bowing, but not actually bowing. Respect. Honor. Trust. These would all be things Merlin could see in Leon’s loose posture. But the twinkle inside of his eyes held amusement. Something that made Merlin relax a bit: some of the anxiousness he had been carrying with him started to drain. “I do hope to see you come to me if anybody causes you trouble. I will set them to rights about how one should treat our consort. But unfortunately,” the amusement in the knight’s eyes faded a bit as he grimaced. “I need to pick up some documents that the king needs, reports from the outer villages. There’s something going on that’s got the villagers up in arms, so we need to figure out what is going on down there.”

Merlin solemnly nodded, though he already knew that he wouldn’t be going to Leon should something happen. The man was just being nice, offering to get involved and ‘protect him.’. That was probably just what people around these parts would say…Kind of like when somebody said they wanted to invite you to dinner one of these days, but they never actually did. Most people didn’t want to be dragged into the burdens of another’s life, though, so he would hardly be taking Leon up on his offer. Merlin might be willing to accept help from others now, but he had all the help he needed. And besides, the man ‘was’ the one that had brought him to Camelot in the first place. So perhaps he might still be harboring a bit of resentment from that still, even when he could hardly fault the other knight for following the orders of the king. It wasn’t like Leon knew what had been in store for him here… Merlin watched as the other knight then started to walk off in the opposite direction. Heading to wherever these very important documents would be being held…

The consort furrowed his eyebrows together some, causing them to stretch across his face like one giant unibrow. In normal circumstances, a knight on a mission would have never divulged the information Leon had told him about those documents. Information like trouble needed to be kept out of the hands of normal civilians in case it started to spread and caused chaos to happen in the streets. But perhaps Leon felt comfortable mentioning what he had since Merlin ‘still’ bore the title he would renounce in a heartbeat if it was given to him as an option. Though if there was really trouble brewing somewhere out in the outer villages…Merlin’s curious side that kept getting him into trouble was almost screaming at him to find out what it was. Maybe it was the same kinds of trouble Merlin’s village had always found itself in. Lacking food to go around properly, bandits roamed the streets and took everything they worked really hard—all winter—just to get.

Or was it something even worse than that?

Did Camelot have larger problems than Ealdor had faced?

Did Uther actually care enough about the protection of his outer villages to do something if they were truly in distress?

Or did he leave them to rot?

Just like King Cenred had left Ealdor to rot.

Nope, nope, nope, nope. Merlin was not going to go there, he decided as he spun around and started striding across the grassy plains of the training area, bound and determined to ignore the stares trying to scorch his flesh. He had a very rigid schedule to keep, a very rigid mindset he had to maintain if he didn’t want to end up spiraling even further than he had moments before. He needed to do what his uncle asked him to do, return home victorious, and try this all over again tomorrow. He was most definitely not going to try tracking Leon down to get more information on what’s going on. He was definitely not going to get himself involved if something real was actually happening. That was what Camelot had guards and knights and kings for.

Why did they need him?

Other than being the one person who actually gave a shit about the ‘little people,’ some might call them.

…Shit, Merlin thought as he sped his walking up until he was just shy of full-on sprinting. He knew if he stopped now, he was going to immediately go chasing after Leon and fall straight back down into the same patterns he was trying in vain to break. One small step, Merlin kept repeating in his head until it banged around inside his skull like the beating drum or mantra, was all it would take to unravel absolutely everything he had achieved so far. HE HAD WALKED RIGHT OUTSIDE FOR BLOODY SAKE! Going back to his old ways wouldn’t do anything more than see him hiding in his chambers again.

Merlin couldn’t go back there.

No matter what…he COULD NOT lose his recovery.

He needed to hang onto it more than he needed anything else right now…

If only Merlin had been paying more attention to where he was heading, then maybe he would’ve gotten more of a warning than what he got. Maybe if he’d been paying more attention, he would’ve noticed about twenty or so men that were lined up in a loose circle. Maybe if he’d been paying attention, he would have noticed a certain blond head belonging to a certain man was standing dead center of the circle. Maybe if only he had been paying more attention…he would’ve seen Arthur Pendragon long before Arthur Pendragon saw him.

Maybe then, he would’ve been able to escape without facing him.

X

“HARDER SOLDIER! I DO NOT WANT TO MAKE YOU RECOUNT YOUR NUMBER ALL OVER AGAIN! DO YOU WANT TO DO THAT SOLDIER, HUH! SHOULD SEND YOU BACK TO THE DUNGEONS IF YOU CAN’T EVEN DO A SIMPLE FIFTY SETS OF PUSH-UPS ON COMMAND!” Arthur Pendragon was practically bellowing at the knight on the ground at his feet, struggling to push himself past his twenty-first push-ups. And Arthur ignored the cautious stares being shared around the circle he had constructed of his men…His friends Markus and Christian, Julian and Bryon, were looking particularly disgruntled by the grueling drills he was putting this one knight through. But if anybody deserved to have Arthur’s ire lash against them, it would have been this particular knight. And Arthur quite cruelly placed his boot on the man’s back, watching in satisfaction whenever he came so close to crumbling to the ground completely from Arthur’s added weight. “COME ON, SOLDIER! YOU ARE HOLDING UP OUR TRAINING! Twenty-two! Twenty-three! Twenty-four! Twenty-five! COME ON SOLDIER! I NEED TO SEE ANOTHER TWENTY-FIVE BEFORE I AM SATISFIED! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!”

Arthur Pendragon had been having an exceedingly rough morning, rough right to the extreme. And he was more than willing to take that frustration out on this specific knight. But what did one expect when they discovered there was a five-foot snake in his consort’s room…yep. A five-foot snake had been found in his consort’s royal bedchambers just minutes before. It was the strangest of things Arthur had seen in quite a while, watching as one of his knights carted it out of the room in a giant crate somebody had brought up there after one of the maids had alerted Arthur to the problem with her shrill screaming, jumping on top of his consort’s bed in an effort to escape the hissing creature…Arthur was currently having the entire room deep cleaned after the whole experience.

Usually, Arthur had been having the maids come to his consort’s room at least once a week, mainly so they could dust the room, open the windows to air the space out, change the sheets…pretty much keep it livable. Arthur didn’t have any delusions about Merlin moving in soon, but…he liked to be prepared if he did ever decide to return. And now he was needing to have the room checked to make sure there wasn’t a nest of eggs lying somewhere, just waiting to be hatched and cause an infestation in his consort’s sacred rooms. And there was no telling if the maid’s boot stains were going to come out of Merlin’s very own teal comforter…Arthur could not have Merlin returning only to find he had that bloody boot print embedded on his blankets!

“THIRTY-FIVE, SOLDIER! YOU AREN’T EVEN CLOSE TO FIFTY! DO I NEED TO ADD ANOTHER FIFTY JUST TO GET YOU MOTIVATED!” Arthur continued with his screaming, leaning more heavily on his leg, pressing the boot harder right in-between the man’s shoulder blades. Watching the way his arms shook with the strain was more satisfying than when his heart had leaped straight into his throat that morning when he had been dressing into his armor and heard those screams coming from his consort’s room. For one half beat of a second, Arthur had been almost positive that it was Merlin screaming, despite it clearly being a female scream. His consort was screaming bloody murder because he needed to be protected, needed his help, needed him, and here he was right next door doing absolutely nothing! Arthur hadn’t even had his chest plate buckled up properly before he had come running and kicked the door down, sword ready in his hand and flashing dangerously at whatever threat—the witch had finally come! Would take him away! Couldn’t allow it!—was coming for Merlin. Arthur hadn’t expected the chaotic scene of the maid jumping on the bed with that coiled-up snake raising its ugly head to hiss threateningly at Arthur. “COME ON ALREADY, DAMMIT! YOU ARE JUST NOW REACHING FORTY! A TRUE KNIGHT OF CAMELOT WOULD HAVE FINISHED IN HALF THE TIME YOU’RE TAKING! DO NOT TELL ME YOUR TIME IN THE DUNGEONS MESSED YOU UP AS BADLY AS I THINK IT DID!” 

And Arthur ignored the way his men were sharing startled looks at his foul language, but the prince refused to be shamed or apologize for something like that. They had all said improper words, usually during times of fun, like when they slept in the woods during a hunting party. If they could say it, then the bloody prince should be allowed to say it when he was in this particularly foul mood. His consort had taught him that…Arthur clenched his jaw and pushed a bit more pressure on the back of the knight, forcing him down to the ground till his nose brushed the dirt before allowing him to push himself back up to try completing his set. He needed the distraction. He could hardly imagine what it would have been like if his consort had actually been staying in his suites as this whole incident was taking place. Arthur had been so distracted with trying to see to Merlin’s protection from witches, he had hardly considered a threat might come from the reptile population.

But obviously, who would have thought of that to begin with!

Arthur still should have put up some sort of measure to make sure no pests or other animals would be able to get into those chambers.

The snake wasn’t even poisonous or dangerous in any way; Arthur had ended up being reassured by one of his knights. It was one of the more common kinds of snakes that could be easily found in one of their surrounding forests. There was no telling how it had managed to get into the castle and inside that room without being seen or taken out sooner. But the snake did carry a pretty hard bite when it was scared…it made Arthur sick to his stomach. Imagining a snake snapping forward and clamping its long fangs into the fragile skin of his young consort. Piercing his skin. Making him bleed. A bite mark was hardly the worst Merlin had been through, but Arthur should be reasonably certain he could’ve kept his consort safe from a bloody reptile.

He had never thought he would be grateful for Merlin sleeping at his uncle’s…thankful the screams hadn’t been screams of pain from Merlin. Thankful that his consort hadn’t been sleeping in his bed only to wake up with a snake that wanted to make a nest among his blankets. And if the thing had been bigger than it was…what if it decided a sleeping Merlin was a threat and tried to get its body around him? Tried constricting Merlin between the muscle that was his long, scaled form. Turning his consort blue as he gasped for breath, waking to another death that Arthur couldn’t stop…The prince growled lowly in his throat and started barking back down at the knight in order to keep the possibilities of what could’ve happened out of his mind.

“ALRIGHT SOLDIER! IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME! THAT’S FIFTY PUSH-UPS! I’LL HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT BECAUSE YOU’LL HAVE TO DO FIFTY MORE BEFORE WE CONCLUDE OUR SESSION TODAY!” Arthur bellowed, removing away from the back of Knight Charles. Knight Charles was the very knight who, a very few months ago, had allowed Knight Valiant access to the royal hallway. The very same knight who had watched and did nothing as that man beat and tried his best to kick down his consort’s bedroom door, back when it was common for him to be in his suites, so he could rape him. The man had been down in the dungeons for the last two months, chained to the wall; he had been demoted, and that was the only reason he was here as part of Arthur’s training. The man had already been stuck with the fresh lilies recruits class that had concluded only moments ago, but Arthur wasn’t done torturing him yet and made him attend a second session. A grueling punishment, painful, forever known as the Knight who could not be trusted, lucky to not have been banished from the city when he had been released. But trust Arthur, if Knight Charles tried pulling the same kind of shit today as he had then, he would be lucky to get banishment instead of a sword gutting through his belly like a pig. He wasn’t playing around with the safety of his consort anymore. “GET YOUR ARSE BACK IN LINE, AND I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR A SINGLE WORD FROM YOU UNTIL I GIVE YOU EXPLICIT PERMISSION! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!”

Knight Charles's entire body shook after Arthur’s harsh punishment, burning in shame under the watchful eyes of the other knights, before throwing himself up to his feet. Giving Arthur a quick bow and returning to his place inside the circle among the knights. The prince himself sniffed in disdain, showing all his disgusted displeasure at the knight, before looking around the circle he’d gone and amassed for today. Nobody seemed to be meeting his eye, petrified that it would be them next who caught his ire, but that only made the prince agitated more, and he rolled his eyes. None of them had done anything to him, or to his consort, to warrant having his wrath blasted on them tenfold compared to whatever their digression was.

All in all, there were about twenty knights surrounding him. A small handful of them, like his friends, had joined, wanting the extra training and as volunteers to show off their skills if Arthur needed a proper demonstration to be shown to the other recruits. This was the more seasoned class of recruits, meaning they were verging on being able to graduate to full knight status. This group of men had been working non-stop in their training for over a year, with sessions under the prince’s guidance every other day in order to get their skills to meet where the prince thought they should be. And Arthur had shown none of them one single ounce of mercy. If they wanted somebody to hold their hand and walk beside them through this, then they needed to return to their homes to their mothers and stop wasting Arthur’s time. He was here to raise an army, a group of men that would be better than any other, a group of men that he could entrust the protection of his kingdom and his consort to if such a thing ever did become necessary. There was only one thing left to do in order to be completed with their training, though Arthur hardly expected any of these men would be able to land a hit on him in single combat. They were too fresh, and many of them had never been a part of a live battle, the kind of fight that held more than just a man’s honor at stake if they lost.

Arthur wasn’t interested in seeing his men losing.

But the point of this part of the training wasn’t to see if they could land a real hit on him or not; he would pass them anyway if he thought they deserved to be moved up in status. The whole point of this was only so Arthur was able to test their skill levels for himself, see where they stood in their training, and the prince only moved them up if they had impressed him. Whether that be because they were faster than most men, or smart enough to detect a trick when they saw one, or because of some other trick of the trade Arthur thought may make a strong addition to their kingdom. There was a reason his father mostly left all the knights and their training under Arthur’s strict care.

Because Camelot Knights had never been stronger.

Especially since Arthur had replaced the last trainer, who seemed more than happy to move up people depending on how high up their family was in the line of nobility, whether or not they had the actual skill set that would have kept them alive in a real battle. But the last name of his men wasn’t anything he was interested in. He didn’t care how important a man thought himself to be. He wasn’t going to have them buried just because they had gotten more cocky than they should’ve, thinking they were special when Arthur himself is able to chew them up and spit them out into the dregs. He was harsh, yes, it was, though, only because he expected the best out of his men.

And he wouldn’t accept anything less.

Not even from himself.

“ALRIGHT! I NEED TRAINEE CULDRON TO COME FRONT AND CENTER IF HE’S WANTING TO EARN HIS PLACE IN MY ARMY!” Arthur bellowed out, calling the first name that came to mind. He hardly glanced at the far-too-nervous-looking man striding out of the circle to join Arthur in the middle. He honestly just did not want to be here right now, which would have to be a first. Whenever Arthur had gotten stressed or needed to take a breather, he could always find a good distraction amongst his training sessions. Even when he was by himself, with nothing more than a straw dummy to sling his sword at again and again to feel his muscles burning with the exertion, it had been a good way to empty away his head. Not today though, thought the prince as he pulled his sword out of its sheath tied to his belt, and watching as the other knight shakily did the same thing, mirroring him but failing to carry the same strength Arthur did. “This is a single combat fight. You know the rules! If you can land a hit on me, then you shall bring honor to your families and will be inducted as a knight of Camelot… Are you ready, Sir Culdron?”

Sir Culdren nodded his head shakily, a jumpy little fella he was. And the prince knew the only reason he was here at all was because it was his duty and what was expected of him from his family. Arthur knew all about duty and what that duty might demand of you. It was his duty to this kingdom that had led to him marrying Merlin. But it was his duty to his consort that weighed heavily within his own heart…it had been a struggle. This entire month. Needing to stay right where he was instead of constantly checking on Merlin every hour by the hour just to make sure nothing had gone wrong in his absence. It was nearly anxiety-inducing; he had been spending a lot of time pacing back and forth around the inside of his chambers to prevent himself from acting rashly. It was Merlin who had sent him away, so it should be Merlin that called him back. He needed to stay away because Merlin wanted him to, and Arthur had not done a single thing he thought would be worth mentioning right now for Merlin. He could at least follow this one command…the gifts he sent and the reports he got from the men he had watching him were really the only connection he’d had to Merlin since his consort had left him alone on the steps.

“Then let us begin.”

Unfortunately for Arthur, or perhaps fortunately for Merlin, his father had kept him plenty busy this month. It was the only reason he hadn’t left his chambers at all…His studying had kept him from making a mad dash to Merlin’s side, and that was something Arthur knew would very well happen if he was allowed on his own for more than an hour. His father had all but ordered Arthur to read the archives sent to him by Geoffrey; it was pretty much everything that had to do with detailing Gaius’ family. His father wanted dearly to make sure they hadn’t gone—Arthur hadn’t gone—and messed up their relationship with that family. So, the prince had to learn every fact about Gaius as a means of winning his favor and hopefully bring up something in conversation to make Gaius feel important for Arthur knowing such a minor fact about him. It was politics and establishing a connection and networking and all of that, and Arthur hadn’t exactly been any stranger to learning about the most important people of society. And what one may have to offer the Pendragon family in exchange for something else…

Freedom…

Power…

Titles…

Land…

Respect…

But nothing Arthur had read had told him one thing about Merlin…obviously, he wasn’t in any of the books. He had known it would already be useless; if Gaius’ parent hadn’t claimed Merlin’s mother as their child, then it wouldn’t have ever been written down on the family tree of the section. He had torn those books apart, though, trying to find even one hint of Merlin’s mother within the pages of the text. But just as he had expected…there wasn’t anything. She might as well have been a ghost, the same as her son. He had wanted to learn far more than he knew about Merlin, something to abate his curiosity while he kept his distance…Geoffrey had been most affronted when told there was a mistake in the records. But at least now, the next time Arthur had to read over the family tree of Gaius, he would see Merlin’s name marked below, full royal title and all, to reflect his change in status.

CONSORT MERLIN PENDRAGON

At least having his name written down in the records made him feel more real than he was. Less like he had popped out of the middle of nowhere with his one purpose being to become Arthur’s consort. His name being written meant he had come from somewhere, meant he had a history and a past, meant there was a whole life—nineteen years of it—that Merlin had spent somewhere without him. But sadly, this was the only good thing that had happened with all of that studying he’d done. He could hardly fix things with Merlin by knowing that his uncle’s family became a minor nobility family after Gaius’ grandfather did the king of the time—Arthur’s grandfather—a major favor that helped keep the king in power, though the actual details seemed to have been lost to time. It didn’t matter though…knowing Gaius’ mother had been a healer during a time where women healers were considered witches rather than just the female version of their male counterparts did Arthur very little good when it came to reflecting on how much longer it would have to be before he was allowed back within his consort’s presence.

It was Merlin; he needed to learn about it.

Not Gaius for his father’s own political agenda.

Now, if there were actual records on Merlin in the archives, something that the prince knew literally every noble family had their names and achievements put down…that would’ve actually been useful information. Knowing Gaius started as a healer when he was twenty-five, impressive due to the young age, wasn’t helpful to him. Knowing Gaius had become the royal physician when he turned forty-six again didn’t help him one whit with Merlin. Knowing Gaius was Merlin’s bloody uncle! Didn’t help him one whit with Merlin… Arthur growled lowly under his breath and ducked the wild swing of the knight’s sword as it sailed over his head in an arch so wide, a child could have dodged it without problem. He was able to see at least ten different openings where he could take out the other in a quick second.

But he didn’t.

Arthur simply kept up his charade of paying attention, being focused as he did a full walk around in circles, sidestepping as the other knight copied him… not an ounce of originality within him. God, something like this would have driven him straight to frustration on any other day. Because it felt like nobody around was giving a crap anymore. Wanting to do their duty and go home. Nobody wanted to work for the honor of bearing their red capes and crests; nobody else felt like they were breathing, sleeping, eating with the honor of knighthood; it should have been burning beneath their veins and singing in their blood just the same as it did with Arthur. These jesters…they would never understand what it would mean to truly be a knight.

Arthur sometimes wondered if he was the only one who did.
 
But Arthur, as he swung his sword into a sharp motion at the man’s side, slow enough that once again even a child could’ve blocked him, didn’t know if there was any honor left in him. He tried doing all these little things for Merlin while staying away from him, and yet, nothing he did ever felt like it was going to be enough. He could probably send Merlin all the gifts he could get his hands on in the world, and still…it wouldn’t be enough to assuage the guilt he felt…and the prince vaguely heard a yelp from the other knight as he slammed his blade against his own harder than he meant to. But the blood was starting to rush in his ears, thinking about the meaningless gifts that would never stop Merlin’s rightful, righteous fury towards him.

So he tried overcompensating…a lot.

And cursed himself when it failed…a lot.

Even though it was weeks ago, Arthur was still stressed out over how stupid he had been to send Merlin a literal feast that first night. He was trying to help his consort! Trying to feed him. Arthur might not be able to check for himself if his consort was still hurting himself…Surely Morgana, who Arthur knew was always in close contact with Merlin, though she refused to discuss anything that went on during these times…would’ve told him if he still was. Though at least he could be bloody sure he wouldn’t be starving, little as that did to actually help him. How the bloody hell should Arthur have known too much would make his consort sick if he tried eating it? But no…that was nothing more than an excuse. Because Arthur SHOULD have known, been more aware, and less self-involved to know what was best for Merlin in regard to his health.

The other knight yelled again, nearly dropping his sword completely when the prince stepped forward, bashing at the other blade as if it was part of one of his training dummies, rather than a real man that would bleed if he lost control of himself. But Arthur couldn’t see the man in front of him; he saw himself and the horrid person he was. He saw somebody who deserved to be beaten with a sword a few times, or perhaps every time he did something that pulled Merlin away from him further. He had sent personal gifts to Merlin! Thinking not even he could screw up something so badly. Giving items even Merlin would find a need for….

Arthur still didn’t think the boots had been a bad idea. In all the times he had spent in Merlin’s room…when he had dug through his belongings during their plague in search of witchcraft items like everybody else, when he had been in there after stepping away from his consort’s poisoned bedside…he could not remember seeing another set of boots. Which obviously meant the one, only pair Merlin owned was the scuffed-up ones he always wore. Something very common for peasants, but his consort deserved to have an entire shelf filled with nothing but freshly buffed boots. With various colors and styles…latest designs crafted for the pleasure of the noble class.

No…it hadn’t been the boots that had been the problem, though Arthur kept them in a box beneath his bed after he had found them returned to him…just in case Merlin ever decided he wanted them.

His real fatal mistake had been the second gift that had accompanied them…

Arthur Pendragon growled again, throwing himself forward and ramming hard the butt of his blade into the side of the other knight’s head, making him start stumbling back as Arthur’s face burned in humiliation. He had known sending such a thing had been a bad idea before he had even sent it, but Madame Teresa had bloody well insisted Merlin would need them. All Arthur wanted to get when he called for her was some kind of idea on what Merlin might want, some inkling as to what his next gift would be if boots didn’t please him well enough. But Madame Teresa had hardly been any help, considering she made whatever she wanted with little to no actual input from Merlin on preferences…

Madame Teresa had brought him back undergarments.

Fucking undergarments.

Because she was sure Merlin ‘needed them,’ and fuck it. Arthur had been oh so very desperate to get Merlin something he could use. 

But damn it, Arthur had dropped the package as soon as he pulled them out of the box she had them in. As if he had just been scorched by them. He couldn’t handle seeing them. Just like he could barely get his mouth to work whenever he had worked up the nerve to hand the package over to the maid to deliver to his consort. He had to repeat himself five times just for her to understand him, and then he had spent the rest of the night in agony. Pure berating himself for actually going through with it. How the hell was he supposed to sleep that night when he kept thinking about it?

Arthur had gifted Merlin UNDERGARMENTS!

There was something nauseatingly intimate about doing this, about him all but picking out the fucking underthings for himself. He was stressing him out, wondering if the next time he saw Merlin, he would be wearing them. Clearly it wasn’t something Arthur would know, lest he do something crazy like pull back the boy’s pants just far enough to get a glimpse at what he might’ve had hid in there, but it drove him crazy thinking he might be. And bloody hell, they were red. Not just any red. But the deepest of reds, the reds that came with being a Pendragon, the same color as their capes and Arthur’s bedsheets and a good many of his tunics. And now, that same red silk, in texture and much smaller than a man’s undergarments had any right to be—was supposed to be encasing his consort’s backside. Holding snug twin cheeks that might’ve been rounded enough to peek out of the bottom. Tight enough to where Merlin’s…private bits…could’ve possibly been tenting the fabric. 

Merlin would look good in red…

Arthur finding them on his bed a few days later had been both a godsend and a nightmare; he’d never have to question what Merlin was wearing underneath his pants again. And he didn’t blame Merlin one bit for the crudely written note left with the presents…the undergarments had been left shoved beneath his bed with the boots. Where they could haunt nobody else but the prince’s dreams. And the note. Well…it had Merlin’s words on it; it was a thing Merlin had touched. Might even smell like him if he breathed it in deeply…and had been promptly hidden in the bedside drawer he had situated sorely for all Merlin-related items. 

And speaking of Merlin…

Arthur’s sword froze in mid-swing towards the other knight, his eyes landing on a figure just out of reach across the field, his breath escaping him. Arthur would know exactly who that long stride belonged to. All of that floppy hair hanging into his eyes. The baggy clothes he knew most definitely were not concealing red silk beneath. All that pale skin…Arthur Pendragon never saw the other knight swinging his sword in a misguided attempt at protecting his own face from another hit. Not until the only thing he did see were the stars bursting beneath his eyelids after a solid hit landed against his temple.