I have... creative stiffling on the King Effect, and couldn't get these out of my head. It's a series of drabbles, as you probably already know. It follows my usual writing style, with a bit added in. Which means, angst, angst, dark!Merlin, a random chunk of not-quite-close-to-romance, and jealous!Lance-I'mafreakingstalkercreep-alot. All in all, enjoy, and I'll hopefully hunt down my muse again.

Merlin smiled as he walked down the hallway, dread heavy on his heart. Arthur was gone, he might not come back. He might die, and all for a girl. He opened the door into Arthur's room, thoughts heavy on his mind. He made the bed, and cleared the table, without a thought of using magic. He didn't have time to waste on wishes. Petty ones at least. Merlin left the room quickly, weighed down by his thoughts and the armor he carried. Little did he know that Arthur could see him, forced to watch Merlin's thoughts written in plain view.

Arthur was riding ahead. I rode slightly behind, as always. Do as a servant does. The things I would like to say. He is fighting with Giawne, again. He orders me to be a good servant. Do what I need to, do not talk. All because of his father. I comply. He disagrees with me. He treats me like a slave. He does not realize. But he will. Oh, soon. I can feel a smile grow on my face. No, he soon will fear me, and he will soon be a king of nothing. I shall have that crown yet.

Come on, Merlin. Just get to the door. Tell him what you think. I raised my hand to knock on Gwaine's door, the rain running down my fingers, onto my palm. The door opened as I laid my fist on the cold wood. Pulled in roughly, hands seeming to be on my arms, shoulders, and neck at the same time. I didn't try to stop him. I just breathed, and let the sensations flow into my hazed mind. I suppose it's not that bad to just be another notch on the bedpost, if he decides he wants to come back.

Now Giawne is giving Merlin the look. Why do you do it, Merlin? Everyone silently wonders. Why do you die inside for him? Going against your own people? Lie to him day after day? Let him trample you? He grounds you into the dust. I pity you, Merlin. I pity the cause you stand for. Ever since sister was injured, and since she still is on the brink of death, I wonder. I watch through a crystal. I can only wonder about him. Why didn't he tell me about his magic, teach me? Instead he abandons me, watches me struggle.

I tensed as Arthur approached, that look in his eye. I knew what was coming. It's hard not to. Maybe I could just duck behind this curtain, and around the corner….

"Merlin, what are you wearing?" The prat yells out. Damn it.

"My clothes."

"You need better ones, those are pitiful."

"Thanks."

"You need to dress better now that you're a court official."

"Why?"

"Because, you need to be popular with the others if you're to keep the position."

"Maybe I didn't want it in the beginning, Arthur!"

"You're going to love it, Merlin!" he called after my retreating form.

Gwen came into the great hall, her delicate face streaked with the grime of war. The war has ended now, and all that is left is recovery, however. I watched her, careful not to stare. I can't now, she loves Arthur. She cares for him more than she cares for me. I watch from the balcony as Gwen walks to Arthur, who's avoiding treatment inside an alcove. Arthur smiles, and forgets that he has wounded his shoulder. He stoops down, taking that delicate face in his calloused hand, and kisses her in relief. She's still alive, and so is he.