Title: Contemplations
Summary: After Merlin, Arthur, Morgana, and Gwen return from Ealdor, the prince thinks over the events and the living puzzle that is his manservant.
Warnings: First time ever writing in this fandom. Potential OOCness ahead.
Rating: K
A/N: Alright, first things first, I'm new to the Merlin fandom, so here's to hoping I haven't butchered anything in my noob-knowledge (or lack thereof). This is something that's been niggling in the back of my mind since episode 1.10 ("The Moment of Truth"). I think the things that happened in Ealdor played a big part in developing Merlin and Arthur's friendship.
Beta:It'sOnlyForever
Word Count:336
Arthur rolled onto his side to stare out the window. He, Merlin, Morgana, and Gwen had returned from Ealdor earlier that day. The trip had put things into a new perspective for Arthur. That wasn't what was bothering him though- not entirely. What was truly bothering him was Merlin. He had assumed that the clumsy servant had had an easy life – simple, but easy. He had been wrong. Merlin's life had been hard and far from simple.
"It must have been hard."
"Like a rock."
"I meant growing up."
"Not really. I never knew any different."
How many others grew up like Merlin? Sleeping on the ground, beginning work as soon as physically able, and…
Arthur frowned. He didn't know how to phrase the tail end of that thought. Watching Merlin interact with the people of Ealdor had been interesting. As much as the village had been home for his manservant, he certainly didn't act like it. He avoided everyone but their small group – which included his mother, Hunith, and friend, Will. And Merlin's friend had been a sorcerer…a sorcerer who saved his, Arthur's, life at the cost of his own. Arthur's father sentenced every sorcerer to death, so why had one sacrificed himself for Arthur? Of course, Will had been Merlin's friend, and that alone pegged him as different, because even after all this time, there was still something about Merlin he couldn't figure out.
Something was different about his manservant, and not just the way he talked to Arthur. There was just…something. Merlin, he knew, was not a coward, because a coward would not willingly drink poison for someone they barely knew and didn't really even like, but he seemed afraid of something no one else could see.
Arthur sighed and rolled over for what must have been the hundredth time that night. He'd puzzle out his manservant later, now he needed sleep.
(Years later, Merlin ends up saving his life in a spectacular – if suicidal – display of magic, and suddenly, everything makes sense).