Title: Capricorn

Summary: In which the Crown Prince perseveres to learn more about the lives of Camelot's servants, Uther hires a new Overseer and Merlin suffers for it, and a friendship is put on the line. Protective!Arthur, Whumped!Merlin.

Genre: Angsty and bromancy.

Authors Note: I tend to not write slash unless it's canon as I see it very hard to keep it IC, and if I ever do write it, it will be very light and most likely unrequited. (I didn't even know that Merthur existed until FF came along into my lovely life.) What you see here is a very deep friendship, but if you want to perceive it as slash, you can! As for my dear Vita Vitae readers: fear not! I'll update ASAP, I've been so busy. We're in my last quarter of school and I want to get straight A's! I had a C in math last quarter, and I'm sending in my application for a private school early this September or October, and I really want in. This fic takes place in Season Two, so Morgana is still good, if not somewhat vain and shallow.

Within a room that was practically impossible to reach if you were unauthorized in the thick stone walls of Camelot, an ashy blond haired young man, who was perhaps a year the senior of his companion, leaned back in a wooden chair, feet propped up on a table, golden crown being spun around a finger.

"You're going to fall, Arthur." Remarked his—though Arthur would never admit it—best friend, who was a tall, lanky young man with dark bangs that kept falling unceremoniously into his unnaturally bright cobalt eyes.

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur retorted, but let his chair fall back and resume it's natural position with all four legs on the ground.

"You always say that when I'm right." Merlin continued. "Prat."

Arthur's lips curved downwards, and to any outsider, it would have seemed as if he were displeased with the serving boy, but to someone like Gwen or anyone else who knew the boys well, it was quite obviously forced: an attempt to hide the amusement and friendship lingering behind a mask of formality that had started to break apart.

"Well, you," the young prince pointed at the warlock for emphasis, "can go polish my armor. You bleeding idiot."

Merlin, on the other hand, didn't even try to hide his feeling of friendship towards Arthur, though the latter never really noticed, and to Merlin their friendship was a fact plain as day. A grin graced his features and his stunning cerulean eyes lit up with mischievousness. "Did you know," he deadpanned. "That if you ask nicely, I might actually do it?"

Arthur's eyebrows quirked slightly. "Really?" he asked. "Let's try, shall we? Merlin, you bumbling fool, would you please polish my armor?"

The serving boy paused, as if in deep thought. "Nah." Merlin's head tilted to the side slightly. "Didn't work. Guess you'll have to polish your own armor today."

"Merlin!" Arthur threw the nearest projectile, a brass goblet with silver and black designs along the rim, at his servant. Merlin dodged, and his hair—which was as dark as a raven's plume and just as feathery—got mussed up. He took a brief moment to fix it, and laughed, and took off , leaving the door open as he did.

To the two boys, who (though they would deny it) were closer than brothers, it was just a moment of friendship and bonding.

To anyone new to Camelot, that was blasphemous. A servant disobeying his master? Insulting him openly? It was something worthy of severe punishment, something that had to be corrected immediately.

And that was exactly what was going through the mind of a greasy haired, former-assassin, who stood outside the young Prince's door. His muddish eyes were widened ever so slightly in surprise before he mastered his emotions and forced his face devoid of emotion except for the slight twisting of his lips.

Oh, this was a big problem. A very big problem. It would have to be corrected immediately.

So short. *facepalm* Lol, hopefully the chappies will get longer. Read and Review? Please?