A/N: I don't own Merlin.

Arthur was just heading to the armory, searching for his useless manservant, when he heard a familiar voice. Wondering what Lancelot was doing in the armory at this hour, he paused just outside the door.

"Merlin, do you trust Arthur?" Lancelot asked. He sounded genuinely curious, as if the answer wasn't at all obvious.

But Arthur trusted Merlin with everything, Merlin was secretly the best friend he'd ever had, and so he expected Merlin to reply that of course he trusted Arthur. He was utterly shocked by Merlin's actual response. "Trust is a luxury I've never been able to afford," Merlin said in a voice so full of bitterness that Arthur scarcely recognized it.

What on earth is he talking about? Arthur wondered, now bewildered. He'd always thought Merlin was too innocent and trusting for his own good, but apparently he didn't know his manservant as well as he'd thought.

Lancelot, on the other hand, did not seem surprised. "How is it you're loyal enough to willingly give your life for Arthur, when you can't even trust him?" Lancelot pressed, as if Merlin's previous statement had been completely normal.

Arthur awaited the answer with baited breath; frankly, he wanted to know too. "It's not his fault," Merlin said, to Arthur's relief. "He's a good man and he's my best friend. Trust has nothing to do with it."

"How can you have friendship without trust?" Lancelot asked, sounding as confused as Arthur felt.

"I've never known any other way of life, Lancelot. Everyone I meet is a person who might one day turn on me. If I can't forgive their ignorance, and look past the possiblity—frankly, the probability—of betrayal, I'll never make any friends. I'd rather have friends I don't trust than no friends at all," Merlin finished, sounding weary.

"You must be so lonely," Lancelot said, so softly Arthur barely heard him.

"More than you can possibly imagine," Merlin replied, equally quietly.

A moment of silence passed before Lancelot spoke again. "You know you can trust me, right Merlin?"

"I know. But forgive me if I have difficulty sometimes. I've spent my entire life hiding, I'm not sure I know how to stop."

"Well, I'm here to help you figure it out." Lancelot's promise was followed by the sound of footsteps. Arthur quickly raced back to his chambers, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping.

Once he arrived, Arthur paced in his chambers, struggling to make sense of what he'd heard. Obviously, Merlin had massive trust issues. For some reason, he trusted Lancelot more than he did Arthur, and damn if that didn't hurt. Yet he also called Arthur his best friend—not Lancelot. And above it all, there was the fact that he said he was "hiding". Hiding what? Arthur had always thought Merlin was terrible with secrets, yet the more he thought about it, the more he came to realize that Merlin rarely actually talked about himself. And so he was forced to wonder...who is Merlin?

Arthur couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something, something that would explain the riddle that was Merlin and his surprisingly skillfully hidden trust issues. But he also felt certain that it would be useless to ask Merlin about it. If Merlin had difficulty opening up to Lancelot, whom he professed to (mostly) trust, then Arthur highly doubted Merlin would open up to a man whom he had explicitly stated that he did not trust—best friend or not. Arthur would have to content himself with doing whatever he could to show that he could be trusted, and that he would never betray Merlin.