Disclaimer: IDOM


Chapter 1: Of Prats and Farewells


"We all live in suspense from day to day; in other words, you are the hero of your own story."
-Mary McCarthy-

"Are you sure you won't be needing another blanket?" Gaius called. He was always worried for his wards health, even if he was supposed to be the most powerful warlock to live. It was quite ironic actually.

"Gaius, I'll be fine, really," Merlin replied. "Besides, if I get cold, I could just use magic to warm myself up. I've had plenty of practice from those stupid hunting trips Arthur decides to take in the middle of winter." Merlin's raven-colored head poked out of his doorway as he descended the stairs, tying his red neckerchief securely around his neck so it hung over his deep blue tunic.

Gaius just raised his eyebrow, wondering how on Earth his wayward ward still had a head on his shoulders if he was stupid enough to use magic for any reason whilst in the presence of the king.

"Well, I'm packing you some supplies to give to your mother." Gaius turned around, the edges of his red robe brushing the ground, kicking up the lazy dust that made its home on the floor as he went to collect various colored bottles from a shelf to put in another bag. He grabbed the robe he had given Merlin years ago when he had donned the guise of Dragoon the Great and started wrapping several kinda of potions and herbs within the folds to keep the glass safe. "She's probably run low on the stock I sent her some months past."

Merlin nodded, agreeing. His mother was the closest thing they had to town's physician, and being the niece of the famous Court Physician apparently meant you were to follow in his footsteps. It's not like either his niece or his great-nephew had had any say in the matter either, Gaius just gave lessons at random. It was a blessing and a curse at the same time. Merlin fondly remembered when he landed himself an in-depth lesson in anatomy, when he was trying to figure out how to treat Mordred when he was injured. He shivered at the remembrance of the child that was supposed to kill Arthur.

Something always seemed to happen: Percival getting shot in the leg after a bandit attack or Elyan getting his arm sliced trying to defend Leon, or even when Gwaine and Arthur got into a bar fight that happened to get the king of Camelot knocked out with a concussion. Yes, Gaius' lessons came in handy sometimes.

"You better send some polyshok too." Merlin said smartly, while he secured his blanket at the top of his pack, tightening the straps. It was an old bag, the one he had first arrived in Camelot with, and the one he always took when he went traveling. The leather was faded and cracked, but it had been a gift from his mother when he had first left for Camelot and he couldn't find the heart to get rid of it.

"Yes, alright," Gaius replied, turning around. "Here you better eat this fast if you want to eat before you leave."

Merlin smiled gratefully at him, taking the offered sandwich. "Thanks. I had better go wake up the prat before I leave, don't want Arthur waking up to George saying 'milord' a hundred and one times."

Everyone turned into a bootlicker around the king, and Arthur always hated bootlickers. If he had to be woken up by one, Merlin was glad he would be out of the castle because that meant a horrible day for everyone. Smiling, his thoughts turned to his mother and the village he grew up in.

It had been a few months since he'd seen her, and they hadn't been the best of circumstances. They'd been on the run from Arthur's uncle, Agravaine, and they hadn't had time to really talk. Now he was going away for a real visit, a two week visit. He planned on magical performances, random growths of flowers for his mother, and a peaceful, relaxing holiday for the both of them. His mother always loved his magic, though she warned him against using it, just as Gaius always was, so when Gwaine had offered to come with him, he'd turned down the offer. He wanted to be able to do his magic unrestricted, and if a Knight of Camelot, even a knight that was Merlin's best friend, was there, the warlock wouldn't be able to use his magic freely.

He turned the corner, munching on his cold sandwich. He spotted a torch on the wall that had a dying flame, and even though it was morning, Merlin wasn't about to create an excuse for him not to use his magic, so with a quick glance over his shoulder and a flash of his eyes, the dying light was rejuvenated, glowing brighter than ever while its golden light played across the white stone walls. Merlin smiled to himself as he turned yet another corner.

The servant walked past a group of guards that were patrolling the palace, each of them giving the manservant a curt nod as a way of a greeting. Merlin was well-liked throughout Camelot, by nobles and peasants alike. He had saved their princes' life more than once, and he had helped treat many of Camelot's citizens alongside Gaius. He gave them a smile before he disappeared behind another corner.

Finally, he came to a wooden door, and, opening it, Merlin was barraged with the sights and smells of Camelot's famous kitchens. Cooks and chefs bustled about the large room, carrying various pots and pans and bowls filled with things only they could identify. Different smells waved their way around the room, each teasing his nose with their pleasing odor. Smoke from the open fire weaved its way up through the window, disappearing through the wooden frame as if saying goodbye to those in the kitchen. He began to make his way over to the end of the kitchen, not an easy feat with the amount of fellow servants trying to do the same, but was stopped by the head cook.

"Merlin, you're late again, I hope you know that," Mary said, pressing a clean ladle against his neckerchief.

Mary was a short, plump woman, with long, dark brown hair that she always wore in a strict bun and a hairnet in the kitchen. She always gave Merlin a little tid-bit of whatever creation she was making, wanting to 'get some skin on his dainty bones,' she said. He just laughed, but always gratefully accepted her offering. It wasn't that Gaius or himself were bad cooks, in fact his mother loved his cooking, it was just that Mary's food was, well... more satisfying.

"I know, Mary, thanks for reminding me," Merlin answered, feigning sarcasm as a smile pulled at his full lips.

The woman smiled, tapping the ladle against his chest. "Well, before you leave you had better come down and say goodbye. I'll have provisions ready for a two week trip. And I'll pack a little extra for your mother."

Mary had met Hunith when his mother had been seeking Uther's help with Kanan, a man who had been bullying Ealdor into giving them their food, and again when Hunith had become sick in Merlin's attempt to save Arthur from the Questing Beast's' bite. It had been a brief visit both times, but the two had instantly become friends on the basis of caring for Merlin.

"Thanks, Mary, I'll be sure to come back. I'll have to bring back Arthur's tray anyway. You know, he's the king, and I don't even think he knows the way to the kitchens."

"Oh, I'm sure he does. After all he always came here for desert when he was a child. He just wants to give you more work," Mary joked back, turning around to go to the long, pale counter behind her.

"I'm sure."

She turned back round to face Merlin, carrying the king's breakfast: two eggs, sausages, cheese, and biscuits. It all smelled wonderful. The sandwich that Gaius had given him had been great, but it hadn't filled him up. Mary must have seen the wishful look of his face and she turned away again, only to come back with another plate that held the same contents. She set it on the tray next to the other.

"This one's for you, Merlin. I'm sure Sir Acron won't mind waiting on is breakfast a little longer," Mary said, smiling. Merlin just flashed her his signature smile and thanked her, a blush crawling up his neck. "Now, you better go before our king gets used to sleeping in."

"I think he already is," the servant scoffed, making his way to the servant's door and scooting past an approaching servant.

Leaving the hustle and bustle of the kitchens and stepping out into the quiet hallway was quite an astounding change. The noise was instantly reduced dramatically, one minute hearing shouts and clinking pans and then only your own footfalls, and it was darker than in the kitchens, where they always had the windows open, letting it the powerful sunlight where in the windowless hallways, only the candelabra's lite the way.

He headed towards the kings chambers, taking the uncrowded servants route. He could easily have taken the shorter, more used path, but Merlin liked the silence; it was calming. He turned a few corners, where banister after banister hung on the wall, Camelot's and her allies: reds and golds, blues and greens, yellows and blacks. And the number of banisters had only grown since Arthur's crowning.

He stepped through the final door that led to the king room to find Arthur lying on his bed, snoring soundly. His blond hair poked out from underneath an impressive heap of blankets, his arm hung off the side of the bed. The bed itself was a mess, pillows falling off the side, blankets strewn across Arthur's frame and draping off to tease the floor.

The servant walked over to the table, letting the dishes crash onto the table and making a very loud noise. Merlin glanced over at the king to see if it invoked any reaction. Nothing. Merlin even thought he heard Arthur snored even louder, if it was possible.

He grabbed a hot, greasy sausage as he walked over to the heavy maroon curtains that blocked out most of the light and threw them open, narrowing his eyes as bright sunlight hit his irises. The morning sun bathed the room, making everything brighter, and the warlock rapidly blinked his eyes until they adjusted. Again, Arthur didn't react, and with a flash of gold in his eyes, the heavy comforter blocking Arthur's face drew back to his waist knees, exposing his face to the bright sun.

"Come on, Arthur! I have places to be, things to pack, mothers to see!" Merlin cried. The king only groaned in response, mumbling something along the lines of 'breakfast,' and Merlin rolled his eyes, walking towards his friend and grabbing him under the arm and attempting to drag him out of bed.

"No, Merlin!" Arthur protested. His trousers caught the blankets that were bunched up by his knees, and so when Arthur fell on the floor with crash, the blankets came down with him. He opened his eyes to the golden light that was playing against his face, squinting before closing his eyes again. There, lying on the floor while Merlin started picking out a tunic for the king to wear, Arthur was very tempted to remain on the floor. He started listing the pros and cons of getting up.

Cons: sleeping on a cold floor, training the knights, listening with Gwaine's prattle, attending council meetings, signing papers, Merlin leaving.

And yes, he counted Merlin leaving a bad thing. Because one, Arthur wouldn't be able to drag him to council meetings and watch as Merlin tried not to fall asleep, which was very entertaining, so entertaining in fact, that it kept Arthur awake. And two, because he wouldn't get to see his best friend for two whole weeks. He counted Merlin as a very good friend, though he wouldn't have said that out loud when he first met him, but things change. People change. Arthur had changed, because of Merlin. He owed the man a lot, and could probably never even begin to repay the debt. And before he got even mushier, he started listing the pros of the day.

Pros: he wouldn't be sleeping on the floor; he could eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner ...that was all he could really come up with. Oh, and he'd get to see Guinevere. Yes, that's definitely a good thing. The queen was always a good reason to get up. With her dark brown, curly hair, her chocolate colored eyes, and her beautiful smile. Arthur smiled to himself on the floor, lost in his thoughts about his wife. She would be back from her walk soon.

Merlin, completely oblivious to the king's thoughts, came over with a fresh tunic. He had forgotten to take Arthur's dirty clothes to the laundry before he went to bed, so with a glance from his shinning gold colored eyes, the tunic was clean, and smelled nicer than ever. He walked over toward Arthur, grabbed him under the arms once more, and hoisted him up, the king still protesting being manhandled by his spindly servant.

"Ya' know, food would be the first thing you mention when you wake up," Merlin said, beginning their famous banter and handing the king his tunic.

"What are you saying?" Arthur pried, feigning annoyance as he dressed himself.

"Oh, you know."

The blond tried, successfully, to suppress his grin, something Merlin was failing at horribly. "I am not fat, Merlin," he spat back, walking behind his dressing stand.

"No, of course not, sire. It's just that I thought you might have had other things to inquire of besides the state of your food," Merlin said, pursing his lips as he threw a pair of trousers over the stand. Arthur grabbed them and changed out of his white sleeping trousers in favor of his brown pair.

He came out behind the screen and glanced at Merlin, eyes narrowed. There, Merlin handed the king his favorite brown belt, along with his sleeveless hunting jacket, both of which the king himself put on. "Merlin, I had just woken up; I have more things to worry about than the price of Gwaine's bar bill."

Merlin snorted, and Arthur finally let his own smile show as he looped his arm through the armhole on his jacket and walked towards the table. "Two servings now, hm, Merlin? Are you going around telling people I'm trying to put on weight?"

Merlin came up behind him, still chuckling, and grabbed one of the plates. Spinning around, he sat at the table on Arthur's right while the king sat at the head of the table. "No, sorry, prat, this plate's mine," Merlin said cheerfully. He grabbed for a piece of fruit and paused, thinking. "Well, actually it's Sir Acron's apparently."

"Hm, great." Arthur sat down in his chair and poured fresh water for himself and Merlin, Merlin nodding his thanks and he chewed on another sausage. "You do need to eat more, Merlin. You look like you've lost a few pounds."

"Sorry it I can't eat nearly as much as you, sire."

The blonde just laughed, taking a sip of his water.

Merlin finished his second breakfast quickly and got up to make the bed. After pulling the blankets and sheets up and straightening the pillows, he collected Arthur's dirty clothes, making a mental note to drop them off at the cleaners before he left. Arthur wouldn't be happy if he didn't have clean clothes, and Merlin didn't want Arthur terrorizing his temporary manservant while he was gone.

"When're you leaving, Merlin?" Arthur said, just finishing up with his plate.

"Um, I was thinking around mid-morning. Gaius wanted me to get some herbs before I left, replenish his stock and all, and I have to give Gwaine a headache remedy. Then I have to finish packing and get the horse ready," Merlin answered, listing off the things he had to do before he left on his journey. "That should give me time to make it about halfway there before nightfall."

"I suppose you can have the rest of the day off seeing as how you have so much other things to attend to."

Merlin's blue eyes narrowed, his eyebrows scrunched together, and he tilted his head in Arthur's direction, wondering what the king was getting out of this. "Um, thank you, sire?"

A light knock on the door interrupted their conversation as Gwen walked in, her blue dress brushing the floor. Her doe brown eyes smiled, and Arthur wiped a napkin across his mouth as he returned the smile. Merlin smirked, thinking of the trouble he went to trying to get those two together in the first place. Gwen sat down in the chair that Merlin had previously occupied, turning to greet her friend. "Good morning, Merlin."

She had been Merlin's first real friend when he had first come to Camelot. The two of them had always been close, but through the years, they're friendship had developed into something deeper than just a normal platonic friendship. Through all their hardships and trials, the two had become more like a brother and sister than just friends, and neither would have it any other way.

"I hope Arthur wasn't too difficult this morning," Gwen hummed, casting a teasing glance at her husband.

"Well, you know Arthur, the King of Pratland, Pratdonia. Ya' know, Gwen, the first thing he mumbled this morning was 'breakfast?'" Merlin replied as he gathered the used dishes.

Gwen laughed while Arthur rolled his eyes. "I am not fat, Merlin!"

"No, sire, I never said that!" Merlin replied, still grinning, his dimples immaculate. The warlock stacked the dished on each other before gathering them in his arms to carry back to the kitchens. "I'll be back."

He hurried his way to the kitchens, and, once there, he was met by Mary, who gave him his supplies as well as a goodbye hug. He bid his last farewell and left for Gaius chambers, where he put the food provisions with the other two bags. After that, went down to the market to buy the herbs Gaius had asked for. The physician hadn't been in his quarters, so he had just mentally recited the list his guardian had given him the night before.

Once he had gathered a generous supply of each, he headed once again back to the physician's chambers. Gaius was there this time, mixing up a headache remedy by the smell of it. Merlin put away the herbs, setting some out to dry while putting the rest in the stockroom.

"Here, you can give this to Gwaine," Gaius said, smirking at his ward.

Merlin took the vial, a sympathetic glint in his eye. "Thanks. I had better go give it to him before he wakes up. With everything he drank last night, I think he'll have one heck of a headache."

Gaius breathed out a laugh as he hustled about his quarters. Merlin walked out the door, turned right and headed to the knight's chambers. It was almost comical, really, thinking about it. Gwaine was the only one knighted in that old castle during Morgana's first reign that was truly noble born, and still he hadn't told anyone. He didn't want to be treated differently, and so Merlin, knowing what it was like to live with the constant threat of change, kept his secret.

He arrived at the bare wooden door and gave a light knock, not bothering to wait for an answer considering the state the knight was probably in. Gwaine was in the same position Merlin had left him in last night: splayed across the center of his bed with only his boots off.

The warlock walked over towards his friend, poking his cheek to try and get him up. "Gwaine?"

After a moment, Gwaine muttered, "M-'lin?"

"Yeah, Gwaine it's me," Merlin answered. Gently turning his friend over, the servant lifted his head little. "Open your mouth."

He did, and Merlin carefully poured the potion into his mouth until Gwaine flinched to an upright position "Merlin, that tastes horrible!" he choked, gagging.

Merlin scoffed, "Well don't get drunk and you wouldn't need it." Gwaine laughed before groaning at grabbing at his head, a sign that the potion hadn't set in yet. "I have to finish packing. You'd better get dressed. I'm leaving in a bit, and I don't want Arthur telling you off again for getting yourself drunk."

"Hm, sure, you know, I think the princess likes telling me off," the knight said in jest.

Merlin made his way towards the door, curling his fingers around the wood. "It's probably the most exciting part of his day."

Afterwards, he quickly went to the stabled and saddled his horse, leaving his light brown mare tied the post as he went to get his things. The servant now headed, for the hundredth time that day, back to the physician's quarters to get his supplies. Gaius was there, and the elderly man helped Merlin carry his bags to the courtyard, where everyone was waiting for him.

Elyan and Percival took his things as strapped them to his horse before he could even reject the offer. Merlin rolled his eyes and grinned at the two. Both of them came over once they were finished and gave him a pat on the arm, wishing him a safe journey. Leon came up and did the same, wishing him well. Gaius walked over and gave him a quick hug, reminding him about the supplies, before Gwen came up and gave Merlin a loose hug.

"See you soon, and tell your mother I send my love," she smiled.

"I will."

"Here, I have a little present for Hunith." Gwen picked up a bag that she had discarded on the floor and opened the leather cover. She grabbed the top of the deep green mound and smoothly pulled it out. The bag fell to the floor, revealing a simple, yet beautiful dress.

Merlin took it in. It was a deep green color, made of simple, smooth, yet thick fabric. Not too dressy, not too casual. It had a light green belt attached that had a dark, sparkling green jewel where the belt was tied together. There was a light green undershirt that attached, making it completely modest, as well as gave it mid-forearm sleeves.

"Oh, Gwen, she'll love it!" Merlin smiled broadly.

"I didn't want to go too showy, but I didn't want it to be too casual either, I've had plenty of time on my hands recently, and seeing as how you've been planning this trip for a while, I thought I'd made your mother something," Gwen rambled, embarrassed as Merlin continued to gape at her work. Merlin expressed his thanks again, and gave her another quick hug before tying the extra bag to his horse.

Arthur came up as he was doing that and slapped his shoulder to get his attention. "You be careful, alright? I don't want to have to go looking for you only to find you in another bog, okay?" Merlin snorted as his smile grew, and Arthur squeezed his shoulder as the memory was stirred in both their minds.

"Yeah, sure," Merlin laughed, "and you make sure Camelot's still standing when I get back, huh? And don't give your servant a hard time. You scared the last one half to death last time I went away."

"Tell Hunith I send my love as well."

"Sure."

The king squeezed his friend's shoulder once more before letting his hand fall and stepping back, giving Merlin room to mount his horse.

"Wait!" Someone called just as the servant put his foot in the stirrup.

Gwaine ran up to them, hair dripping wet from a bath, and pulled Merlin into a quick hug. "Tell your mother to visit, huh? I've never met her before, and she must have quite a sense of humor to have raised you!"

"I will, and, well, I think I more like drove her mad," Merlin grinned, climbing onto his horse and waving his last farewells. His horse galloped out the courtyard, its dark brown tail whipping as it went and onto a regularly used path out of Camelot.

As his calm mare entered the forest, its brown mane bouncing with its gait, Merlin didn't look back. He didn't sense the oncoming danger, and the warlock didn't realize that all those wishes for a safe, uneventful vacation would all be for naught.