ONE WEEK LATER

It didn't take very long at all for the idea spoken aloud to take hold in Merlin's mind. Actually, he couldn't stop thinking about it, no matter how hard he tried. Every time he saw Arthur, the feelings he had always felt were mingled with nervousness. Arthur was definitely beginning to notice by this point and Merlin didn't really know what to do about it. How angry would Arthur be when he found out?

Then he realised that it was Morgana's fault in the first place that all this had happened, so maybe he ought to talk to her about it. Maybe if she admitted she had made the whole thing up, Merlin's confusion would end.

Merlin went to Arthur's chambers first, to bring him breakfast. It was ridiculous, the amount his feelings had escalated. Arthur was there in his bed clothes, hair going every which way, his morning scowl planted firmly on his face, and Merlin still thought he was somehow beautiful. He stared while Arthur ate.

"This looks better than usual," Arthur commented. Merlin only shrugged. He was too enthralled with staring to actually want to respond. "What is it with you lately? You're actually doing a good job on your chores, and you've shut up a bit."

Merlin really was only half listening. Arthur insulted him all the time. He was used to it by then. Actually, for him, the comment was probably a compliment. "If you wanted me to shut up all along, you should've just asked."

Arthur looked up from his food. "See, like that. You never let the things I say get to you."

Merlin decided to pay full attention to the conversation then. "They haven't gotten to me," Merlin assured him, "It's just that you could tell me to be a silent manservant, since you're the prince, only you don't." It was actually a decent point, Merlin realised after he said it. If Arthur was truly irritated with Merlin, why didn't he send him away? Because he's not actually irritated, was the only answer Merlin could come up with. Or, he thought a moment later, maybe it's the same as me. He irritates me too, but I care too much about him to toss him aside.

Arthur met eyes with Merlin. "I don't actually want you to stop talking, Merlin. I like having you around. Sometimes… well, sometimes I need someone to tell me when I'm being stupid. Which isn't often, of course."

"Sure it isn't," Merlin said.

Arthur smiled. "So are you going to tell me why you've been acting strangely?"

"I haven't been," Merlin said.

"Why don't you feel like you can talk to me?"

"Because you're a prat?" Merlin asked innocently. Arthur huffed.

"Oh, fine, don't tell me, but I'll figure it out."

"Course you will, sire," Merlin said.

"You can't keep secrets from me."

Merlin almost burst out laughing at that one. Try every day of his life! "No, you're far too smart for that," Merlin agreed.

"Good. Glad you know it. Now go wash my clothes. They're filthy."

Merlin smiled as he picked up the pile and went away from the room. Instead of washing the clothes immediately, however, he dumped them on his bed and went to see Morgana. He ran into Gwen on the way there.

"Morgana's in her chambers, right?" Merlin asked, maybe with a little irritation in his voice.

"No, actually, she's not," Gwen said. Then she looked at him knowingly. "I guess you heard about what she said about you."

Merlin gaped. "She told you too?"

"I was in the room when she was speaking to Arthur about it," she said, looking at the ground, the way she often did when she spoke about Arthur.

"Yes, I was just going to tell her not to make things up to scare Arthur is all."

She raised an eyebrow. "Morgana didn't go to him with the story. He asked her, she only answered with her observations," she said, slightly defensive. She was Morgana's maid, after all.

"He asked her?"

She looked up through her lashes and nodded, swallowing hard. Considering that Gwen and Arthur had some sort of affection going towards each other, Merlin suddenly thought maybe it was best that he didn't talk to her about it.

"I have chores to do, so I can't wait for Morgana," Merlin said, remembering to keep his voice nonchalant. "See you later," he said as warmly as he could, going down the hall.

"Merlin," she said.

He turned. "Yes?"

"It—it was me. He came to me."

Merlin came back a few steps. "Really? That changes things."

"Not really," she replied, "he just thinks I would know you better than Morgana, which is probably true."

"There's something you're not telling me."

Gwen looked uncomfortably at the walls. "Arthur will have me thrown out of Camelot if I tell a secret I was sworn not to tell."

"But he fancies you. I doubt that." He realised a moment too late that his voice sounded a little bitter.

Gwen's face was sad. "I wouldn't be so sure. He wouldn't do that for someone else. Arthur isn't fond of special treatment."

"He would be with someone he loves."

"Exactly. And who here is getting that kind of treatment, you or me?" she said, her voice sounding very unlike her in its iciness. She realised she had said too much and hurried away. Merlin couldn't even bring himself to call to her. What exactly was she saying, anyway?

Well, Merlin wasn't stupid, he knew what she was saying, but she must have been wrong.

That meeting hadn't gone at all how he had hoped. All it did was raise more questions, actually. Gwen, the woman that Merlin thought Arthur really cared for, was convinced that Arthur might have—

But he didn't. He couldn't even think it. He was starting to realise lately that once someone says an idea out loud, or even thinks about it too much, it's very hard to get out of their head.

But the question is, what was Merlin to do about it? He would say that he should ignore it, except it had been hard enough to ignore all week, let alone now, hearing what he just heard.

He couldn't talk to Arthur about it. No, no way.

He sighed. He really, really wished he had never asked Arthur to elaborate now. Honestly, this was all just confusing. He didn't want to have feelings for Arthur if all it meant was that he was going to be confused all the time.

Wait. But that was it. He just needed to not have feelings for Arthur. There had to be a spell for that.

He went into one of his sorcery books and looked through it for a long time, finally finding one that took you back in time. Easy. He just had to be careful to go back to the right time. Then he would… well, what would he do then? He would still have his memory. Even if he stopped Arthur from telling him, he still knew.

Suddenly, his mission changed. He realised that going back in time could give him at least a little clarity, which was worth something. Before he got rid of the feelings altogether, at least.

He recited the spell and—