"It didn't work," Morgana grumbles.
"Oh well, you tried your best," Gwen says consolingly. Morgana doesn't answer. Gwen sighs. "You haven't given up, have you?"
"Not even close," Morgana says, a sly smile lighting her face. "Those boys won't know what hit them…"
Two hours later, an extremely uncomfortable Gwen has caved in to pressure and is talking to Lancelot about Morgana's plan. He doesn't seem surprised to hear that Merlin and Arthur are in love – really, are they the only two who don't know? – and agrees to persuade the other knights to help…
"Merlin, have you polished my armour?"
"Almost," Merlin says guiltily.
Arthur rolls his eyes but doesn't comment. He glances over at Merlin, who is frantically scrubbing at his chainmail. Really, why the idiot couldn't have started sooner?
Merlin hisses as his finger gets scraped against the hard metal.
"What's wrong?" Arthur asks at once, crouching down.
"Nothing, just a bit of skin," he says, examining his finger.
"Really, Merlin, how can you not even know how to polish chainmail?" Arthur asks, taking it out of Merlin's hands.
"I'm not done yet."
"Leave it, Merlin. You've already injured yourself once, I don't want you getting hurt again."
Arthur bites his lip as the kind words slip out. He glances at Merlin, who looks surprised, but smiles happily. Arthur really doesn't know where the strange urge to be kind to Merlin comes from, and he quickly leaves before he snaps something he doesn't mean in his confusion.
Merlin follows, babbling cheerfully about nothing and dressing Arthur in his armour as usual. Arthur endures his servant's hands on him and manages to resist the temptation to grab those hands and start kissing them. Finally, he grabs his sword and strides out, eager to get to training.
The knights take turns being beaten up by Arthur, as usual. While waiting his turn, Gwaine comes over to talk to Merlin.
"So, Merlin, do you want to come to the tavern with me later?" he asks.
"No, Gwaine, not again," Merlin groans. "I was sick for two days after the last time!"
"Come on, Merlin, don't be a spoil sport!"
Merlin just shakes his head, leaving Gwaine to ponder how else to fulfil Lancelot's instructions. Finally, deciding that subtlety clearly isn't working, he waits until he's sure Arthur is looking his way before advancing on Merlin.
"What are you doing?" Merlin asks, backing away at the look in Gwaine's eyes.
Gwaine ignores him but presses Merlin up against an empty barrel, their faces very close. "What does it look like I'm doing, Merlin?" he murmurs. He brings his lips up to Merlin's, and the servant twists away, tripping over a pile of swords. Gwaine turns towards him in concern, but the next moment, he collapses.
Arthur runs towards them, having just thrown a shield at Gwaine's back. "What the hell do you think you're doing!" he yells. "Get away from him!" He leans down and gives a shaking Merlin a hand up. "Are you ok?" he demands.
"Fine," Merlin mutters. "Leave it, Arthur, it wasn't his fault – I just tripped over the swords, clumsy as usual…"
Arthur, however, isn't listening to him. He is glaring daggers at Gwaine. The knight looks appropriately abashed as he gets up. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for him to fall…"
"If I catch you so much as looking at him again, you'll spend the night in the dungeons, is that clear?" Arthur barks. "All of you!" He glares threateningly at the other knights.
Then he grabs Merlin's arm and stalks away while the knights exchange knowing looks behind his back.
"We should have Gaius look at you," Arthur says. "You could have hit your head…"
"I'm fine, Arthur, it's just a misunderstanding…"
"If anyone ever touches you against you will again, you are to come straight to me, do you understand?" Arthur growls.
"Yes, Arthur," Merlin says weakly. In truth, while he didn't think Gwaine deserved to have such a heavy shield thrown at him, he's glad Arthur got him out of that situation. His concern is really quite touching… Merlin just hopes he doesn't murder Gwaine.
Arthur does insist that Merlin go to Gaius, even giving him the rest of the day off. A couple of hours later, Gwaine limps in, muttering a string of curses, and Merlin thinks he catches Morgana's name.
"Took a hit during training," he explains to Gaius. "Ar – someone's shield came off their arm while they were fighting. It hit me in the back."
"Lie down," Gaius says, and Gwaine complies, wincing. Gaius diagnosis him with a broken rib and tells him he's to do no more training until it's healed.
"I'm sorry," Merlin says. "I didn't mean for you to get hurt."
"It's not your fault, Merlin," Gwaine says, clapping him on the back.
Merlin is going to fetch water from the lower town when the incident happens. A woman staggers up to the castle gates, a bottle in one hand, yelling at the top of her voice.
"I want to see the king, bring me to him, he needs to answer for what he's done!"
The guards start to usher her away as she yells abuse at them, but as bad luck would have it, Arthur happens to be passing by.
"You're a murderer!" she screeches. "You prey on the young and foolish and send them in for slaughter! Murderer!"
Merlin expects Arthur to brush it off as the woman is dragged away, but to his surprise, Arthur's face goes all pale and he hangs his head.
"Who is that woman?" Merlin asks the guard.
"She's the mother of one of Arthur's men. He was killed in battle – as you can see, she's not coping well."
Merlin doesn't wait for the man to continue, but hurries after Arthur. Arthur must have heard him following, but ignores him, slamming the door to his chambers. Of course, Merlin follows him inside.
"Go away, Merlin," Arthur says wearily.
"Arthur, it wasn't your fault," Merlin says sharply.
"You don't even know what happened."
"I know you blame yourself for everything, even when you had nothing to do with it."
"Well, I had something to do with it this time."
Merlin cautiously approaches, putting a tentative hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur doesn't acknowledge him, but doesn't shrug him off, either.
"Tell me what happened, then."
Arthur shakes his head, but Merlin just waits. Finally, Arthur begins to talk. "Benjamin was new to the guard – young, enthusiastic and inexperienced. We were going into hostile territory. I was planning only to take experienced men, but he begged to come. I knew I shouldn't allow it, but I did. He was killed by bandits. I tried to protect him, but it happened too fast… His mother is right – I did kill him."
"No, Arthur," Merlin says firmly. "You tried your best. It's not your fault."
"Tell that to his mother. Her son is still dead."
Arthur sounds so sad and broken, Merlin's own heart is breaking for him. He knows Arthur feels responsible for everything that happens to his men, and Merlin doesn't know how to explain to him that each and every one of them choose to serve him, that they all make their own choices, for which Arthur can't be held responsible.
Merlin slowly puts his arms around Arthur, hugging him from behind. He half expects Arthur to shove him off, but the king only closes his eyes, standing perfectly still. They stand like that for a long time before Arthur finally steps out of the embrace.
"You can leave, Merlin."
"No way, I'm not leaving you like this."
"Just go," Arthur says wearily. Merlin doesn't move. "Go!" Arthur yells, getting angry now. Merlin takes two deliberate steps to the table and sits down. Arthur glares at him and grabs a boot from the floor, throwing it at Merlin.
Merlin ducks and the boot sails over his head.
"Leave me alone!" Arthur yells, pushing Merlin, hard. The chair falls over and Merlin crashes to the floor. He simply gets up, rights the chair, and sits down again. "I'm not leaving you alone so that you can beat yourself up about something that wasn't your fault," he says calmly.
Arthur growls inarticulately and throws himself onto the bed, his face smashed into the pillows. Merlin can see his body shaking slightly.
After a few minutes, Merlin tentatively gets up and sits on the side of the bed. Arthur doesn't move when Merlin puts a hand on his arm. Acting on instinct, Merlin lies down next to Arthur, tugging him so that he is on his side. Arthur's back presses up against Merlin's chest as Merlin holds him while he cries.
"It's not your fault," he says, over and over again, stroking Arthur's hair. By the desperate way Arthur presses up against him, Merlin realises he's never had anyone to hold him when he cries, always expected to be strong, to show no emotion. Merlin just holds him tighter, his heart going out to the king. Arthur finally quiets and drifts into an uneasy sleep. Merlin gets up quietly to fetch the king's supper.
They don't make any mention of the incident all evening, slipping easily back into their normal friendly banter. It's not until Arthur's in bed for the night and Merlin has just blown out the candles when Arthur says quietly, "Merlin? Thank you."
"Anytime, Arthur," he says, slipping out of the door.
It is a couple of days later that Morgana announces that she wishes to go on a week-long hunt. Arthur obliges her, knowing it's easier than fighting – she'll get her way in the end, regardless. Besides, a nice long hunt seems like a good thing to him as well. Merlin grimaces, but packs their things in silence.
It is only after a day of riding that Morgana announces that she's forgotten her tent. "You can have mine," Arthur suggests chivalrously, as she knew he would.
"But Arthur, you can't sleep outside, you'll freeze," she protests.
"I'll be fine."
"No, Arthur, I wouldn't hear of it… unless Merlin is willing to share his tent with you?"
"Um, yes, of course," Merlin says.
"Perfect, it's settled then," Morgana says brightly. Arthur shoots her a glare before turning apprehensively towards Merlin. A whole night in one rather small tent with him? He seriously considers asking one of his men to tie his hands to the tent pole – it seems the only way he'll be able to keep them to himself – but realises that Merlin can hardly fail to notice that.
So it is with an air of sacrifice that he crawls into Merlin's tent that night. Merlin can't help being excited. Of course, he knows nothing can happen, and he knows how hard it will be to resist touching Arthur all night in such close proximity, but still, any excuse to be close to him is fine by Merlin.
Merlin silently hands Arthur his bedroll, as Morgana is using Arthur's, having conveniently forgotten to pack that, too.
"What will you sleep under?" Arthur asks.
"I'll be fine, it's not that cold."
"No way, Merlin. Take the bedroll."
To Arthur's surprise, Merlin doesn't argue, but takes it without complaint. It is only later that night when Arthur jerks awake from his usual nightmare that he realises he's feeling way too warm. Sure enough, Merlin's bedroll is spread over him, Merlin shivering over on the other side of the tent.
Arthur gets up to go spread the thing back over his stubborn servant when he sees Merlin is twitching and jerking, his face screwed up as though he's having a bad dream. Before he knows what he's doing, Arthur is wrapping his arms around Merlin's cold body, spreading the bedroll over both of them. Merlin calms slightly under his touch and is soon sleeping deeply.
Arthur wakes up first and makes sure to move away from Merlin before his body can overcome his mind. When Merlin wakes, he scowls at the bedroll draped over him, but makes no further comment. He looks so cute when he scowls. Arthur grabs the tent pole, trying to exercise some physical restraint, for every pore of his body is reaching towards Merlin, wanting to kiss the scowl right off his face.
"Good morning, you clotpole," Merlin says. "I hope you were warm enough last night."
"I told you, I don't want you to freeze," Arthur says, blushing. He hopes Merlin doesn't remember exactly what happened with their sleeping arrangements last night. Merlin doesn't seem to be listening. He is staring at Arthur, who touches his face self-consciously. Has he got food in his hair or something?
Merlin is walking closer, his face oddly flushed. He is standing very close to Arthur, their faces less than a foot apart. Arthur's own breathing is ragged and Merlin starts to lean in. Arthur's mind is screaming at him to stop, but his body has disconnected as it leans forward, too.
"Arthur, we should get going!" Percival says brightly, pulling the tent flap open.
Both Merlin and Arthur jump away from each other, embarrassed. Thankfully, Percival doesn't seem to have noticed anything. Arthur quickly goes out of the tent where there are plenty of witnesses.
Merlin sighs, knowing that he'd better get a grip on himself. It's all very well to fantasize about Arthur, but Arthur would probably fire him if Merlin tried to do anything more, and then how would Merlin protect him?
Arthur's already aware of Merlin's unfortunate infatuation, Merlin is sure of it. Merlin had better not do anything that will make Arthur decide the situation is too difficult for Merlin to continue being his servant…
Arthur, meanwhile, quickly loses himself among the other knights. You fool, Arthur, he berates himself. You need to keep better control of yourself – you're not Gwaine, don't you dare touch Merlin, he'll never trust you again.
Merlin follows him out of the tent, looking completely adorable.
Arthur rolls his eyes. This is going to be a long trip.
To be continued