The next day, Arthur decided to take time out of daily kingly proceedings to see the arrival of the magical children of Camelot. He was astonished to find there were not many children there. No more than a dozen, if that. They were all dressed in the best clothes their peasant upbringing could afford. The children were seated along a long table, at the head of which stood Merlin, Godric, Rowena, and Helga. As soon as they noticed Arthur in the doorway, they rose primly and bowed. Arthur suspected their parents had trained them for this. He raised a hand, indicating they all sit back.

"Don't mind me," he said with his most charming smile. He turned to the youngest of the children. "I'm not really here." The two girls, no more than six or seven, giggled behind their palms. Arthur looked up to find Merlin with an approving smile. Something in Arthur's chest expanded a little.

Arthur watched quietly from his corner as the three delegates of the school of magic walked amongst their potential pupils asking questions and requesting demonstrations of their abilities. The oldest girl who looked to be around sixteen or seventeen was the last one to be approached by Dame Hufflepuff. She looked up shyly at the kind noblewoman, touched her right hand over her heart and closed her eyes. A beat later, in her place was a large black cat almost as big as a panther.

Arthur's hand immediately closed around the pommel of his sword. The last time such a cat had been within Camelot's walls, people had died. Helga did not seem alarmed, however, for she reached out a hand and petted the large feline.

"Fascinating," Rowena murmured, walking closer to the...girl? Cat?

Arthur turned to Merlin to ask whether it was safe to keep the beast – girl – so close to the younger children. Instead of Merlin's assuring face, what Arthur saw was an expressionless warlock gazing at the cat with a strange, wild look in his eyes. It was gone in the next moment when Godric turned to Merlin to ask something of the magical element that would allow such a transformation. Merlin smiled widely and said something that held little importance to Arthur. He was more concerned with the uncharacteristic flash of grief in Merlin's eyes. He wanted to ask Merlin about it, but knew better than to expect a truthful answer. Merlin may have told him a fair bit of the time before Arthur knew about Merlin's magic, but Arthur knew there were still some secrets they didn't speak about. He wanted to confront Merlin about it.

But the moment was gone, and bringing it up later would make things unnecessarily uncomfortable. They might not be master and servant anymore, might even be almost equals as King and (almighty-and-ridiculously-powerful) Sorcerer, and most certainly were friends. However... talking still did not come easily to either of them. Knowing he wasn't needed here, Arthur walked out of the room.

So if, when he stood by the door for a moment or two and saw Merlin laughing with his head thrown back looking right at home with the other sorcerers, Arthur's heart clenched a little at the merry image, then, he rationalized, it was no one's business but his own.

8=========8

Merlin jumped away from the bright flash of yellow just in time to throw a shield up at the last second. Rowena gave a tinkling laugh as she watched her spell dissipate at the force of Merlin's magic. They were on the tournament grounds, Merlin against Rowena and Godric. Helga sat watching them in the shade with Gwen and a few of the other knights. It was exhilarating to say the least. He wanted nothing more to stay out here and practice his magic with these wonderful magical beings. It was glorious to let his powers loose and not worry about enemy armies or murderous sorcerers.

He allowed Godric to get a small strike in before successfully distracting him and Rowena with a well aimed, albeit childish, tripping curse that sent Rowena toppling into Godric's path just as he was about to strike Merlin again, thus allowing Merlin to triumph over their duel. Both of them congratulated him amiably and went on to join Gwen, Helga, and the knights. It was only then that Merlin noticed Arthur had come to observe their friendly match sometime when he wasn't paying attention.

Merlin raised an eyebrow at his king as if to say, howdidIdo?He wasn't expecting a high compliment, or even one at all. Arthur just tended to act as though Merlin performing any task adequately, magic or otherwise, was an achievement in and of itself. He would shout to any willing listener – unless it was the enemy, of course – that Merlin was still the clumsy idiot who'd stumbled into Camelot all those years ago. At least somethings never changed, for which Merlin was very grateful.

Arthur rolled his eyes at Merlin's unspoken query, but he did nod just once and ever so slightly that Merlin doubted anyone but him had seen it.

A gong sounded in the distance, signaling that it was time to head on back to the castle to ready for supper. It would be held in the private dining hall for a more intimate setting.

Merlin followed the King and Queen at a leisurely pace, knowing that royalty's affinity for punctuality meant that the gong had sounded two hours before supper would actually be served. Merlin did not need two hours to get ready.

He smiled when Godric fell back to walk with him. The man was a little shorter than Merlin, perhaps closer to Gwaine's height, but he held himself in such a way that most would not have seen the difference. It was obvious Godric was born into nobility, and had an upbringing more similar to Arthur's than Merlin's own.

"I hope you've enjoyed your stay here thus far," Merlin remarked, one eye trained on Arthur and the other politely on his companion. Despite being surrounded by knights, Arthur was still likely to be targeted. It was always better to be safe rather than sorry when it came to their king.

"Most definitely," Godric assured him. "The children were marvelous, and I daresay even Salazar will find himself pleased at the few who have shown a favoritism to his variety of magic.

Merlin grinned, relieved that their trip had not been disappointing. "Well, I am glad they will have teachers as accomplished as you guiding them."

"Indeed." He seemed to want to say something more, but closed his mouth at the last moment.

"Is something the matter, Godric?" Merlin asked, surprised his new friend should hesitate to speak plainly. "I assure you, you need not fear offending courtly niceties with me. I don't particularly care for them."

Godric huffed a laugh. "Nothing, nothing, my friend. Only..." His voice trailed off, and Merlin followed his gaze to Arthur who had turned around to look at the pair of them. Godric went on, his voice lowered, "I get the feeling the King is not all that happy to have us here."

Merlin pursed his lips in annoyance. Clearly Arthur's uneasiness around Camelot's guests had not gone unnoticed. "He is just a tad..." Merlin wracked his brain for an apt adjective that would not upset Godric. "Wary," he finally settled on. "Just a little wary of anyone with gifts. A result of the late King Uther's upbringing."

Godric nodded understandingly. "I suppose I can sympathize. My father has always been distrusting of those who do not posses our talents. Our family is an old one, you see, much like your Dragon Lord heritage we can trace ours to before the religion of this one true God. Especially in the northern parts where the effect of Uther's purge was minimal, my father's rule distinguished between the magical folks and the plain folks. Growing up, I was taught to be careful around those who were not like me. It took me a long time before I realized that they are not much different from us. And that, sometimes, even parents with no magical blood can produce the most gifted children." He said the last part with a significant glance at Helga.

"Arthur will come around," Merlin assured Godric. "It will take some time, but he has a good heart."

Godric blinked once, twice before his face split in a grin that worried Merlin. "Indeed, he must, if it belongs to a man as good as you."

"I – what? No. He's not – we aren't – " But Godric was already gone up the steps and into the castle, leaving a dumbstruck Merlin in his wake.

Merlin decided to think no further on what Godric had insinuated at earlier today. His words would do very little to calm his already over active mind. He passed the time tidying around his rooms. They always became a frightful mess, and Arthur was always telling him to take on an apprentice or something of the sort, but Merlin refused. He had too many problems to be dealing with, let alone training some new boy or girl how to decipher the ordered chaos that was his tower.

There was a knock on the door. Merlin absently waved a hand at the mop and bucket, and the scurried on to their place in the closet. The rest of the books and vials of potions were still sorting themselves out when Arthur strode in, fully ready in his ceremonial clothes. It was a mark of how accustomed he had grown to Merlin's magic that he didn't even flinch at a chair leg scrubbing down the table.

"Are you...cleaning?"

Merlin was quite offended. "No need to sound so astonished. I have been known to clean once in a while."

Arthur fixed him with an incredulous stare.

"Oh, all right. About once in a few years, but so what? I'm this court's warlock and our guests might want to come up here for something, and I don't wish for them to come to a..." Merlin trailed off as he considered the proper wordage.

"Pigsty?" Arthur offered, with a smirk. Merlin glared at him, but it seemed to have no effect. "So you're cleaning because you want to – what? Impress your guests?"

"Perhaps, maybe."

"Is it Lord Gryffindor?"

"What?"

"Gryffindor. Is he the one you want to impress?"

Merlin frowned at Arthur's emphasis, confused. He turned around to glare one of his scrolls into rolling itself before hopping onto the shelf. "I suppose, yes."

He didn't think he imagined the harsh clack of Arthur's teeth. "I see. I'll see you at dinner then."

"Hmmm." Merlin debated adding another shelf into the wall.

It was only after the chamber door closed with a sharp snap did Merlin realize that Arthur never said why he had come all the way up for.

8======================================================8

Arthur tried not to glare too much anything and everything his gaze landed on, but mostly he just tried not to turn his head and glare at the pompous windbag snaring all of Merlin's attention. Honestly, the man was more chatty than Merlin, which, not he thought about it, could very well be the reason they got along so marvelously. Neither of them would stop nattering on about this magical beast or that particular spell and how useful such and such was for curing that one malady, don't you agree, Master Merlin?

'Twas bad enough Merlin had to be his ridiculously charming self in his special utterly, inept, brain damaged sort of way, but now Godric was just draping himself all over hi – Camelot's warlock, the hussy.

"Stop that. Lord Godric is not a hussy," Guinevere's amused voice spoke from next to him. Arthur hadn't been aware he had spoken out loud. He glanced around to make sure no one else had over heard him being uncharitable toward his guest.

When he was sure only Gwen had heard his slip on tongue, Arthur whispered, "Are you quite certain?"

"Yes, Arthur, I am." She sounded very exasperated, as if she were speaking to a five year old. To complete the insult, she just had to add, "And finish your vegetables."

Arthur scowled very fiercely at his peas.

As dinner progressed, he heard little snatches of conversation between his dinner guests around the round table. Next to him, Gwen and Dame Helga were discussing the children from this morning, while across from him Gwaine and Lancelot were locked in a ferocious debate over Mercian sword making versus Camelot's own. Gwaine favored the former, apparently.

"Man made weaponry is all well and good," Rowena said from her place between Godric and Lancelot. "But I must say I am partial to the goblin wrought silver myself."

A hush fell over the knights and king and queen at the mention of goblin made silver. Merlin, all knowing fool, acted as if such a thing was unsurprising. Especially considering the horrible incident with a goblin they all had a couple years before Uther's death.

"Goblin made...silver?" Arthur decided to ask what most of them were wondering.

Merlin chuckled knowingly, and explained, "Not the goblin we encountered. These are a different breed. More serious and highly intelligent creatures with unique gifts, metallurgy being just one of them. Goblin made objects are really quite precious."

Arthur gave him a baffled look, silently asking Merlin how the hell he knew that when he had very rarely – if ever – traveled since coming to Camelot. Merlin shrugged at Arthur and smiled. It was then that Godric, the smug bastard, pulled out a sword from God only knew where and placed it on the table between the ham and the venison.

Merlin reached out a reverent hand to stroke the pommel. "Is this – ?"

"Indeed."

The sword wasn't anything too special, Arthur couldn't help but notice. It was slender and silver encrusted with rubies, quite unlike his golden broadsword with ancient runes on both sides, but Gryffindor's was longer. So what if Godric's was made by some obscure order of gobins? Arthur's was created with the Great Dragon's breath. It was more legendary...or something. Merlin paid no more attention to Arthur's gaze, and bent his head to converse with Godric and Rowena about goblins and silver.

Arthur sat back in his chair and frowned, the combination of warm furs at his back and tangy wine making him drowsy and annoyed. He cut viciously into the boar he had had his knights hunt earlier that day and tried not to remember Merlin's happy face on the tournament field.


A/N: The second chapter! Hope you liked it as much as I liked writing it. Thank you for the lovely reviews from you guys. :)