Chapter 2 [West Wing—Twenty Minutes Later]

Merlin gently tugged the levitating box of decorations up the granite staircase. Dread dogged each step. His eyes constantly scanned every window and each crevice for potential pitfalls and interlopers. He kept a hand on his burden lest that go spiraling back down the passage in a sparkling mess.

His heart beat so loudly. His footsteps echoed in the empty corridors to his ears.

Five steps…three steps…and that's it! He peeked around the corner and checked the dimly lit hallway. Finding the coast clear, he advanced seven more steps. Then he let his eyes glow and motioned with his hand.

In response, the box bobbed and floated off of the staircase toward him. It cut through the din at a leisurely pace before he stopped it a foot away.

"At least I'm here." He inspected the corridor. Other than the flickering torches every fifteen feet or so, the white limestone and granite held no decoration, sculpture or flowering pots of any kind. It seemed so…so…bland.

"Merlin, this is a castle not some boudoir. Stop being such a girl already!" Arthur had lectured him a month earlier when he'd broached the subject.

"This really is going to take me all night," he mused with a critical eye.

"Unless maybe you have some help perhaps?" a familiar feminine voice offered from the shadows.

He froze. His ears perked to the welcome sound. His heart began beating faster. The butterflies banged faster and faster against his stomach's walls. His head went numb.

Accordingly the box fell to the granite floor. It smashed on contact spreading its contents in a sparkling impact circle.

He rolled his eyes. Embarrassment painted his cheeks a crimson hue. "Terrific."

"I'm sorry, Merlin. I didn't mean to make you drop it," Mithian apologized.

"I'm sorry, Princess. I…I wasn't expecting anyone up here," he noted. His parched mouth strained to get those words out.

"Obviously since you used your magic to get that up here." She giggled in spite of herself. "Forgive me but I wish I could have the court painter record this picture for posterity. Someday, Merlin, you're going to be a great Warlock. The blackmail would be priceless."

"You would," he retorted even if he knew she'd do exactly the opposite.

Her eyes sparkled reflecting off of the flickering torchlight. "A Princess has to take what she can in these times." Her lips brushed his cheek affectionately. "Don't worry. I instructed the guards to be positioned around the wagon at the citadel's entrance."

"The wagon?" he inquired.

"Yes. My father donated a large centerpiece for the palace celebration. I requested an extra special decorator for the job. Somehow Queen Guinevere was more than willing to assign you as my personal valet during my stay here in Camelot." She smirked triumphantly. "Somehow I didn't think you'd mind."

"Me? Mind? Now why ever would I mind that? Besides the fact that…now I have two royals bossing me around?" he teased before getting an eyebrow from her to rival Gaius' best effort.

"At least this one has your best interests at heart, Merlin." She brushed the remaining tinsel and glitter off of his shirt and trousers. "Father gave me permission to come a day early. I couldn't wait."

He squeezed her hands in his. He felt his heart racing. "You couldn't wait? I…." His nerves, if it was possible, seemed to batter him harder than before.

"No, Merlin, I couldn't wait to be attended to by my special servant," she informed him. She planted her lips on his allowing Amor to send her energy into him. For several heartbeats, she kept it up before breaking off the contact.

The term 'special servant' sent waves of giddiness crashing across his inner shores. He staggered back from her intoxicated by her kisses.

Her eyes went wide remembering the spilled items. "Merlin, watch…."

He stepped on the tinsel. His foot slipped and lost their grip on the stone below. He went up in the air and hit the floor. "Great! Can I do anything right?" He grimaced from the impact.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Oh yeah. Never better," he retorted with a straight face. He got up slowly while rubbing his hip.

"You might want to have Gaius look at that," she suggested.

"Yeah and get another lecture about class differences? No thanks." He recalled his mentor's last lecture after catching Mithian and him together in the great hall. "Merlin, she is a Princess. You are a servant and a peasant. You can't be together!"

"Do you think I care? Merlin, it's all right," she assured him.

"But if Arthur…" he started.

"Arthur's a prat. He can fixate on his Queen and break the rules that way. Still goddess help him if someone else wants to do the same or use magic," she groused. "Honestly! If it wasn't for your sense of duty…."

"Princess, you…."

"Merlin, remember? We are in private."

He nodded remembering her earlier request to him on her Samhain visit. Making the adjustment, he remembered the more informal address, "Mithian, I want to be with you. I know I've met the criteria."

"So does Queen Guinevere. Why do you think she's arranged this?" She grinned at him. "And why do you think my father allows me these visits?"

"Your father?" His eyes went wide.

"Certainly you don't think he wasn't going to get suspicious? Merlin, please! My father knows. Under most circumstances, he'd never approve. Still there is the matter of you saving our lives at the tomb. Then…oh…maybe there's that incident where you took the head wound on my behalf. He appreciated how you treated the wounded after Odin's occupation. I may have told him a few other stories as well."

"Does he know about…?" He stared hoping she hadn't spilled the beans on the Secret.

"No. You know I wouldn't betray you like that. Hold still." She slid her hand across his forehead to straighten the mussed hair there. Then she straightened his neckerchief. "There! Now you might pass muster."

"Hope so. Maybe you can help me get these streamers up? We can get your wagon unloaded when we're done," he suggested.

"That works," she relented. "You see? You do have a Prince lurking under that servant exterior. Have faith." She rubbed his shoulder before picking up an end of the tinsel strand. "Help me?"

"Sure." Despite his less than graceful few minutes, he didn't care. He sighed with contentment as he picked up another strand of tinsel. "So...umm?"

She pulled her end over a torch support and pressed on toward the next one. "Could that be a question?"

"Yes." He yanked his end through a couple of torch supports in frustration. "Mithian, King Rodor knows about us. How can he be all right with a servant being…well you know?"

She arched the eyebrow. "Merlin, everyone knows you're a servant because of your duty to Camelot and service to Arthur and Gaius. Some object based on the apparent differences. Arthur depends on you. At some point though, while I would never expect you to stop being his friend and ally, I trust the Queen to convince him to do the right thing."

"I still have to guide him. He needs me though to become the Once and Future King," he noted while securing the strand's end to a torch halfway down the corridor.

"You would be in Nemeth not in Rome or Byzantium. At some point, you need to trust in Queen Guinevere and the knights to do their share. There are those of us who need you as well," she pointed out while affixing her tinsel's end to his. As she did so, she let her fingers brush across his. "Albion is more than one man."

He bent low. His lips whispered their love notes across her knuckles. "Or maybe one special woman perhaps?"

She giggled. Her cheeks blushed with warmth over his tone and words. "Your presence makes any day special, my Warlock. Never forget that. Now just maybe we might get this done?"

"Oh?"

She snorted. "You do have other guests, I believe? The hall needs to be completely decorated."

He shrugged. "Sure." He looked around to make sure the coast was clear. Then he grabbed the remaining tinsel strands. He commanded, "Snàthainn Tinsel!" His eyes glowed.

On cue, the tinsel strands slithered up sections of the wall. They yanked themselves through the torch supports running along the length of stonework before their ends lay touching on four of the remaining ironwork.

"You do have potential as a decorator, Merlin," she cracked good-naturedly. She secured the loose ends in that spot. Then she repeated that for the strand's other end. "Keep up your end already."

"Yak, yak, yak….So pushy."

"What was that?" she queried.

"Oh nothing."

She coughed. "Well we do want to keep pace. Now don't we?"

He shook his head. For once, let Arthur deal with George. I don't care! He inspected each of the door decorations. He could see that the pine boughs still remained fresh. In addition, the holly berries were intact.

"And an artist as well! My! My! You are creative!" she praised while letting her eyes sparkle into his. She admired the intricate weavings with awe and wonder. "You do impress, Merlin." She proceeded down the hall. At each door, she hung a decoration with due care and diligence. Then she walked to the next point, the one after that and so on.

"Make sure they're straight. I don't want Arthur assigning me more chamber pots," he pointed out while collecting the box's broken fragments and sticking them in the corner for the time being.

"He would. Somehow though I think the Queen and I could handle him." She secured the last door decoration. "That does look nice. Still…."

"It could use something else," he agreed. His eyes glowed. "Flora!"

Suddenly white and red flowers sprung up along each torch support's base.

She nodded in appreciation. "That gives this passage a sprucing up. Now come. The next step awaits us!" She headed into her chamber before coming back out again in her heavy brown riding cloak. "Follow me!"

What does King Rodor have waiting now? He hustled down the stairs in his Princess' wake both dreading and anticipating what she'd have in mind next.