Chapter 3:

"The question is not would you die for a friend, but do you have a friend worth dying for?" – Author Unknown


Somehow, however unlikely it may seem, there always remains a single place in an otherwise torturous existence which never ceases to bring comfort to a wounded soul. For Arthur, that place was the market of Camelot. The smell of the spices and the freshly baked bread; the laughter of the children; everything about the market invaded his senses and brought peace to his soul.

After an arduous day, Arthur often found himself retreating from the eyes of Camelot's nobility, shedding his mail for worn leather, and taking to the streets to mingle with the people that filled the market on a daily basis. The people he would one day come to rule.

On this particular day, Arthur found himself absentmindedly walking the market streets, stopping every so often to glance at some trinket that managed to catch his attention, but moving on, purchasing nothing and without so much as a word to the vendor. His thoughts, instead, were preoccupied with a certain manservant his father had assigned to aid him a year or so earlier.

It was true that Arthur often found himself exasperated by the sheer lack of competency displayed by Merlin, and yet, whenever his thoughts turned toward the boy, he felt his heart soften and his irritation abate.

It was Merlin's unwavering sense of morality and courage that had first brought the boy to Arthur's attention, as he boldly called the prince a "royal prat." Growing up, the prince had never had people in his life who he felt he could address as "friend." It was only after meeting Merlin, however, that he felt the doors to his once frozen heart beginning to thaw, and even open. Never before Merlin would the thought of risking his life for that of a mere servant have crossed his mind. And yet, more often than not, he found himself in those very predicaments.

Merlin was special.

And so it was that no matter how many times the boy managed to irritate him, Arthur continually found his inept ability to complete the simplest of tasks endearing, and his sense of justice inspiring. Merlin made him want to be a better prince, and even more so than that, a better man.

Of course, he'd never admit that to anyone, the least of which Merlin. He had a reputation to uphold after all.

Lost in his internal musings on Merlin, Arthur failed to notice the figure watching his movements from the shadows.

Watching.

Waiting.

"Soon, young prince, your life will be mine." The stranger smiled.


A/N: I know its short! Please, don't hurt me! *covers head and hides under Morgana's ridiculously long cloak* I know this doesn't have much to do with plot, but I was feeling pretty sentimental after watching "Le Mort d'Arthur," and I really wanted to set the groundwork for how Arthur views Merlin, 'cause it's actually pretty crucial. So, I suppose one could say it was plot? Yes? No? Maybe? Whatever. Anyway, I promise that next chapter will be from Morgana's POV, which means, drumroll please: PLOT DEVELOPMENT! Yay! In that case, I suppose I should stop rambling and get back to writing. *Sigh*, the unappreciated life of a fanfic writer. If you do appreciate, please, REVIEW! They're the substance that drives my fingers to hammer away at the keys! Thankies! Oh! Before I forget, this is supposed to be set before evil!Morgana, but after the death of Gwen's father.