Horse hooves trotting along atop the cobbled courtyard at the entrance of the castle in Camelot, alerts those nearest to the cavalcade that Queen Annis of Caerleon has indeed emerged through the gates that are the barrier between the citadel and the lower town. Flanked by her most trusted men, Arthur suspects she is accompanied by at least one hundred foot soldiers, as well as her entire court. From the bottom steps which precede the main entrance, with Guinevere on his right, and Merlin at his left, the three await there to greet the kingdom's newest guests.

Halting the procession just a hair from where the perceived foremost of Camelot's court are arranged, Annis allows herself to be aided in her descent from her own horse, while Arthur moves to her side.

"Welcome to Camelot, your Highness. I believe I speak for us all when I say that we are greatly pleased by your visit."

"Hello again, Arthur Pendragon. I take much satisfaction in witnessing with my own eyes that you have remained whole, even in the face of such adversity. I was deeply saddened to hear of your losses at Camlann, but they did not go unrewarded," she states, wrapping her matronly arms around him into a brief embrace.

"Thank you, Annis. I owe my men a few times over for that victory. Were it not for them, I could not have accomplished it on my own. Enough talk of war for now though, and let us adjourn to the Great Hall. I hear the kitchen staff has prepared a lovely feast for tonight."

"A warm meal sounds rather inviting, after that long trip. Lead the way, King Arthur," she responds gratefully, while wrapping her hands around his proffered arm.

Ascending the steps, Arthur escorts Annis into the castle, with the rest of their combined subjects at their back. Merlin walks directly behind, with Guinevere on his own left arm, stepping in time with the former pair just a foot in front. Sirs Leon, Gwaine, and Percival are next, guarding those before them, as others trail.

Once having arrived in the Hall to eat, Arthur seats Annis, while Merlin pulls out Gwen's own chair, before seating himself to her left. A slight eyebrow raise is all that Annis makes in regards to this strange arrangement, as she is well aware the affection which Arthur affords this particular servant, as are many others in Camelot and the surrounding kingdoms. While the kitchen workers begin placing food before those residing at the large table, Annis turns to survey the rest of the room. As is customary, Arthur opens the feast by formally greeting the castle's most recent visitors.

"Our friends from Caerleon have graciously taken the time to travel here so that we may partake in their company. As we feast tonight, let us be grateful for their presence, as well as their safe passage to our Kingdom. Now, we shall savor this delicious meal that our very own kitchen staff has dedicated so much of their workload to over the course of this day."

With the scullery servants sidling back to the kitchen to assemble the next course for delivery, those that have the privilege of tasting the fine food in front of them begin to do so. Over at the head of the table, Arthur glances over to Merlin and Gwen, each of whom are torpidly grabbing at the loads of fare plated for the taking. Annis, however, wastes no time on pretence as she reaches for a sizable portion of game bird, broiled to suit even the most finicky of eaters.

Tucking away a decent amount, the visiting Queen then turns to converse with Arthur, who had remained silent the majority of supper thus far. Aiming to change that, she opens with, "You have a fine kitchen staff indeed, my Lord. This spread has been well worth the wait. If the satisfaction on those of my own castle is to be the judge, I dare say each would agree with my assessment."

"Thank you. We are indeed quite fortunate, as they have proven their worth a multitude of times over."

"I'll say," Merlin pipes up, once he has swallowed his last piece of meat.

Until now, Merlin and Guinevere had remained all but silent as well, other than a few swift comments to each other or Arthur in soft undertones. Made aware of the lesser man's continued presence, Annis inclines her head in his direction.

"It's a pleasure to see you again Merlin. Have you been well?" Annis inquires, which elicits three immediate reactions from her dinner companions simultaneously.

Arthur's visage forms a pained expression, while the Queen of Camelot loftily glances out towards the other end of the room, and Merlin looks to his King, as if unsure how to respond. Gauging the sudden responses to her few words, Annis discerns there is much more to tell. A frustrated look from Merlin, presumably directed at Arthur, does not go unnoticed by her. However, it does little to sway the following words which tumble from the King's own lips.

"He just recovered from a nasty wound he received at Camlann, which he acquired in the midst of risking his life for me, again," Arthur informs, then reaching for his goblet, intent on swallowing a large amount of spirited drink.

"I see. Well done then Merlin. In a world filled with those so easily tempted into disloyalty to fulfill their own selfish desires, you are a rare one. A fact which I am certain that your King and Queen have never neglected to make you aware of. "

Over the years, the sorcerer in question had learned a vast amount of details about formality and the like, although his mannerisms were never a good indication of having done so. If it were any normal occasion, he would have made a crack about Arthur, teasing him regarding his prattish ways. However, the sombre tone that the conversation had descended into, meant that he had no true desire to do so. Instead, utilizing the diplomatic tact he had witnessed Arthur exude on many opportunities, he dutifully praises him instead.

"Their grace far exceeds that of the more common attitudes towards those of my status."

In truth, although Annis is a more lenient sort of noblewoman in her own right, never had she allowed a servant to sit through a meal with her. Those on par with she and Arthur had only ever done so in jest or show, up until now. However, being aware of Arthur's character, she is able to take Merlin at his word, regarding this. To anyone who has been privy to the manner in which he and the former treat each other, would know that Merlin could not be bribed to speak tales of his King's greatness, instead only relaying the truth.

"Be grateful to have fallen into such a circumstance. You struck gold in your placement here, just as the castle did when you were given in service to Arthur."

"Truer words have never been spoken," Gwen accedes to aloud, dabbing her napkin at her mouth daintily, with the aforementioned man grinning at her from her left. "Without Merlin," she continues, in a reverent tone that bespeaks the sincerity of her words, "our lives would all be vastly different, and not for the better, in the slightest."

"Here, here," Arthur intones, gulping down yet another large sip of wine from his thrice refilled goblet.

A warm smile etches itself into the elder queen's features at listening to the surety with which the young couple speaks. Sighing in contentment, she swivels her eyes to sway over the room, becoming certain that she is ready to retire for the evening in wherever her temporary chamber should be. A sentiment which many who appear more sluggish now than prior to eating the meal brought to them, seem to share. Before she is able to voice it above the sounds of scraping goblets and small talk, Arthur calls out, "Those who wish to rest would do well to follow members of our serving staff who are on hand outside this hall, waiting to assist every person to their bed chambers."

Turning to Annis, he drops his voice lower, informing her, "Guinevere has volunteered to escort you to your room. I have posted sentries outside of it, to ensure your protection throughout your stay. Should you need anything, my staff is at your disposal as you see fit."

"Your kindness is appreciated beyond measure. If you're willing now Guinevere, I would not turn down your offer."

Rising from her chair, Guinevere is on her feet, placing a kiss against her husband's cheek, and then Merlin's. Another eyebrow raise is all Annis affords to the gesture, before hot footing it after the Queen of Camelot.

With both women having vanished, Merlin and Arthur retire shortly after. Out of habit, the dark haired man follows the blond to his bedchamber, in a slight daze from the wine he had drank. Despite the unnecessary action, the latter allows it, simply out of his own desire to have the man's company. It feels to him as though it has been ages since either had a proper conversation, much to his chagrin.

Making for his wardrobe as Merlin sequesters the entrance behind them, the King commences the task of dressing down from the formal attire he had donned hours before. Thin, but firm fingers curtail him from proceeding further, longing ever present in the dark blue irises materializing in front of him.

"Allow me," Merlin breathes, the fruity tang of wine filtering into Arthur's nostrils.

Though he had progressed through the motions thousands of times over the course of seven or so odd years, his request in this moment lends itself to be of a more intimate nature, and foretells his desire for more than simply undressing his employer out of a sense of duty. Observing the flutter of Merlin's long eyelashes whilst lodging the suggestion, as well as the slight haze he seems to be functioning under, Arthur decides that should he allow him to do so, it would be ill advised to let it progress any further. Though it pains him to make such a decision, he is adamant that should anything ever occur between them, it would not be when Merlin is anything but sober.

"Go ahead," Arthur whispers, dropping his hands to his sides.

Nodding, a bit more outlandishly than he would if he were not a tad inebriated, the warlock unbottons and slides off copious amounts of clothing for the man. Unceremoniously chunking each garment once it has been shed, he persists through the task at hand. When it is complete, he steps back, as if to admire his work.

Insistent to see his previous decision through, despite his resolve slipping once the lanky man had his hands so near to him, Arthur moves to seat himself behind his desk. Frowning a bit, but resisting the urge to protest, Merlin takes his well worn place at one of the chairs in front of it. Eyeing the man with the tousled black hair and the easy grin on his face, a clear sign that he needs to be sent straight to bed, Arthur rolls his eyes.

"I think you're right, about Annis," Merlin states, breaking his silence.

"How so?"

"Her motives are solid, as is her faith in you. I do not think you will encounter much opposition from her, on any account. She holds you in high esteem," Merlin divulges, slightly slurring his words.

"How do you figure?"

"Well, when I was seated next to Gwen, despite being the guest of honor, she did nothing to object. She has at least two hundred people with her, and could have easily appealed for me to be removed in favor of seating one of her own noblemen. I am, after all, just a servant."

"Solid point. She did go so far as to converse with you, as if you were of the status to which your chair position lent."

"If she were to oppose your proposition, I would be shocked."

"Let us hope that your prediction holds true then, as your counsel has times before."

"Indeed," Merlin murmurs, gazing steadily at Arthur.

Only when Gwen startles the pair by opening the door to their bed chambers, do the two remove their eyes from each other.

"She's all set now," she informs, unperturbed at the scene she has entered.

"Wonderful," Arthur responds, sliding his regard up to her as she moves to retrieve a nightgown from their shared wardrobe.

"Have I interrupted something?" Gwen queries playfully, the remnants of their solace still in their eyes.

Clearing his throat, Merlin shakes his head, in conjunction with Arthur's voice rising above it, solidly declaring, "No."

Reluctantly, the sorcerer amongst them rises from his chair, intent on bidding them a good night. It had been a tiring day, his first sanctioned one out of his bed chamber for a decent allotment of time, even. As it draws to a late close, the weight of his presence is more than he is willing to give any longer.

"Not leaving on my account, are you?" Gwen probes, her new attire within her grasp.

"If I stall to leave at a later hour, you'll find me snoring in the hall by mid morning."

An elongated yawn further serves to confirm this cautionary statement, and eases the Queen's mind a bit more.

"There is a spare bed in the disused servant's quarters offset of this chamber, if you wish to occupy it for the night. I'd be much more at ease if you were to use it, rather than venture out on your own, where a number of calamities could befall you," Arthur asserts firmly.

Pondering the suggestion, Merlin acquiesces seconds later, aware that he would do well to take the offer.

"I'll send word to Gaius then, alerting him of your presence here. I imagine he would not be asleep yet, seeing as he is unaware of your current whereabouts," Arthur points out, ascending from his own chair to stride the length of the room, in search of a guard outside of it.

"Thank you Arthur," Merlin responds thickly, exhaustion creeping up on him briskly now.

Walking out from behind the dressing screen, Gwen affords him a look of fondness, whilst she drops her clothes onto the ever growing pile of laundry that Merlin would be expected to clean at some point in the near future. Scowling at this thought, he begins trudging in the direction of his temporary sleeping place.

"Sleep well, Merlin," the Queen calls out after him, then making for her own bed, ready to slumber off the weariness aching throughout her own body.

APMEGPAPMEGPAPMEGP

"Revoking the ban on magic?" Annis repeats furtively, astonished at his words.

"Yes, and the sooner I am able to do so, the better," Arthur replies over their shared midday meal.

"That is a tall order, and one your father would be appalled at. If I may ask, what has caused this sudden deviation in your beliefs?"

"It is not so much sudden, but rather long overdue. What he instilled in me over the course of his rule, as I have uncovered, is how I wish not to be. I will not lead by creating fear in the hearts of those I have been charged with looking after. True loyalty is given to those who are worthy. As it stands, I do not wholly accept that I deserve the fealty of so many, when it has taken me this long to realize that the upheaval which my father wrought upon Camelot was entirely unjustified."

"Wise words, my young King. Although I cannot predict what the rest of the Five Kingdoms will sanction at the news of your repeal, I assure you that Caerleon will follow suit. Perhaps, this alone will draw Morgana out of hiding?"

"It is possible. Our father's blindness for those who meant no harm by their use of magic, is what triggered the initial divide. Of course, should she materialize within Camelot, I will be hard pressed not to shackle her in the dungeon for the duration of her life."

"In doing so, you would need to be certain that you have the ability to keep her there. She would not be the first to escape the dungeons of Camelot, from what I am told," Annis points out gravely, taking another bite of her salad.

"You are not wrong there."

APMEGPAPMEGPAPMEGP

As the alliance between Annis and Arthur remains, each having levelled with the other earlier in the day, the pair determine it would be best after such tense conversation that they should take their knights and allow them a chance to stretch their legs. Together, the two assemble a group to traverse outdoors for a bit of fun in the unseasonably fair weather. Adept at the sword, both leaders take to the practice green with their soldiers for mock sparring matches.

Knights hailing from Caerleon and Camelot alike are adorned in armor, scattered across the practice field, moving as if in actual combat. Unlike most of the other warriors involved, Arthur bests every single one of his opponents. With perspiration pouring down his face, which is set in determination, he takes on one after another, only briefly glancing up between wins at Merlin or Gwen. Resting his bum atop a grassy knoll beside their practice green, the former cheers Arthur on safely from his spot, displaced far from the rest of the onlookers.

Occasionally, Merlin too glances over to Gwen, who has more of an eye for this sort of combat than even he, despite witnessing many a training session with Arthur. She, being the daughter of a blacksmith, always found it that much more intriguing as well. Catching him in the act the most recent time, she smiles back at him, not a line on her face betraying anything but adoration. Though the previous weeks had been a testament to their own bond, she had met with him again prior to the welcoming feast the day before, making it clear that she felt awful for what she had said before. Instead of harping upon it, the two found other avenues to trek down, such as unravelling that which bothers her most. Through tears and hand grasps, she had released her pain to Merlin, proving that their friendship once again had withstood intact through tough times. However, the nagging feeling of guilt that had manifested from the undercurrent of sadness in which Gwen had uttered the accusation previously, still has yet to leave his memory.

A heavy boot pressing down onto his hand, dissipates Merlin's thoughts, and prompts him to cry out in pain. The sound immediately permeates Arthur's concentration, allowing his most recent sparring partner to best him, and be the first of the day to claim a win against the King of Camelot. However, he cares little for that, as glances over to realize by the indignation and pain evident on Merlin's face, what had occurred. Charging through the other groups that are practicing, he maneuvers forward as if his body has been lit on fire, garnering him much attention.

Merlin, unaware that Arthur is advancing towards them, angrily spits at the unknown knight, conscious of what this could cause. The man, raring mad now, raises a hand to the younger man, who had jumped to his feet seconds before. However, before he can land a single blow against the gangly man's face, the blond King roughly grabs hold of his arm and twists it behind his backside, inflicting as much pain as possible.

"If you wish to keep each of your limbs attached to your body, I suggest you not fight me," Arthur whispers dangerously, having worked himself up into a blind fury.

"Sire, I was only teaching this urchin his place. While the rest of your servants are aiding us, your visitors, he has been seated here, lazing about-"

"Do you believe me unfit to notice whether or not a servant of my own castle were straying from their duties? This man that you determined to be capitalizing upon our distraction happens to be recovering from a life threatening injury, which he acquired saving my life, yet again. You are not even deserving of licking his own boots clean, servant or not. Now, if you wish to leave this kingdom with what little dignity you have brought with you, I expect to see you suited for a duel later this evening. Should you fail to attend, I will make quite certain that your Queen punishes you to the full extent of her authority. Am I understood?" Arthur demands, having now not only the attention of Merlin and the unnamed man within his grasp, but also every single man and woman within the vicinity.

"Aye, sire," the man gulps, yielding to the challenge.

"Good. Now get out of my sight," Arthur growls, releasing the man with a sharp shove, in favor of checking Merlin's hand.

"Thank you," Merlin whispers, the weight of a thousand eyes upon them.

"Think nothing of it. He should be grateful I've delayed his punishment. I will avenge you, that much you can be certain."
"Arthur," Merlin murmurs in a warning tone, "The last we need is you mucking up relations between Caerleon and Camelot over this. I can take care of myself, you know."

"I am aware, Merlin. However, in harming you he has slighted me as well, which I will permit neither of. Also, judging by the state of your hand, I do believe that he may have hurt you enough to warrant a trip to Gaius. Unless you are able to heal yourself without his skills."

"For your sake, I'd prefer to be hidden when I put my hand right."

"Then I'll help you to the armory and shut you in for as long as you deem necessary."

Nodding towards him, Merlin allows himself to be lead away from where they had previously been. As they walk, Gwaine and Percival share a grin with Leon, and Gwen smiles softly at the image, while Annis glares at the particular knight who had caused her such shame. She would like nothing more than to grant Arthur full permission to knock a bit of sense into him, despite Merlin's fear of what that would cause. Once the pair has left, Leon calls for the rest of the combatants to continue their drills, or take a break, should they like.

Meanwhile, the two other men lope to their destination amid easy silence. Once in the armory, Arthur leaves him to his own devices, so that he may be permitted to utilize his magic. A grunt of pain echoes in the air, reaching the King's ears seconds later, as the bones pop themselves back into place. Whispering, another quick spell, meant to release the throbbing pain still within it, Merlin finishes his work. Flexing his hand, satisfied at what he had rendered, the warlock makes to exit the room.

Outside, he encounters Arthur, surveying the area around him. When their eyes meet, the blond's then flick straight to his hand. Taking it into his own grasp carefully once more, he presses around to be sure that it has indeed been cured. Once he is satisfied, the King releases his hold on the appendage, sweeping his gaze up to the face of its owner.

"I should get back out there to make sure nothing else goes awry," he comments softly.

"Yeah. Wouldn't want you to miss out on all the fun on my account. While you're felling the rest of the knights around you, I think I'll go send a letter to my mother. She'll be glad to know I'll be there soon."

A strange look appears in Arthur's eyes, before they trail over to the path he must take to the practice field. Glancing back, he finds Merlin has yet to step away from the close proximity at which they stand. Reaching up, he musses the dark tendrils of his friend's hair, smiling at him.

"Try not to find yourself in any trouble while you're away."

If Merlin were not so lost in thought, he might have noticed the quake of the knob on Arthur's throat, or the sadness filling his eyes while he wrestles him into a brief hug. Clapping the thinner man across the length of his shoulders, the King turns to walk away, before he changes his mind.

In his wake, Merlin murmurs softly, "You as well."

APMEGPAPMEGPAPMEGP

A knock at Merlin's door much later, signals Gwen's arrival outside of his room. When he moves to open the door, unsure of who to expect, he is surprised to find it is the Queen.

"May I come in?" she requests, sheepishly.

"Of course," he replies, swinging the door shut behind her.

As she enters, Gwen spies his packing attempts, noting that he has all but finished. Arthur had mentioned that Merlin would be departing soon, which is why she could not wait any longer to do what she has set out. Inhaling a deep breath, she peers up to discover the tall man eyeing her suspiciously.

"You and I have been friends for quite some time. So long, in fact, that I remember the days when you first arrived, and begged for a myriad of disasters to befall Arthur so that you would not have to put up with him any longer, as you once so quaintly put."

"Gwen-"

"Merlin, please, just allow me to speak my mind all at once."

Throwing up his hands in submission, he waits for her to press on.

"At one time, I too, held the same views of him. He was a bully and a spoiled prat, as you have enlightened him of more moments than I can account for. While I may have voiced this to him at various instances, it is your influence and actions that are almost solely responsible for who he has transformed into. In that, you two share what he and I will never, for you have tempered his less than desirable tendencies in a way that I never could. I would be ignorant to think that he does not love me, because he has made it quite clear to me that he always will. However, as I am sure he is beginning to realize, I am not the only one who holds a place in his heart. I would be cold, as well as foolish, if I were to condone him concealing such strong feelings for another. If given the chance, it is my hope that you will not dare to do so, either."

Upon conclusion, she steps forward to pull him into a caring embrace.

Leaving the room straight after, the remaining individual stares off after her, even more on his mind at the present than beforehand.

APMEGPAPMEGPAPMEGP

Per Arthur's request, rather than taking the journey on foot, Merlin is saddled upon one of the royal stallions the next morning, and rationed more than enough food for one man to eat on a few days' expedition alone. Having been subjected to the King's wrath, the man whom Merlin had learned goes by the name of Geraint, bears the bruises of having done so the morning after. Carrying out the task of aiding the sorcerer as a servant would, prior to his departure, he completes his punishment for his transgression the previous day.

As Geraint works, being certain to check that each item is secured to Merlin or the horse between his legs, Arthur speaks to his friend above.

"With the weather in its current state, you should have no trouble arriving in Ealdor before last light tomorrow. I personally saw to it that you are equipped with enough food and water to last you through the next few days. If you should need, for any reason at all, do not hesitate to send for help. I will dispatch someone to you immediately-"

"Arthur, darling, this is not his first trip to visit his mother. He will be just fine," Gwen kindly reminds from her position on the steps of the front entrance.

"Er, right. We'll be seeing you, Merlin. Take care, and give Hunith our best," Arthur adds, awkwardly.

In an attempt to cover his embarrassment, he pats the horse's left shoulder, electing to then step back to join the rest of the lot who had formed to wish Merlin farewell.

"I've inspected every inch of the horse and rider, King Arthur. He is ready to egress," Geraint notifies, under the watchful eyes of all that care for the sorcerer.

Gwaine in particular, as well as Percival and Leon, had given the man hell since his abysmal treatment of Merlin the previous day. Stationed behind the others in the courtyard, their shared disdain for the fair haired man is evident in the looks of disgust they send his way while he speaks.

"Thank you Geraint. You are free to do as you please," Arthur dismisses, his good will in rare form this day.

Nodding, the shamed knight opts to disappear from the courtyard entirely, epitomizing on the free range he has now been granted once again. In a suspicious movement, a quick leg swings out to trip the man as he passes the few Camelot knights parallel to his path. However, once he has risen to his feet, it is unclear as to who had done it. Red-faced, he hastens to the ornate double doors, which lead into the castle. Gaius smirks in the direction of the knights humorously, from his spot beside Annis, while the others amidst them remain unawares of the true nature of what had just occurred.

"I'll see you all soon," Merlin states, sliding his gaze over his friends, memorizing the image.

With one last smile and wave to everyone, he beckons his horse to press forward, permitting it to take him out of their sights at last.