Author's Note: I'm finally a University kid. :D
Check out chibikaty for the root of this whole series!
This was inspired from a weird place: Ice Age. When Diego tries to steal the baby away in the night but is threatened by his packmates instead: "Soto's getting tired of waiting." All I needed was a villain.

Prophecy

As unbearable being manservant to Prince Merlin could be at times, nothing compared to when Arthur had to manservant for other pretentious royal prats.

Arthur and Merlin had at least gotten the chance to break each other in so that what others considered abhorred or remarkably inappropriate behavior for the relationship between the two stations, was really just the norm for them – a rhythm that they had built together and coordinated with each other. And while sometimes the prince was just not in the mood to put up with Arthur's antics or Arthur was reminded of how fragile his situation was and got jumpy around Merlin, there were moments when the two could put aside their snarky interactions and either consider the possibility of being real friends or push one another far enough to nearly break their whole relationship to pieces.

Those moments were usually few and very far between, but they often occurred when the King was entertaining foreign dignitaries. Such as the present moment.

"The Kingdoms are growing tired of waiting, Princeling."

"And their patience will not be unrewarded, Valiant."

Arthur crept closer to the corridor's edge. He had been sent to fetch fresh bedclothes for the Mage Valiant, as his first ones had apparently not appealed to his colouring scheme. Mentally, Arthur both agreed and disagreed with the man – the Camelot blue did not appeal to the servant so much as a fierce red did (or a subtle yellow, in Valiant's case), but that didn't mean the magician could go around dismissing hospitality and practically spitting on the realm that was welcoming his company. It wasn't the first time Arthur had served Valiant but honestly, some of the demands the mage made were utterly ridiculous.

However, in the three visits Valiant had paid, Arthur had never heard the mage sound particularly nasty in conversation. Demanding, demeaning, and rather temperamental like a wild boar, yes; but never outright hostile. He could not dare afford it, being a guest in the castle where the strongest warlock in the land resided.

Or so Arthur had thought. This conversation that hissed in a seldom-used hall seemed to indicate otherwise.

"There are some who begin to doubt your claims," the mage accused, both acid and delight laced in his voice.

"Then they doubt the prophecies," Merlin said, sounding as though he were on edge and grinding his teeth, "making them as unwise as they are impatient."

"You think their doubt misplaced. But is it?"

"It is."

Valiant scoffed. "Those words come from the mouth of a coward."

"And they are said to the face of a snake."

A sudden thud, a collision between body and stone. And suddenly, Valiant's voice held only poison.

"You are a mockery of a magician, failed warlock. You think that you are above every other magic-user in the Five Kingdoms? Claiming you are the ever-revered Emrys!" Arthur nearly dropped the sheets in shock at the name.

All the children he had ever known were put to bed with tales of the prophecies that depicted the great magician Emrys and his deeds of uniting the kingdoms and ridding the land of suspicion and bloodshed, leaving peace and prosperity in his wake. Arthur in particular had clung tight to those stories because Emrys was something no one had ever seen before: he was a magician hero for the non-magicians.

Was it possible that Prince Merlin was the man he had dreamed of rescuing him from the unforgiving might of King Gaius?

"The legends speak of your great power but you cannot control the barest of spells! You have yet to show your face in a magician's tournament and instead stay hidden in your father's walls, cowering like a common dog while you are pampered by every available hand. All because Nimueh proclaimed a 'great destiny' at your birth!" Another sound of flesh beaten against stone. "You are a sham and soon, all the realms will know it. You have started a lie you cannot uphold. And when everyone sees what I see, I will be first in the charge to strike you down."

Merlin took a moment to breathe. Loud, through his mouth; as though his nose had been broken. Arthur was terrified for a moment that Merlin had lost consciousness (his body was probably physically weak enough to collapse after taking a few solid swings) but then he spoke. "You mean to bring a whole charge against me? While your faith in Nimueh's vision has died, many others remain strong. You will be left waiting many years before that faith dies."

Valiant snickered. "Faith? It is a misplaced and desperate hope. And I may not have to wait as long as you believe. Did you know there is rumour of another?"

"What?" Merlin said and Arthur thought.

"A boy. Young, orphaned, talented and raised by the Druids in a faraway forest. He is called Mordred and stories of his rapidly-growing power are spreading. There are some who believe he is Emrys and you are a hoax."

"They are wrong," Merlin insisted. But his statement had come a few moments too late to convey certainty. It was obvious that this news unsettled Merlin.

"We shall see, Princeling."

Neither Merlin nor Arthur moved as Valiant strode away. Arthur wasn't even sure he was breathing – too much had happened in too little time. But then Merlin moved, shoved his body away from the wall and took another moment to breathe heavily. Then some words were whispered and a crack of aligning bone was heard – a healing spell.

Why had Valiant said that Merlin couldn't control spells? Arthur had seen clear evidence of powerful, if not advanced, magical ability many times before. Had Valiant not been witness to these events? Why hadn't Merlin set him straight when faced with such a bold – and false – accusation?

"So it was you."

Arthur jumped and managed to jar his head lightly against the wall behind him. Prince Merlin stood in front of him, having just rounded the corner, his blue eyes cold and furious like ice on fire. Arthur scrambled for an explanation but Merlin only growled,

"If you ever eavesdrop on me again or speak a word of this to anyone, you will be turned into the gossiping maid you insist on impersonating."

Then, moving with a raging flourish that only he could manage, the prince began to storm past the still-startled Arthur, blood still drying on his royal face.

Later, Arthur would spit in the prince's food at the welcoming feast held that evening. After seeing Valiant sneakily charm Merlin's wine into snakes, Arthur would spit into his food too.

Author's Note: I liked fitting in Valiant, Mordred, and Nimueh. Actually I like refferencing any character and discovering a place for them in this world. It's fun. :) Nimueh isn't evil here, just really old and a little unaccredited cuz she's crazy. Mordred is just a boy, so I can't say whether he's a bad guy or a good guy who happenes to have incredible talent. Valiant's still bad news, still a noble, and still has an affinity for snakes.