AN: The usual historical/medical/I-do-not-own disclaimers apply. Also, I really liked the character of Morgana on the show... before she...yeah. Also, gen gen gen gen gen. Enjoy!


A few hours later Merlin hesitantly pokes his head into the prince's chambers. Nothing is visibly amiss, but Merlin can't shake the knowledge that things are so very, very wrong. Brushing his nervousness aside with a shake of his head, he makes his way to the table, gently setting down the tray of food before making his way over to the prince's bedside. Arthur is still in bed, and makes no motion to indicate that he has noticed his servant's entrance. Indeed, as Merlin looks closer, the prince appears to be genuinely asleep. Aside from the slight crease to his forehead, the prince does not seem to be overly distressed, so Merlin decides to leave him be for the moment, and steps back, intending to find some other work to do – laundry, there was always laundry – when he is stopped by shock.

The prince must have at some point kicked off his covers, as they lie in a tangled mess about his ankles. The warmth of a late spring day has seeped into the castle, so this Merlin does not question; it is the prince's side that has drawn his attention. Arthur's shirt has ridden up in his sleep, and there, against the pale skin of the boy's side, is an even lighter, long, curved line. Hardly daring to breathe, Merlin inches forward silently, and ghosts a finger over the exposed part of the line up to where it disappears beneath the prince's shirt. This is the scar Gaius mentioned. And now that he's seen it, Merlin finds himself incapable of understanding how he could possibly have missed it before. It isn't particularly thick or raised, which can be attributed to nothing more than Gaius's skill and the care which must have been taken between the wound's infliction and its healing, but it is horrific in its length, and Merlin shudders at the thought of what its staggering size implies.

Arthur shifts slightly in his sleep, letting out a soft moan and mumble, and Merlin pulls quickly back, walking backwards a few steps, his eyes still glued to the scar, before turning and hurrying back out of the room, the cooling meal forgotten on the table.


When Merlin returns home, Gaius is absent-mindedly stirring a potion. Merlin sits down at one of the benches and watches as his mentor works silently. The man is clearly lost in his thoughts, and Merlin is certain that the object of his musings is the same boy that is plaguing his own thoughts.

Arthur thinks that the only reason I show up in the morning is because I'm being paid to do so.

For a moment, Merlin wonders if he should feel hurt – that he should be upset that the prince hasn't recognized the friendship between them as Merlin has hoped. He realizes, though, that he isn't insulted so much as he is sad for Arthur. When he'd first met the prince, he'd seen him as arrogant, pompous, and self-absorbed. Now, though, he thinks that the prince might just be lonely… sad. He tries to imagine his life without friends, without anybody to really confide in. He tries to imagine a world where he is forced to keep everything bottled up and hidden away, where he is expected to fill the role of leader perfectly and without hesitation, where is forced to think that has nobody that he can trust but himself.

He wonders how Arthur has survived so long, the mere thought of such a world making him feel heavy with loneliness.


The following morning Merlin drags himself out of bed as usual, and, quickly getting dressed, makes his way to the kitchens where he picks up the meal already laid out for him. Sweet cakes, he notices, and when he looks up the cook is giving him an imploring look. News travels fast in the castle, and rumours regarding the well-being of the beloved prince travels all the faster. One guard will whisper something to another, or a servant will report something to everyone in the kitchens, and soon enough, sometimes, it seems, before whatever it is has even really happened, everybody knows about it. Merlin supposes that they might not know the details of what is going on, but he is certain that they know enough.

He gives a small smile of thanks to the cook, picks up the tray, and makes his way to Arthur's chambers. When he gets there, though, the bed is conspicuously empty, covers crumpled at the foot of the bed.

"Arthur?" He calls tentatively, even though he knows that if the prince were in the rooms, he'd surely have noticed by now. Just to be sure, he checks the room thoroughly. Perhaps Arthur has taken to some ridiculous hiding game. As expected, though, the room turns out to be empty, and Merlin feels panic stir in the pit of his stomach. Setting the tray down he runs back out into the hallway, picking a direction and asking everyone he passes if they have seen the prince. It isn't until he runs into Guinevere that he gets something of an answer.

"I think he left… I know one of the patrols left this morning, I saw them going, but I didn't see if Arthur was with them or not. Wasn't he not due to leave for another day or two?"

Merlin shakes his head. "No… no."

"Well… have you checked the armory? The training grounds? The hall?"

Feeling slightly foolish Merlin shakes his head, blushing slightly. "No… no I haven't. I… sorry, that was silly of me. Of course he'd be out at the training grounds. Or in the armory. Or in any number of places that aren't his chambers or the one hallway I've just come down."

Guinevere smiles at him, adjusts her grip on the set of freshly laundered clothes that she is trying to balance the breakfast tray for Morgana on top of, and nearly loses her grip on the whole set. Blushing, she gets a semi-stable grasp on her burden and makes to leave, but Merlin stops her with a word and picks up the tray.

"Arthur's fine. I'm sure of it. I can help you get these to Morgana." Gwen smiles sheepishly at him in thanks and the pair make their way toward the king's ward's chambers.

When they get there Gwen knocks on the door, and at the summons they enter. Morgana is already awake and dressed. Gwen sets the clothes down on the bed, gives a little curtsey and looks up at the lady.

"For the dinner tonight, my lady." Morgana smiles her thanks, but it doesn't reach her eyes, and Gwen frowns worriedly. "Lady Morgana, is something the matter?"

Morgana shakes her head and looks away, toward the window, for a moment, before turning back around to meet her maidservant's eyes. "I… Arthur left this morning."

"What?" Merlin blurts out. Gwen looks at him exasperatedly, but Morgana doesn't seem fazed.

"A report came in very late last night… almost morning, really, that bandits were attacking villages on the western border. The patrol left early. Arthur… he… I don't think he's been… well… lately. I'm just a little worried."

The way she stresses well makes Merlin wonder how much she knows – whether Arthur has perhaps confided in her, or whether he has figured out some things on her own. Somehow, he doesn't put Morgana completely above snooping, either, but he figures she is too clever for that. However the method, though, it is apparent that she knows something of what is going on with Arthur. How much, Merlin will never know.

"Did… did you have a nightmare, my lady?" Gwen puts a friendly hand on the other girl's shoulder, her eyes shining with worry, brows slightly furrowed.

Morgana shakes her head, looking away again. "No. No… I just… He always seems so tired, when I see him. And he hasn't seemed to have had much of an appetite lately. He's been looking thin. And he's Arthur, so he's always a little… cut-off, but lately I think he's been a little more distant than usual. I… well… it's happened before. I just can't help but be reminded of the days before… well."

Merlin thinks he knows what she might be talking about, Gaius having told him of it before, and from the look in Guinevere's eyes, he thinks that she might know some of it too. From what Gwen has told him of the Lady Morgana, Merlin thinks the two seem to be close, so he supposes that Morgana might have confided some of her worries in her maidservant. He wishes, for a moment, that Arthur would confide in him sometimes – that maybe he could help to lessen his dear friend's burden. He realizes that such wishing is pointless, though, and turns his thoughts back to the matter at hand.

"When did they leave this morning?" he asks softly.

"Before dawn. I couldn't sleep, and I heard the commotion in the courtyard, and I saw them leave. I saw Arthur leave. Uther… Uther must have known that he was ill yesterday, and he still made him go. Whenever I catch so much as a sniffle I am confined to my bed for days, and waited upon day and night. Arthur… Arthur is merely told to conduct himself as a proper knight should. Uther says… he says that Arthur is tougher, that Arthur can handle it. I know, though… I can see it in Arthur's eyes. He wants nothing more than for his father to…" She seems to remember then that she is not alone, and pulls herself out of her daze. "I'm … just worried about him. That's all." She stands up then, straightens her dress and looks Merlin and Gwen. "If you'll excuse me, I'm expected at court." She sweeps out of the room, then, shutting the door softly behind her and leaving two speechless servants in her wake.