The walk back to Gaius' chamber was tense, but once inside, it reached a new level of anxiety. Merlin was sitting up on the cot, his right arm in a sling and his torso wrapped securely. He sat up straighter when his liege entered and diverted his gaze. He looked far too thin, too pale, too tired. Arthur stepped closer, and after a moment gathered the nerve to stand a few feet from him.
"Merlin," He started. The other didn't look up. "I know that it'll be difficult, but you should remember that you're safe now. No one will be angry if you sleep."
Now Merlin looked up. He paused a moment in thought. "I know."
"Then why don't you?"
He was struggling to find a way to say it, but it was already a struggle in the first place to speak - he still had this niggling feeling that he was going to be punished any moment for daring to speak, to make eye contact, to be resting. "I know it, but... I suppose it's just hard to believe?"
Arthur was confused. "I don't understand."
The other sat thinking, trying to say what he felt. "I know that it's over, but... I don't know. It was like that for so long, and it's hard to remember what it used to be. I know it's different now, but I don't believe it. Like instinct."
The king still looked confused. The servant tried to think of a specific example.
"Like with your knights. You train them every day, pushing them to their limits, so they're prepared for battle. They've practiced to the point that they know how to react to a blow without losing their footing, while still watching for a hit they can land. It's instinct for them after all that routine. Physical memory. It's like that."
The fog cleared from Arthur's understanding and it seemed to sink in. "Like training." It made sense, thinking about it. Whatever had come over him, whatever evil force had controlled his actions for whatever agenda, certainly seemed to have been training the servant in a way. Training him to be obedient. All those punishments, the supervision, the rules... oh, gods, all the way back at the start...
"Arthur, what's going on?" The jovial light in Merlin's eyes was still there, but now overshadowed by a grim look of startled confusion. "Stop."
The king yanked the servant from where he'd pinned him to the wall and shoved him to the ground. He landed on his hands and knees, then sat up.
"Don't move," Arthur ground out. Despite this, Merlin started to get up. But he stopped abruptly when he found a sword to his throat. "I said," Arthur placed his other hand on the servant's shoulder to push him back down to his knees, "don't. Move."
He began pacing around the kneeling man slowly, still holding his sword. Merlin warily watched him right back.
"You will no longer respond to me with anything but 'yes, sire' or 'no, sire', unless directed otherwise. Do you understand?"
"I don't know what kind of mead you've been-" Arthur was upon him, pulling his left arm up behind his back as far as it would go, holding him down with all his weight so the servant's chest was against his legs and he was folded. It would make it incredibly hard to breathe.
Merlin struggled, either from the pain in his arm or because his breaths were coming too shallow, but Arthur just twisted the arm further. "You have been allowed your petulance for far too long. Now you will be taught proper behavior. Or you will suffer greatly. Now, I asked you a question. Do you understand?"
The servant struggled more.
The king sighed. "I am reluctant to break your arm, since that would make it difficult for my orders to be carried out. But the first lesson's always the hardest." He pulled and twisted the arm further. Merlin yelled in pain as the tension grew and it felt like it was about to break.
"Okay, okay! STOP! Stop, stop, don't..."
Arthur stopped, knowing too that it was on the verge of snapping. "Do you understand?"
Merlin swallowed thickly. "Yes, sire."
The king smiled and released the servant. He stood back and watched the kneeling man gingerly pulled his arm forward and held it to his chest as his breaths came and went quickly.
"You will be on time. You will not make eye contact with your betters. You will address your betters by their title. You will follow commands without question and anticipate my every need. Do you understand?
"Yes, sire." Merlin looked utterly flummoxed.
"And never, ever call me by my name again. We are not friends. I am your lord and you are nothing but a lowly servant. You live to serve me. Call me anything but 'sire' or 'my lord' again, and I will cut out your tongue."
At a fierce glare, Merlin dipped his head. "Yes, sire."
When he tripped on the chain mail left on the floor, the king looked up in ire. Merlin hadn't dropped the platter of food, but it had been close. Arthur stormed over and knocked the plate from his hands before throwing a punch. The servant was on the ground when the next hit landed, and the next. It wasn't loud; Merlin had stopped crying out when hurt a while ago and he knew he deserved the blows. After the beating, Arthur ordered him to stand. Merlin shakily got to his feet and was handed the platter. Arthur placed a large ewer full of water on top. Merlin lifted his other arm to help support the tray, but Arthur pulled it back down.
"You will follow me on my rounds. If one drop of water spills, you will be punished. Understand?"
"Yes, sire," The servant responded, already concerned about the weight. And tripping would be a death wish.
Halfway through the king's walk through the castle, Merlin let out a small cry of panic as his muscles gave out and his arm dropped. The plate clattered across the stone corridor floor. The ewer rolled lazily in a growing puddle of water.
That time, Arthur backhanded him, took him to the cells, and locked him up. He was left in the dark without food or water for three days.
"I understand," Arthur said quietly.
There was a polite knock on the door and someone called, "Sire?"
"Proceed," The king called. The door opened and three servants entered carrying trays of food. Arthur stood from the trunk by the bed and gestured for the food to be placed there. Merlin stared at him in confusion, but Arthur just thanked the servants and gave them leave to depart. When they were gone, he gestured to the bed. "May I?"
Merlin hesitated, then moved over to make room. Arthur sat down and an awkward moment of tense silence passed.
"You know, I asked the kitchens to make all this food for me, but I'm not that hungry. A lapse of foresight on my part. Is there any way you could help me?"
Merlin was still staring.
Arthur shrugged and took up a fork, starting on the roasted ham. He poured himself a goblet of water - he wasn't planning on drinking wine or mead any time soon - and pushed a pair of utensils to Merlin's side of the ersatz table.
"You want me to eat?"
"Please do, or the cook will spit in my next meal for wasting food. She never liked me."
After a minute, Merlin picked up a fork with the hand that wasn't held to his chest by a sling. He hesitated then, but when Arthur just continued nonchalantly eating, he succumbed to that ever present ache in his gut and picked at the seasoned chunks of potato on a smaller plate. When he took the first bite, the flavor hit him. It was delicious. The immensity of his hunger made itself known as soon as he started, but he restrained himself and calmly took another bite. He finished half of it before he took a break. Arthur had stopped eating and was watching him. Before Merlin could get awkward and apologize or something, Arthur poured another goblet of water and placed it by him, then started on a fresh loaf of bread and some jam. Merlin drank some water, then meekly leaned forward to try some meat. The ham was glazed with something sweet, and Merlin loved it. But just two bites in and he was full. He set down the fork and took another sip of water before leaning back with a small grimace.
"Thank you, Merlin, I think we've made excellent progress on this meal. I am in your debt."
Arthur stood and Merlin moved to arrange and clear the plates, but the king waved him off. He walked to the door and leaned out, calling in the servants from earlier to take what was left over. Before he left, Arthur shot Merlin a little grin, like he thought he was so clever.
Merlin smiled.
