CHAPTER 4 IS FINALLY UP!
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Ch.4 Visitors
Merlin lay awake on his bed that night. The light breeze that filled his room made him sigh contentedly; his room had felt suffocating, and he welcomed the stream of air that swathed him. The spur of the moment feeling had him wishing, consciously dreaming. Perhaps one day he would be able to show his capabilities.
No he thought, even when he allowed happiness to wash through him did he know that his wish would most likely never be granted.
He didn't resent it. Or rather he made himself believe he didn't so. He tried imagining what it would be like if everyone knew about his magic, of how much he would be able to help people. Then a thought crossed his mind. It was Gaius. The admiration he felt towards him was much like that of a son-father admiration. Not that he knew what it was like to have a father, but he thought that if it was anything close to what he felt for the old man, it was good enough for him. The boy considered Gaius' ways of helping people, none of which involved magic. Another thought ran through his head.
Merlin had to admit that it wasn't only for the sake of helping people that he wished for being able to openly use magic because he very well could without it. It wasn't for pride or glory either. He was confused about it. Confused because he didn't know the real purpose of his 'talent' and sure, he could trust the dragon to an extent, but he felt there was something else. Perhaps to simply be able to show whom he really was. Lying was something he would have to get accustomed to, even if he dreaded what possible outcomes might result by that.
At that moment, the pout his lips formed exaggeratedly showed his disappointment. He was glad there were no witnesses. No need for anyone to laugh at him for his unconscious and expressive show of emotion.
For some reason, the night had made Merlin nostalgic, he suddenly yearend for the comfort of his home back in Ealdor. How wonderful would it be to be able to visit his mother, his home. Surely the small crops would be barren, showcasing the small village's greenery without obtrusion. It was this time of the year, when the few grains and vegetables were gathered and before winter would hit, that Merlin loved the image of his town the most. He found it perfect the way traces of brown began to slowly color through the leaves and grass and, when the fall finally bled out the green, brown and reddish dry settings remained instead, making him feel more home than ever.
He smiled at the memories, at the carefree state of his life just a couple of weeks back. Merlin could not believe he once felt that it was a dull life to live. He remembered the light breeze that would overwhelm him when he sat atop the hill near his small house, making him feel the world was small under his eyes. Of course, he know knew better. The transfixed state of his mind at the very moment ironically reminded him that it was not an easy life. He could dream all he wanted but if he wished to be a part of something more, and Merlin very much wished that, he would need to learn to do his part well. Whatever his part might be. He supposed he could start by figuring that out.
And then Arthur crossed his mind. Not because of any interest in particular, but because since the day he saved his life for the first time, the prince had become Merlin's point of focus. Something the boy was not entirely sure how he felt about, considering the prince's peculiarities. Merlin tried not to think about the series of events that had occurred just a few hours ago, and the more he tried to ignore them, the more pronouncing these thoughts became. The boy supposed he would have to think about it sooner or later, and he couldn't sleep either.
He mostly wondered about Arthur's behavior, part of which exasperated him. The warlock could care less about the fact that Arthur had taken credit for his work. Actually, he found it quite funny since he had used magic to help him clean the infamous armor. Had Uther known that –well, he assumed since Arthur had taken the credit, the king would surely not order for his own son's death, would he? And then there was that other part of the prince, the way in which he had become overly tense at the conversation with his father. The curious way in which Arthur had stared at him, and then avoiding his gaze to solely focus on what appeared to deceive his father. Merlin knew what he was trying to do, the prince very much wanted to win the tournament, it was practically the topic of conversation -it all revolved around it, the prince mentioned about it before the king had entered the room and if not directly, Merlin could perceive that he did.
It didn't matter to him of course, and he was not concerned, but something about their exchange intrigued Merlin. Why would Arthur try to deceive his father about something as simple as the visit of Lady Sophia to the extent of performing poorly on the tournament? It had seemed that Arthur was trying to not compromise with the Lady, and that was before the king had or could make any requests about it. Perhaps Arthur didn't care about the Lady Sophia in that way? Childhood friendships were completely pure, and perchance he wished not to taint it by a complicated and forced relationship.
Maybe the prince's heart and affection already belonged to someone else?
What do I care? Merlin reprimanded himself for even thinking about it. It wasn't any of his business and what is more, he didn't give a damn about it either. The prince was selfish and arrogant, and he pitied any girl that would become involved with Arthur in that way.
The sudden change of mood made him restless for the rest of the night. He fumbled in his bed, too tired and unable to sleep. It was until the late hours of the night, right before morning hit, that he swept into an unpleasant sleep.
"Merlin," the prince called at his manservant on the morning his guests would arrive, "What are you doing under there? I told you to keep the visible areas of my chambers spotless for the time being. You can focus to clean under my bed some other time."
The irritated tone of the prince made Merlin happy. Actually that seemed to be the highlight of his day. Since irritated Arthur was becoming a frequency he had not bargained, and not always by his own accord, it was an added bonus for the boy. "Sir, I am not cleaning under your bed, the fact that I'm on the floor, looking under it means just that, I'm looking for a sponge that I can't find."
"Why on earth would a sponge be under my bed, Merlin? Isn't there an antechamber for that?" But he was already on his knees, looking for said sponge, his vision locating it further away from the two, against the wall on his bedpost and centered.
"I'm not sure, this is about the last place that had occurred to me to look, since I couldn't find it elsewhere."
Arthur raised an eyebrow, looking directly into the boy's eyes, a mocking but aggravated tone coloring his voice, "and you find it of outmost importance to search for a simple sponge to clean because say, we don't have enough around the castle?" he raised his head to the other side of the bed, noticing the room seemed to be in a stable condition, "don't tell me you have been wasting time looking for that instead of doing your chores Merlin because if you have I swear I-"
"You just saw for yourself that it is not the case," Merlin cut him off, a daring act that mostly not a single person got away with. He ignored Arthur's strange expression and continued, "Don't you remember the unnecessary piles of clothes that lay on the floor this morning? Or the mud your boots left on the floor last night?"
Arthur raised himself, staring Merlin down, hoping to intimidate him with his glare, but it seemed to be losing effect. "Idiot," he murmured, just loud enough for the boy to hear. "I am to meet my father about now, Lady Sophia and her father will arrive around noon today. Merlin," he pronounced gravely, "you must be at the main square at that time. As my servant, you must be present."
Merlin simply nodded his understanding, not bothering to look at Arthur directly.
The prince continued with his requests for the day, "when I come back later this evening Merlin, I hope for your own benefit that all of your chores are finished." He started to leave but turned at the door, addressing him again, "I honestly don't know why I keep you as my servant," he finalized with disappointment and bolted out to meet his father.
"It's not my choice of job either," Merlin called out loud, but sure the prince wouldn't hear him.
He gave up on the sponge, realizing that Arthur's words for once had some sense. There were plenty of cleaning materials throughout the castle. He came up from his position, feeling ridiculous for spending an unnecessary amount of time kneed uncomfortably.
The boy had in mind to change the prince's bed dressings, it would surely give the room a different aspect, a special point of focus, hopefully distracting the prince from any minor detail he might forget.
He began to pull the fabrics off the unmade bed, throwing them onto the floor. A particular stubborn sheet had got fixed between the mattress and the bed frame. The boy pulled with force, but the sheet wouldn't budge. Insistent on not damaging the fabric, he pulled up the mattress, struggling with its weight. When he finally had enough space to pull, he yanked the sheet away with force, making it fall to the floor with a sound too loud for any cotton textile, regardless of the force with which it was thrown. Merlin dropped the mattress confused at the sound and began to sort through the beddings, trying to find any pieces of fancy adornments that might be designed into the duvet, explaining the dull thud. But when he searched, he could only find simple patterns and sowings, not a single plastic or wooden material attached. He was perhaps being too paranoid about the situation, but if something had broken, it would be a very wise idea to find it before Arthur did.
Defeated, he removed all of the bed linen from the floor and placed it on a basket, hating himself for doing the task without being asked, as washing all of it would take hours. It didn't matter of course, because as long as there were clean beddings on the prince's bed, he would not bother about the ones removed for at least twenty-four hours. Then the compulsive prince would regard their absence and pronounce something about procrastination and of how delaying one's responsibilities only amounted to unneeded stress.
He turned back to stare at the naked bed, wondering what feeling the soft mattress might induce. He had never sat on it, being too afraid of getting caught. Instead, he proceeded to take clean beddings from a cupboard in the antechamber.
It was with these obligations that Merlin felt the need for release. The frustration within made the boy play the insolent fool around the prince -not in a hypocritical way. The boy knew his boundaries- that he chose to ignore them that was completely different.
Merlin would have once thought of himself as observant if it wasn't for the evidence that lay on the floor that counteracted his belief. When he brought the clean set of bed linens Merlin noticed a small notebook perched at the edge of the bed frame, one that he was completely and absolutely certain was not there just a brief moment ago. He took it without thought, realizing that this was the adamant object that had made the unnecessary noise to elevate his anxiety.
Despite his fear, and mostly mechanically, he sat on the bed, placing the linens next to him and opening a random page from the notebook. It read centered across a mostly empty page and with elegant handwriting,
"In your light I learn how to love, in your beauty how to make poems. You dance inside my chest, where no one sees you…"***
The quote sent through the boy waves of comfort and thrill at the same time. He submersed himself in the writing, allowing his imagination to take charge. He imagined being told this by someone else, or telling such sweet words to another. Merlin fantasized about the reactions, the smiles. And he smiled every time his eyes ran through the quote and he couldn't know why, but the boy felt as if part of it was happening inside his own chest.
At the bottom of the page there was a dedication but it was ran over by angry lines with black ink. He wondered briefly who could be the person the prince dedicated these thoughts for. It was comforting to know that at least he had pure benevolence towards the one he loved. Then again, those angry lines, little stabs of ink that seemed to have relieved the prince from his anger –what could those represent?
He didn't dare read anymore. The warlock knew that this was private and not meant for him or anyone else to read. The boy comforted himself by acknowledging that had he known it was a type of diary, he would have never opened the notebook. Still, Merlin could not help himself but to read through the same quote again, engraving the writing into his mind. It was a surprise to him to discover that Arthur was capable of producing such tender thoughts.
Merlin placed the notebook back where he assumed it belonged: between the mattress and bed frame. He wasn't sure where in-between it was exactly located, and the fact unnerved him a bit. Would the prince notice? The boy thought if changing the beddings was a great idea after all.
But he was already doing it, better to act on the latter part of his chore.
Once he felt he had relinquished to all his tasks for the day, the boy set out to meet the prince on the main square. He didn't part before appreciating his day's work. Arthur's chambers had certainly never looked as spotless. Merlin didn't take pride in that, however. He mostly felt that it would be the best way to have Arthur off his back.
The boy sighed, trying to not think about the activity that followed. If that night had indicated anything at all, it would mean that the exchange between both royal parties would be extremely awkward -and he did not desire to be part of emotions that were undoubtedly none of his business.
He was relieved when he got to the square as Arthur, Morgana, and the king had just gathered with the other servants.
"Look who's on time… for once," Arthur whispered to Merlin rather close into his ear.
It tickled the boy's neck, but he replied with the same sarcasm. "Well, we are expecting very important people. Besides, it is of utmost importance to show the proper respect to those who truly deserve it, sir."
"Indeed," the prince replied, taken aback by the boy's insolence, yet, as many times before, he couldn't bring himself to be angry with him. "Now shut up and try, as much as you're able, to appear attentive."
"Yes sir."
It didn't take long after their secret exchange for the wooden carriage to appear in sight.
Three more followed behind, all pulled by white horses. The only carriage that appeared to convey people was the first one however. The other all presented gifts for Camelot. Some of which Merlin thought to be a little standoffish, referring to the iniquitous decorations that were carved in single logs of wood, portraying themselves as deathbeds.
As the carriages settled before them, Merlin could sense the prince bordering on the edge of anxiety. He would have laughed if not for the seriousness of the situation.
An old man began to remove himself from the carriage, stopping at its entrance when he reached solid ground to offer a hand to his companion. She held his hand, lowering herself with a grace that even Lady Morgana squinted her eyes at the prospect before her.
"My dear friend," Uther offered with sincerity, "I am extremely pleased that you are here."
The man approached the king and took his hand. "We are joyful to have been invited, it will be an honor to see your son participate on the tournament for the first time" he replied earnestly.
The young woman stood by her father. Her blonde locks fell behind her back, leaving her peaches and cream round face exposed to the sunlight. She wore a pink dress, which accentuated the appealing color of her skin.
"Sophia, you look quite lovely," Uther appraised with a smile before turning to his son, "don't you agree Arthur?"
"Of course," said the prince smiling.
Merlin stared as Arthur took the Lady's hand for a brief kiss. He was uncertain whether his anxiety had completely vanished or if he was attempting not to show it. Whichever might be, it seemed to be working.
"It's been long," the prince said, "what have you been doing all these years?"
Before Lady Sophia could answer, Uther interrupted. "There will be plenty of time for you two to get reacquainted, now why don't you join us for a small feast?"
King Aulfric nodded with gratitude.
They continued their embraces. Lady Morgana and Lady Sophia in particular seemed to have remembered how much they used to enjoy each other's company. The two walked together in direction towards the Great Hall. Arthur fell far behind from the rest of the party, desperately trying to detach himself from his obligation.
Merlin walked behind the prince, everyone else but them had entered the castle, as if stalling would prevent from anything the prince feared might happen.
As they reached the entrance, a distant voice called for Merlin's attention.
"Merlin!" The voice of a man yelled.
The boy turned reflexively at the sound of his name.
Arthur turned as well, elaborating a speech about the boy's indolence. He came up to him, stepping one step under him, facing the boy, preparing himself to discharge the tension he felt from minutes ago.
But Merlin was not paying any attention to the prince. The boy was smiling ear to ear. He could sense Arthur's stare, and something in his eyes should have raised concern to him, as he wasn't sure why the prince was looking at him in such way. Merlin couldn't be bothered though. The sight of the young man who called his name was approaching by the second. He dodged the prince, meeting the other man at the bottom of the steps.
"Merlin," the unknown man whispered, smiling.
"Will!" Merlin exclaimed, inclining himself into the boy's arms, placing his face against Will's shoulder. "I'm so glad you're here."
"I am too," he whispered again, "I've missed you."
"I've missed you too."
Arthur stood where Merlin had left him, except he was now facing the two boys. He had heard their exchange of words, witnessed their embrace.
The prince felt uncomfortable, and he could sense anger building up inside. Arthur was not entirely sure what could it be as any recall in his mind would do, and he could not liberally spend time trying to decipher it. He had been running behind as it was. Now everyone would notice his absence or make fanfare on his entrance. It didn't help that he needed a servant, one that was occupied with personal matters.
"Merlin?" Arthur called, irritation not spared in his tone.
The boy hesitantly turned towards Arthur. "Sir?"
"We need to get inside," the prince answered, sounding obvious at the question.
"Right," he said and turned back to Will. "Ask for Gaius and wait for me there, I'll come as soon as I'm able."
"Okay, I'll be there," Will replied, tugging at Merlin's tunic, making the boy flush with embarrassment.
Merlin turned towards Arthur, who had began to ascend the rest of the steps, leaving him a step or two behind. He advanced faster, enough so that the two walked side by side, forgetting about protocol.
"Sir?" The boy suddenly asked. They had almost reached the Great Hall.
"Yes, Merlin?"
"Why is it that I have to be present in the feast?"
Arthur turned his gaze towards him, trying to read into his question and wishing he could hold Merlin still in a way to get a better look, but he could only see innocence in his deep blue eyes. "Why do you ask?"
Merlin began timidly, sure that he was about to get himself in more trouble. "It's just that I am finished with my chores, and I was wondering if I could maybe have the rest of the day off?"
The prince, though he felt he should, was not angry at his request. If anything, he was stunned. Questions began to form at the tip of his tongue, questions that did not relate towards Merlin's obligations. But Arthur couldn't ask, the sole idea was preposterous. Finding a servant interesting was unheard of.
The young warlock waited, but found the silence of the prince as a no.
"I am certain you know the answer to your second question, Merlin," the prince responded after a moment. "As for your first one, well, it was you the one who kept me over there,"-he lowered his eyes as he said this, remembering the wave of anger- "and I am not about to enter by myself to a feast that has already begun."
"Couldn't you have advanced without me?" Merlin wondered out loud.
"I don't think you understand the importance of your position just yet. You are the prince's manservant, a royal servant if you will, you need to be wherever I request you to be."
"Very well," the boy spat, defeated.
Arthur chuckled in spite of himself. "And Merlin, after the feast is over, go to my chambers and prepare a hot bath for me, please."
The boy bit his lip, forcing himself not to show the angry pout that was trying to overcome his senses, leaving him with not choice but to simply nod.
Arthur noticed the boy's peculiar face expression and smiled. Merlin believed it to be a mocking smile.
They reached the doors and stopped briefly. Merlin could sense that Arthur felt nervous, but he couldn't fathom the reason. He was the prince for god's sake he craved the attention.
The doors opened, and thankfully, not a single person drew their eyes to either boy. Arthur relaxed his posture, directing himself towards the only sit that was available. Merlin followed, standing behind the prince, awaiting instructions.
The feast seemed to drag for Merlin. He watched the event through a haze in his eyes. It was difficult for him to concentrate on the task at hand when his mind was far away from the feast. Merlin was worried about Will's sudden visit. At first he could not locate any reason in particular but the selfish idea that Will perhaps only missed him. Then he thought about his mother. Could there be something wrong with her?
The boy took a deep breath, calming himself. No need to worry about speculations.
Surreptitiously, the warlock glanced towards Arthur's direction. The prince looked miserable, and it seemed to be his only distraction to have the boy come and serve him.
Merlin had to attend to Arthur's constant need to refill his cup, drowning himself with, surprisingly to him, water. The boy observed as Arthur paid little attention to the general conversation everyone else seemed to happily include themselves in.
It didn't appear as a surprise to Merlin that Lady Sophia and Arthur had seats next to each other. And while Arthur seemed to enjoy the Lady's company, his terse replies, his constant need to be reminded about the conversation, and especially his lack of attention- it seemed as if Arthur was only physically present, his mind far away from the feast. The prince's eyes would sometimes wonder far into a corner, getting lost in a transition there. Other times he would shift them towards Merlin, who wouldn't stop fidgeting. Their one thing in common being that both wanted nothing more than to be out of the room at once.
Once during the ordeal the prince smirked at Merlin, something at which Merlin replied by furrowing his brow, questioning whether it was directed towards him. Maybe the prince had begun drinking without him noticing.
After another short while of banter, the king raised his goblet and spoke, "a toast to our guests. Let their visit become one of great joy and productivity."
They all raised their goblets, taking the king's words as a time for dismissal.
Everyone began to remove themselves from the room. Both Lady Morgana and Lady Sophia left the room together, followed by Gwen. From the corner of his eye, Arthur could have sworn that Gwen had rolled her eyes at Lady Sophia. And Arthur knew this was improper, but for reasons probable and impossible requests, he felt eased at the insignificant and harmless action.
"Father," the prince called at the retrieving form of his king, "may I have a word with you?"
"Have you considered my request then, Arthur?" the king beamed.
"I'm sorry, that is not about what I wish to talk to you. First I wanted to thank you for not exposing any ideas this afternoon."
"You are welcome. I just believed it not to be prudent on my part, as our guests have just arrived. I will make my ideas public, however, do not doubt that."
Arthur's spine went rigid as his father's words became a threat. The hole, the empty feeling in his stomach could not be but attributed to the betrayal he felt. And though he would have wished to challenge his father, he knew it was not the perfect time, and it was not where he originally intended the direction of their conversation to lead to either. Without a thought, he simply spoke about the reason he had called for his father, "the other day I went through the provisions for this winter."
"Is something the matter with them?"
"No, on the contrary, I say we have more than enough food to sustain all of Camelot."
"Good," the king replied, somewhat worried at the sudden concerned look in his son's eyes. It subtly reminded the king of the times Arthur had been ill as a child.
"In fact, we have enough that we might be able to aid nearby towns, the ones that barely touch our borders." He held his gaze with the king. This was not meant to be an easy conversation for Arthur, reason being that his father would ask something in return from him, to the extent of taking advantage of the good in the prince's heart.
And sure enough, the king saw the opportunity present itself and took advantage of it. "I will consider it, if you consider my plea, son."
Arthur's tone lowered an octave, he glared at his father and yet, he managed to appear respectful. "Like I said earlier father, your request is nothing short of outrageous, but I promise I will take it into serious consideration."
"Until then, let us not bring the matter into conversation any more then." And with that statement, Uther left the now empty room.
Arthur watched his father leave, not moving a single limb. It was after several moments that he turned his attention to his manservant.
"Merlin," the prince called.
"Sir?"
"Remember my request from earlier?"
"I do."
"Please attend to that, I have matters to take care of. I'll be there shortly."
"Of course, sir."
Merlin now watched as the prince left the room, staying behind so that he could muster the conversation between father and son. The way Arthur looked genuinely concerned about his people dazed the boy. A part of him wished he could have said something to him, comfort him in any way. Another part of him, the less noble one, strictly wondered about the situation between them. What could the king possibly want from his son to the extent of extortion?
He left the Great Hall, ready to attend the prince's request when he remembered his friend. He could try and risk going into his chambers and just make sure Will had settled properly, ask him if his mother was well.
No he thought, placating himself for his own benefit.
Instead he walked towards the prince's chambers, worried about Will's visit. He could begin and attribute it to numerous causes. It was perhaps not just the cause that worried him, made the insides of his body constrict with longing.
Of course, the only cause he consciously ascribed this emotion was the forlorn sentiment about his home….
The sun was almost setting when the doors in the prince's chambers opened. Arthur looked awfully exhausted. He dragged his feet across the room, desperately trying to close the distance between him and the chair that was only a few more steps away. The manner in which the prince walked -authoritative and proud, regardless of his state- amused the boy.
The guilt had crawled back inside of Merlin, it had his voice coming short, he was afraid of speaking in shrills if he opened his mouth.
Arthur glanced in his direction, eyeing him, tentative of the sudden traces of respect as he saw Merlin incline his head infinitesimally at his entrance. It was the first time the boy had ever lowered his head at the prince's arrival. Arthur looked around the room, the bed not going unnoticed.
Merlin could see the hesitation in Arthur's eyes, but it wasn't clear, as pure fear took over the blue in his eyes. The boy wondered briefly at his reaction, having only but a second to process it all, because Arthur had composed himself in time, being oddly and cautiously polite to him.
"I see you do fear me after all, Merlin," the prince teased him.
"I'm sorry?" the boy asked, dumbfounded.
"Well I'm really glad that you chose to do as I asked, you saved me and yourself the embarrassment of further consequences." Arthur spoke too composed. It was clear that he maybe had rehearsed two conversations. One that would include all of his unrevealed consequences, and the latter being the one he had just given to Merlin. It would have proven effective if not for the fact that prince Arthur seemed distracted.
It was apparent because the prince's eyes shifted between the boy's and the bed. Something overcame him. It was more than fear. The undiluted embarrassment that now filled him, the thought of his servant reading his notebook, knowing him in such a raw way…
"It is my job," Merlin said nonchalantly, trying to appear unaware of Arthur's posture and mannerisms as he approached him.
"But you hardly ever do as you're told," Arthur accused with a husky grave voice, "What brought on the sudden grace of your obedience?"
Merlin quickly saw his way out. He would act offended. It is something that he would have done anyway, in a different manner. One in which Arthur actually knew he was attempting to be comical. But this would save both of them the uncomfortable and unnecessary time for explanations and reprimands. Possibly even Merlin's job.
"I honestly don't understand you, sire. I try to do my job in accordance and for some reason you seem displeased. Do you not wish for me to do as I'm told?"
But of course the prince was not an imbecile.
Arthur could sense some worry in the boy's eyes. Enough to drive him insane as Merlin constantly kept his gaze away from his.
It was a dilemma. Arthur could not ask deliberately about his notebook. Yet, the way he felt made him feel exposed in the most naked of ways. If he not spoke about it, he would forever think his own manservant thought of him as weak.
Merlin noticed Arthur's internal battle, unsure if it would be wise to interrupt, but he needed to leave, needed to talk to his visitor.
The boy sighed, pressing his lips in a hard line while pouring the last bucket of water into the warm bathtub. The silence and his unanswered question had him on the verge of panic.
"Are you alright, Merlin?" Arthur asked, forgetting his dilemma momentarily.
"Yes. Why, why do you ask?"
"Because honestly Merlin, this has to be the first time in which you have actually performed the duties of a manservant." Arthur was pleased to say the least. It was the reason that brought Merlin to do so that interested him.
The young warlock said nothing.
"Is it that boy from earlier?" Arthur asked persuasively, unexplainably becoming choleric by the thought. Merlin was not his favorite person, but he had to admit that he did not enjoy seeing him so concerned.
Merlin sighed again, and decided to spew everything off his chest. "To your first question. I decided the only way to have you stop constantly finding ways to take advantage of me would be to do exactly as I'm told-"
"It is-" Arthur tried to interrupt.
"To your second question," Merlin pressed, unaware that he had cut off the prince, "my friend's visit has me worried because I'm afraid it might be my mother that has fallen ill or something of the like. I was not expecting him, and I honestly hope he's only here because he wished to see me."
Well, almost everything. Merlin opted to not reveal his finding from the morning. It would likely explain himself further, but the reasons he gave were valid. Arthur did constantly overwork him.
"You think your mother is ill?" Arthur asked concerned, and ignoring the first part of Merlin's rambling to focus on the part about his mother.
"I hope not."
The unattached, the crude preoccupation in Merlin's voice made the prince's insides constrict uncomfortably.
"Is.. is your father with her?" he asked, suddenly wondering why he felt worried when he had matters of his own and much more pressing than a mere assumption.
"I never met my father." Merlin admitted.
"I'm, I'm sorry…" the prince told him, wanting to say something to make the boy feel better. "I never met my mother," he confessed.
Arthur felt awkward. It was no mystery that his mother had died giving birth to him, but this had to be the first time that he actually said the words out loud from his own lips to someone else. He had to admit that the words felt strange, foreign.
"I.. I know," Merlin said. "Gaius told me about her, he said she was very beautiful and unnaturally kind."
Arthur smiled, aware that Merlin, even though it was him who was worried by his mother, tried comforting the prince about his.
"Wouldn't it have been stupendous that some of her kindness had been inherited to you?" The boy continued, attempting to lift the sudden mood. It was unusual for him to be having a conversation with Arthur that did not involve the words idiot and clotpole. It was different, but not bad at all.
"Idiot," the prince murmured, trying to hide his smile with a snicker. "So, you think your friend misses you and that it might be the only reason he is here?" He asked pinned by the same interest he felt hours ago, though he tried hiding it.
"Yes, well I hope so. It's been too many weeks since I have heard of any of them back home. I sure miss them."
"To undertake on a journey to simply visit one that misses you is certainly out of the ordinary," Arthur pondered out loud with no implications whatsoever.
"That is called friendship, a special bond between persons. I would have assumed that you of all people would understand that." Merlin suddenly wondered about the life of Arthur in previous years. Would there really be little to no one important in his life besides his family?
But Arthur had his mind racing back in time. The prince remembered the time Merlin saved his life. The boy seemed smarter than he looked, and he could very well have different intentions. He wanted to ask the reason with profound curiosity, but he decided it was not the right time.
"There is no such thing as friendship for me. Only allies and enemies; everyone that falls in between is considered a possible threat." He spoke with rehearsed words, clearly those of his father.
Merlin could see too. He was not surprised. The boy rather felt pity for Arthur. Especially because he thought that anyone who was capable of producing such discerning thoughts as the prince, he would definitely be capable of forming strong bonds with others.
"I don't agree," the boy challenged after a moment of silence.
Arthur stared intently at Merlin, shifting his eyes to fix them with the boy's.
When the prince didn't reply, the boy continued, "I don't believe that a person has to go alone through life thinking that no one is worthy of his trust. Why would anyone wish to accomplish great things in life with no one to cherish them with?"
The prince had his eyes completely caught in Merlin's. It felt as if he were staring into space, except he got lost in the depth of Merlin's piercing blue eyes, processing his words and trying not to agree with his reasoning.
He broke eye contact, and walked up to him, stopping at the end of the bathtub. "How old are you Merlin?"
The boy stood perplexed, wondered briefly if the prince had heard anything at all. "I'm eighteen," he answered, narrowing his eyes as Arthur took the information with surprise, "how old are you, sire?"
"I'm nineteen," the prince responded, feeling odd that he was talking to his servant, the single proper word sire bringing him back into place. "Go to your friend Merlin," the prince commanded, slipping a hand into the warm water.
"But your bath-"
"My bath is nearly done. Go to your friend before I change my mind," he interrupted.
"…Thank you," he fervently expressed gratitude and began to walk towards the door.
"Merlin?" The prince called after him.
The boy slowly turned worried that perhaps the prince had changed his mind. It seemed as if the prince could read his face, as a forming smile vanished as soon as Merlin began to walk defeated back towards the buckets of water.
"Stop," the prince commanded, making the boy stop in his tracks and focus completely on Arthur.
"What is it?" the young warlock asked, now worried that Arthur would turn this civilized conversation into something ugly.
"It's just that you speak with certain maturity. Your perspective is not the right one for me of course but, the insight itself is," he had quite a difficult time admitting this, "interesting."
Merlin's smile for a second made Arthur's world turn its light on, only to be shut back off by the idea that Arthur wished not to have it on, especially not by Merlin.
"I just said it was interesting, that's hardly a compliment," he scoffed, "now go before I truly change my mind."
With that, Merlin walked towards the door again.
"Merlin?" The prince called once more.
"Yes, sire?" the boy turned around again, no hint of amusement in his eyes as a splash of water from the prince's fingers met his face. It wasn't unpleasant, just unexpected.
"Be here early tomorrow." He ordered.
Merlin nodded and left the room pleased that he was able to successfully divert Arthur from his notebook.
Only thing was that Merlin was unable to place the sudden twinge of current that went through his body…
THANK YOU FOR READING! AGAIN, CONCRIT IS ALWAYS WELCOME. I REALLY ASPIRE ON BECOMING BETTER AT WRITING EVERY DAY =)
