Chapter Four: Merlin's 'Normal'

Sir Nereth had never ached in these places before, despite intense training as a Knight of Camelot. He had never been on his knees for such long stretches of time and they were smarting something fierce by the time he arrived in King Arthur's chambers with the monarch's lunch.

The castle steward had wasted no time in assigning him scrubbing duties in the great hall and the throne room. He'd spent the hours since dawn on his hands and knees and he didn't think the grime would ever come off.

As he pressed the door to the King's chambers open with his back, balancing the trays in his hands, he could hear movement on the other side and he turned his head round to see what had caused it. To his immense surprise, a goblet came flying out of nowhere and the King's voice sounded from inside the wardrobe.

"Where is my blue jacket! Merlin knows I like it here and it's not here."

As the goblet connected with Sir Nereth's shoulder, he dropped the tray that hand was holding in shock and barely managed to keep the other aloft. Arthur turned at the sound and his brow furrowed. "What are you doing, Nereth? I can't eat off the floor..." He frowned. "Merlin never drops the trays when I throw things at him. I think I'll need to add more dodging to your training. What if that had been an arrow?"

Nereth's jaw dropped, but he wisely said nothing. He'd been on the receiving end of the King's temper since he'd drawn his sword and injured his liege's manservant. The knight couldn't fathom why the King was so upset, it was just a nick and the man was a sorceror. Surely he could just wiggle his fingers and it would be healed?

"Sorry, sire," he said. "I'll nip back to the kitchens and fetch you another tray."

The King held up a hand. "Wait," he said. "You've brought me far too much food anyway, I'll do without the bread and cheese you dropped." Looking around, he scuffed his foot along the floor and frowned. "This floor needs a good scrubbing. All the rain lately – the mud has really accumulated in here. I meant to have Merlin do it today, so I guess it falls to you since you saw fit to attack him unprovoked."

The Knight gulped as the King approached. "Why did you do it, Nereth? You knew I was accepting of Merlin's talents. You knew that he means Camelot no harm. So why did you draw on him? Egg him on? Like you wanted a confrontation. If Merlin didn't have impeccable patience and had retaliated, I would have had to address his magic in front of all of Camelot sooner than I wanted. I was ready to strip you of your title and rank – Merlin stopped me."

That was news to Nereth. He had been a hairs breadth from losing his Knight's rank.

"But sorcery never ends well," he said quietly, not daring to look up at the King as he scrubbed a stubborn mud stain on the ground. "He'll turn like all the others. Like my brother turned and joined a renegade band of sorcerors. He attacked his own family."

Nereth was gripping the scrub-brush so tightly it was digging into his palms. When he realized he'd spoken aloud, and in front of the king, no less, he blanched and dropped the brush with a soft clatter.

Looking up, he was surprised to find Arthur looking at him from a crouched position mere feet away. "So that's it," the King said thoughtfully. "You know betrayal first hand and you fear Merlin will follow your brother's path."

Standing he gestured for Nereth to stand with him. "This actually pleases me," he said, continuing quickly when Nereth eyed him as if he were crazy. "If it had been just blind hatred for no reason, I would have been hard-pressed to allow you to remain a Knight of the Round Table. But your dislike of Merlin has a catalyst." He sat at the table and tucked into his lunch. "Perhaps you should get to know magic as I have – perhaps you should spend some time with Merlin to wash away the taint caused by your brother." He looked up again. "For what it's worth, Nereth, I am sorry your family suffered at the hands of a sorceror. I know what that feels like. I also know what it feels like to benefit from magic. Don't lump all who practice magic together – my father and I did that for far too long."

Nereth frowned at the idea of spending time with Merlin. He didn't like the man. There had always been something about the servant that had rattled Nereth. Everyone else had seen Merlin as a clumsy, homely sort. But not Nereth. Merlin had reminded him of Melosh almost from the start. Unassuming, but at the same time strikingly focused.

Arthur hadn't interrupted the Knight's internal battle, just continued to eat. When Nereth shook himself back to awareness, the King cleared his throat. "I'm not going to let you off from Merlin's duties," he said. "But I'm also not going to strip your rank. You will, upon finishing chores given to you by the steward, venture to Gaius' chambers and spend half an hour speaking with him. I'll warn him to expect you."

Nereth bit his lip against the argument that wanted to erupt from them. It wouldn't do to anger the King yet again. He was already up to his neck in work because of his rash behavior in the Lower Town. "Aye, sire," he said, stooping to pick up the brush again. Inwardly, he hoped the steward kept him busy forever.


Gauis' chambers …

"Merlin, for the tenth time – sit down!"

The dark-haired warlock froze in the middle of another pace and looked over at Gaius. "Sorry," he said, coming around to the bench beside his mentor. "I'm just nervous. What in the world is Arthur hoping to accomplish by having Nereth interact with me? The man hates me."

For a moment, the old physician didn't answer. Then: "Nereth's brother was a sorceror," he finally said. "Fifteen years ago, Melosh ran off and joined a band of renegade magic users who were bent on trying to kill Uther. Nereth and their father tried to stop them and Melosh injured Nereth and killed their father – with magic. I'm not really surprised he doesn't like you." He held up a hand before Merlin could retort. "I'm not saying he's right. But I do understand his reservations."

Merlin frowned. "If his hatred is based in a past betrayal, is there anything I can do to change that? I'm not his friend, he doesn't know me. How can I make him see magic isn't to be feared and hated?" He smacked his head down onto the table, cringing at the pressure the action put on his chest and the fresh stitches.

Gaius patted his shoulder. "Just be yourself, Merlin," he said. "It was enough for Arthur and most of the Knights."

A knock sounded on the chamber door. Merlin slumped further on the bench and made no move to head for the door. Gaius sighed and pulled himself to his feet. He tugged open the door to reveal a disheveled Knight Nereth. The man looked nothing like nobility, decked out in servant's clothing and sweat dampening his hair and neck.

"Gaius," he said. "I was ordered by the King to … spend time with Merlin." The distaste was blatant in his voice. "May I come in?"

Gaius stepped aside in answer and gestured for Nereth to enter. The knight eyed Merlin at the table and frowned. The top of a bandage was peaking up from the man's shirt and Nereth bit his lip. He really hadn't meant to injure the man. He was momentarily unable to move forward as he realized just how much damage he could have inflicted.

The bang of the door behind him jolted him into movement again and Nereth ventured to the table opposite the warlock. Merlin merely tracked him with his eyes, but said nothing. As Nereth stood beside Gaius' usual chair, Merlin said nothing and waited for Nereth to make the opening move.

A few moments passed before Gaius cleared his throat from the other side of the room, drawing both Nereth and Merlin's attentions. "I'm going to do my rounds in the Lower Town," he said. Eying both younger men, he added, "I expect the two of you to behave. And Nereth, I have known your family for many years. You have a good head on your shoulders, but you are stubborn and your distrust of magic is based on a very small instance, tragic, but not at all representative of everyone with magic. Listen to Merlin. He is what magic is really all about."

With a clack, the wooden door slapped shut as the physician exited the rooms, leaving Merlin still staring at a standing Knight Nereth. As the door shut, Nereth seemed to deflate, resigned to his fate. He turned to Merlin and slowly pulled out the chair opposite the man.

"I really don't want to be here," Nereth said under his breath.

To his surprise, Merlin piped up immediately, "That makes two of us."

Both stopped speaking and the silence grew awkward again. As the quiet stretched on, Merlin eying Nereth and Nereth eying Merlin back, the warlock began to wonder if they would spend the entire half an hour staring at each other.

Truth be told – that would be fine with him.

But as luck would have it, Nereth must have been warned of the consequences not speaking would bring and he opened his mouth with a sigh. "I'm really not sure what the King hopes to accomplish here," he said, finally breaking the silence. "I have no reason to trust sorcery and much reason to despise it. How can you change that in half an hour?"

Merlin picked at the table beneath his right hand. "I probably can't," he said, not looking up from his digging on the table. "But honestly, Sir Nereth, don't you think Arthur has far more reason to distrust sorcery than even you? Look what it did to his family. And he has managed to accept me as I am." He peered up at the knight across from him. "And, if that isn't enough to at least get you to not kill me, perhaps my having directly saved your life in the past would."

Nereth stopped fidgeting at that. "That never happened," he said angrily. "You have never saved my life, I would have known it!" He rose and paced to the window. "That's all sorcery is – lies."

He flinched when Merlin stood and approached from behind. Nereth turned to make sure the warlock wasn't about to put a knife in his back, but Merlin was not coming to stand beside him, he was reaching for a book on Gaius' shelves.

"Do you recall fighting this creature a few weeks back," the young sorceror said, thrusting a book into the knight's hands. Nereth fumbled to get a grip on it as Merlin continued past him to the table, taking his seat again. "Care to read the last paragraph of the passage on this creature?"

Nereth pursed his lips. "The Dorwald can only be defeated by means of magic and metal."

Frowning, Nereth slapped the book back on the table. "I killed that beast with a blow to the heart. You were across the clearing from me. There is no way you intervened." He didn't mention the old blue sheen he now realized might have been more than a trick of the waning sunlight.

But Merlin did.

"Come on, Nereth, you can't be a knight of Camelot and blind," the warlock said. "I cast a spell on your blade so that it would penetrate the beast's hide. Don't tell me you didn't notice how everyone's blades simply richocheted off the creature until yours suddenly turned blue and went through?"

To Nereth's horror, Merlin whipped a paring knife off the table and started to utter nonsense under his breath. Except, obviously it wasn't nonsense as the blade took on the exact hue his sword had in that clearing. And Nereth couldn't deny that it was identical. That image had haunted him for days.

Merlin spoke another word and the blade returned to its normal state.

Again the room was plunged into silence. Merlin watched Nereth, waiting for a reaction. When the stalemate continued, he decided to take another route. "If you are going to hate magic for one tragic act, then by that argument I am going to hate both archers and swordsmen for the same reason."

Nereth swallowed, but didn't speak from his spot at the window.

Merlin gripped the table hard. "My best friend Will was killed by a crossbow bolt, and my father was killed by a sword. By your reasoning, I should despise and distrust all who wield such weapons," he said. "But unlike you, I realize it's the person not the weapon that's to blame."

As the sun settled lower in the sky, Nereth finally shifted, his feet taking him back to the table across from Merlin. Settling down, he looked the other man in the eye. "I guess the King chose his advisor wisely," he whispered. "Your points are all valid. I'm ..." he faltered. "I'm not ready to accept magic, Merlin. But I can see that there is more to the issue than I was allowing for. And I apologize for wounding you in the Lower Town. My behavior was reprehensible and unbecoming a Knight of Camelot."

Merlin was flabbergasted. His tactic had worked? Licking his lips, he nodded, "Apology accepted. I don't expect us to suddenly become friends. But if we can at least put the hatred aside and work in concert to ensure Arthur's safety, then that will be enough."

In a slow movement, Merlin extended his hand forward, offering it to Nereth. The knight eyed the hand that had so recently cast magic, hesitated a moment, and then extended his own to accept it. "I think we can manage that," the knight said.

A sudden clapping at the door startled both men, who jumped apart and reached for their weapon of choice – Nereth the recently enchanted paring knife, and Merlin, a raised and wary hand poised for spellcasting.

"Peace!" The owner of the voice said, stepping into the room.

Arthur held both hands up in surrender, with a smile on his face. "I only came to see how Merlin was doing, I was unaware that you would still be here, Nereth. It's been an hour."

Merlin and the knight exchanged shocked glances. "Well," Merlin said suddenly, "we did spend a bunch of that time burning holes in each others foreheads with our stares..." He flicked a hand quickly as Arthur flung the nearest object at him – one of Gauis' favorite collection jars. Thankfully it halted in mid-air and floated to the table slowly under Merlin's guidance. "Hey! What was that for?"

The King raised an eyebrow – eerily similar to how Gaius did. "That, Merlin, is for sarcasm, as usual. You do know that I'm the King and you can't talk to me like that?"

Merlin laughed lightly. "Yes, I know," he said.

Nereth watched the interaction and couldn't help but notice the ease of his liege's relationship with his servant. "Sire, I believe it's time I take my leave," he said when silence ensued. "I have much to think on this night."

Arthur nodded to him, and the knight too his leave.

"So Merlin, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

The warlock simply huffed and flung the collection jar back at Arthur.

A/N: I can't apologize enough. This should have been updated ages ago. I've been ridiculously busy moving, and work has been insane. I have no idea where this is going, so I have no idea when I will update again. But I welcome suggestions.