"It was good of you to do all of that," Merlin states, his eyes pointedly staring at the fire burning in between them.
Since neither had told Hunith of a shift in their relationship, the two had been keeping a fair distance from one another the whole way home for the sake of propriety, thus far. The sudden return to the less open versions of themselves has Merlin becoming more reserved with each passing second that the charade continues. It also makes him wonder whether or not this is how it is to be once they're back in Camelot. The thought alone makes him inwardly hope to increase the length of time it takes for their group to reach home, should that be so. At least out in the great wide open, away from whispers and prying eyes, he has the space to enjoy a more relaxed version of the man he had fallen in love with years prior.
Despite Hunith's presence, the two find themselves gravitating to one and other as they always had when the pair thought she had gone elsewhere. In his heart, Merlin knows that it is wrong to wish he could hoard away more of Arthur's time, being the fact that he is the King and all. That truth doesn't stop him from occasionally having delusions of doing so, however.
Having become attuned to the array of Merlin's moods, Arthur is inherently aware that something is off, but he is unsure as to what. Up until they had gotten to Ealdor, Merlin had been relatively carefree, compared to his normal demeanor that he clung closely to in Camelot. The young man he had met with the free smiles had disappeared some years ago. Only in his presence did Arthur witness even the slightest bit of return to the person that Merlin had once been. Silently, the blond decides to make it his mission to make sure these rare occurrences turn up more often, now that the worst is behind them.
Privately, Arthur is aware that even though their greatest worries have been vanquished or put to rest even, there is still much to clean up in the aftermath. The brief interlude the two had shared before gathering up Hunith had laid the groundwork for the future, but he is under no delusions that it means everything will be perfect from here on out. While the King had an inordinate amount of time to puzzle out the darker portions of his mind, during Merlin's recovery and subsequent absence, Arthur is sure that knowing Merlin as well as anyone truly could, the lanky man had yet to do much the same.
"I did what any good statesman would do, and nothing more," Arthur replies, willing Merlin's dark blue irises to his own.
When Arthur and Merlin had arrived in Ealdor to retrieve Hunith, the village itself by that time had finally received word that magic is to be legal. As a ruler, the young king has always placed his best efforts into being a man for the people. In doing so, his subjects have a certain respect for him that Uther had not considered as a monarch himself, nor dared to think he would have. This admiration for him made them more likely to approach him, rather than skulk away at his presence.
In Ealdor, a throng of adults hailed him over, before politely requesting that he take the time to answers their questions. This, much to his dismay, was not the last instance that such a thing would happen on their return home. In fact it happened thrice over, which only detained them further. Naturally, with this being his first public appearance amongst the citizens of Camelot, since he had enacted the repeal, they had questions.
Frequently more so than they would if it were only Arthur and Merlin, the trio had brought the small procession to a rest, because Hunith is not accustomed to the arduous trips that the two young men are. In almost each place they stop, the King had been met with enthusiastic claps to the shoulders, or mothers thanking him in their childrens' stead, as well as a select few who hung back from the majority. Merlin, who is by far and large used to being observant for the sole sake of his or Arthur's survival, had redoubled that, because his mother is with them. While he is ecstatic that most everyone has taken to the ban being lifted, the few that are not so happy about it continue to remain a mental thorn in his side.
"A humble Arthur Pendragon? Who would have thought," Merlin teases, now affording the monarch a glance.
"I have my moments," Arthur parries weakly, unsure of what to say now that he has gotten the sorcerer's attention.
The two regard one another quietly, with an intensity that comes with knowing the pitfalls and passions of a person so intimately. For his part, Arthur had enjoyed the divergence from the litany of life in Camelot, as well as the chance to be with his dearest friend. Even though they had become lovers, their relationship had never been founded on ideals like love, even if every bone in his body would sing for the sorcerer if only he would ask. Indeed, he would never deny that he could no more help his love for the brunet than the sky could help being blue, or the grass being green. However, one thing he had sorely missed most in Merlin's time away was the easy camaraderie the two had shared over the years. In truth, the thinner man had been his first friend, which would not change, regardless of whether love had now become involved.
Clearing his throat, Merlin glances over at his mum. She had been knackered from the day's ride, and thus chose to lie down earlier than the previous night. Noticing the furtive glance towards Hunith, a thought occurs to Arthur. Rising from his side, the blond walks over to Merlin, offering his hand to the man in front of him. Without reservation, Merlin grasps it, before allowing himself to be hauled up into a standing position. Keeping hold of his left hand, Arthur leads them to the lake they had made camp near, before releasing his grasp.
Looking around, he does the first thing he can think of, and picks up a rock which he plans to skip over the calm water. When his makes it no more than one hop across the previously placid body of water, he turns back to Merlin expectantly, finding a bemused expression on his face.
"That's the best you've got, Pendragon?"
"You think you can do better then?" Arthur demands, grateful that Merlin had taken his actions in stride.
"A blind man with one arm tied behind his back could do better than that!" the sorcerer exclaims goodnaturedly, while searching the ground below for a smooth stone to use.
"Is that so? Well, let's see if you can do better, Mer lin."
Glancing over at Arthur, Merlin finds the genuine smile across the blond's face intriguing. For a brief moment, a warmth bubbles up in his chest, which allays his fears about the future for the time being. Tearing his eyes from him, he returns to the task at hand, until he spies the perfect stone directly below him. Swooping down, he plucks it up into his fingers, rubbing the pads of each one across it, before turning back to the direction of the lake.
Standing before the water, he inhales slowly, eyeing it with trepidation. The last time he had done this, it had been him and Will. Echoes of Will teasing him because his first try at skipping rocks had fallen flat, his stone having done much as Arthur's had a minute ago, filter through his mind.
"Have you never skipped rocks before?" Will asks, after his fit of giggles had subsided into a more somber expression.
"This would be a first," Merlin mumbles, his eyes downcast to the gravel beneath them.
"Well, it's not so hard, once you get the hang of it," Will states, attempting to console him.
"Who taught you then?" Merlin demands, suddenly wondering if this is the sort of stuff he had been missing out on, because his mother had refused to send him to the village's school.
"My Pa," Will informs, looking away from the sudden sadness his friend displays.
So it hadn't been a thing most school children learned, but something his father might have taught him, if he were around. Feeling the weight of loss again, Merlin looks away, fighting back tears that even at twelve, he felt shame in shedding over a man he had never known.
"I can teach you, if you'd like?" Will offers.
"Thank you Will," Merlin mumbles, wiping away the tears that had traitorously fallen down his face.
It was only until his childhood best friend had shown him how that he had been able to get the hang of it, without magic, of course. Although he had been tempted then, his Mother had made him promise if he was to make friends with the other village children, then he would abstain from practicing even the slightest shred of it in their presence. Looking out over the expanse of water, he turns to his side, in the way that Will had once done. When he catches Arthur's eye just before he releases, the open emotions on his face alert him to the fact that this is more than a simple act, any longer.
Once he has thrown it, Merlin steps back to watch. Across the water, the stone hops, until it reaches where the moonlight is unable to shine. A burst of triumph shoots through him, and he jumps up in the air with excitement. When he glances over at Arthur again, he finds that worry is quickly replaced with a look of fondness.
"So, I suppose we can add skimming stones to the list of strange feats you manage to accomplish?" Arthur queries, quirking up a bemused eyebrow.
"What can I say? I'm a man of many talents."
"So you've told me."
Searching for another pebble, Arthur is determined to make it at least a bit farther than he had in his first go. Truthfully, the last time he himself had done this was with Morgana, in the earlier years of their childhood. There was a time when the two had enjoyed leisure activities together, where they didn't quibble at the slightest difference of opinion. That period had passed though, as they had aged up into their older adolescent years, before made aware that they were indeed kin.
Once he has another throwing stone in his hand, he turns to find Merlin staring out into the trees, his mind far gone from the time and place as. The sound of footsteps draws the sorcerer out of his reverie though, tugging his line of sight to Arthur once more. The distant look slowly dissipates, leaving a sad, but fond look of his own that appears to be directed at the King himself.
"Here goes nothing," Arthur states aloud, purely to garner Merlin's attention to himself further.
Mimicking the way Merlin had stood before, he steadies his hand before hurling the stone towards the water. This time, despite his valiant efforts, his chosen rock doesn't even have the decency to take pity on him and hop even once. Instead, as soon as it graces the water, it begins its descent to the bottom of the pool below it.
"That was-" Merlin begins, before he is cut off by Arthur stating in disgust, "Awful."
"Yeah, I'm not sure even my magic could have fixed that," Merlin states in a playful tone.
"Would you have even bothered to try?"
"At risk of inflating your ego even more?" Merlin pauses, pretending to ponder doing so, before replying with, "No, not a chance."
A look of mock vexation appears on Arthur's face before he gets an idea. His eyes become heavy lidded, and sultry, which suddenly has Merlin's cheeks heating. Stepping closer in determination, the blond steps up right beside the warlock, which does little to squelch the sudden fire lit inside of him. Slowly, Arthur moves to stand behind him, resting his hands lightly on Merlin's hips. Breathing softly against the brunet's ear, he then whispers, "Well, if that's the case," he begins, trailing off as he is rewarded with a moan that would make his knees quake, were it not for the fact that he has another agenda in mind.
Reaching up, he quickly grabs Merlin in a headlock, before the sorcerer knows what has happened. Rubbing his fist into the dark tendrils on top of his head, he pulls him down to the ground, where the two begin an intense wrestling match with each other. Gone is the wanton desire Merlin had openly displayed, leaving in its stead pure glee as he and Arthur tumble over the soft grass beneath them. Some time later, when Arthur has effectively pinned Merlin to the ground for the umpteenth time, the two agree to a truce. Disentangling, the couple lie on their backs, to gaze up at the stars above them.
"Camelot was far less interesting when you were away," Arthur admits, casually intertwining his left hand with Merlin's right across the space between them.
Another time, Merlin might have made a jab at him, ribbing him about the candid line. However, at the mention of home, the previous sadness seeps back into his mind once again. Holding onto Arthur's hand, he squeezes it, treating the touch as a life line. Deeper down in the depths of his mind, Merlin feels guilty about his thoughts, because rationally he believes he should be insanely happy now. He knows that the outcome could have ended up far different, but it hadn't, thus he should be content. Should be, and are, however, do not necessarily always coincide.
As a new gust of guilt crashes into Merlin, Arthur stares up at the stars, elated to have his best friend back. His company had been sorely missed by many, for various reasons, but no one had wished for his presence more than the King. Something, perhaps a longing to memorize his face yet again, pushes the blond to slide his gaze over to the warlock. Rather than meeting the visage of a man at peace with the world, he finds a haunted look that few ever truly have. Further anguish enters Merlin's eyes as he realizes what Arthur has witnessed.
Ripping his hand away from the strong grasp it had been in, Merlin jumps up to his feet, but not before Arthur is able to stop him with a tender touch on the small of his back. Turning to face him, Merlin's heart is beating erratically, wondering what on earth he can possibly say. He had never been good with talking about his own problems. He preferred to help others with theirs. Only when he could no longer take it had he gone to his mum for reassurance, back in Ealdor. Even then, she hadn't been privy to the full extent of the sins weighing on his heart.
"Merlin-" Arthur begins softly, attempting not to scare him away.
"I think it's time we retire for the evening. Morning will be here soon" Merlin states, willing his eyes to look anywhere but at his companion.
"Merlin-" he repeats, unperturbed by the way that his friend is trying to deflect him.
"If you wish to stay up, be my guest. Goodnight, Arthur," he bids, in a clipped sort of manner.
Treading away in the direction of the camp site, Merlin leaves Arthur behind, wondering what had caused such a quick departure. Following after him shortly, the King decides to forgo discretion, and wrap himself around Merlin before he falls asleep. Half tempted to shirk away from him, the sorcerer thinks better of it, a bit of the tension in his body calming at the other's touch. Shortly, despite his mind loping down avenues of forgotten memories and guilt ridden thoughts alike, he finds himself pressing himself fully against Arthur, before falling slowly into a dreamless sleep.
When the sun peeks over the horizon, bringing dawn to the world around them, Merlin is the first to rise. His mother, who had not stirred at all during the night, is slow to get up after him. Arthur follows last, but does so resignedly, despite his desire to address the previous night. With Hunith awake though, and a home to return to, he pushes it into the back of his mind to revisit at a later date.
The remaining distance between them and Camelot is scant, and soon they are within eyesight of the castle. Turrets and open windows greet the three travelers on their re-entry, which is a welcome sight compared to the countryside they had all become acclimated to seeing for varying degrees of time, respectively. By Arthur's trajectory, the party should have been able to reach the citadel within four days, at the very latest. However, it was not meant to be so.
For the first time since they had left Ealdor, Arthur is grateful to see so many smiling faces. Pacing Aurelian and Hengroen through the streets of the lower town, the three marvel at the waving and cheering around them, their own people greeting them as if each has known them personally for the whole of their lives. Merlin, who is straddled in front Arthur, ducks his head and focuses on guiding the palace stallion to their destination. Being known as a servant still, he is not required to do anything by social standards, and the quieter man epitomizes on this. Meanwhile, the King himself acknowledges everyone that he is able to as they ride past.
Entering the prominent arch ways, all three breathe a sigh of relief, as the horses move towards the front steps with excitement at familiar surroundings. Gwaine and Percival happen to be walking through the courtyard deep in a conversation, when they spy their King and his Merlin. Noting the exhaustion, but overall chipper manner Arthur seems to exude, both silently thank the gods for this. When the two steeds halt at the edge of the front steps, both Knights move into action. While Percival goes to help Hunith dismount, Gwaine chooses to aid Arthur and Merlin.
"Welcome back, Merlin. You are definitely a sight for sore eyes," he states, giving a hand to the sorcerer.
Swinging his inner leg over the backside of the horse, Merlin allows Gwaine to catch him before he hits the ground.
"Are you not happy to see me as well?" Arthur demands, his face pulled into a faux sulk, as he drops down to the ground on his own.
"Hello to you too, Princess," Gwaine affords, a brash wink directed at him shortly after.
Chuckling, Merlin goes to his mother so that he can carry in her belongings, but is stopped by a hand pressing on his left forearm. Looking up, he meets Arthur's steady gaze. Hunith turns away from the pair, choosing to walk up a few steps to give them space.
"I'll send for one of the other servants around here to help her. She'll be set up in the East tower-"
"Arthur, it's fine. There's no need to have another servant do what I can just as easily," Merlin responds soundly.
While Arthur wants to deny him, the determination in his voice wins the King over. After all, he still needs to speak with Gwen. Nodding in ascension, he crowds the man further, placing a kiss on Merlin's left cheek, which strangely elicits a look of surprise from the warlock. Ruffling his hair, the blond then steps back, watching as Merlin strides off to go about the task he has set out to do.
"If you need anything, you know where to find me," Arthur calls out behind him, which Merlin hears, and nods in his direction.
Ignoring the pointed looks of interest in his direction now, he turns back to where Hengroen is standing. A movement out of the corner of his eye pulls his gaze over to Geraint, who he finds milling around. An idea strikes the King, so he beckons the slightly younger man forward. Apprehensively, Geraint does as he is bid.
"Hello Geraint. As you can see, we're back, and I am in a bit of a bind. My previous manservant is no longer available to remain in the position, so I will need time to find a new one. In an attempt to remedy this, I am requesting that you attend me as a manservant should for a brief time, until you can formerly be knighted here in Camelot."
Indignantly, Geraint looks over at Merlin, who is now helping Hunith up the stairs.
"What's wrong with the one you've got now? He seems to have healed up just fine."
Other than Merlin, no one had ever questioned him with such insolence. Regarding him with a steely gaze, raising his eyebrows to denote his displeasure, Arthur replies with, "He has been given a promotion, and will no longer be required to assist me."
"Of course," Geraint mutters, knowing better than to challenge the idea further.
"You are here on a trial basis, Geraint. I can just as easily send you back to Caerleon should you prove to be less than exemplary. More to the point, if you give Merlin any sort of trouble, you will find me to be far less lenient with you then. Am I understood?"
Realizing the predicament that he has found himself in, as well as cursing himself for walking through the courtyard at the time he did, the younger blond nods reluctantly.
"Good man. Now, if you will be so kind as to take in the remainder of our property, I would be grateful. Find me later, and I will debrief you on what being my manservant entails."
Walking away in a huff, Geraint stomps over to the other side of Hengroen, to retrieve the remaining items strapped to the horse. Intentionally ignoring anyone's gaze, the demoted former knight quickly disappears shortly after. Stepping up beside him, Gwaine claps his King on the back, grinning like a madman.
"That, my dear King, was brilliant."
"Your approval means the world to me, Sir Gwaine, truly," Arthur states dryly, with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Together the two men climb the stairs, with Percival not far behind them now. After helping Hunith down, he had gone to alert the stable boys that they were needed. Now, he trails after them, quickly catching up with his long legs.
"Have Sir Leon visit me, if you should see him," the King states.
"Percival and I shall go seek him out for you then."
"Thank you," Arthur replies, before stepping towards the well worn path to his chambers.
When he opens the door to his shared room with Gwen, he finds her reading a book in a chair by the bed. Looking up, the Queen marks her page, before getting up to run into his arms. Even after a few years of marriage under their belts, the two adore each other as if they were only courting. The relationship had become a steady constant in his life, just as his friendship and eventual love for Merlin had. Him falling for his best friend had not changed the emotions he holds for her. If he were being honest, the way in which she had dealt with the revelation had only made him love her more. Holding her tightly, reveling in the softness of her touch, Arthur breathes in the familiarity that is his wife.
A few minutes later, the two break apart from their embrace. Not before they steal a loving kiss from one another, of course. Stepping away from her, Arthur finds himself the object of her scrutiny. He is sure now that even without explanation, she is certain that he acted upon her words. A grin encompasses her features when he pivots around to face her once more.
"I take it your trip to Ealdor went well?" she queries, aware of the answer even before the last word leaves her lips.
"Would I have returned if it hadn't?" he replies, affording her a grin, before seating himself at his desk.
"I suppose not. I'm surprised Merlin isn't bounding in behind you though. I assumed the pair of you would be tied at the hip now that you've got him back here."
"While we were in Ealdor I requested that Hunith come here to live. He offered himself up to help her to her new room, most likely in an effort to avoid me, but he can't do that forever."
"Avoid you?"
Looking up from sifting through the stray paper work on his desk, trying to make sense of it all, he nods.
"Last night, he was acting strangely, so I took him down to the lake we had made camp by. We skipped rocks, wrestled a bit, and then ended up star gazing. At one point, I had glanced over at him and he looked distraught. Before I even had a chance to ask, he was up trying to get away from me. I tried to find out what had upset him, but he refused to talk about it. He allowed me to hold him, whilst falling asleep, but as far as conversation goes, he has avoided it at every turn since."
"That's very odd."
"He has been rather melancholy this year. Which I can understand as to why, now. He seemed ecstatic from the moment I arrived to see him in Ealdor though, so it was hardly noticeable again until last night."
"Hmm. Well, as you said, he can't avoid you forever. I'm sure he'll speak about it when he feels ready to. Perhaps last night was just not the time?"
"Maybe so. I'd like to think that we've come to a point where he can be more transparent with me. For all the talks we've had in regards to our thoughts or emotions, he has heard a good deal more about mine than I ever have of his. He keeps his opinions of himself or his circumstances close to his breast, whereas in regards to anything else, he is as forthcoming as Gwaine about his blatant alcohol abuse."
Moving to Arthur's right side, Gwen places her hands comfortingly on his arm.
"Perhaps what Merlin needs is time. I imagine that given recent events, he is still processing the sudden changes to his life. The whole of his recovery time, he either had a book in his hand or spoke with anyone within the parameters of his chamber, from what I understand."
"Hunith mentioned he had rarely slept, and kept himself busy the whole time he was staying there, as well."
Sifting through parchment still, the vision of Merlin's pain so thoroughly present in his eyes continues to pierce his concentration.
"It seems to me that he's purposely avoiding introspection, for one reason or another."
"I think you're onto something, Gwen," Arthur states, collecting a bundle of papers and tossing it to the far left corner of his desk for further review later.
Sitting back, momentarily, an idea occurs to him. Rising to his feet, a kiss to Gwen, and he is out the door once more.
Elsewhere in the castle, Merlin has begun unpacking Hunith's possessions by hand, despite her fussing over him for doing so.
"Merlin, darling, there's really no need for you to help me now. Arthur has made certain that I want for nothing."
At the mention of the King of Camelot, a bashful grin graces Merlin's facial structure.
"I'm really glad that you're here Mum," he replies, continuing to help sort her through her belongings.
"So am I, Merlin," she responds, shaking her head at his unwillingness to cease his piddling.
Silence engulfs their day, as the sorcerer waives off her light hearted protests against his aid. Some time later, when nearly everything is unpacked and put away, a knock sounds at the door. When Merlin moves to open it in his mother's stead, he finds himself face to face with Geraint. The displeased look on his face is enough for the warlock to know that Arthur must have sent him. Merlin feels a slight bit of pity for the man. Not enough though that it displeases him to see the foolhardy knight thrown into a situation that might humble him even the slightest bit.
"The King has requested that you and your Mother join he and the Queen for an evening meal, if it so pleases you both," he informs, a glimmer of a sneer in his eyes.
"Thank you, Geraint. You can tell him we'll be there shortly," Merlin responds, biting his lip to keep from laughing at the sudden change in circumstance.
Nodding, the shorter blond turns on his heels, clearly displeased.
Once the door is shut, Merlin pivots around to find his mother regarding him.
"That man did not seem to like you much."
Laughing, Merlin responds, as he shuts the drawer in which he had been putting away her clothes, "He probably never will, truth be told. Arthur caught him wrongfully assaulting me during a training session one day, and has not let up on punishments for him since then."
"That would do it, I suppose. If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"
"It's nothing to worry about, Mum. He stepped on my hand, but I put it right shortly after. He might have gotten in a swing or two, if I were so inclined to let him, but I never had a chance to make that choice. Arthur stepped in, and then that was that."
A comfortable silence settles between the two for a moment before Hunith states aloud, "Arthur cares a great deal for you, doesn't he?"
Looking up to meet his mother's warm gaze, another blush flurries over his cheeks.
"If you're asking, I doubt that I need to elaborate, Mum."
The sudden resistance to explanation is all that Hunith requires for her to know that whatever Arthur's feelings towards Merlin are, they are surely returned by her son.
"We best not be late for dinner. Fond of you or not, it's rude to be tardy," she lightly chastises, rising from the wooden chair she had occupied for the better part of the evening so far.
"Me, late?" he gestures to himself dramatically, "Never!"
The waggle of his eyebrows and intonation both tell Hunith the answer to his statement is quite the contrary. Sighing, she shakes her head and leads the way out of her new room.
Outside of the Great Hall some minutes later, they are met by Arthur and Gwen, who are both patiently waiting for them. When Merlin spies the King, he finds himself being studied intensely, before the light blue eyes shift to greet Hunith.
"Before we sit down for our meal, I wonder if I might borrow Merlin for a moment. There's something that I think he should see before we dine. Would that be alright with you two ladies?" he asks, glancing between his wife and Hunith.
Merlin is certain that Arthur had told Gwen about whatever he has planned, because with a warm smile, she immediately agrees. Hunith does so straight after, giving Arthur a large grin, before allowing Gwen to lead her to where she shall be seated to eat supper. Concurrently, Arthur diverts Merlin's attention to follow him in the opposite direction of where Hunith and Gwen had gone. Suspiciously, Merlin trails after his King.
"Arthur, can't this wait until later?"
"It most likely could, but I'd rather it didn't."
"Where are we going?" Merlin queries, still following behind Arthur as he presses forward.
"Follow me, and you'll see."
Dissolving into quiet grumblings, Merlin does, stopping only when they arrive in front of a door entirely foreign to him. Expectantly, Arthur gestures for the sorcerer to open the door, which he does in confusion. When his sight into the room becomes unhindered, he finds himself in a large chamber, much like Gaius' own in a different area of the castle. Scattered around the room is various furniture, with a large ornate desk at the very back of it. Turning to look at the blond, he gestures at the room.
"What's all this then?" the sorcerer demands.
"Your new work space," Arthur informs nonchalantly.
"Mine?" Merlin whispers incredulously, glancing back to survey the space once again.
"Yes, yours. With your appointment as Court Sorcerer, as well as Magical Magistrate, you will have a lot of extra duties on your hands. You need a space of your own now, just as Gaius has his."
"I'm not even sure what else to say, except, thank you, Arthur," Merlin admits, still at a slight loss for words.
"You're welcome. Now, as much as I wish to tarry here, I believe we have people waiting on us to commence the evening meal."
"So we do," Merlin replies, stepping out last to close the door behind them.
When Merlin and Arthur enter the dining hall, the warlock is not prepared to be met with an elaborate feast, as well as the whole of Camelot's court. However, that is exactly what he finds.
"Geraint made it seem as though it would just be the four of us dining together tonight," Merlin states accusingly.
"So he is good for something then," Arthur murmurs, more to himself than Merlin.
Looking around, Merlin becomes aware that throughout the whole room, there is only one open chair. The spot in question is directly next to Arthur's right hand. Beside him, the King is glancing at him eagerly, waiting for him to walk to his clearly designated seat. In the back of Merlin's mind, alarms sound, as the whole of the room follows not just the King's movements, but his own as well. When they reach the head of the table, Arthur pulls out Merlin's chair for him, which he seats himself in even more reluctantly, before being pushed in by the King himself.
"Hunith, it pleases me greatly for you to take the seat beside Merlin's right hand. You are single handedly responsible for raising this man, and I can think of no one I'd like more to take that spot next to the guest of honor than you," the King says, while watching Merlin's emotions morph from worried to horrified.
"Thank you, Arthur," she beams, ignoring her son's indignation.
"Guest of what?" Merlin sputters, regarding Arthur ever more distrustfully now.
"You heard me, Merlin. You may not admit that you deserve at least one feast in your honor, but that will not stop me from having one occur. Now, if you would be so kind as to oblige me this night of revelry in your name, you will continue to remain seated by my right hand, where you belong."
Heat rises in his cheeks at the clear implication in Arthur's words, despite only a select few being privy to them being said. The excitement in his eyes is what makes Merlin cave quickly, more so than anything else. Nodding, he faces the rest of the room, promptly.
"Now that our guest of honor has arrived, we may begin our evening," Arthur begins, addressing every single person in the room.
"Firstly, I should let it be known that this man beside me has pleaded countless times for a night like this to be nothing more than a fanciful thought, rather than an actual event. This has only cemented my belief further that it should take place. Secondly, from this moment forward, I expect him to be given the respect that another member of Camelot's court would be. Although he may not yet be titled, he is by far the bravest man I have ever known, and has served our kingdom with due diligence. Merlin deserves to be commended for his efforts, and his bravery in the face of such strong adversity. This leads me to my final announcement. In honor of all that he has done for me, as well as Camelot, I shall be hosting a tournament in his name. Once the tournament has ended, with a victor crowned, a ceremony of greater importance will be held. In a fortnight, Merlin will publicly become Camelot's Court Sorcerer and Magical Magistrate. Now, in honor of this man's feats, let us dine together, and be grateful that surprises come in all forms."
Seating himself once more, Arthur is met with an approving nod from Gwen, and a gaping Merlin.
"You might find yourself encumbered with flies if you choose to leave your mouth open much longer, Merlin," Arthur murmurs.
Shutting his mouth, indeed, Merlin remains silent through most of the meal. In truth, he is not sure what exactly he can say. Gaius, who is seated not far from the rest of them, is beaming at him and Arthur as well. Knowing that the brunet is not one to enjoy being caught off guard too much, the King leaves him be, allowing him to speak only if he wishes to.
Wine flows in ample amounts, and even though he is given the opportunity, Merlin turns each offer down. Nearly everyone else in the hall does just the opposite though, and he finds himself enjoying the sight of those he knows best allowing themselves to let loose just a bit. Other than Hunith, every single person in the room has been a part of the castle for ages, so they all have a kinship with one and other in some form. Even certain counselors who are not a part of the knights are seen downing more than a goblet or two of the sweet yet tangy mead proffered to them.
Next to him, Arthur too has chosen to stave away from drinking himself into a less than sober state, as have Gwen and Hunith. Gaius, however, does just the opposite. Hours later, Arthur orders a few of the more sober knights to help the elderly Court Physician back to his chambers. At her brother's antics, Hunith merely shakes her head, before bidding them a good evening shortly after. Though Merlin wishes to walk her to her room, the hand resting on his thigh gives him cause to consider other when the plates have all been cleared away, and Gwaine, Leon, and Percival in particular have clapped him on the shoulder or the back, does Merlin consider retiring for the evening as well.
Rising from his chair, the brunet notes that Arthur and Guinevere follow directly behind him. A sudden thought occurs to him, which makes him turn around, nearly causing both the King and Queen to smack directly into him, as well as each other.
"Is everything alright Merlin?" Guinevere queries, confusion on her every feature.
Before Merlin can pose the question, however, Arthur is reaching for his hand.
"You're not a servant anymore, Merlin. You are free to sleep wherever you choose."
Knitting his eyebrows together, he looks from Gwen to Arthur.
"Are you saying what I think you are?" he demands, looking between both of them again.
"Did you really think I would lie with you a few times and then be done with you? Don't be daft, Merlin. I love you, Merlin, just as much as I love Gwen. Were it reversed, I would not expect her to sleep alone either. Unless you have some sort of objection, I have every intention of you taking up a portion of our bed from this night on. Guinevere here agrees with me."
"It's just-"
"It's what, Merlin?" the blond demands softly, placing a kiss on his hand.
"Is it wise to be so open about such sleeping arrangements?"
"Anyone who could possibly care is inebriated or retired for the evening, for one. For two, if you think this is the most ludicrous bedding arrangement you've ever heard of, then you simply have turned a blind eye to far worse that happens in other kingdoms. Some monarchs bed their sisters!" he states, instantly shuddering at the thought shortly after.
Turning to Gwen, Merlin scrutinizes her, before asking, "This doesn't bother you?"
"If it did, I never would have suggested you relay your feelings to Arthur in the first place," she informs him.
A sudden swelling in his heart, not unlike what he has felt before for Arthur, blooms up inside of him like a flower reaching for the sun. Engulfing her in his arms, as Arthur had when he arrived at Hunith's previous place of residence, Merlin swings her about the corridor. When he places her back on the ground, her face flushed now, he bends down to plant a kiss on her left cheek.
"You beautiful, wonderful woman. Thank you for, well really, everything," he gushes, then helping her fix her hair which had been somewhat mussed up by his actions seconds ago.
"You are more than welcome," Gwen murmurs, glancing up at Merlin with nothing but respect and admiration.
From behind them, Arthur witnesses the exchange with amusement. While he is aware of what each of them mean to him, he hadn't stopped to ponder what the two could feel for each other. Although the situation is a unique one at best, he hopes that they will all be able to find a common ground with each other, founded on communication and mutual understanding. Watching the pair together, he wonders, could he be lucky enough to find that the two greatest loves of his life love each other as well?
When Guinevere had betrayed him before, there had been no communication, and he had been made a fool of in front of every single person whom he had ever known. She had kept the nature of her feelings for his former knight to herself, and despite the fact that dark magic had a hand in his false return, it had still burned him that she could have considered going behind his back at all. She had made a mistake, which she had fully admitted before. All of the trust he ever placed with her had been lost that night, and only slowly has it returned, whether others are aware of that or not. The emotions inside of him now though are a far cry from disgust, but rather buoyant happiness, verging on hope.
He is soon brought from the depths of his reverie by the discovery that both Merlin and Gwen are staring at him, wondering where his mind has gone. Smiling at them, praying that this will reassure each that everything is alright, he reaches for Guinevere's hand.
"Now that we have all agreed to residing in the same bed, can we venture that way? It's been a long day, and I would like to catch more than a few winks of sleep, if that's alright with both of you?" Arthur queries.
Intertwining his own fingers with Gwen's, Merlin glances over with a slight cheeky smirk, "Lead the way, Sire."