Disclaimer:I own nothing in this marvelous universe.

Author's Note: Okay, so this has definitely grown to at least three chapters in length, quite possibly four _ . Seriously, I guess I am having far too much fun to stop working on this particular installment of A Man's Measure, so you can expect at least one more chapter out for this particular story. I hope I am able to do it justice!

Reviewers:All 44 of you, thank you!

Rating: T

Summary: In which everyone except Merlin and Arthur have realized how close the two boys have grown over the course of the past two years…(Friendshipfic. Bromance.)

"Speech"

Personal Thoughts/Memories (Italics)

.:A Man's Measure:.

By Sentimental Star

V: Lady Hawk's Hatching (Part 2)

Leon did not quite hide his slightly indulgent gaze as he observed his prince and his prince's manservant. He'd be the first to admit that Merlin's presence in Prince Arthur's life had done wonders for His Majesty's disposition and happiness.

Today, for example.

After the events of the previous two days, Leon had begun to fear some irrevocable damage had been done to the prince, of whom (much to his surprise) he had grown quite fond. He had even feared the Crown Prince would never smile or laugh again (and he already did so rarely enough).

Today, because of Merlin, he had done both.

Little wonder, then, that the fondness he had begun to develop for his liege, had swiftly extended to his liege's manservant, as well.

True, Prince Arthur would still have to grapple with recent events—Sir Boris's and Sir Kay's altercation had not helped matters any, either. But with the odd wisdom that came to him so innately at moments like this, Leon acknowledged that he knew no one better than Merlin to help the prince regain his equilibrium.

A whicker and a neigh, as well as a strong nudge from a warm, wet nose in his shoulder, caused Leon to quietly laugh, "Shall we send them off, my friend?" he murmured to the noble beast.

An emphatic whinny seemed to indicate the Crown Prince's stallion agreed with him.

Fondly patting the charger's neck, Leon turned back to the two young men watching horse and human's interaction curiously. Gracing them with a small, warm grin, he observed softly, "Your Highness's father will want a report of this morning's training."

Prince Arthur's bright countenance dimmed, "Thank you, Leon, I will see to it presently."

"You misunderstand me, Sire," Leon interrupted gently, "I merely thought to inform you. I would be happy to present the report to the king in Your Majesty's stead."

The slow dawning of hope in his young lord's face elicited a pleased smile on Leon's lips, "Truly? I would not ask it of you, Leon."

"It is of little trouble, My Lord," Leon assured him softly, still smiling. He winked at Merlin (who started, then suppressed a satisfied grin), "And I do believe I may be able to convince Your Highness's father to take over this afternoon's training, as well—My Lord Uther confided to me recently that he missed it."

It took a moment for the Crown Prince to comprehend his head knight's offer; when he did, Leon caught in a breath at the most glorious grin that spread across his young monarch's face, "You are truly a boon, Leon. Let's go, Merlin!"

Leon's face colored deeply as the prince swung himself up onto the back of his steed and held his hand down to his manservant, "As you say, My Liege," he murmured, holding the animal's head steady and burying his embarrassment in the sanctuary of duty.

Merlin grinned at him, gently tangling his fingers with Prince Arthur's. As the older boy helped him swing himself up onto the saddle behind him, the manservant warmly regarded his master's knight, "Thank you, Leon."

For some reason, Merlin's gratitude embarrassed him almost as much as Prince Arthur's. Genially, Leon waved him off, cheeks red, "As I said, it is little trouble." He relaxed out of his rather formal stance, "You may find the kitchen staff amenable to packing a luncheon, Merlin. I trust you are aware of His Majesty's needs. Shall I expect you back by supper, Sire?" directing that last part to the Crown Prince.

Arthur grinned down at him brightly, "Yes, Leon, you may."

Leon coughed in an attempt to conceal his laughter when the prince, once aware that Merlin had precariously balanced himself behind him, turned an incredulous eye to said manservant, "Very well, Your Majesty."

Bowing, Leon left the two boys to their own devices, smothering an errant chuckle when he heard, if faintly and over his shoulder, "Unless you wish to make a premature visit to Gaius, Merlin, I suggest you hold on."

IOIOIOIOIOI

At least the bloody prat warned me, Merlin grumbled inwardly, clutching tight to Arthur's waist as they clattered across the cobblestoned courtyard of the castle.

He could not complain much otherwise: a day off, a break from the castle and all his princely duties, was exactly what Arthur needed to start healing from his encounter with Morgause.

(That it was his day off, too, never occurred to Merlin. Until all threats to Arthur's person were eliminated, he would never truly have 'a day off.')

Luckily, most of the castle seemed to have chosen this day to be busily engaged with their own duties, and none (of whom the two boys were aware) saw the unheard of spectacle of Camelot's Crown Prince riding double with his manservant.

Until they reached the kitchens, that is, and found one of the cooks who had been in the castle's service since Arthur's mother had taken her on over eighteen years prior about to lift a flour sack.

The older woman promptly stilled upon sighting the prince and his manservant, and straightened with a creaking of aging joints. Familiar enough with the golden-haired Crown Prince (and the changes said Crown Prince had undergone since his current manservant's arrival), she simply gave a mildly nonplussed set of blinks as the two boys clattered to a stop in front of her and curtsied: "Your Highness," she murmured.

Arthur smiled warmly at her, reining in his steed, "Margot," he acknowledged quietly. "Might we trouble you for a bit of luncheon to take out with us? Merlin can help you gather whatever you require."

Margot tilted her head thoughtfully, smiling, "I know jist the thing, Sire. 'Twere a fav'rite of yer mother's when she an' My Lord Uther went a larkin'."

Merlin silently wondered whether the cook caught the mixed look of pain (at the mention of his mother) and astonishment (at the thought of the stern, humorless Uther doing something as frivolous as "larkin'") that crept into Arthur's blue eyes. Certainly, she could not, as he did, see the older boy's hands clench around the reins as Merlin slid off the stallion's back to stand with her.

"Thank you, Margot," the prince responded softly, dismounting himself with the clear intention of waiting. "I will require double today, if we have enough."

Merlin—mystified—raised an eyebrow, "Hungry, My Lord?"

Arthur ignored him, patting the stallion's neck.

Frowning in absolute puzzlement, Merlin finally shrugged and gave it up as a bad job. Particularly since Margot's own eyebrow had shot nearly to her hairline and a smile twitched at the far corners of her lips upon receiving that request. She curtsied again, "'Tis no trouble 't all, Your Majesty. I'll see it done." She turned to Merlin, brown eyes sparking faintly with mirth, "Git along now, lad," she scolded him warmly, shooing the younger boy in front of her.

"Yer too thin by half," she added when he moved to pick up the flour sack for her and found himself shepherded past it.

Catching sight of Arthur's poorly concealed amusement as he watched his long-suffering manservant herded into the cook's domain like cattle, Merlin shot an eye roll at said royal prat and resigned himself to a job well done as the pained look drained from his master's blue eyes.

IOIOIOIOIOI

When Merlin emerged from the kitchens some ten minutes later, heavily laden with luncheon, he found a red-eyed Arthur sitting on a large bundle of straw and staring morosely out into the distance.

Perhaps he should have felt more startled upon making that discovery than he actually did, but he had almost expected it.

So he elected the route he normally did when aware of Arthur's turmoil and the prince's desire to hide it: "Lazy prat," he kept his voice intentionally light and teasing, "can't actually be bothered to move, can you? I thought knights were supposed to be chivalrous."

He deliberately ignored the jump Arthur gave at his remark and steadfastly pretended not to notice the hasty scrubbing said prince's eyes underwent as the older boy quickly stood. Moving towards the stallion, he carefully loaded up (with a slight struggle) the saddlebags Leon had thoughtfully provided, "You could help me, you know!"

A garbled chuckle was his reward, "Unless you have somehow become a lady, Merlin, chivalry does not apply to you."

Merlin grabbed the stallion's reins and untied them from where Arthur had hooked their leather around the kitchen door's handle, "I thought chivalry also meant giving what help you can, to whoever needs it."

Arthur walked until he drew up even with Merlin and grinned faintly into his manservant's eyes, "Then I will be sure to reference that in the speech I give at your knighting, since you have apparently made it your mission to help me out in any way you can today. Do not underestimate me, Merlin; I know what you are trying to do."

Slow heat and deep color crept into Merlin's cheeks. Clearing his throat, he glanced away from the sparkling blue eyes of his prince in an attempt to conceal his pleased embarrassment as they began to walk, "Aren't you supposed to be riding, Sir Knight?"

Arthur shrugged, a slight sheen of red highlighting his cheeks, "I would rather walk." He smirked, "Besides, it will give me time to elucidate on just what chivalry means and how it most certainly does not apply to my manservant."

Merlin rolled his eyes, lips twitching fondly, "You're horrible, Arthur."

IOIOIOIOIOI

No one stopped Merlin and Arthur on their journey from the castle and through the lower town, despite the curious, if stunned, glances their easy companionship drew as they walked. The younger boy could not tell if it bothered Arthur—the prince seemed intent on enjoying his rare afternoon of freedom far too much to worry about the rumors sure to circulate before nightfall.

Of course, he also had to jumpstart those rumors by mounting his charger (and expecting Merlin to mount behind him) in full view of the guards above the drawbridge.

"Come on."

Dubiously regarding Arthur's outstretched hand, Merlin demanded incredulously, "And have my neck snapped by your idea of a 'fun' ride? I beg mercy, My Lord."

Arthur rolled his eyes, unable to quite conceal the amused smirk tugging at his lips, "Merlin."

A whinny and a nudge from the stallion's warm nose caused Merlin to groan, and grab the older teenager's hand, allowing Arthur to heft him up into the saddle behind him, "I'd like to point out that I objected most strenuously to this particular mode of transportation, so you can explain to Gaius why my spinal cord is broken when we see him tonight."

Arthur snorted, "It will take too long to procure a horse from the stables for you, not to mention transferring the bags to your steed would take even longer, as I am certainly not carrying them. And I certainly will not allow you to walk, since, knowing you, you would probably do so straight into a bear trap or something similarly fatal."

In response, Merlin gave a half-hearted scowled, "I am humbled by your faith in my walking capabilities, Sire."

"Merlin?"

"Aye, My Liege?" his manservant returned ironically, expecting a 'shut up,' and receiving something else entirely.

Arthur smirked, "Hold on."

Merlin had barely grabbed Arthur's waist before said prince kicked his heels into the sides of his eagerly prancing stallion, shooting off towards the woods surrounding Camelot with the whistling wind in their ears.

End Lady Hawk's Hatching (Part 2)