Thank you so much to my amazing readers and reviewers, as well as those who dropped by to wheedle me for an update :p Hope this chapter cheers you up! Well... at least writing it cheered me up...

DISCLAIMER: Nah, still a far way from it.

Chapter 9

Arthur closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. A vein throbbed warningly in his head.

Of course. Of course he was wrong again. Of course it wouldn't be Merlin, because NOTHING ever went according to plan!

Arthur was looking as if he were going to lose his temper, which in a way he really was. The long line of contestants stared confusedly at him, wondering why their crown prince was looking so anguished after selecting his favorite breakfast tray. Arthur tried to force a smile, but he could tell from their reactions that it looked very wrong on his face. Still he was determined to ignore the brewing awkwardness in the room and proceeded to address his 'most hopeful' contestant.

"I-I am… overjoyed!" he proclaimed as he walked towards the boy.

It was evident, however, that said emotion was the least plausible one he was feeling given his rigid expression. Instinctively the boy shrunk back into the shadows, causing Arthur to pause in mid-stride. Every eye was on him now, wondering about his next move. Merlin was no exception, he was staring at Arthur with a long-sufferingly clueless expression on his face. Arthur glanced down at the boy whose gaze was now fixed permanently on the floor.

"What is your name?" Arthur demanded.

"G-Gerald my lord" the boy forced the squeak past his throat.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to summon more patience from his fast depleting store. "Gerald," he repeated. "Did you select the – uh – " Arthur craned his neck to see past the bunch of leafy grapes on the tray. " - …ham, and eggs, and grapes yourself?" Upon closer inspection, there wasn't even ham, Arthur noted crossly. Gerald of course didn't notice a thing.

"Yes sire" the boy said with his head bowed.

Here, across the hall Merlin cleared his throat slightly. Arthur looked up with a frown but otherwise he gave no indication to having heard Merlin. "Are you absolutely certain?" he asked the boy again. Gerald shifted a bit but replied the same. "Absolutely sire."

"Are you really really certain?" Arthur persisted, peering closely at Gerald. The boy was beginning to look rather alarmed. "You received no outside help at all? No hints from other servants, perhaps?"

His attention was focused solely on the boy before him, he almost didn't notice when Merlin himself suddenly spoke up.

"Does this mean we're doing it again?"

Arthur's eyes snapped up to find Merlin, but the other was still under the cloak of the shadows. Arthur fought to keep a neutral pondering expression even though his insides were soaring at the suggestion. Yes! Yes we are! He shouted in his mind. Of course, a single selection didn't mean anything. He needed to find a servant that was well-rounded in all areas! The smug feeling nestled comfortably in his chest, and Arthur once more opened his mouth.

Before he could say anything however, Rick beat him to it and ruthlessly dashed his hopes. "Do not interrupt the prince!" the man snapped harshly at Merlin, glowering at the other fiercely. "The prince has decided to make his selections as such and it is not up to you to question him!"

The sharp reprimand rang loud like the crack of a whip across the silence of the hall. The words shriveled and died in Arthur's throat. Merlin however persisted fearlessly, and Arthur almost grew fond of the boy. Almost. "I just happened to notice that the prince didn't seem very happy with the results," Merlin pointed out.

This time the boy – Gerald - looked up to meet Arthur's eyes. He was clearly hurt by the accusations, and Arthur was suddenly assaulted with the same feeling he'd experienced when he was talking to not-George minutes prior.

Why did his second life have to be so difficult?

"Gerald is good" his mouth blurted before the boy could burst into tears. Was he imagining it, or was it Merlin's turn to look like a kicked puppy? Arthur rolled his eyes at the utter ridiculousness of the current situation. "But," he went on, "I need a servant who is capable of doing more – things – and I think Gerald is too young for that."

The line of contestants looked at him in utter confusion. Merlin's expression clearly read, "What – things?!"

"I need a servant that can spar," Arthur said randomly, purposely picking something he was certain the young boy could not do. Gerald's eager face fell. Arthur almost felt sorry for the boy until Gerald opened his mouth.

"But the knights can spar with you sire" Gerald said almost pleadingly.

"No," Arthur disagreed.

He wanted a servant that would remain steadfastly loyal in any situation they would come across. He wanted someone he could talk to, someone who treated him as Arthur and not a prince, someone he trusted and someone he knew. Then he realized his statement left much to be unclear and hurriedly backtracked, "Yes of course, but I meant I want my servant to be good at sparring. He must also be good at polishing," he added on the spur of the moment. What else couldn't Gerald do? "He must be able to handle dangerous situations, because it is quite common to encounter threats during patrols."

Arthur turned to Gerald, who was looking hopelessly crushed, and his accursed conscience quailed a little once more. "Perhaps in a few more years," he added, going a bit soft at the end. "Someone in his twenties should be ideal. You see, I need someone who can carry heavy chainmail, um – be decent at fighting and complete many chores which may be rather – strenuous - without prompting. On time," this was directed pointedly at Merlin. Arthur rested a kindly hand on the boy's shoulder and arranged something that felt like a smile on his face. "While I appreciate your efforts, Gerald, I think you're far too – young for this job."

Unbeknownst to him, however, Merlin was supposedly not in his twenties either, and as Arthur was about to find out - Merlin was already rapidly losing his patience.

"So are we going to start a second round?" Merlin snapped, suddenly, heedless of Rick's sharp glare. The torrent of words fell past his lips in a single breath so fast as if he'd been reciting them in his head for a long time. "First it's 'who can pick Arthur's favorite breakfast', next is 'who can spar Arthur the longest', I suppose the third selection would be something along the lines of 'who polishes most of Arthur's boots' or 'who punches holes in Arthur's belt with greatest efficiency!" Merlin ranted.

The hall stared, scandalized. The last bit was so utterly random and illogical that it left Arthur sputtering and floundering for something to say. Rick was the first to recover and he stalked across the room towards Merlin furiously, but this time the prince beat him to it.

"Well it doesn't matter" Arthur managed to snap back, his own temper at all his time-travelling difficulties flaring up as well, "because no matter what the category is you'll be at the very bottom of the list!"

Then, a full second later, Arthur's brain caught up with what he'd just said.

Oh look, a forcedly calm voice spoke in his mind. Yet another disaster.

"Well," suddenly, to Arthur's sudden flash of horror, a new voice spoke up. "He's on the very top of mine."

He could have guessed who it was the moment she entered the hall, but as it was he was still taken by surprise. Arthur spun round so fast to face the newcomer he nearly overturned the plate of leafy grapes, and it was at that moment that he vehemently decided that he hated breakfast the most out of all his daily meals.

Morgana herself stalked across the hall, her measured footsteps echoing silently around them. There was a small smile playing on her lips, but there was no mistaking the derision dripping off her tone. At the mere sight of her a sense of bad erupted in his chest and expanded to his stomach where something coiled up in dread. Her sudden appearance could not mean anything good.

Figures, Arthur thought darkly to himself. The day before I had to act like a bloody Seer for her, and now she's gone and turned her back on me.

Arthur facial muscles were already too taut to be pulled into anything that might resemble a positive expression, but it was just as well for Morgana gave him no chance to speak. She crossed the distance between them swiftly before turning back to look at Merlin. "Trust me, it's no pity you won't have to serve under Arthur Pendragon" she said addressing Merlin, but her eyes were trained on the prince. She tore her gaze away to give Merlin with a dazzling smile. "You can work under my service instead."

Her service. Her servce.

HUH?!

Arthur stared at her, thunderstruck. It didn't even make sense.

"Why on earth would you need his service?!" Arthur interrupted aggressively. His voice had risen to almost a hysterical shout. Morgana remained unmoved, and in response she raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"I handle swords and armour just as you do Arthur. Gwen can only do so much – it's the least I can do for her to provide a little help." She then flashed Merlin a dazzling smile, who up till then had been standing frozen in spot. "I've heard about Merlin from Gwen," she continued, "he seems to be a good friend."

Arthur stared in open dismay, his eyes wide as saucers. He was in such a state of disbelief that he could have sworn black spots were beginning to pop up in his peripheral vision. This couldn't be happening. He was supposed to fix things in this universe. But now even before any villain had arrived in Camelot, everything was already careening rapidly on a single track to disaster! He opened his mouth to say something, but the only words that popped to his mind were curses and were of no help for his mission.

"That doesn't even make sense!" Arthur blurted. Even his powerful I-am-the-King voice had temporarily deserted him and left him with a very undignified squeak. But Morgana chose that moment to approach Merlin, and she tilted her head slightly, considering him. Merlin was looking just as lost as Arthur felt. "Would you take the offer?" Morgana asked him, her tone deceptively soft.

Was that even a question! Arthur wanted to rage. It was the same thing as Uther ordering Merlin to be his servant all over again. It wasn't like Merlin could refuse, if he wanted to! But now Merlin was to be handed over to Morgana. Morgana! The evil dark sorceress who took over Camelot and razed Albion to dust! The rational part of his mind urged him to say something, anything, to snatch Merlin over, but to his mounting frustration the practical side of his brain remained a complete loss. Arthur worked his mouth desperately to make some sort of noise, but once more there was something stuck at the back of his throat and his vocal chords seemed paralyzed in place.

In his panic, Arthur flailed his arm wide and successfully managed to knock over a goblet. For a moment his heart lifted slightly. He imagined it spinning off the edge of the table and falling onto the floor with a terrific clang! Red wine sploshed everywhere. Everyone's eye would be on him, Morgana's dress would hopefully be soaked, she would get enraged and Merlin would be forgotten.

With the way his luck had been going however, everything happened unfortunately smoothly. The goblet happened to be empty, and the force wasn't enough to propel it off the edge. It rolled to a slow halt out of Arthur's reach, the silent clatter well muffled by the tablecloth. No one paid Arthur any attention, and Morgana and everyone else continued looking at Merlin expectantly.

"I-I would be – um – very honored, my – er – lady," Merlin said after a pause, extremely awkwardly.

Arthur felt his spine cave involuntarily and the table rushed up to greet him. His shoulders sagged. Goodbye Albion.


Gaius stared at him, both white bushy eyebrows raised beyond his hairline. His mouth was pulled into a perfectly neutral straight line, but Merlin could feel the disbelieving vibes coming off the court physician.

"So you didn't get the job," Gaius said in conclusion, breaking the silence.

"No, yeah" Merlin affirmed, looking just as beleaguered himself. "At least, I got a job it wasn't the job. I'm in charge of Lady Morgana's horses, and sword, and chainmail I think. And helping Gwen. Actually I'm not quite sure why she wants to hire me either – "

"Well for once I am just as lost as you are" Gaius said, giving his ward a strange look. The frown he'd worn from the moment Merlin had stepped into his chambers had not disappeared. "There really isn't a thing you can do without turning it into something completely different from what it's supposed to be, is there?"

Merlin took a deep breath as if to launch into a defensive explanation before he exhaled loudly and let his raised hands fall to his sides. "It just – happens" he said sounding rather miserable. "The way she phrased it, it wasn't like I could turn her down anyway, and Arthur was definitely not going to give me the job. Honestly though given his personality, it just might be a blessing in disguise!" Merlin's tone got a sulky edge to it towards the end. He looked around the physician's quarters as if searching for an outlet for his frustration, before automatically reaching for the pestle left on the table and began pounding.

"Merlin" Gaius began in reprimand, but his ward wasn't finished yet.

"He was behaving like a spoilt, arrogant – clotpole!" Merlin declared, still in ranting mode. "I got him lamb slices, I made sure they were medium rare, I grilled them just the way he likes it but no! Now he decides that he likes grapes. Grapes!" Merlin threw his hands in the air. "Since when did he ever like grapes!" he bellowed, his voice raising.

Gaius opened his mouth to say something, but Merlin was quite far from being finished. "And after that he decides, oh he wants a servant in his twenties. Yes, that should be ideal! And after all the ridiculous requirements he finally decides that he wants a servant who can spar. WHO needs a servant that can spar?" Merlin shouted the last bit so loudly Gaius expected Arthur himself to burst through the door.

Deciding he had allowed it to go on long enough, Gaius seized the chance to cut in when Merlin temporarily ran out of breath.

"I thought you were adamant that things turned out for the better," he pointed out in a sharp voice, eyes trained sternly on his ward who seemed worked up enough to start another torrent of ranting.

"Well" Merlin said. Then the breath whooshed out of his lungs and Merlin's spine visibly dipped. His lips suddenly clammed shut of their own accord, allowing only a single syllable past them. "Yeah."

There was a moment's pause in which Gaius looked at Merlin as though he were a lost cause, and Merlin finally gave up the battle with the pestle and dropped it back onto the table. Merlin's shoulders remained slumped in defeat. He looked around for a while, as if uncertain what he was going to do with himself, then he turned and headed out for the door once more, mutely.

X

Late at night, Merlin climbed up to the top of the parapet where he had told Arthur he was returning to Ealdor for good what felt like a whole lifetime ago. Sparkles dotted the night in a careless display of beauty, and the sky spread itself like a huge black canvas over Camelot. Merlin liked the dark, it felt like a huge blanket he could nestle in, and there were cloaks of the shadows everywhere he went, ready for him to melt into if the need ever arose. Perhaps it was borne of his habit of hiding who he was that now the night brought a sense of security.

In a rare moment of feeling inexplicably daring, Merlin climbed over to the edge and sat there, legs dangling over the high wall. Then carefully, gingerly, he stood on his legs. All the same he shuffled back a few steps so there was a safe distance between him and the precipice before he did. He wasn't suicidal.

From where he stood Merlin could see the forest spread out before him, darker and denser than the sky. He wondered if the Druids were still out there, if Arthur had already been sent to destroy one of their camps. He tried to envision what would happen if he presented himself to them or asked Iseldir if he could stay, for once, among their people. Mordred would possibly be there as well, and Mordred's father would be alive to coach the boy. Perhaps he would teach Mordred to grow into his powers, and instill in him an unshakable belief of the coming of the once and future king.

Merlin's lips twisted at the irony. Somehow he wouldn't be surprised if Arthur turned out to be a disappointment, and Albion became naught but fantasy once more.

"Life is certainly very twisted" he said to himself with a sigh, straining his eyes in hopes of catching the faint light glowing at the horizon. At least that would mean dawn was upon him, and he would have chores to do. He hated the blank meaningless empty staring at the ceiling, thinking about all sorts of thoughts and regrets while sleep evaded him still. Until now he had no idea why Morgana had suddenly decided to hire him into her service, but he didn't have a good feeling about it. There was something deeper, something in her eyes that probed for answers when she looked at him, and Merlin did not understand it. What could she possibly have heard or known about him to merit her interest? Had she realized her powers early in the timeline, and what did she want with him?

She'd mentioned Gwen, but Merlin doubted that was the whole case. It was a disconcerting decision he had to make once more: to regard Morgana as a potential friend, someone to help, a sorceress teetering at the edge between good and evil or just a lady he served. Merlin felt torn in so many directions, he suddenly wished for Kilgarrah to be around, even just to hear about useless prophecies of doom or lectures about his destiny. At least the dragon was the only one would understand that he came from another universe.

The night wind rustled against the leaves, and Merlin heaved another heavy sigh before deciding to return to the warmth Gaius' chambers. He would probably learn about Morgana's plans for him come the morning, there was no use worrying about it. Moving to step down from the parapet, Merlin raised his head to take one last look at the sky. And it was right at that moment that the waiting figure behind the shadows pounced, and an iron grip wrapped itself around his waist and threw Merlin harshly to the floor.

A/N: Yes, it's another update from me. Much has happened in between my last update and this: stressful exams, IELTS, trips, and I've just gotten sick :(. It's the regular bout really: phlegm, dry throat, headache: I already know what medicine to expect from the doctors tomorrow, so I'm not looking forwards to it. Hope you liked the chapter, thanks so much to my amazing readers! Do review on the way out? :P

Oh, and cookies to those who can guess what happened to Merlin! Go on, guess, I want to read your speculations! :D