The Bonds of Friendship

Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to the BBC, only the storyline is mine


An Unwelcomed Change


The normally dreary throne room was looking alive with silk banners, bold floral arrangements and a wide variety of luxury food which had a large enough capacity to feed the entire lower town of Camelot.

Sat around the thrust of polished oak tables were a collection of royals, dukes and duchesses and other high class members of the bordering societies. The men and women were all drawn into their individual conversations; laughing at snobbish jokes and cutting into each other's appearances or situations from afar, every spoken word had to be carefully thought through before it was presented as nobody knew what trivial information their dinner partner could use against them in future comings.

Arthur was slumped in his chair at the end of the high table, his boredom outdoing his expected dignity and grace in posture. The conversation around the prince was dull at best; as his father only felt a professional friendship with Cirion rather than a personal one he had only invited the lower classes of high society; in other terms, the most boring.

The prince gave a small nod and an unconvincing hum of interest at a Duke's theory on mushroom stems next to him, he didn't know how much more of the banquet he could take, and we haven't even got to the main yet!

As Arthur's levels of self-pity increased he felt his servant appear to his right side, "A change of wine sire?" Merlin asked in a polite tone, leaning into the prince as if trying to hear his reply among the noise although his actions actually to cause him to brush against his friend, or a change of conversation?

The prince smirked and Merlin felt the waves of thankfulness, oh but I was just about to discover the difference between double stemmed and single sliced mushrooms.

He let out a whispered chuckle and moved to pour the wine into the half empty goblet, well then, maybe I should just go back to the wall, I'm sure we could find something in common to discuss.

The boy laughed as Arthur grasped onto his tunic when he took a step towards the servant's wall and pulled him back behind his chair, moving the hand that wasn't holding a jug of wine to lean against his shoulder blade; the slight panic at the thought of having to continue talking to the enthusiastic Duke sweeping through the warlock's mind.

Now there's no need to be hasty, Arthur frantically thought, since you're here you might as well stay, plus I think you'd bore the wall to death.

Merlin gave his friend a sharp pinch in response; well you don't seem to mind my conversation, his mind sent out with a lace of smugness.

Arthur swatted the warlock's leg in retaliation, causing a few drops of the wine Merlin was holding to shower the neighbouring Duke. The pompous man swung around in rage and opened his mouth to shout at the clumsy servant but on catching the prince's warning expression quickly changed his mind and gave Merlin a tight smile before turning back to his bored wife.

Arthur burst out a snort laughter combination, oh if only you had poured the whole jug over his head, I think you'd be doing his wife a favour! Merlin rolled his eyes and smacked the laughing boy over the head before swiping a sausage off his overloaded plate despite the prince's mental whines, go and get your own food Merlin!

A few chairs down, Cirion sat at a tilted angle, leaning his chin on his left hand looking past the King of Camelot to observe the crown prince and his servant. The two boys seemed to be wrapped up in their own world of laughing and food stealing; the prince wasn't even taking notice of his guests who kept trying to call his attention.

The cruel faced King bit down a smirk at the proof of the 'golden boy's' weakness; now he had that, he had methods of revenge.

"This is a most honourable feast your majesty, I can hardly show my gratitude!" Cirion swept his arm across his body and gave a small nod to resemble a gracious bow; Uther turned to face his guest and inclined his head to show the gratitude was noted, "Do not worry Cirion, it was a well-deserved feast, I'm glad you are enjoying it."

Uther moved to join his previous conversation once more but Cirion quickly caught his arm and spoke with the words of a sly fox, "And I'm glad it's not only I who is enjoying this fine event." The man left his sentence open and a spark of victory flashed in his eyes as the high King slowly turned back to him.

"Is there someone else in particular that is taking pleasure from this feast as much as you?" Uther questioned in a wary voice from sensing an undertone to Cirion's statement.

The schemer flashed a wide smile and casually gestured in the prince's direction, "Well your son certainly seems to be having fun." He spoke lightly so to not draw any suspicion to his choice of topic and allowed himself a smirk at seeing the King's gaze harden when falling on his son and the servant who was now practically sitting on the arm of the prince's chair and casually eating from his plate with no objection from said prince.

Uther released a stern cough and averted his gaze from the scene, his voice tight as he replied to the satisfied King, "Arthur does have a habit of wanting all citizens to feel involved in festivities."

Cirion slowly nodded in agreement but ran a hand over his lips and pointed in the direction once more, crafting his tone to one that brought subtle doubt to the receiver; one of the many tones he had perfected in his years of workings among the royal classes, "I was told of your son's… fondness for his servant when I arrived but seeing it first hand is a moving thing, it's a rare sight to behold a friendship of such mixed classes to be allowed."

With this statement and the confirmation of Uther's battle of inner anger from his clenched jaw and darken gaze Cirion slipped into his next phase with an air of ignorance to the emotions he had brought on the King, "Anyway on the topic of servants, I've enquired about my need of one to your son and he agreed to take me to the servants quarters later," He tilted his head as if observing the room and added in an off-handed manner, "I actually tried to take his boy into my service first, but of course I didn't realise he was already taken on for duties –"

Uther knuckles cracked as his grip on the goblet tighten at the man's continuing sentences, he stared straight ahead as he hissed in a stern voice, "I'm sure my son can do without his servant for a few days, there'll be no need for you to visit the servant quarters later." Then the King drained his goblet in one large sweep and crashed it back onto the table; melting into a nearby conversation with a strained laugh. The man didn't notice Cirion's satisfied expression and predatory gaze that had slid to once again rest on the blonde prince.


Arthur woke to the sound of his door closing; he could hear a gentle scuffle of feet make their way around the room and a light tapping as objects were moved from their random positions on the floor to their rightful places on the furniture.

The prince grabbed his pillow and shoved it on top of his head; his sleepy mind just managing to wonder why Merlin was choosing this hour to be tidy. Just as he was about to tell his friend just what he thought of his early morning spring clean a sudden realisation came over him and he froze on the bed, that's not Merlin.

Arthur automatically scouted for his friend across the castle and felt him in the south wing on the top floor, he swiped over his presence in worry but he couldn't sense anything out of the ordinary; there was the normal fatigue even if it did feel slightly stronger yet again, but apart from that simply general emotions, although his levels of frustration seemed a bit higher, and was that a prickle of fear?

The prince felt a slight pressure on the end of his bed as a breakfast tray was set on the covers; as soon as the metal was placed Arthur had lunged at the person in his room and had them pushed into the wall by the throat.

A muddy brunette boy with a fully freckled face and dull grey eyes that were currently widened in fear shakily stared back at the prince, his trembling hands clinging into the prince's wrists, trying to stop them from putting any more pressure on his neck.

"Why's Merlin not here?" Arthur hissed at the frightened boy, his grip tightening as he spoke. The servant shook his head as much as he could and attempted to stammer an answer but the prince's hound like gaze had caught him and he couldn't think properly. As Arthur's hands forced even more pressure onto the boy when he failed to give him information a sudden sweep of tiredness overcame him and he collapsed to the floor, allowing the servant to run away from the prince's reach and hide behind the table at the other end of the room.

Arthur groaned and placed a hand on his head; he could hardly stand from the fatigue but as soon as it had come, it went and instead a blast of disappointment and reprimand hit him and the prince realised that Merlin had just sent his full fatigue levels at him as a way to rescue the young servant Arthur had unjustly attacked.

How can someone be that tired? Arthur crawled up onto his knees and stayed there, sending apologetic waves at his friend; I guess I was over-reacting by a bit. But that still didn't tell Arthur why his noble hearted friend wasn't currently by his side. He focused in on Merlin's presence and tried to zone in on the boy's emotions; his eyes screwed up in concentration and his hands balled into fists as the young warlock had come to be very talented at hiding certain things from Arthur through the connection.

Arthur once again sensed all the normal emotions that came with the boy who was Merlin but then he felt that trickle of fear creeping underneath the outer layer of feelings. Arthur strained his mind harder and dug further into his friend's layers; searching for the unexplained fear he was sensing. Every few moments the fear spiked before levelling back down to a constant vibe; but it wasn't leaving the warlocks mind.

Why's he scared? What's there to be frightened of in the south wing… then the answer hit him like a ton of bricks and a natural protectiveness coursed through his body. Arthur leapt to his feet and sprinted out of the room with an inhumane growl sounding in the bottom of his throat.

The frightened and now confused servant watched his master's strange silence on the floor and jumped when the prince sprinted from the room with a red fury in his eyes. After a few minutes of tense silence the young boy slowly started to pick up items from the floor once more, keeping a cautious eye on the open door in case the unbalanced prince came back. That's when a couple of certain items that lay folded neatly on the end of the royal bed caught his eye; the prince had left without his clothes.


Merlin stood back straight, hands clasped and head bowed; the stance of a typical servant. But this servant had his own will and although his head was dropped his narrowing gaze held firmly on the King, refusing to submit to the man's authority. The young warlock had been separated from his comfortable yet scruffy attire and forced into a rough material that made a tunic and trousers, each which were too small for the boy so dug into his skin; the evidence already prominent from the red blotchy scratches that could be observed around the wrist cuffs and neck line.

The King that was the cause of Merlin's discomfort was leaning over a wooden table on which lay a large collection of swords that had just arrived from the armoury.

"Well they seem to have been fully sharpened to the naked eye," Cirion remarked as he glanced back to the servant who was visually struggling to withhold spiting words, he chuckled and picked up the nearest sword, "But I think they'll need to be tested just to be positive." The King smirked at the flicker of fear in the boy's eyes and stalked towards him, swinging the sword menacingly in his hand. Then without warning, he swung at the servant.

Merlin only just stopped himself from crying out as the metal flew towards him but he couldn't help the flinch as he felt the sweep of air from the passing sword. The sharpened metal sliced through the sleeve of his tunic and a piece of rough clothe fluttered to the floor; Merlin closed his eyes in relief as no pain admitted on his skin and he forcibly pushed his magic back down, this would be the worst person to find out my secret.

Cirion frowned at the boy's lack of reaction so instead slid the sword across the skin of his cheek; leaning forward and whispering, "So, does this one pass the test?"

Merlin tensed as the monster approached him and cursing his untamed tongue starkly replied in a bored tone, "Well it did just cut through my top, so what do you think?"

The King hissed in anger at the servant's confident response and lowered the sword; digging it into the boy's neck with such pressure that Merlin was afraid to swallow. "You think you're funny boy? Well I'll remind you that you're not with your precious prince anymore and funny servants don't sit well with me." Merlin didn't drop the King's black gaze and bore as much of his hate for the evil man into his eyes as possible; the King simply raised a mocking eyebrow and lean closer into him, his next word hardly audible, "Understand?"

Merlin opened his mouth and was about to tell the man just what he understood when the wooden doors to the chamber burst open and a shirtless, messy haired blonde prince stormed into the room and at the sight of Cirion holding a sword to Merlin's neck, cried in rage and flung himself at the startled King.

Cirion quickly recovered from the prince's dramatic entrance and swiped his sword into the prince's on coming path; stopping the boy in his tracks but not lowering the rage on his face. "Take your hands off him Cirion!"

Merlin's eyes widen in worry for his friend as he knew his anger would lead his actions and the boy had no defence with him; he wasn't even dressed for goodness sake! The warlock quickly lowered his breathing rate and brought a calmness into him which he then sent along to his friend. Merlin saw Arthur's face relax but in consequence he received a glare to tell him, don't control my emotions!

Cirion laughed at the prince's words and slapped his hand on Merlin's shoulder to spite Arthur even further, but making sure the sword stayed between himself and the muscled prince. "Temper, temper goldey; I don't think your father would be impressed with your morning attitude right now."

Arthur bristled at the sound of the long term nickname the King had chosen to mock him with over the years and his tone came out low with warning, "And I don't think my father would be impressed with your stealing of my manservant."

The prince felt Merlin's flash of annoyance from being referred to as a possession but Arthur glanced at him, raising his eyebrows as to say, really? Now?

Merlin rolled his eyes but sent a flow of admittance; before inclining his head back to Cirion to tell his friend to just focus on the conversation at hand. The King didn't notice the quick looks between the boys and forcibly pushed Merlin behind him as he cautiously moved towards his desk, his sword never leaving the prince's bare torso. He took his hand off the servant's shoulder but continued to stand in the boy's path so he had nowhere to go; then with his free hand he picked up a roll of parchment that lay among the pile of letters thrown across the desk.

"Well I think this letter from your father speaks differently." Cirion threw the letter at the prince and triumphantly smirked as Arthur's eyes absorbed the words on the parchment, he outwardly laughed when the tightening of the boy's jaw showed he had received the letter's message. "Your father kindly gave me the use of your boy here," Cirion drew his sword away from Arthur and back onto Merlin, lightly stroking his arm with the metal blade; relishing in the anger and fright in the prince's eyes, "So if you'll be on your way and leave me to my tasks, I'm sure you'll avoid trouble with Uther."

Arthur clenched his fist and moved as if to strike the smug King but with a flash of gold his hand suddenly froze in its position and instead the prince threw yet another glare at his friend.

Merlin shrugged his shoulders in a term of, well you told me not to control your emotions. Merlin felt Arthur's sigh of exasperation but he knew that if Arthur harmed Cirion they would both pay for it in different ways, for now it seemed they would have to play by the King's rules. Merlin flicked his eyes towards the door and gave his friend a pleading wave; he could feel the prince's disagreement but the prince turned towards the door anyway.

As Arthur reached the door way he stopped and looked back at his friend; still feeling the fear deep inside his mind he tried to send as much reassurance as he could to the brave boy but it was a hard trait when he was feeling just as scared as Merlin; he didn't trust Cirion one bit.

He slowly left the room, and without turning around his cold voice swam back to the King's ears, the tone sending a sense of forbearing down the man's spine, "You hurt him, you'll regret it." Then with that threat Arthur forced himself to leave his friend in the hands of a revengeful King.


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