To say things became awkward between them after that would have been an understatement. Merlin felt like Arthur was watching him like a hawk, almost as if the prince was waiting for some sort of sign that Merlin needed to release his magic in some way. The warlock would have been touched that Arthur appeared to be caring, if it wasn't for the fact he felt like the prince wasn't leaving him alone. Admittedly, avoiding Arthur was harder when he wasn't sick, and Merlin felt his every footstep was being dodged.

It was almost a month after the adventure down in the water tunnels when he realised he wasn't quite sure how much more of it he could take. He had been watched like this one before and knowing Arthur's eyes were always on him was making memories resurface that he thought he had left far behind. He even had a nightmare about the past one night, causing Arthur to fuss – in his own indirect way – the following day when Merlin arrived at work pale faced and bleary eyed.

Merlin was quietly making Arthur's bed, trying to find a way to tell the prince he needed him to back off a little when a cushion he hadn't noticed he had dropped came flying out of nowhere and hit him over the head before dropping onto the bed. Ironically, it fell to almost the position it needed to be in, but Merlin glanced around to find Arthur frowning at him.

"What?"

"You're not talking my ear off about nonsense that I don't care about."

"That's good, right?" Sometimes, Merlin was sure he was never going to truly understand what made Arthur tick. It was as if being seen to care, for anyone to even suggest that he had a heart was an insult the prince couldn't bear to be delivered. So he hid it under layers of arrogance and tried to find out what was wrong by confusing Merlin so much he was no longer sure what was he admitting to.

"Not when I don't know why you are so quiet." Merlin stared at him, realising this was his chance to ask Arthur to stop watching him like he was going to fall apart if he didn't. He opened his mouth, sighed and then shook his head.

"No reason. I just didn't sleep well."

"Why?"

"What's it to you?"

"One; you are my servant," Arthur stalked closer as he spoke. Merlin had no other word for it; Arthur had made him his project and now it seemed he wasn't going to let that go, "and two; if you are quiet it means something is wrong. Something wrong means you need to use magic meaning I need to know to draw upon it for you so it doesn't cripple me in the process."

Deep down, Merlin knew Arthur was only trying to help. But hearing him say it so bluntly made Merlin grind his teeth together in frustration.

"Or maybe three; it's none of your business."

"Merlin…."

"Just leave it, Arthur." Throwing down the pillows, Merlin made to stalk from the room, calming the anger he could feel bubbling within. Arthur truly thought he was helping, that was why Merlin wasn't letting himself lash out right now. But the prince had just so casually said what was on Merlin's mind; it was as if he needed Arthur to work the magic for him. He knew it wouldn't be forever and knew he had the potential to kill his destiny if he didn't let Arthur take control. But knowing the magic he had at his disposal was once again being controlled by another – even for good reasons – was grating on him.

"I didn't give you permission to leave," Arthur's voice was cold and before Merlin knew what was happening, the prince had a grip on his arm, hauling him back from the door. "I asked you what was wrong?"

"What are you going to do, Arthur? Force my magic to tell you if I don't want to? You're the one in control now, after all."

Arthur recoiled as if Merlin had struck him, a completely helpless look on his face for a split second before he covered it up. Merlin took no satisfaction in saying something so cruel, but it was as if he couldn't stop himself. Arthur had saved his life when he interrupted the ritual; he had hardly known the consequences and had almost died as a result. Even now, Merlin knew he thought he was helping and that was what made it so frustrating. How was one supposed to react when their jailer was also their friend?

"Go and prepare two horses, Merlin," Arthur said coolly, turning his back on his servant. Knowing he had pushed it too much already, Merlin turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, heading towards the stables. Why Arthur thought now was a good time for a ride, Merlin had no idea. But considering he had a feeling the alternative would be throwing him in the stocks for his behaviour, he did as he was told.

An hour later found them drawing the horses to a stop in the middle of a clearing in the middle of the forest. It was secluded here and Merlin could hear the sound of a stream trickling nearby even as the sunlight played through the leaves and danced across the ground. Instantly, he felt his irritation ease away and he took a deep breath, tilting his head back to breathe in the fresh air with a smile tugging at his lips.

"Better?" Arthur asked with dry amusement as he jumped down from his horse and tied it to a nearby branch. Merlin followed suit, feeling almost as if he was in a dream.

"How did you know?"

"I guessed. You've always lived in the countryside, worked in the fields. Have you even left the castle since you arrived in Camelot?" Merlin wanted to deny it, but as he stared at Arthur while thinking about the places he might have gone, he found his protests died in his throat.

"I thought as much," Arthur muttered. "I know you feel like I'm trapping you…"

"I do not."

"The funny thing with this link, Merlin. I know when you are lying to me, especially when it is about what happened before. I can feel it. You've gradually grown more and more hostile over the last month and it's because you haven't felt in control. I knew getting you out here would help with some of the feeling of entrapment."

"How?"

"I broke my ankle once. Was stuck in the castle for weeks; snapped at everything that moved and was generally going out of my mind with boredom. It felt like the castle was shrinking in around me. I've been trying to plan ways to get us to leave for a few days now, but after your little tantrum earlier, I knew it had to be now."

"I don't…." Merlin felt ashamed as he threw himself down on the grass, rolling a stalk between his fingers and just allowing his body to take in the sights and sounds around him. It was almost unnerving how much better he felt for just being outside and knowing Arthur wanted to talk about this seriously meant he was fighting to keep the smile off his face so the prince didn't think he was being mocked.

"You did mean it, Merlin. You think I'm trying to take control, don't you?"

"Aren't you?"

"No. I'm trying to keep you safe. If I continue to get sick, how long until my father calls in a physician from elsewhere? I know it is only Camelot where magic is outlawed. If one comes in from somewhere else and has an understanding of magic, if he finds the link… What do you think my father would do to you?"

Merlin stared, crimson blossoming over his cheeks. He had truly believed that Arthur was trying to keep things running smoothly in order to stop himself from getting sick. Not that Merlin blamed him; it looked agonising. It had never crossed his mind why Arthur would want that, however.

"Why are we out here, Arthur?"

Arthur shrugged, a mischievous smile spreading over his face. Merlin almost sucked in a sharp breath at the look, reminding him so forcibly of the Arthur he first met that he almost grinned back despite himself.

"Some of the knights might have been under instructions to report they saw me at the tavern last night."

"So?"

"So… if I happen to have a headache my father will think nothing of it."

"Arthur, no. You know how sick it makes you-,"

"Stop, Merlin. I've been thinking about it. You haven't used magic on your own accord for over a month now. I think I can handle it, at least one lot. I think you need this more than I need a clear head, somehow."

Merlin stared at him, suddenly conscious of just how rude he had been to the prince over the last few days while his feeling of imprisonment had drawn in around him and suffocated him from the truth. He had doubted Arthur; and he knew this was his chance to prove that he trusted him.

Sitting up, Merlin stared about him for inspiration. Despite Arthur's confidence he would be fine, Merlin didn't want to try anything too big. Arthur was risking a lot here, the most Merlin could do was try and control himself at least a little. Seeing a patch of flowers, Merlin grinned.

Delving into himself, he made to nudge past the barrier holding back his magic. As he did so, he saw Arthur shift slightly. It was barely a movement, but it was enough to snag Merlin's attention, especially as this wasn't the first time he had seen it happen.

"You can feel when I do that, can't you? That barrier is you?"

"Just get on with it, Merlin, I haven't got all day." Arthur's return to abruptness was almost a blessing; it was a sign that things were returning to normal. Merlin had already noted his question had come out as curious rather than accusing. Returning his attention to the flowers, Merlin ignored Arthur this time as he embraced his magic, allowing it to fill him up as he extended his hand towards them.

Technically, he didn't need anything to guide him, not even a word to control the flow of magic. But as Arthur had pointed out, it had been over a month since he used it and he didn't want to risk it, not when it was Arthur's health on the line. Letting a word roll from his tongue, he grinned as the flowers rose up from the ground, dancing around the area for a few moments before returning to their original spot, unharmed.

It might have been a small spell, but Merlin suddenly felt so free he couldn't help but let out a laugh of delight. It was as if he had been slowly shutting himself off the longer it went on for and now had been thrust back into reality again.

"Better?" Arthur repeated his earlier question, but his voice sounded strained and sweat was beading his brow when Merlin looked at him. The servant sighed.

"I'm not sure. Not if this is the price of me feeling free."

"You're just never happy, are you, Merlin? We should get back."

"Not yet," Merlin pressed a hand to Arthur's shoulder to keep the prince sitting. Although Arthur looked pained, it wasn't to the same extent that Merlin had seen before. "How is it you seem to know more about how this link works than I do?"

"I'm older," Arthur retorted. It was such a childish answer, a clear way of Arthur saying he had no idea, that Merlin couldn't help but laugh.

"Just rest there for a moment," snatching the water skin from one of the saddles, he followed the sound of the river and quickly filled it. Jogging back to Arthur, he pressed it into his hand and watched as the prince drank. A small amount of colour returned to Arthur.

"I'm sorry," Merlin muttered, studying the ground when the prince finished drinking.

"We knew that would-,"

"Not about that. About before. I've been blaming you because you are one of the few who know and it's easier to blame someone else than admit to feeling trapped. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"That's alright," Arthur's response was so casual that Merlin instantly felt on his guard. "I'll just make you muck out the stables for the next week."

"Prat," Merlin tossed a handful of grass at Arthur even as he laughed. Arthur retaliated and Merlin spat out the grass as it landed in his mouth.

"Idiot."

For a moment, the two young men could only grin at each other, safe in the knowledge their friendship was secure for a little longer at least. Then Arthur's smile slipped and he cursed, scrambling to his feet. Merlin ignored the way his hands shook as he reached for the reins, knowing Arthur wouldn't appreciate being fussed over.

"What is it?" Merlin felt alarm shoot through him as he shot up after Arthur. That look on the prince's face couldn't mean anything good; for either of them.

"My father is expecting a delegation from King Bayard later today. He's coming to sign some sort of peace treaty and I'm dead if I'm not there."

"There's still time," at the back of his mind, Merlin could vaguely remember hearing something about that. He was just glad Arthur hadn't yet thought his servant should have been the one to remind him.

Their speed back to Camelot was borderline dangerous, especially considering Merlin could tell Arthur's head was paining him. He sent the prince straight upstairs when they got back – secretly amused that Arthur did as he was told – and asked a couple of servants to run him a bath. In the meantime, Merlin bedded down the horses and ran to Gaius' chambers. He was glad the man wasn't in, for he didn't want to have to explain why he was after a headache tonic. Gaius would no doubt disapprove of the risk they had just taken.

But with the phial in hand, he returned to Arthur and wordlessly passed it over. Arthur downed it without complaint, giving Merlin a tight smile of gratitude. The headache should ease up on its own considering Merlin only used one spell and it was the first in a while, but if they could avoid anyone else finding out, then that would certainly be the best.

Arthur bathed and began trying to decide what to wear, eventually settling on his red jacket. Merlin wrinkled his nose; Arthur had left him with very little time to get it clean, especially considering it seemed to be covered in something the servant didn't even want to identify. When Arthur told him to polish the buttons, Merlin made to protest before he caught the look on Arthur's face. This was his punishment for taking out his bad mood on Arthur.

"One more thing," Arthur said, his eyes dancing. The pain had cleared or whatever Arthur was planning he was so pleased about he wasn't noticing the headache. In a way, Merlin knew he should be glad but he couldn't stop the feeling of nerves clenching in his gut. Why did he get the feeling he was about to be made to pay?

"Do you want to see what you will be wearing?"

"Won't this do?" Merlin asked, gesturing down to himself. If he was honest, Merlin was nervous. He wasn't entirely sure how far Arthur would go in order to make him apologise for his behaviour. He knew it wouldn't be anything serious though, not after what had just happened out in the forest. Arthur ran his eyes over Merlin's current attire and grimaced.

"No. It's nice but… you'll be wearing the official robes of the servants of Camelot."

Merlin had to admit, it sounded impressive and he was almost looked forward to seeing what Arthur came back from around the screen with. But as soon as the prince did step back into sight, Merlin gaped; horrified.

"You can't be serious?!" he gasped, staring at the feathers in horror. Arthur simply lifted his eyebrows and grinned, causing Merlin to moan.

"You are a horrible person," he whined even as he stretched out his hand to take it. Any other day, he would have protested far more and might have even won just so Arthur could shut him up. But he knew this was his punishment. He had taken his bad mood out on Arthur for days now and the prince was paying him back for it. Even that might not have been enough to stop Merlin from moaning but he couldn't forget the risk Arthur had just taken in order to try and make him feel better.

Arthur pushed it into his hand and moved towards the steaming bath, a grin on his face. "And if you don't wear it, you're spending the rest of the week in the stocks."

"I thought I was spending it in the stables," Merlin muttered, placing it to one side and resisting the urge to thrust it into the fire. He picked up Arthur's jacket and a brush as he settled himself cross legged on the floor and began seeing what dirt he could shift this way. He was convinced there wasn't enough time to get it washed and dried before that evening and was so determined to make the prince look respectable.

After all, Merlin had come to the conclusion that Arthur was the only one allowed to comment on what a terrible servant he was. He was going to make sure the prince truly looked the part tonight, even if it was just his way of thanking Arthur for everything he had done that day.