Resemblance
It had been quite a busy few days. Camelot was hosting a royal delegation, and the servants had been nearly run off their feet. Arthur had been demanding and on edge, and to top it all off, Merlin had spent the last few nights helping Gaius with a magical sickness circulating the lower town. He hardly had time to sleep, let alone snatch a few minutes to clean himself up.
The consequence was one Merlin had never anticipated.
As he rushed through the crowded servants chambers, a older woman caught his arm and he skidded to a surprised halt. She studied his face intently, her face both inquisitive and gentle. "You look like him," she murmured. "Oh, how you look like him."
Merlin looked at her in confusion. "An . . . an old member of court," she elaborated. "Before the Purge. He was a good friend," she said, more to herself than anyone else. "A good man."
Later, Merlin studied himself in the mirror and realized, in a startling flash of clarity, that with his faint beginnings of a beard, he looked remarkably like his father.
