Chapter 7

Arthur spent the remainder of the morning hacking Excalibur into a training dummy and returned to his chambers dripping sweat. Normally, Merlin would have been trailing him the whole way, and Arthur would now order him to draw a bath. Arthur was irritated that he would have to call for and wait on George.

However, the servant had miraculously anticipated Arthur's request and already had a bath waiting for him when he stepped through the door. Arthur raised an eyebrow at it, glanced between the tub and George, and then scowled. "Go on then, give me some privacy."

"Yes, sire," said George, bowing his way out of the room.

Arthur undressed, throwing his clothes and armor about the floor, and then stepped into his bath. The water wasn't as hot as Merlin usually got it, and that irritated Arthur further.

"A knight," he muttered. "Merlin!" He couldn't believe that Gwaine had stolen his manservant like that. All Gwaine seemed to be doing since Merlin was cursed was rubbing his friendship with the boy in Arthur's face. Arthur was in no way jealous, not of the affections of a servant, but he couldn't stand the idea that anyone, let alone Merlin, might prefer Gwaine, an uncivilized drunken commoner, over the king of Camelot! If Merlin damn well wanted to be a squire, he should have asked Arthur first!

"No way in hell am I ever going to call him 'Sir Merlin'. It's unnatural!"

Merlin had no chance at actually becoming a knight. Arthur would know. He had trained Merlin with a sword, shield, and crossbow, and still the most Merlin ever did in a battle was hide behind bushes and cower in fear. Merlin might have been recklessly brave when it came to using his own body as a shield to protect Arthur, but except in the direst of situations, Merlin was a right coward. And an uncoordinated weakling! He was going to trip and impale himself on his own sword.

No, Merlin could train for years, and it would still be an impossibility.

"Ridiculous," he scoffed.

Perhaps what bothered Arthur the most was how easy it was to look at this Merlin and fall into old routines with him, as though they meant anything to the boy, as though this Merlin was anything more than a stranger wearing his manservant's face. There was no reason for Arthur to feel so angry about the situation, and yet, he did.

Arthur rinsed the sweat, dried off, and dressed himself in clean clothes pulled at random from his wardrobe. He jumped backwards onto his bed and lay there, glowering at the canopy, until he heard a knock at his door.

"Enter," he grumbled. He listened to the door open and close again.

"I heard that you spoke to Merlin," said Guinevere.

Arthur raised his head to glance at her and then dropped it again.

"I also hear it did not go well," she continued. "That you stormed away in a cloud of rage."

"I'm surprised you're speaking to me again," he said. "I failed at my task, although I don't believe he actually needs any support from me, when he's getting plenty from Gwaine."

"Yes," said the queen slowly. "It appears Merlin is now his squire." The mattress shifted as she sat on the edge. "You know, I'm surprised you didn't knight Merlin years ago."

"Knight Merlin? Do you hear yourself?"

"Is it so strange? Merlin was the only companion whom you did not knight at the Castle of the Ancient Kings, despite everything he had done for you."

Arthur made a face. "He was my manservant. He was merely doing his duty."

"Do you really believe any other manservant would have done the same?"

Arthur had no response to that. He could not imagine George, for example, risking his life to retake the castle from two evil sorceresses and an enemy king.

"It wasn't what he wanted," said Arthur.

"How do you know? He must have wanted it on some level, based on his decision today, don't you think?"

"I know," said Arthur, "because he told me. He told me that he would be happy to be my servant until the day he died, and never once did he talk about leaving me to squire under one of my knights."

"Arthur," said Guinevere gently, slipping her hand into his and rubbing small circles with her thumb. "You must remember, you're still a stranger to him, and not only that, you're a king. He may in fact be quite intimidated to work for you."

"Guinevere, my love, the last thing that Merlin is is intimidated by me. Do you know what he called me after becoming Gwaine's squire? 'King Cabbagehead'."

The queen snorted.

"It's not funny," said Arthur.

"No, you're right, I'm sorry, only, someone must have taught him that? Do you think he came up with it on his own?"

"No, he was taught, and I'm almost entirely certain who it was," said Arthur. "All of this is Gwaine's doing. He's taking revenge upon me."

"Revenge? Whatever for?"

The anger suddenly dampened, replaced by the other feeling Arthur had been experiencing so frequently over the past few days - guilt. He squeezed Guinevere's hand. "Because he blames me for what happened to Merlin. Moreover, he may be justified for blaming me."

"Arthur," said Guinevere, "whatever has happened, it is no one's fault but Morgana's."

The king's words stuck in his throat. He swallowed thickly and said no more.

"How about this?" said Guinevere. "I haven't had the chance to see Merlin since he's been spending so much time with the knights. I think I'll visit him this afternoon. I'll see what I can learn about what he's really feeling right now."

Gaius had Merlin chopping dried herbs into fine pieces, grinding them, and then putting them into little glass vials, while the physician himself made his rounds through the lower town. Merlin was also supposed to be labeling them, but seeing as how he had no clue what any of the herbs were, he was going to leave that job for Gaius. Hopefully Gaius could recognize the dark green powder from the slightly darker green powder. At the very least, they all smelled differently, so that was something.

There was a soft knock at the door, and then the Queen of Camelot, of all the people it might have been, stuck her head into the room. "Oh, Merlin!" she said, face lighting up. "There you are! I'm so glad."

Merlin immediately felt his face turn red and his mouth go dry. "Y-your Majesty… I mean, um, Gwen!"

"Yes," she said, stepping fully into the room. "You must call me Gwen." She looked just as splendid as she had two nights ago, hair elegantly pinned above her head, dressed in a light yellow gown. She was, Merlin decided, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"Do you," he stammered, "erm, want to sit down?"

"Gods, yes! Merlin, you wouldn't believe how exhausting it is to walk around Camelot in a lady's heels all day long. My feet are in agony." Gwen - the queen - slid onto the bench across from Merlin, at Gaius's dirty and dusty table. "But that is enough about me. How are you feeling? I heard you decided to become Gwaine's squire this morning."

"If you're here to tell me how bad an idea it is," said Merlin dourly, "believe me, I already know."

"Actually, Merlin, I think it's wonderful." Gwen reached across the table and grabbed Merlin's hands, taking him by complete surprise. All of this was way too affectionate. What if…? No, he wasn't even going to think about it. His older self might have been totally mad, but there was no way he was having an affair with the queen. Right?

"You do?" he squeaked.

Gwen immediately snatched her hands back. "I'm sorry! I keep forgetting you don't quite know me yet. But yes, I do think so. I was just telling Arthur how he should have knighted you ages ago. I think you'll be a fantastic knight, especially if Gwaine is the one training you."

"And here I was telling Gaius how I made a horrible mistake…"

"Really? Why?"

Merlin stared at the queen, who seemed to be genuinely interested in what he had to say. It was entirely unnerving. "Um, Gwen, I don't mean for this to be rude, but why in the world are you friends with me? I'm a peasant."

That only made Gwen's smile grow. "But I am, too. Or, well, I used to be. Merlin, we used to work together. I was Lady Morgana's handmaiden."

Merlin gaped at her. The queen of Camelot, King Arthur's wife, was a commoner? Arthur had gone and married a peasant?

Something else about what she said struck him then. "You were… Morgana's handmaiden? Isn't she some kind of horribly evil sorceress, or is this a different Morgana?"

"No, no, she's the same Morgana," said Gwen, whose face was now pinched in sorrow. She sighed. "She wasn't always like this, you know. There was a time she was one of the kindest people in Camelot. I don't really know what went wrong. If it was because of her magic, or because of her sister, or learning that she was actually Arthur's half-sister, or perhaps it's all of those reasons."

Great. Another huge and hard-to-digest piece of information. Despite her calm and comforting demeanor, Gwen was almost as stressful to talk to as her husband.

"Right," said Merlin, who really did not want to dive deeper into the subject of the woman who had cursed him, who apparently was also Arthur's sister and therefore royalty, who had discovered she had magic and decided to turn viciously evil with it. No, Merlin did not want to think about any of that. "Um, so… you said we worked together?"

"Yes. You were Arthur's manservant, so naturally we saw a lot of each other. You are actually the oldest friend I have here at Camelot. I, well... I hope we can be friends again."

Merlin grinned. "I don't think that should be too difficult."

"But Merlin, why do you think you made a horrible mistake in becoming Gwaine's squire?"

The grin vanished. Merlin took up the mortar and pestle he had abandoned when Gwen arrived and began to mash the herbs again, with slightly increased fervor. "I just don't think I'm knight material. I'm not strong, or brave, or any of those things. And now that I've done this, I've only made the king more angry with me."

"He's not angry with you, Merlin," said Gwen. "I do believe he's more angry with Gwaine. He seems to be under the impression that Gwaine is trying to seek revenge on him by 'stealing his manservant'." She laughed. "Honestly, I think he's jealous, if anything."

"Why would Arthur be jealous of Gwaine? Arthur's the king."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Because you chose Gwaine to squire you! Of course he would be upset that you didn't ask him first."

Merlin was incredibly confused. "Arthur is dead set against me becoming a knight. There was no way I could have asked him."

The queen laughed again. "Merlin, you are going to learn, if you haven't already, that my husband is incredibly poor at communicating his feelings. He's a very manly sort of man who thinks that showing any sort of emotion is a sign of weakness, and then he gets angry and throws tantrums when people don't understand him."

"So, basically he's a child."

"Yes!" exclaimed Gwen, giggling uncontrollably. "He is a huge baby."

Thinking of the king as a huge baby in a crown was incredibly hilarious and oddly appropriate, and yet everything Gwen had told him created a tight feeling in Merlin's chest. "Tell me, Gwen, how did the older me feel about being his manservant?"

"Oh, you complained about it all the time," she responded immediately. "You were always talking about how he worked you to the bone and gave you too many chores that kept you up to all hours of the night, and he really enjoyed throwing things at your head and was extremely reticent to give you any time off.

"But Merlin," she continued, and something about her tone of voice had become much more serious and earnest. "When all others had abandoned him, you were always, always at his side. To be honest, I don't think I know anyone as fiercely loyal to Arthur as you. And I could tell, whenever I looked at you standing at his side, you were always watching him with this look of such pride on your face. It was quite moving.

"I suppose if I had to describe your relationship, you two were less like master and servant and more like brothers? Even if he would never admit it, I think you are the closest friend he has in all the world, Merlin."

Merlin blinked, and he was shocked to feel tears running down his face. He sniffed and rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes.

"Oh, Merlin!" said Gwen, jumping to her feet. She ran around the table and wrapped him in a hug. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry."

"What, I'm not crying," said Merlin, wiping at his face. "I got these herbs in my eyes."

He didn't understand anything that was happening. It seemed like he was making mistake after mistake when it came to the king, the person he was bound to protect by threat of dragonfire. He had no clue why, though, or why the dragon cared so much about the king of a land where magic was punishable by death, or why he, Merlin, was the one supposed to save the prat's life, or how to even begin doing that when all he had been doing so far was ruining this amazing relationship they had once had.

"Gwen," he choked out. "I think I'm ruining everything."

"No, no, Merlin, no! You're not ruining anything. None of this is your fault. No one can blame you for just being yourself. If anything, it's Arthur's fault for treating you poorly. I don't think he truly understands how overwhelmed you must be feeling about all this. He's only been thinking of himself."

Gwen placed her hands on Merlin's shoulders and looked him sternly in the face. "Merlin, here is what you must do. Train with Gwaine and prove Arthur wrong. Maybe he thinks you can't be a knight, but I do, and obviously Gwaine does as well. Not only should it humble Arthur, it will make him appreciate what a good friend he is missing. And you better not apologize to him, Merlin. He's the one who needs to be open about his feelings, and until he does, do not pay him any attention."

Merlin chuckled thickly. "You know, that's almost exactly what Gwaine told me."

"Who knows?" said Gwen, grinning. "Maybe he really is trying to get revenge?"

They chatted for a little longer, but then a guard told Gwen that she was needed elsewhere, and Merlin was alone again with the herbs. Once more he felt on the verge of tears. Gwen was right - it was overwhelming. Everything was happening too fast, and there were too many things to juggle, what with the dragon's terrifying command, his highly illegal magic, managing relationships with so many important people who knew everything about him while he knew nothing of them, and now squiring under Gwaine. Merlin felt trapped, and more than anything, homesick.

Once he finished mashing the herbs, Merlin went to his room, closed his door, and curled up on his bed.

"Well," said Arthur once the servants had been dismissed. "What did you learn?"

By the steely look in her eyes, his wife was not happy with him. Arthur fought not to flinch away.

"What I've learned, Arthur, is that Merlin is particularly distressed because he thinks you are angry with him, and he thinks he is 'ruining everything'." She stabbed her fork into a carrot with such force that Arthur was surely glad he wasn't a carrot. "Those are Merlin's words, not mine."

"Of course I'm angry with him!" said Arthur. "And he is ruining everything. He's supposed to be my manservant, and yet here he is running off with Gwaine-"

"He is his own person, and he doesn't remember you!" said Guinevere, slamming her silverware down onto the table. "Of course he's going to choose the person who has been showing him kindness and support, instead of the one who I'm going to guess has done nothing but yell at him!"

The queen stood, folding her napkin and placing it beside her plate. "You need to fix this," she said, and then she left.

Stunned, Arthur stared at the door.

"He's just a bloody manservant," he told the now empty room. "Who has bloody magic. He should be thankful I haven't thrown him in the bloody dungeons.

"No, what do I care?" he continued, placing down his silverware and standing up. "Guinevere is right. He is his own person, let him do what he wants. Why should I care?"

Appetite gone, he stormed out of the room, and the royal dinner was left entirely uneaten.

Gaius woke Merlin the next morning by tossing his boots at him and saying, "If you want to serve Gwaine his breakfast before noon, you had better get a move on."

"What?" said Merlin, blinking at the room. When he noticed how high the sun was in the sky, he asked, "What time is it?"

"Time for you to begin your squire duties."

Frantically, Merlin dressed himself, ran his fingers through his hair, splashed a few handfuls of water onto his face, ate about three bites of some horrible grey porridge, and ran from the room. Seconds later, he was back. "Gaius, where exactly is Gwaine's room, and how am I supposed to serve him breakfast?"

Gaius laughed, shaking his head, and told Merlin how to get to the kitchens and how to go to the knights' chambers from there. Merlin told him a hasty "Thanks!" and sprinted away.

Navigating to the kitchens, Merlin spent a lot of time dodging and apologizing to people that he bumped into. Once he arrived, panting, he stared around in bewilderment at the huge and bustling room full of servants and cooks ducking under each other's elbows trying to load trays, knead bread, stir soups, and chop vegetables.

"Ah! There he is," said one of the cooks loudly, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. "Missed you the last few days. Heard you'd been cursed!"

Everyone in the room spared him a glance, and there was a chorus of "Morning, Merlin!" and "Welcome back, Merlin!" and "It's not contagious, is it, Merlin?"

"Um, good morning," he said, trying to smile, all the while thinking, Great. More people I'm supposed to know.

"I can see it!" exclaimed another cook, who was peeling potatoes. "Look at 'im, no more than a boy!"

"He was already no more'n a boy before," argued a rather elderly maidservant on her way out. "Welcome back, lad," she told him as she passed.

"Um, I'm supposed to serve Gwaine, er, Sir Gwaine his breakfast this morning."

"Don't you mean the king?" asked the first cook who'd spoken.

"Hoh, no wonder the king has been so huffy and puffy," replied another. "Gwaine's stolen his manservant!"

There was a lot of laughter. Suddenly another servant, a boy who looked about Merlin's own age, appeared in front of him holding out a tray with a plate, knife, fork, and cup on it. "Here, Merlin. Just grab whatever."

"Thanks, um…?"

"Owain," said the boy, grinning. "It's my pleasure."

After some darting, ducking, and snatching food, Merlin hurried on towards the knights' chambers with the laden tray carefully balanced in his arms. He finally reached what he thought was the right corridor, due mostly to the increased number of knights and squires that were passing through it.

"Merlin!" someone called out, and Merlin saw Sir Elyan waving at him. "You must be here for Gwaine. He's the only one still in bed, of course. Last door on the left."

"Thanks, Sir Elyan!" Merlin called back.

"Just Elyan is fine!"

Merlin hurried to Gwaine's room, balanced the tray on one arm, and knocked on the door. There was no answer. "Gwaine?" he called out. "It's Merlin." Still no answer, but this time Merlin thought he heard the sound of groaning on the other side of the door.

There was nothing for it. Merlin took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped into the room.

Gwaine's chambers, Merlin saw, were a decent size, perhaps a little more than twice the size of his own room. There was a desk that seemed to double as a table, a wardrobe, a chest, a weapons rack, and Gwaine's bed. The whole room was plunged in darkness thanks to the heavy curtains pulled across the window.

"Gwaine?" said Merlin, setting down the tray on Gwaine's desk. "Gwaine, it's time to get up."

"Five more minutes, mum," said the knight, burrowing into his pillow.

Well, that wouldn't do. Sighing, Merlin walked over to the curtains and flung them open, flooding the room with bright morning sunlight. Gwaine groaned and finally looked up, face heavy with sleep.

"There you are," said Merlin, satisfied that he had at least accomplished part of his job.

"Hey there, Merlin," sighed Gwaine. He sat up, stretching and grunting. "I suppose that now I have a squire, I have to actually wake up at a decent hour."

"You sound so pleased," teased Merlin.

"A wee bit hungover," said Gwaine, and he flashed Merlin a sardonic smile. "At least you aren't here at the crack of dawn."

"Don't be ridiculous. I want to sleep, too."

"Good squire," the knight grunted.

"I know what'll help that hangover," said Merlin, gesturing towards the tray. "Breakfast!"

"Look at that. Breakfast in my own chambers. Thanks, Merlin." Looking a little more enthusiastic, Gwaine was able to get out of bed and flop down at his desk, where he immediately drained half his cup of cider and began digging into the meat and bread.

"You're welcome," said Merlin, grinning. "Although I think it's my job now."

"You mean that I can expect this every morning?"

"Unless my arms get hacked off by someone's sword."

Gwaine shook his head. "Why had I no squire before? This is luxury."

Once Gwaine had polished off his breakfast, Merlin took the tray back to the kitchens. By the time he returned, Gwaine was dressed in a tunic and trousers and was hefting several blades into his arms.

He promptly dumped these onto Merlin, who staggered, not expecting them to be so heavy.

"Right. Let's get started with your training, shall we? First rule of being a knight, Merlin, is to take care of your weapons. They will not take care of you if you do not do the same for them."

"Gwaine," said Merlin nervously, hoping there would be a much more detailed explanation upcoming, "I should probably tell you that this is my first time ever holding a sword. What exactly do you want me to do with them?"

"We are going to clean and polish them and make them look fighting fit - and don't worry, this is not something you have to do every day." Gwaine sat down on the chest at the foot of his bed and gestured for Merlin to sit beside him. The knight grabbed the blade from the top of the pile in Merlin's arms and told Merlin to put the others on the bed. "Watch me carefully, Merlin."

Gwaine spent the next few minutes teaching Merlin what a whetstone was, showing him where he kept his oil and tools, and demonstrating to Merlin the process of whetting the blade. Once that was complete, he hung the blade back on its stand, picked up a dagger from the pile, and handed it to Merlin. "Start small, shall we?"

Clumsily, Merlin followed Gwaine's instructions in cleaning, oiling, and polishing the blade. He slipped several times and thought he was going to cut his fingers off, but he didn't, and Gwaine never once admonished him.

In fact, Gwaine waited patiently beside Merlin as he went through the rest of the blades, encouraging him and making conversation.

The rest of the morning followed in a similar vein, whether it was showing Merlin how to clean and polish his armor, muck a stable (and Gwaine informed the stable boys that Merlin would be caring for both Gwaine's and Merlin's horses for the time being), or where to take the laundry for washing. Gwaine demonstrated to Merlin how to complete each task and stuck by Merlin as he did them.

Finally, after a brief lunch, Merlin was fitted into some training armor - "To get used to the weight" - which consisted of chainmail, two steel bracers, and heavy leather gloves, and told that he would be spending the rest of the afternoon doing athletics.

"So, we're not sword fighting?" said Merlin, feeling both relieved and cautious. He was already feeling the strain of his chores from the morning, especially mucking the stables and grooming the horses. His arms and back were aching, and the mail felt heavy and hot on his shoulders.

"Not for a while, mate," said Gwaine, clapping him on the shoulder. "But I appreciate your enthusiasm. No, for now, we need to build your endurance, or you won't be able to even hold a sword."

What followed was an agonizing set of exercises, which Gwaine called "push-ups" and "sit-ups", that involved pushing himself off of the ground in various positions, only to fall back down and do it over again. Then there was the most horrible exercise of all, something called a "pull-up", in which Merlin was expected to lift his chin up and over a wooden pole while dangling off the ground. He managed to do this a total of two times before his arms gave out and he fell onto the dirt.

Gwaine, chuckling, grasped Merlin's arm and pulled him to his feet. "Something to work on," he said, and promised, "It will get easier, mate. Helps that you're stubborn as a mule, too. You'll get this."

The last task Gwaine had for Merlin was for him to run, five times, around the walls of the citadel.

"You're kidding," said Merlin, slack-jawed.

Gwaine laughed heartily. "Absolutely not. And Merlin, I'm trusting you not to go home until you're finished. Meanwhile, I will be enjoying dinner at the tavern, so as you can take all the time you like without worrying about attending me."

"Gee, thanks."

"Gaius…"

"Yes, Merlin?" said the old physician, peering into his ward's room and barely masking a grin.

"Gaius, I can't feel my legs."

"Are you ready to give up yet?"

"Give up?" said Merlin. He raised his head from his bed, groaned, and dropped it again. "And what would I tell the king?"

"I think he would be understanding," said Gaius. "Oh, yes, he would gloat and say things like 'I told you so', but I seriously doubt he would withhold your old position from you. Here." Gaius placed two small glass flasks onto Merlin's bedside table, one whose contents were a milky white color and the other a dull yellow. "This one is for the pain, and this is a muscle relaxant, to help with the cramping. I recommend taking them immediately."

"Thanks, Gaius." Merlin raised himself, shaking, onto his elbows, grabbed the white draught, and took a big swallow. He promptly choked and beat a hand on his chest. "What is this made out of?" he wheezed. "Bile?"

Gaius shook his head, chuckling. "Trust me, my boy, it's better that you don't know. Now the other one."

Warily, Merlin took up the other flask. This time, he sniffed the contents and made a disgusted face. "This one actually is bile, isn't it? Oh well. Here goes." Pinching his nose, he downed the contents, swallowed, and shuddered. "I think the medicine is worse than what it's supposed to be treating."

Gaius took the two now-empty flasks and patted Merlin on the shoulder. "Now, get some rest. Don't forget, you have to do it all again in the morning."

"Please, don't remind me," groaned Merlin, and he dropped back onto his bed.

"Goodnight, Merlin."

"Goodnight, Gaius."

A/N: Goodness, Arthur's thoughts and emotions are all over the place, while Merlin is completely overwhelmed. Our poor boys...

Also, I must apologize - this is a week late. I've been feeling a bit hesitant about the path this story will take, and hem-hawed over posting this chapter yet. I have a Chapter 8 ready, but I'm wondering whether I need to write one more chapter before 8 and call the current Chapter 8, Chapter 9.

Oh well. I'll figure it out. At this point, the updates will likely come more slowly, but they will happen, no worries. :D

A kind thanks to: laily. spenstar, Gingeraffealene, east231, blueshifting, Manateesrock33, myrosedream, PadrePedro, and Taz for your reviews of Chapter 6!