"Something on your mind?"

There was no answer. His eyes were still staring blankly ahead, piercing their way into the most profound dimensions of thought, overlooking the dinner before him and his wife sitting all the way across the table.

"Arthur?"

At last the king was startled back to reality and he adopted a puzzled expression, rising his eyebrows at Gwen. The queen offered a patient smile.

"Please tell me you're not still going on about that poor girl…"

"I don't trust her."

"Oh, I know. Since you came back, that's practically all you've said."

Arthur exhaled a half-hearted chuckle, reaching for his goblet to sip on some water. Gwen lowered her eyes and continued eating, if only to make her upcoming remark all the more nonchalant.

"Could it be that the true reason why you don't like her is that you're jealous?"

Arthur looked at his wife like that had been the most ridiculous question he had ever heard in his life. Having anticipated such a reaction, Gwen proceded.

"In all the years we've known Merlin, he's been… just Merlin. Your servant, your friend—"

"He's not my—"

Guinevere raised an eyebrow, challenging her husband to deny the undeniable. Instead, he sighed again.

"What's your point?"

"Could it be that now that his attention is divided between you and somebody else instead of being exclusively yours that you might be… a little bothered about it?"

The king scoffed and he himself continued eating, suddenly invaded by the need to stab something with his fork.

Gwen paused. She knew better than to expect Arthur to sulk in silence since that had never been his style— the sulking part was, absolutely, but the silent part? Highly uncharacteristic. Yet it seemed, she thought to herself as she gazed at him still poking aimlessly at his meal with the end of his fork, that this time he would actually remain quiet as he mulled over his opinions and emotions internally.

As soon as she lowered her eyes, however…

"He really hurt my feelings!"

"Alright," sighed Gwen to herself as she set the napkin on the table, deciding that dinner had officially come to an end. "Arthur… you need to talk to him."

"Well, I've got nothing to say to him! And if anything, he should be the one talking to me, he is the one who owes me an apology!"

"Oh, Arthur," his wife chided patiently. "This can't be the first time you've said hurtful things to each other… and I wouldn't be surprised if he deserved a few apologies from hurtful things you've said to him."

"Are you honestly taking his side?"

"Arthur, there are no sides," Gwen pointed out with a faint chuckle. "That is my point. You and Merlin have been allies since the moment you've met… bickering allies, but allies nonetheless."

The king sank back in his seat, like a brooding teenager who knows perfectly well they are in the wrong and yet refuse to make peace with that.

"Even you have to admit that when you two are on the same page, you can be the best versions of yourselves. And right now, the only way to reach an agreement is for one of you to take the first step."

Who should have been the one to do so was another matter entirely, one Guinevere was not going to dwell on, seeing as she had plenty of reasons to be biased. Moreover, it was not truly important who should be the one to approach the other first, just as long as one of them did.

"And what if we can't?" asked Arthur at last, swallowing around the lump forming in his throat at the prospect of that task getting them nowhere near a reconciliation. "Reach an agreement, I mean. What if all we do is fall out and never recover? Because of her."

Gwen blinked upon hearing how dismissively Arthur had uttered the word 'her', as if disgusted by the mere thought of Wendy. She paused for a moment to think.

"In that case… I think there is someone else you should talk to before you even speak to Merlin again. Otherwise… in this state, yes, you will most definitely cause the two of you to fall out."

The king sighed once more, annoyed that it was him who had to make compromises when he was so convinced he was on the right. Nevertheless, he had to admit —he would never do it, of course, but he had to— that his wife was right. As long as he carried within him that resentment and anger towards the young woman, all he would do is attack her, which would only result in upsetting Merlin even further.

Somehow, he had to find it in him to reach some sort of truce with Wendy. He couldn't bring himself to trust her, not in a million years, but perhaps there was something he could hold onto at least until he had straightened things out with his friend. Something to distract him from how suspicious he found her— which of course did not mean that he would not investigate her later. As a matter of fact, he had no intention of telling his knights —who had been instructed to keep a close eye on her— to stand down.

"Say, Merlin?"

"My Lord?"

The silent treatment between them was short-lived. After all, Merlin was still Arthur's servant, which meant there was only so long they could spend without addressing each other. However, ever since their little spat, whenever they did address each other, they would do so in the most formal of terms, like any other king would interact with his servant, had they not formed the bond that these two young men most certainly had. It was as close as they could get to being on no-speaking terms.

"I would like you to arrange an audience."

"Aye, sire."

"With Wendy."

At that time, Merlin stopped clearing out the table, setting the tray with the remains of Arthur's breakfast to the side as he stared at him in awe, almost in disbelief.

"What?"

Arthur, on the other hand, continued to scribble away in his scroll nonchalantly, as if he hadn't just made a suggestion that sounded most definitely uncharacteristic of him. In the spirit of acting as if he had said nothing extraordinary, he looked up at his servant and appeared to be in turn confused by his surprise.

"Problem?"

"Uh… n-no, sire," replied Merlin with narrowed eyes as he decided to proceed with caution. "And what would be the purpose of this… audience?"

"Well…" He paused to set his quill in his ink pot. "—it's been brought to my attention that I may not have been… very welcoming of her."

"Understatement of the year, go on."

"And as king, I realize that maintaining a good relationship with my subjects… all of my subjects, is not only key. It is also my responsibility."

"Right…"

"Therefore, I would like Wendy and I to… get to know each other, as it were. Show her that she is welcome in Camelot. And I expect— hope, that is, that in return she'll show me that there is no reason I should distrust her."

"Arthur… Look, I— appreciate the gesture, I do, but I don—"

"That'd be all."

And so Merlin sighed, letting his argument fade away. Despite the fact that things between him and the king of Camelot were currently tense, he had learned to pinpoint the moments when it was useless to try and talk Arthur out of something. He picked up the tray, finished his task and bowed his head absentmindedly.

"My Lord," he greeted him before dismissing himself and leaving the room.