I am sorry for the long wait and for yanking your hopes around with the author's notes. Hopefully this chapter (somewhat on time) will make up for it.

Also, I have written/am writing a collection of drabbles in the Merlin fandom called To the Heart if you are interested in having your heart stabbed repeatedly.

...

"It would be my absolute honor to serve you, the prince of Camelot," Cedric gushed.

Arthur was impressed. He had only met the man several times over the course of the past week (somehow, he kept popping up when Merlin wasn't around), but he had made a good impression on Arthur.

For one, he didn't come across as lazy and imcompetant. Second, he seemed to value working for a member of the royal household exceedingly more than Merlin, who compared him to bovines and other various livestock on a regular basis. Finally, Arthur knew that fae blood didn't run through his veins because he had seen him grab a metal tray without so much as a wince or a burn. Although Arthur wasn't exactly not-prejudiced or prejudiced against fae blood (it was a mess)...it was easier to trust Cedric than Merlin, in a way.

If he was trying to make a bid for the position of Arthur's manservant, he was doing an excellent job.

"I see," Arthur mused.

At that moment, Merlin was taking care of some other task somewhere else. From past experience, he would probably return in an hour, so there was no chance of him interrupting while Arthur mulled over the problem.

Merlin had saved his life, a small part of his brain reminded him. Was sacking him any way to repay the debt?

No, but Merlin also made him jumpy half of the time. Merlin said weird, savage, and soft things. Merlin got a strange, far-away look in his eye. Just when Arthur thought Merlin was a normal person, he surprised Arthur in some way. He was constantly reminded that Merlin was far from human.

But what would he do if Merlin decided he didn't like being sacked?

There were unlimited possibilities to what an enraged fae could do to the surrounding citadel.

To Arthur.

Merlin, however, hated blood. Surely he could distract Merlin. Since he was always complaining about what a great "prat" Arthur was, he would no doubt be relieved to be released from his duties.

And his father would certainly improve after the incident with the Faefinder and Merlin's insubordination.

He came to a decision.

"I need to speak with one of my men, but you may attend to my manservant's duties tomorrow morning," Arthur told Cedric. "I will speak with Merlin."

Cedric beamed. "Thank you, sire. I am truly appreciative of this opportunity to serve you and Camelot." Deeply, he bowed.

Arthur found the corner of his lips turning up.

Perhaps he was making the right decision.

…

"Have you met that fellow Cedric?" Merlin complained as he folded Arthur's laundry. "He's awful. "

"Yes, I have met him." Arthur covered up a yawn with his palm. Some scholar had found an ancient secret passage (a title that made Arthur snorted when he thought about it) underneath the castle, and with the loud tappings of the excavation, Arthur had been unable to obtain a good night's rest.

"Then you know what a terrible bootlicker he is!" Merlin threw his hands in the air, tossing a sock to the left.

It handed on Arthur's face.

This was why he was replacing Merlin with Cedric.

"I think he's even worse than George," Merlin went on, oblivious as Arthur gingerly removed the sock from his face.

"Merlin, you gossip worse than a grandmother." Arthur wadded up the sock and threw it at the back of Merlin's head.

Inhumanly, Merlin ducked and caught it without looking back.

Arthur shivered.

Another reminder.

But then Merlin turned and grinned at him. "You should hear some of the tortoises if you think I'm bad."

Instantly, Arthur felt guilty.

Merlin didn't know what was coming to him. He would be angry, sure, but more than likely, he would be hurt at being sacked.

He was torn between the two.

"Listen," he said gruffly. "I haven't been able to get a decent sleep lately-"

"Is that why you've been such a grouch?" Merlin asked him.

"Yes. I mean - no! Quit trying to distract me, Merlin. I haven't been able to sleep well because of the racket they're making down there."

Merlin nodded in understanding. "The excavation."

"Yes. I want you to go down and tell them to be more quiet," Arthur instructed.

"But it's cold down there," Merlin complained. "The part under the castle is dank and awful and-"

Wait a second. "Since when have you been down there?" Arthur demanded.

Merlin paled. "Uh...the Aufric or whatever it's called?" he tried.

Something was suspicious about this. "Are you asking me or telling me?" he stood. "When else have you been down below the castle?"

Arthur himself hadn't made the trip since he was a child and was exploring the foregin parts of the castle while playing hide and seek with Morgana.

"I'm...telling you," Merlin decided. "It's dank and awful. But don't you worry about it!" he tacked on hastily. "I'll go tell them right away to cut down on the racket." Before Arthru could comment or inquire further, Merlin ducked out the door, abandoning the laundry and scattering it about the room like cracked corn for ducks.

The conversation cemented Arthur's decision. Merlin was acting awfully suspicious. Perhaps it would be better if Merlin worked elsewhere in the castle.

And, if he were lucky, it would take Merlin a little bit of time to figure out that he'd been fired.

After all, it had taken Merlin three weeks to figure out where the kitchens were, and that was with Gwen's help.

…

Merlin stood in the middle of his room, mouth agape. "What?"

"You can take the day off," Arthur repeated irritably. "Go collect herbs for Gaius something or visit the tavern like Gwaine does. I don't really care."

Cedric was going to be there any minute to "officially" wake Arthur up, and he would rather that the two did not cross paths. Merlin was only there so early because he insisted Arthur rise with the sun to appreciate its true beauty or some other rot like that.

Arthur couldn't treasure or admire anything when his eyes were plastered shut.

"Are you feeling ill?" Merlin advanced towards him, his palm outstretched. "Let me check your forehead for a fever."

"No!" Arthur swatted out him and scooted as far away from him as he could on the bed.

"Come on, Arthur," Merlin chided him.

It gave him flashbacks to his old nursemaid.

"No. Why aren't you leaving? Haven't you been bugging me for days on end for a day off?" Arthur frowned. He couldn't think of a solid reason for Merlin to need a day off, and the possibilities of what one fae could do in twenty-four hours were, frankly, quite frightening. Perhaps…

"Yes, but you're acting very suspicious." Merlin eyed him. "Are you sure you're not ill and trying to cover it up? I thought you would sleep better tonight. I got the excavators to be quieter."

Suspicious. That was why. Merlin was suspicious. "I'm not ill. Now get out of here before I make you." Arthur reached for his boots, which were underneath his bed on that side.

Merlin shot him a look that was a cross between suspicious and hurt and made his way to the door. "If I come back tomorrow, and you're hacking your lungs out onto the floor, you can go get Gaius yourself," he shot over his shoulder sulkily.

"Fine!"

The door slammed shut behind the fae.

Slouching back down into his pillow, Arthur breathed out a sigh of relief. Merlin was distracted for the whole day, and he had plenty of time to figure out how to deal with the situation.

Perfect.

A respectful knock resounded on the door.

"Come in," he said.

Cedric opened the door. "Ah, I see you are awake, sire. May I tempt you with some breakfast?"

As his new manservant brought in a tray full of food, Arthur breathed out another sigh of happiness.

As he picked up his goblet of wine, he thought, here's to less stressful days and less checking over my shoulder.

…

"Where's Merlin?" Percival asked him, taking a scoop of water out of the training barrel.

Arthur adjusted his gloves. "He has the day off."

Percival shot him a strange look. "The day off? Since when did you give Merlin a day off?"

Arthur scowled. Merlin was his manservant, and he didn't see why half of the castle had to question where he was. "He's my ruddy manservant, and I'll give him a day off whenever I please."

"That's the problem," Percival chose his words carefully. "You never please."

Before Arthur could reply (he had a scathing answer on the tip of his tongue that was sure to nip any further investigation in the bud), Leon approached them, raking a hand across his sweaty forehead.

"Hey, where's Merlin?" he asked.

This was getting a little ridiculous.

"The whereabouts of my mans- Merlin does not concern any of you," Arthur declared. "I suggest you leave the matter alone."

Leon crossed his arms. "If you will allow me to be so blunt, sire, out with it."

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur could not believe what he was hearing. "There's nothing to discuss."

"We just want to know what happened between you and Merlin."

By now, their confrontation had attracted the other nights, and a tight circle was forming around Arthur. He didn't like it. He felt trapped. There was no reason for them to corner the prince of Camelot like that.

"Nothing happened between Merlin and me," Arthur stressed. "He is a servant."

"Did you insult him worse than usual?" Gwaine asked. "Say something about his mother or father, by any chance?"

"His mother or father? No, of course not!" Although Arthur was dreadfully curious about where Merlin had come from, it was awkward to pry into Merlin's personal affairs. Merlin clammed up at all attempts to find out anything.

Leon and Percival exchanged glances.

"Listen," Gwaine tried. "Whatever this rift between you and Merlin is, we want to help the two of you fix it. Did he say something about Gwen?"

"Gwen?" This was getting ridiculous! "What in the blue blazes does Gwen have to do with this? Has Merlin been interacting with her a lot? Did he threaten her or something?"

Fie, he'd forgotten to tell Morgana to warn Gwen to stay away from Merlin.

"No," Lancelot said carefully.

"Well...good."

Arthur didn't know why he was so relieved.

"We just want to know why you gave Merlin the day off," Gwaine said. "And make sure that everything's fine."

Arthur felt as though he were about to explode. "Nothing. Happened. Merlin has the day off. That is all."

Once more, the circle exchanged glances.

Exasperated, Arthur shouldered his way past them. As he walked off, he overheard the last bits of their conversation.

"We should talk to Merlin."

"I'll go find him."

"I'll take Arthur."

…

"So, you're the one who drew the short stick," Arthur snapped whenever he heard the light thud of boots against the hay of the stables. He continued petting the horse, working his fingers into its mane.

Lancelot held up his hands as he came side by side with Arthur. "We're just trying to help."

"I don't need help."

Lancelot didn't comment but reached into his pocket and took out an apple, which he extended to Arthur.

Although Arthur was tempted to refuse the apple on principle, the horse butted him in the arm. Whenever he gave the fruit to it, it crunched through it noisily.

"We just know how...temperamental fae can be," Lancelot began. "We don't want any...issues cropping up."

Oh. Well, that made much more sense. They weren't concerned about his and Merlin's relationship. They were concerned about not causing a magical war.

Arthur found he didn't mind pouring out the problem so much, then.

"I gave him the day off because I'm trying to figure out how to fire him," Arthur said.

Lancelot raised his eyebrows. "Fire Merlin?"

"Yes. First off, he is a horrible manservant. He barely knows how to scrub. He's insubordinate, and he makes me feel on edge." Arthur could have compiled a much greater list, but he didn't want to drive away his only supporter.

"I thought…" Lancelot chose his words carefully. "I thought you were much more relaxed about Merlin even though..."

Even though he was a fae.

"Yes, well. I've found a much more suitable replacement." Arthur continued to pat the horse even when it began sniffing his sleeves in search of another apple.

Cedric was more suitable to the position. And he wasn't fae. And he cared a whole lot more about position and propriety than Merlin did.

As he waited for Lancelot's judgment, he repeated this argument over in his head. There was no reason for him to be ashamed of his decision.

"I see," Lancelot said carefully. "I take it you haven't told Merlin yet?"

"No."

"Would you like me to?" Lancelot offered.

Arthur latched on to his offer. "Yes, thank you."

"All right." Lancelot reached out to scritch behind the horse's ear. "You know...you can always change your mind."

"Of course."

Lancelot turned to leave.

The matter was settled.

…

Merlin burst into his rooms. "You can't be serious!"

Arthur started. "Merlin! What in-"

Merlin marched straight up to him and stuck a finger in his face. "You fired me!"

Suddenly, Arthur felt very cold. He hadn't intended for Merlin to actually come back. That was why he had asked Lancelot in the first place. It was better to deal with Merlin at a distance - especially when Merlin was bound to get angry.

What if Merlin decided to kill him? Surely he wouldn't have saved Arthur's life twice (or was it thrice?).

"There's no reason to get angry," Arthur said.

"It's because of that numbskull Cedric, isn't it?" Merlin seethed.

Arthur had never seen Merlin so angry before. The finger pointed at Arthur's face was shaking.

Merlin took Arthur's silence for a positive answer. "I knew it," he fumed. He turned away and stomped around the room before returning to Arthur, who was paralyzed in his chair. "I refuse to accept your firing."

So he wasn't going to die.

But Merlin's assertion wasn't much better.

"Excuse me?" Arthur demanded. "I am the prince of Camelot. If I say that you're fired, you're fired."

"Your opinion has been duly noted and duly ignored."

Arthur was flabbergasted. "Excuse me?" he said more incredulously.

"I'm going to find this Cedric," Merlin threatened, his eyes flashing and the bit of magic around him flaring up, "and when I do-"

Here was the homicidal part. "Please," Arthur begged. "Please do not kill Cedric."

Merlin walked over and banged his head into the wall. "How many times do I have to tell you - I'm a half-pacifist!"

Merlin wasn't making any sense. Perhaps he was so angry he was insane.

He had to try something to keep the situation from escalating further. If Merin used his magic, if he attacked Arthur, if Uther found out - "Merlin, for the safety of everyone involved, get out."

Looking over his shoulder, Merlin sent Arthur a hurt look. "I thought you were finally starting to like me."

Why in fae did Merlin have to look like a kicked puppy?

Fie, he was in such a mess.

"I'm leaving," Merlin told him sourly, solving the quandary for him. "But I'll be back. I'm going to prove to you that Cedric is up to no good."

"That's what you always say," Arthur pointed out, gaining a little courage back now that he saw which way the conversation was going. No one was going to be murdered.

"That's because I'm always right." On his way out, Merlin slammed the door, making the wood rattle.

Arthur breathed out a shaky sigh of relief.

…

That evening, as Arthur was drifting off to sleep after a perfectly normal day and a perfectly normal new manservant, the rattling started.

Boom. Boom. Thud. Tsssssssss.

Groaning, he rolled over. "Blast you, Merlin," he muttered before remembering that he'd sacked Merlin and that Cedric would be asleep at that hour.

Boom.

Rolling over, he plugged his ears, but the noises seemed to be amplified as the evening continued.

Eventually, Arthur sat up.

He did not catch much sleep that night.

…

Boom. Crack. Boom.

The past twenty-four hours had been a living nightmare for Arthur. Everything had been normal. Everything had been perfect. He was no longer distracted trying to catch Merlin using magic behind his back, and no infernal whistling rang in his ears all hours of the day.

He was miserable.

And now he was condemned to listen to the shriekings of the excavations until the wee hours of the morning. That afternoon, his father had informed him of the tomb that had been discovered, but Arthur had been focusing more on staying awake than on his father's words.

The knights had been quieter than usual, and when he ran into Gwen in the hallways, she brushed past him without a smile or a stutter. To top it off, Morgana, although there was no reason it should have been any of her concern, had shot him a nasty look.

He didn't understand it. It should have been easy to let Merlin go. It should have been a relief.

Why was it so ruddy awful?

Scratch.

Groaning, Arthur rolled over and muffled his mouth with his pillow. The creativity of the sounds was increasing.

The scratching noise happened again, and Arthur was tempted to throw a goblet somewhere.

Wait a second.

The scratching noise wasn't coming from the floor. It was coming from his window, and it sounded as though something were scraping against the stone.

Despite the sleepy fog threatening to descend upon his mind, Arthur tossed the covers off.

On his way over to the window, he jammed his feet into his boots and snatched up his sword from where it was leaning against the wall, prepared.

Scritch.

Without prior warning, Arthur threw open the tapestry.

SCREEEEEEEEEE.

At the same time, a large mass fell from the window.

Arthur thrust the upper half of his body out of the window.

A large black shadow fell to the ground and cracked, scattering across the cobblestones in hundreds of pieces.

A figure stepped out of the shadows and waved at him.

"Merlin?"

Although there was no way that the fae could have heard him from up there, Merlin jerked a hand up in recognition. It wasn't exactly a friendly wave, but it was more recognition than he had been expecting.

"What in fae is going on?" he hissed.

Angrily, Merlin gestured at the stones.

Arthur yanked himself back in the window. Miming wasn't going to get them anywhere.

As he pulled the tapestry shut, someone knocked on his door. "Who is it?" he asked, bending down to lace up his boots.

"Me."

Through the thick wood of the door, he recognized Gwaine's voice.

Arthur threw open the door. "What is going on?"

"Someone enchanted the statues of the griffins," Gwaine explained, and for once, he wasn't telling a tall tale under the influence of a heavy round of stout.

"Someone?"

Arthur was going to wring Merlin's skinny neck.

"Not our someone. Someone else's someone. Merlin didn't explain it very well. You coming?"

"Of course." Arthur yanked on a shirt. "Let's go."

He followed Gwaine throughout the awakening castle. Every once in a while, another rumble broke out from underneath the castle.

Out in the street, the noises were louder, and the ground shook. As soon as he spotted them, Merlin ran over. "Griffins," he explained shortly.

"That's what you told me last time," Gwaine complained. "I want to know how and which person to beat up."

Arthur found it very difficult to look Merlin in the face.

Merlin whirled around, raised a hand, and shot off a stream of words. Although Arthur couldn't see his eyes, a blast of magic erupted in the air, shattering another stone creature.

"Do you have it under control?" Arthur asked.

Merlin turned around. "No. I don't know the right words."

"Blimey!" Gwaine exclaimed. "Aren't you a fae?"

"Yes, but I've had a little bit of a memory problem since I woke up!"

If Gwaine and Merlin continued at it, nothing would get done. He could forget about the whole mess with Merlin and Cedric later. "What do you need us to do?"

"There's a dragon in your basement," Merlin promptly informed him. "I need you to keep everyone safe from the griffins while I go pledge myself to be his eternal servant in return for the right words."

Above the noise, Gwaine whistled through his teeth. "Wow, Merlin, mate, are you sure you want to do that?"

"What do you mean, there's a dragon in my basement?" Arthur demanded. "Is this some sort of a joke to you?"

"Not literally! Can you do that?"

"Yes. Go," Arthur ordered, drawing his sword.

Merlin dashed off.

"The other knights are going to be here soon," Gwaine said, "but those things can climb castle walls. What do you think our chances of survival are?"

"Slim," Arthur replied grimly as the next griffin bounded around a corner of a building. "Very slim."

…

Arthur's hand was bruised and bleeding, but he refused to let the sword drop from his grasp. The griffin must have been able to sense the tangy liquid, for it cocked its head to the side and let out a caw of triumph.

None of the other knights were in sight.

As it prepared to leap, its muscles bunched.

Arthur braced himself, widening his stance.

"Ha!" someone cried.

A chunk of stone cracked into the griffin's head, and it collapsed over on its side.

"Gwen?"

In amazement, Gwen took a step backwards as she took in what she had just done before looking up. "Your Highness! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine! Have you seen the others?"

"Yes."

Still shocked at what she had just done, Gwen brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Where's Merlin?"

That was what they were all wondering. Arthur half-expected a dragon to come crashing out of the roof of the castle, but there had been no sign of either a large fiery beast or a small fiery fae.

"You!"

The word rang about the street, attracting the attention of the rest of the griffins.

But it wasn't Merlin's voice. It was Cedric's, but much colder and harsher than Arthur remembered.

After pushing Gwen to the safety of a building, Arthur ran towards it.

"Yes, me!" a saucy voice replied.

What in the ruddy name of fae was happening? Why was Cedric there?

Trying to find the two of them in the maze of streets was akin to finding a cask of wine that Gwaine hadn't touched or laid his eyes on.

Merlin shouted a string of words in the language of magic.

Around Arthur, the griffins collapsed into piles of rubble, sending up miniature dust clouds. Without the crashing of the mythical beasts, Arthur was able to find Merlin and Cedric.

In the center of the street, the two of them stood facing each other. It looked like some strange and melodramatic duel, but neither of them were moving. As he approached them, Arthur raised his sword.

"Merlin, is he fae?" he yelled.

Their heads snapped in his direction.

"No, no, no, no, no." Merlin took a step forward. "Arthur, get out of here."

Whenever they finished this debatacle, Arthur needed to straighten Merlin out on who was ordering whom, but for the moment, he concentrated on Cedric.

"Is he fae?" he repeated, keeping the sword elevated towards Cedric's neck despite the distance between them.

"No, it's worse!" Merlin cried.

Arthur didn't see what could be worse than a fae besides the literal King of Fae.

"He's possessed! By a ghost!"

Cedric smiled. "My name is Cornelius Sigan. I was once fae."

Merlin began shooting out words rapid-fire. "His essence - I can't remember the exact words to describe it in human terms, but it was trapped in a stone in the basement."

Gradually advancing, Arthur nodded.

"And Cedric here was going to steal all of your silver teaspoons, but when he heard about the artifacts in the tomb - including the blue stone, which you might not remember your father telling you about because you were half-asleep - he decided-"

"Enough!" Cedric/Sigan cut Merlin off. "I do not have the patience to listen to your prattle."

"Well, that makes two of us," Arthur muttered before raising his voice. "What do you want?"

"Power, Pendragon. And may I say that Merlin is only slightly correct. 'Cedric' cannot use magic. But I can."

Before Arthur could digest the words, a loud crack sounded over his head, and when he looked up, he was met with blackness.

…

Arthur became conscious to the sound of voices.

Because of the ringing in his ears, however, he was unable to hear what was being said. As he groaned, his head lolled to the side.

For a brief moment, he caught a bit of their conversation.

"I serve Arthur, not you."

"Do you think the High King will be pleased to hear about this?"

"You won't be able to tell him," Merlin shot back.

Their voices danced in and out of the fog for several seconds before Arthur's head cleared again.

Then, Merlin was hissing, "I do not care if he hears. I am Emrys."

A crack.

A flash of light that burned the inside of Arthur's eyes.

Silence.

…

"I knew Cedric was up to no good," Merlin crowed. "But did you listen to me?"

"You can drop me and let me die," Arthur muttered to Leon, who was shouldering him.

Leon made a rumble of amusement in the back of his throat.

"Nooo," Merlin went on. "You don't listen to Merlin. What does he know?"

Arthur was considering passing out, but catching a sight of Gwen approaching, picking her way through the stones scattered about, stopped them. He checked for any sign of injuries, but aside from wrinkles in her dress, she appeared to be fine.

"Instead," Merlin continued, "we fire Merlin!"

Why were none of the assembled knights stopping him?

As she came up to Arthur, Gwen curtsied. "Are you all right, sire?"

Well, at least one person cared enough to ask. "I'll be fine after a few stitches." Although his skin and muscles pulled, he made a fist with one hand.

"Would you like me to fetch the court physician?" Gwen asked.

"I'll handle it," Elyan volunteered before Arthur could speak up, shooting Merlin a look that indicated he thought the fae was crazy.

"And we don't even tell him to his face because we are a prat!" Merlin concluded, his face turning red.

Along with reporting to his father, Arthur was going to have the gash on his side stitched and his hand bandaged. Afterwards, he was going to take a nice, hot bath; eat a nice, hot dinner; and crawl into his nice warm bed. But first?

First, he was going to fix the mess that he had started in the first place. If he had trusted Merlin in the first place and thrown Cedric out...

"Merlin," he interrupted the tirade, "while it is encouraging to hear you use words outside your normal limited vocabulary, don't you have something else you need to be doing?"

"Like what?" Merlin demanded haughtily, putting his hands on his hips.

Despite their exhaustion, none of the remaining knights or Gwen moved. For some strange reason, they looked to Arthur expectantly.

"Like what?" Arthur gave Merlin his best you are a lazy, good-for-nothing imbecile look. "Like polishing my boots."