A/N: Thank you to everyone who left reviews! Guests, I can't respond to you personally, but I read every one and it's the reason I keep updating. Thanks also to the readers who have waited for years (literally) for updates and still leave comments- you guys are the reason I picked this story up again and I am very grateful.

Percival was worried about Merlin, and he didn't know what to do. Feelings weren't his specialty, and neither was diplomacy. His specialties were, in order, stabbing, slashing, parrying, and slicing- none of which were helpful now. With every passing day, Merlin spoke to him less and less. He didn't seem to be eating much, if at all, and the knight got the impression that the trips into town were to blame.

He and Alice had separately implored Merlin to let the physician handle the deliveries but the stubborn kid wouldn't be swayed. Percival wished he didn't know why, but he understood that to Merlin this was the best way he could think of to pay back his blood debt. On the deliveries he accompanied the sorcerer on (and he suspected Merlin was embarking on solo trips when he wasn't around), they were met with nothing but hostility. He got the sense that a lot of people held their tongues at the sight of a knight but others were apparently too angry to care. Just that morning they had been on their way to a blacksmith's house when a boy no older than 15 strode up and pushed Merlin, hard.

Percival had caught him just before he hit the ground and knelt, one hand on his sword and a livid expression on his face.

"We don't need no monsters here," the boy shouted, fists clenched at his sides. Several people had joined up behind him and Percival felt, uneasily, that the situation was about to get out of hand.

"This man is a member of the King's council. To do him harm is punishable by death, boy." Percival's tone could only politely be described as civil, forced through bared teeth.

"He's a killer," someone else said, and there were jeers of support.

"I'm sorry," Merlin began, feebly, and Percival pulled him away. He didn't want to hurt civilians, even when a part of him felt they deserved it.

Arthur had been, for lack of a better word, avoiding Merlin. He felt guilty about it, and talked to Gwen about it constantly, but things didn't feel as easy as they had before. They felt broken. Like a plate someone had smashed and then patched together, their relationship felt... ginger. He didn't know how to handle it without breaking it further and so he kept his distance.

"Just talk to him," Gwen murmured for the fifth time, her voice muffled by her side of the blanket. It was very late, and they had had this conversation before.

"And say what? 'Hey Merlin, glad you're not a dragon anymore. Wanna hold my shield for me?'" Arthur dropped his head back onto his pillows with a groan. "I could hardly get him to talk to me before."

"That's because he thought you'd have him executed," came the sleepy reply.

"Thank you, Guinevere," he sighed, and stared up at the canopy of their bed for a few moments before hoisting himself upright. "Okay. I guess... Wish me luck."

"Luck," Gwen said, the word ending in a soft snore.

George, as irritatingly available as ever, had him dressed within five minutes. Arthur longed for the days with an inept servant, if only to get more time to think of what he wanted to say. He practiced speeches on his way to the physician's quarters. Hey Merlin, how's the dance practice going? Hey Merlin, want to come scare all the deer away on a hunt tomorrow? Hey Merlin, I miss you.

Upon arriving, and knocking, he realized the time when he saw it etched in Alice's face.

"My lord?" Her braid was fluffy with sleep.

"Alice. I'm sorry for the late hour." His tone was embarrassed, not kingly, and he made an effort to compose himself. "Would it be possible for me to speak with Merlin?"

"I'll wake him." Her features softened and she gave him a brief but warm smile before turning away, trudging up the short stairway that led to the ex-servant's quarters. Unsure of what to do, Arthur waited in the hall. "Merlin?" She called, knocking quietly before swinging open the door. The sudden aperture revealed an empty and neatly made bed.