Another's Favor by ebhg

Rating: T

Pairings: Merthian/Arwen

Spoilers: Series 1-4 and up to episode 4 of Series 5.

Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to BBC.

A/N: Thanks for all the awesome reviews! I figured you guys would be anxious for this chapter after the last one, and I think you'll all be pleased. :)


An Offer

Two days after the celebratory feast, Mithian stood beside her father on the stairs outside the palace as Arthur and Gwen said their farewells to King Odin. The inhabitants of Camelot's elegant palace were entirely glad to see their new ally leave. Mithian had endured far too many appraising gazes since Odin had voiced his interest in her. It had left their common mealtimes rather tense. Mithian had felt sorry for Arthur, as the King of Camelot had been forced to mediate between Odin and Rodor over the unwanted attentions. Even the ever-patient Guinevere could not hide her displeasure; Merlin had been invaluable in defusing the tensions that hung around the royal supper table like a rain cloud.

Mithian turned her head slightly in an effort to catch a glimpse of said manservant, positioned as he was a few steps behind Arthur and Guinevere. He stood respectfully, hands clasped behind his back, and head lowered in deference. However, from where she stood on the steps, Mithian could see the impertinent grin that Merlin was struggling to contain. Odin mentioned something about visiting again that Mithian couldn't be bothered to listen to; Merlin had just bit down on his lower lip to keep from laughing aloud. Mithian pressed her lips firmly together to contain her own grin as she watched Merlin struggle with his. The sound of horse's hooves retreating over the cobblestones forced Mithian to turn away from her study just as Merlin smiled brightly.

"Thank the gods that's over," King Arthur muttered irreverently as he too let his formal decorum slip with a long sigh. Guinevere smiled at her husband's relief and laughed.

"Glad to see him go, are you?" The queen chuckled.

"Of course I am, do not deny that you are happy to see him go," Arthur answered, smiling at his wife.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Guinevere replied, glancing at Mithian and rolling her eyes in fond exasperation as Arthur complained of Odin's trying personality. The royals turned then and began climbing the stairs. Merlin waited on the steps for a few seconds after the king and queen had disappeared inside. Mithian eyed him curiously, and had just opened her mouth to ask what he was doing when Merlin held a finger to his lips.

"Wait for it..." he said, smiling widely at Mithian's confusion, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Any second now..."

"Merlin! Get your lazy backside moving!" Arthur's disembodied voice bellowed from within the entry.

"And there it is," Merlin chuckled; Mithian laughed delightedly at being let in on Merlin's joke.

"You've got him well trained," Mithian teased.

"As any good servant does," Merlin confirmed with mock solemnity.

"NOW!"

"And that is my cue to get moving," Merlin said cheekily; granting Mithian a playful grin and a farewell nod, he followed sedately after his king and queen, Mithian's delighted laughter in his wake.


King Rodor was healing well, though the week in captivity with Morgana and Odin seemed to have aged him more than the last few years had. Even so, Gaius expected the King of Nemeth to be rested sufficiently to make the journey home within the next seven to ten days. Mithian had bittersweet feelings on the thought of returning to Nemeth. While she was grateful to see her home freed from a twisted man's tyranny, there was something about Camelot that drew Mithian in.

It was that evening as Mithian was preparing for bed that she felt the magical bracelet that Morgana had locked onto the princess' wrist begin to warm. Mithian looked down at it in alarm, her heart pounding at the memory of the pain the witch had inflicted. As it heated further, it caused her to cry out in panic and wildly look around the otherwise-empty room. Mithian calmed somewhat when she recalled what Morgana had said about the nature of the bracelet. The witch had promised rather gleefully that she didn't have to be nearby to cause the princess excruciating pain. Mithian calmed further when it became apparent that the bracelet was not going to heat up to its full, red-hot potential. The princess could only hope that the lesser heat meant Morgana was a long ways away.

Though the warmth emanating from the bracelet wasn't as intense as when Morgana was right beside her, it was painful enough to cause her eyes to sting. It aggravated the still-healing burn that Morgana had already seared into the princess' wrist, causing small blisters to form. Unfortunately, though she struggled and strained, all of Mithian's best efforts to remove the band around her wrist were in vain. Morgana's smug assurances that only magic could remove the item were not in jest. The more Mithian pulled on the bracelet, the further the encircling band tightened. It was not long until it was not the warmth that pained her, but the very snug fit. Mithian growled in hopeless frustration before she remembered that she knew someone who could take the blasted thing off without a problem.

Merlin.

Much as she had while trying to escape Morgana, Mithian darted out of her chambers, not caring that she was dressed only in her nightgown.


"Merlin, be sure that you grind that particular root very fine. It can be quite noxious if it isn't mixed properly and it mixes best when finely ground," Gaius said from where he sat across from his ward. Merlin paused in his task and looked at Gaius incredulously, wondering just what the physician meant by 'noxious.'

"I'm to come out in hives or boils after doing this, am I?" he asked, only half-joking.

"Only if you licked the pestle," the physician dryly replied without looking up from his book. Merlin grimaced.

"Why in the name of magic would I lick the pestle?! This thing smells like Arthur's socks after hours of training!"

"Then why are you worried about hives and boils?" Gaius asked unconcernedly, turning the page and grabbing his magnifying glass to study something closer. Merlin chuckled under his breath and shook his head in fond exasperation. Gaius certainly hadn't lost his sharp wit in his advanced years.

Merlin had just opened his mouth to deliver his own witty retort when the door to the chamber burst open, startling both men. Gaius only just managed to cut off his irritated reprimand when he realized that it was Princess Mithian in the doorway.

"Mithian!" Merlin exclaimed in surprise, looking to Gaius only to see his mentor's raised eyebrow. "I mean... Princess Mithian!" Merlin corrected.

"What can we help you with, Your Highness?" Gaius asked, more appropriately.

"It's just that... I... It's this..." Mithian suddenly bit her lip and looked over her shoulder into the corridor before hurriedly shutting the door and sliding the bolt into the lock. Merlin turned to Gaius, the both of them wearing matching expressions of surprise.

"Please, I need help getting this off," Mithian said, holding out her right arm, showing the bracelet and the burn that had blistered with the additional heat and her attempts to remove the band herself.

Merlin and Gaius were instantly on their feet, hurrying to the Princess to examine her wrist.

"What is this?" Gaius asked, turning the princess' hand over to see all of the markings inscribed into the metal.

"Morgana put this on you, didn't she?" Merlin asked, instantly recognizing what had happened. "You were never bound after Odin took Nemeth, were you?"

Mithian's face crumpled in her shame and she shook her head no. Merlin nodded in sympathy and squeezed her upper arm comfortingly, offering her a friendly smile.

"I wanted to tell you, when you asked. But she was right there; she had been using the bracelet to punish me when I tried to escape."

"I'm afraid that this cannot be removed except with powerful magic, Your Highness," Gaius said worriedly, trading a loaded glance with Merlin.

"That shouldn't be a problem though, right Merlin?" Mithian asked, looking boldly into the warlock's eyes. Gaius' eyes widened, and his eyebrow rose nearly to his hairline. Merlin felt the blood drain entirely from his face and he instinctively took a step back.

"What?" Merlin rasped out, his heart in his throat at the knowing look in Mithian's eyes.

"You could remove this, couldn't you?" Mithian asked pointedly, hope shining in her expression.

"I don't know what you mean," Merlin said, his throat closing in mild panic as he shook his head and tried to look as innocent as possible.

"I saw you, Merlin; I know what you are. Back at the tomb, your eyes glowed gold with magic. You caused that tremor. If that's not powerful magic, then I don't know what is, " Mithian said kindly in a soft whisper, though her voice strengthened with resolve with her next words. "It was not long afterwards that I realized, I don't care. I am here, in secret, asking you to use it, after all."

Merlin exhaled the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding and sat heavily on the tabletop behind him.

"You've not said anything," Merlin said shakily, unable to understand why the princess hadn't outed him the moment she'd seen his eyes glowing.

"Well," Mithian smiled mischievously. "Neither have you."

Merlin let out a breath of relief, and chuckled humorlessly.

"I knew of your magic for less than half an hour before I knew I would die before I exposed you," Mithian said, her voice steady and utterly serious. Merlin gave a grateful nod, knowing instinctively that Mithian was true to her word, and that she would not betray him.

"This is dangerous information, Princess," Gaius said gravely, finally finding his voice. "You are committing treason against the crown of Camelot, you understand. Not to mention your own father."

"Of course I understand, Gaius," Mithian said seriously, looking between the two gobsmacked men. "But it would seem I'm not alone in my treason."

Merlin did not miss the emphasis Mithian placed on 'not alone' as she had looked directly into his eyes. She was offering to be his friend, his confidante, in this monumental secret separating Merlin from everyone around him. The warlock and princess had yet to break eye-contact, speaking volumes within that one look. Finally, Mithian smiled impishly at Merlin, who laughed shakily and returned her smile, cementing the unspoken pact between them. Gaius looked knowingly between the two and stepped quietly back to his table, leaving them in semi-privacy.

"Please?" Mithian asked, holding her arm towards Merlin imploringly. His eyes softened as he stood once more and took Mithian's wrist to study the markings on the bracelet for himself. Mithian held her breath as Merlin's long fingers turned her hand to and fro, gently brushing her tender skin and sending a pleasant tingle up her arm. Mithian only just managed to stifle the shiver that desperately wanted to race down her spine.

"Ábirsteaþ sé earmbéag," Merlin finally whispered. Mithian watched transfixed as Merlin's eyes flared a brilliant, beautiful gold and the band fell away in two pieces. Neither spoke for a few minutes; Merlin avoided looking at Mithian's face by further inspecting the burn and scrapes around her wrist. He gestured wordlessly for her to follow him and led her to Gaius' wash basin. With a gentle, practiced touch, Merlin cleaned her injured wrist with a wash rag, then pulled her to the work table where he rummaged around until he found Gaius' healing balm and a length of linen bandaging.

"Why do you stay here?" Mithian whispered, her heart hurting for the secrecy that shrouded Merlin from his friends.

"It's as good a place as any," Merlin said softly. Mithian shook her head in disbelief.

"You've got to be in the worst place, the worst position possible for a sorcerer, Merlin," Mithian whispered as the manservant expertly tended to her wrist.

"Warlock," Merlin said, finishing his task and finally meeting Mithian's eyes.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, her face showing her confusion.

"I am not a sorcerer, I am a warlock."

"I'm guessing there's a difference, but you'll have to tell me what that is," Mithian chuckled. Merlin smiled at her easy acceptance and elaborated.

"I was born with magic; I've never known a time that I didn't have it. I could use it, manipulate it before I could talk."

"That's unusual, I suppose?"

"I suppose so," Merlin agreed simply, smiling at Mithian's trusting curiosity.

"Yes, he's entirely unusual," Gaius interjected dryly, reminding them of his presence. Mithian smiled in the physician's direction, though Gaius continued to look at his book as though he'd never spoken.

"Are you telling me that Merlin's completely strange or that he's just being modest?"

"It's entirely unusual that Merlin still has a head on his shoulders," Gaius said grumpily in answer, causing Mithian to laugh at the blush staining Merlin's cheeks. "And yes, he's being modest," Gaius admitted, still studying the tome in front of him. Mithian could see the pride in the physician's features, though. There was no doubt of the older man's true opinion of the lanky warlock. Mithian turned back to Merlin, surprised to see traces of anguish on his brow.

"I shouldn't have told you. This is very dangerous for you," Merlin whispered sadly, realizing that it was a little late for his remorse. There was just some facet of Mithian's character that completely disarmed his quick denials and reluctant lies. Mithian watched mesmerized as Merlin's face shifted through several emotions, his eyes most clearly betraying how vulnerable he was at that moment.

"No, you can't say that. Besides, You didn't tell me anything, I already knew. I simply forced a confirmation out of you. You can trust me. I'll not tell a soul," Mithian vowed, her honesty completely transparent.

"That won't matter if it comes to light that you knew but said nothing," Merlin argued, entirely conflicted.

"And that was my choice, wasn't it?" Mithian asked rhetorically, her expression firm. "But you didn't really answer my original question. Why are you here, in Camelot?"

Merlin studied her face for a moment, knowing Mithian would not be dissuaded. Then he took a deep breath and slowly released it.

"What do you know of the druids?" he asked.

"The druids?" Mithian asked, surprised at Merlin's seemingly random response.

"Yes, though more their legends than the people themselves," Merlin clarified.

"The Druids in Nemeth keep to the forest, eschewing the cities as a general rule. I know a few stories, though not faithfully. But I've heard plenty of bard's songs and my tutors told me many stories when I was a girl."

"Have you ever heard of The Once and Future King?"

"Yes! I used to love that story as a child," Mithian brightened, remembering the numerous times she had requested that particular tale. "I begged my nursemaid many times to tell me the story of the king so good and noble that magic would raise him again when the land needed him most. Though eventually I outgrew my nursemaid and my tutors refused to tell that story. They insisted that it wasn't suitable because it glorified magic."

"It's not just a story, it's actually a druidic prophecy," Merlin explained, gauging Mithian's expression. He continued when Mithian's brow furrowed in confusion. "Arthur is The Once and Future King," Merlin continued. Mithian's eyes widened as his words settled into her brain and she gasped as she looked Merlin in the eye.

"You were born with it..." she whispered, her mouth dropping open in shock. "Emrys..."

"So you do know the story," Merlin murmured, suddenly glad that he didn't have to explain something that still sent him reeling at the thought. He smiled a sheepish smile when Mithian reached out for the edge of the table to steady herself.

"You are Emrys," Mithian stated plainly. "The greatest sorcerer to walk these lands?"

"Well, warlock. I'm not sure about the greatest bit, but supposedly, yes," Merlin admitted, his expression wrinkling in embarrassment.

"And yet you are Arthur's servant."

"One and the same," Merlin answered with a cheeky grin.

"You scrub his socks and chamber pot," Mithian said, struggling to remain straight-faced. Merlin nodded with mock solemnity.

"With magic, no less," he whispered conspiratorially. The irony was too much. Mithian bit her lip, trying not to laugh, but one look at Merlin's sparkling eyes and she couldn't hold back. In a matter of seconds the both of them were laughing hysterically, their eyes streaming with tears and and their faces red.

"Are you two just about finished?" Gaius drawled, though he too was smiling. He had never seen his ward quite like this; it was refreshing to see some of the burden of Merlin's destiny lifted from his shoulders, if only momentarily. With a final sigh and a wipe of their eyes, Merlin and Mithian finally calmed down enough to stop laughing. Then Merlin's expression grew curious.

"We've been back in Camelot for two days now. You've known about my magic since before we returned. What made you wait until tonight to try and get that bracelet off?"

"To be honest, I had forgotten about it in all the stress of the negotiations. It hadn't so much as twinged. But tonight as I was preparing for bed, it began to heat up and I was panicking, trying to pry it off by myself. I had just about given up hope until I remembered that you would be able to remove it for me."

"It was getting hot? Tonight?! How was it activated before? Was there a certain trigger or did Morgana have to control it?" Merlin asked, somewhat alarmed at the possibility that Morgana was near or even in Camelot.

"She was the one to make it burn; it only tightened if I tried to take it off. But it didn't get very warm this time. Before, when she was right next to me, it became red hot- like a poker left too long in the flames. This time it merely felt like a warming stone left a bit long on the hearth. Hot, but not unbearable, except that it did more damage to my already injured wrist."

"Still, she can't have been very far away, to have been able to activate the spell on this," Merlin said, bending to pick up the two halves of the bracelet. Gaius, who had been following Merlin's train of thought, came to join him in scrutinizing the broken jewelry pieces.

"This spell may have had a range of a few miles," Gaius said after a moment's inspection. "Morgana would have wanted a failsafe if she and Mithian had somehow been separated on the ride from Nemeth or if the princess had tried to run."

"She only ever triggered it when she was right beside me," Mithian added, thrilled to be a part of Merlin's secret world.

"I'm sure she wouldn't have risked using it while you were here in Camelot unless she could see you. If anyone else had been witness to the punishment, Morgana's entire facade would have collapsed and Arthur wouldn't have left the castle," Gaius theorized.

"I wonder..." Merlin murmured, placing the half that he was studying upon his open palm and closing his eyes. Concentrating on the trace of magic left in the bracelet, Merlin expanded his awareness and followed the trail of magical energy with his mind. Within the forest a few miles outside the city, the trail faded into nothing. If Morgana had been there earlier, she was gone now.

"She must have transported herself; her trail disappears a few miles beyond the city," he said, opening his eyes.

"How did you do that?" Gaius asked incredulously.

"I just followed her magical signature from the bracelet with my mind. It was fairly simp-" Merlin began. Gaius' expression however, made him falter.

"What?"

"How you can be so brilliant one moment and so foolish the next never ceases to amaze me," Gaius said, causing Merlin's face to redden and Mithian to laugh.

"Do you think we should tell Arthur about it?" Mithian asked, her smile fading. Merlin looked to Gaius, an entire conversation passing between them in one glance.

"I'm not sure it will be necessary," Gaius began. "Morgana is long gone by now if she used a transportation spell. She has little to draw her in until she's gained a new ally and had time to lay her next plan."

"You think there will be a next plan?" Mithian asked, though the look on Merlin and Gaius' faces said enough.

"As long as Morgana lives and breathes, she will have a 'next plan,'" Merlin said ruefully.

"She has moved beyond vengeful, and into madness," Gaius said sadly, his eyes shining with regret as he thought of the young woman who had often visited his chambers seeking the answers that her father had denied her.

"Then we'd best be ready when she does," Mithian said fiercely, unwilling to be Morgana's pawn a second time.

"We will be," Merlin promised, looking at Mithian reassuringly as he fought the urge to reach for her hand. It caused an unusual warmth in his chest to hear Mithian include herself in protecting Camelot.

Gaius smiled at Merlin and Mithian then left the two of them alone and returned to his books once more. The princess shivered, suddenly realizing how cold she was in just her nightdress. Merlin looked down at her curiously, then his eyes widened comically.

"I'm so sorry, Mithian, I've been utterly thoughtless. You must be freezing," Merlin babbled, taking off his own coat and helping her into it. His fingers brushed over her shoulders and down her arms out of habit; the many years of dressing Arthur making the gesture second nature. Merlin fussed with the collar a bit and went about tugging and brushing at the jacket in an effort to help it sit better on the princess' shoulders, but he stopped himself when he looked up from his task and saw the princess smirking at him. His cheeks reddened slightly and he coughed to cover his embarrassment before leading Mithian to a seat at the hearth to warm her before she made the journey back to her quarters.

"Forbearnan," Merlin murmured, ignoring the flint and Gaius' disapproving eyebrow as he ignited the waiting logs with magic and stoking it to a warm blaze. Just as he had been many years before with Freya, Merlin was amazed at how freeing it was to do magic in front of Mithian. He felt giddy and suddenly, nothing seemed insurmountable. His burdens seemed lighter and Merlin thought that if he wasn't careful, he might just float into the air.

"Tell me more of what a secret warlock does in Camelot," Mithian entreated as Merlin dusted off his hands and sat on the floor beside her chair. Merlin laughed, his eyes flashing with mischief.

"Did Arthur ever tell you how I first met him?"

Mithian shook her head, a playful and eager smile on her lips as she gripped the warm material of Merlin's jacket in her fists and wrapped it more snugly around herself. The earthy, manly scent that permeated the garment filled Mithian's senses, and she found herself relaxing as she settled in to hear Merlin's tale.

"It was just my second day in Camelot. I didn't even know who Arthur was," Merlin began as he launched into a story that involved him, a dollop-headed prince, a couple of maces and the marketplace.


The following night, Mithian found herself restless as she tried settling into her bed. She'd had a fairly busy day with the queen and felt weary, yet Mithian was surprised to find herself unable to fall asleep. A few moments later, Mithian realized that she was absentmindedly rubbing at her bandaged wrist which inevitably reminded her of Merlin and his careful touch and tender care.

Mithian reached under the many pillows piled on her bed and pulled out the threadbare jacket that Merlin had draped around her the night before. Pressing it to her face, Mithian breathed in the combination of scents. Soot, herb, earth and something undefinable that was uniquely Merlin. Somehow, the scents blended together into a combination that was incredibly soothing. Mithian felt a bit guilty for keeping it, seeing as the manservant likely had no other, but the princess felt rather attached to the garment. Though if Mithian were honest, she would have to concede that it wasn't the jacket that she was drawn to, so much as its owner.

The princess smiled and replaced the well-worn jacket beneath her pillow. She didn't intend to keep it permanently; just until she had to return to Nemeth. Though the thought made her invariably sad. She was thinking of presenting Merlin with a new coat (he could certainly use one) simply so that she could take the old one home with her to Nemeth. Mithian sighed at herself, acting like an infatuated young girl over a coat. She was beginning to strongly suspect that the thin servant-warlock was at the root of her reluctance to return to Nemeth. Shaking her head, Mithian stood and, remembering at the last moment to put on her dressing gown, headed towards the physician's chambers.

Gaius was standing over a foul-smelling concoction of some sort when the princess slipped inside his door. Her eyes darted around, seeking a familiar form, but he wasn't to be seen.

"Can I help you Princess?"

Mithian startled, looking back to the expectant face of Camelot's court physician.

"My wrist," she offered in hurried explanation. "I was wondering if perhaps the bandage needed changing."

"Ahh, I'm sure it does, come and sit down and I'll have a look."

Mithian obediently sat in the chair Gaius indicated, trying to squash down the disappointment she felt at Merlin's absence.

"There, that should do it," Gaius said a moment later. "It's healing nicely. You should be fine to remove it in the morning and go without it."

"Thank y-"

Mithian was interrupted when the door opened suddenly and Merlin came in with a heavy pile of armor.

"That Dollophe- Mithian!" Merlin exclaimed, immediately swallowing his complaint as his face reddened and his heartbeat quickened unexpectedly at the sight of the princess.

"Good evening, Merlin," Mithian greeted, smiling indulgently at the warlock. "Bringing your work home?"

"Yes," Merlin said exasperatedly. "No rest for the wicked, and all."

"You are far from wicked," Mithian laughed.

"You might rethink that if you heard more of what I've done over the years," Merlin said sadly.

"I refuse to believe it on your word alone, so you will just have to relate some of these tales so that I might make a well-informed decision," Mithian said with mock solemnity. Merlin smiled and jerked his head towards the fire where they had spoken long into the previous night.

"Shall I start with the worst of them?" Merlin asked ruefully.

"I'm sure it can't be any worse than knowingly leading your friends and allies into a trap," Mithian said soberly. Merlin scoffed.

"I'm sure releasing a vengeful dragon on your friends is much worse than that," Merlin said lightly, unwittingly triggering Mithian's competitive nature.

"I'm sure you had your reasons, mine were purely selfish, I'm afraid."

"You? Selfish? I can hardly believe it," Merlin replied.

"Utterly selfish," Mithian insisted, smiling at Merlin encouragingly. "A dragon, you say?"

Merlin picked up a rag and Arthur's breastplate, polishing the metal slowly as he pondered where exactly to begin. The warlock raised an eyebrow at Mithian when the princess picked up a gauntlet and another rag.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping. You seem to have an unnatural aversion to help, Merlin."

The both of them ignored the irreverent snort that Gaius immediately stifled.

"You're a princess, you don't need to be doing this," Merlin said mulishly.

"Was your queen not once a blacksmith's daughter, accustomed to working a forge and wielding a sword? I am no different; the circumstances of our births may set us apart, but I am not your average princess. Women can work, too, you know."

"Believe me, I know. You should meet my mother."

"And I hope someday to meet her. Until then, let me help," Mithian chided. Merlin conceded with a small bow and a grin before he lapsed into silence, contemplating where to begin.

"My story is rather troublesome, full of betrayal and too many deaths. It started with a promise that I made long before I freed the dragon..." Merlin finally began, pulling Mithian into his story, unknowingly earning her forgiveness long before the tale was complete.


Merlin was the one mixing some sort of sickly-smelling remedy when Mithian slipped into Gaius' chambers the following night. The physician himself looked up from his reading when he heard the door latch shut.

"I suppose your wrist is bothering you again, Princess?" he asked kindly. It was clear to Mithian that the physician didn't believe his own words, though she was grateful for his pretense.

"Mithian," Merlin greeted happily, then his brow furrowed at her bare and clearly-healing wrist. "Is something else ailing you?"

"No actually," Mithian admitted, looking down at her fidgeting fingers sheepishly.

"What is it? Is it your father?" Merlin asked worriedly, though the princess shook her head.

"My chambers were just a bit too quiet."

"Merlin has always been an excellent remedy for quiet," Gaius said mirthfully, earning a playful glare from his ward.

"That is exactly what I was hoping for," Mithian admitted without guile. "I've enjoyed our conversations very much these last two nights."

Merlin smiled, finishing with his task and leading the princess over to the fire once again.

"Tonight, I'll tell you how Arthur created his Round Table Council," Merlin promised, his eyes glinting with enthusiasm. Mithian smiled, matching the warlock's enthusiasm as he began to enthrall her with the power of his words and the soothing tones of his voice.

Merlin was an excellent and engaging storyteller, Mithian decided several hours later. Talking by the fireside with the warlock was just the remedy for her quiet chambers she'd been looking for. Then Gaius had started to snore rather loudly, distracting them during a particularly humorous story involving a set of keys and a bowl of soup. Mithian yawned in the sudden silence, only then realizing how tired she was.

"I'm so sorry, I'm keeping you from your rest," Merlin apologized.

"Nonsense. I'm the one in your chambers, keeping you from your rest," Mithian teased, standing up.

"It's very late. Let me escort you back to your chambers. The castle isn't the best place to be wandering at night."

Mithian smiled, charmed that Merlin worried for her safety in what was purported to be one of the most secure citadels in all the five kingdoms.

"Sleep well, Mithian," Merlin entreated softly when they reached the princess' door.

"You as well," she responded, looking in either direction down the deserted corridor before placing a swift kiss upon Merlin's cheek.

"Goodnight," she said, spinning around quickly and darting into her chambers. Mithian looked at the servant one last time as she eased the door shut, laughing softly at Merlin's gormless expression. The warlock stood there in the dark for another couple minutes before he pulled himself from his stupor.

"Goodnight," he murmured to the door, then he walked back to his chambers, rubbing his tingling cheek the whole way.


Mithian pressed herself into the door, her heart flying in her chest as she fought down the giddy elation that permeated her entire being.

"Goodnight..." Merlin's voice sounded through the door, and Mithian had to fight down a nervous giggle that threatened to erupt. She hadn't planned on pressing a kiss to Merlin's cheek until they had stopped in front of her chambers. Mithian had very little courting experience; her brief betrothal to Arthur having been as close to courting and marriage as she had ever been. But Mithian could no longer deny that Merlin was very close to being her favorite part of being in Camelot.

Taking a deep breath, Mithian moved further into her room after she'd heard Merlin's footsteps retreating down the passageway. As she prepared herself for bed, she realized that it was later than she had supposed it to be. There was a certain stillness and darkness that hung over her room like a shadow. What sounds could be heard seemed monstrously loud. An owl out for a hunt let out a low, plaintive hoot, sending a shiver down Mithian's spine. A gust of wind hurtled across her windows, rattling the glass in the pane and dousing the lone candle burning on the sill. Though she had been giddy and elated just moments before, Mithian now felt frightened and anxious.

"I suppose I didn't get away from Morgana as spotless as I'd supposed," Mithian murmured to herself as she lit another candle from the table and made to peer in all the dark shadows. After her impromptu search turned up nothing, Mithian looked around at the room. It suddenly seemed far too large for just her. She was tempted to run out the door and head straight back to the physician's chamber, but Mithian shook her head at her foolishness.

"You were just there. You cannot go running back to him everytime the wind howls."

Of course, there was no answering reply, and Mithian felt another irrational stab of fear as the shutters clanged against the outside wall in the wind.

"What does father always say? Lock your door, Mithian." The princess wasted no further time but rushed to the door and slid the bolt home, securing herself within the room before setting her candle in the center of the table.

"Sleep," the princess murmured, moving to the bed and jumping into it, pulling the covers to her chin and watching the candle burn down. When sunlight roused her the next morning, Mithian felt as though she'd barely laid her head down. She felt silly about her inexplicable fear now, in the full light of day, but in the darkness, every rustle of the wind had brought visions of Morgana's angry face and gold-glowing eyes to mind.

Determined to get a bit more sleep, Mithian turned her back to the window, trying to relax into the downy mattress. Mithian was just slipping into a light slumber when a soft knock sounded on her door. She tried to ignore the sound, but then it came again a few moments later. Mithian assumed that it was a servant with breakfast and figured that they could just leave it on the table. Then the quiet knock sounded again, and Mithian had the sudden recollection of bolting her door before climbing into bed.

With a sigh, Mithian got up to answer the persistent knock, resigned to giving up on her quest for more sleep. Another soft tap, tap, tap was followed momentarily by the latch unlocking quietly, unaccompanied by the sound of a turning key. The door swung open slightly and Mithian froze in a moment of panic, realizing that her door had just been opened with magic. Her eyes swiftly sought anything nearby that she might use as a weapon when a welcome, dark-haired head peered into the room.

"Mithian!"

"Merlin!" the princess exclaimed, pleasantly surprised and more than a little relieved to see that it was him and not Morgana, as she had initially feared. Then she felt even sillier, for why would Morgana knock?

"Sorry, I-"

"Did knock," Mithian finished with him, recalling how Merlin had said the very same thing a few nights ago when he had brought her a draft from Gaius. Merlin smiled guiltily and then looked questioningly between her and the recently locked door.

"I felt a bit safer with the door locked," she admitted sheepishly before pushing her chagrin aside and smiling. Merlin nodded and then looked closer at the princess.

"Did you not sleep well, Mithian?" Merlin asked, taking in the dark circles beneath her eyes.

"No, I guess it took me awhile to fall asleep," the princess admitted. Merlin looked at her guiltily.

"I've been keeping you up too late these last few nights, I'm sorry," he said sheepishly.

"No, you haven't kept me up, I've kept myself up. You've nothing to be sorry for; I have enjoyed hearing your stories, after all, and it's not every night I'm valiantly escorted through the castle," Mithian said, grinning impishly.

Merlin smiled, remembering the kiss she had bestowed upon his cheek and wishing he could return the favor. Then the warlock tilted his head in contemplation, thinking of a way that he could do just that before latching the door shut behind him. Mithian smiled, but put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrow in question.

"I just had an idea. I thought, if you were willing, I mean, I could try and give you a little energy."

"You can do that?" Mithian asked, surprised.

"I don't know," Merlin shrugged. "Most of the time I never know what exactly I can do. I just sort of go with it and figure things out along the way," Merlin admitted, much to Mithian's amusement.

"Well then, what did you have in mind?" Mithian asked. Merlin pursed his lips and reached for Mithian's shoulder. Concentrating on his power, Merlin directed it through his hand and suffused Mithian with a wave of magic. Instantly, her eyes brightened and the dark circles beneath them faded away.

Mithian closed her eyes as the warm sensation continued to surge into her body through Merlin's hand still resting on her shoulder. Therefore she was utterly surprised when she felt Merlin's warm, soft lips brush across the apple of her cheek. Mithian gasped at the tingle that shot through her, opening her eyes to meet Merlin's deep blue gaze. The princess put a hand to her cheek and smiled gratefully as Merlin pulled his hand away and stepped back slightly, his face tinged pink.

"Thank you, Merlin. I truly feel much better," she said, much to Merlin's pleasure. Mithian marveled at the sensation still coursing through her; she felt closer and somehow connected to the warlock on a much deeper level. Merlin felt giddy sharing his magic with Mithian, once again feeling the light, floaty feeling of euphoria as the princess delighted in his gifts in a way that few would.

"What was it that actually brought you here this morning, Merlin?" Mithian asked with a small smile. Merlin blinked, his mind blank for a moment; then he remembered what it was that he was supposed to be doing.

"Oh! Your father has requested that you dine with him and the King and Queen this morning," Merlin explained.

"Ahh. Then I suppose I shall be there momentarily. Could you please send a maid up to help me dress?" Mithian asked, looking down at her nightdress in explanation.

"Of course," Merlin said, blushing as he ducked his head. "I'll send someone right up."

Mithian chuckled as Merlin nodded and hurried off.


"Mithian, dearest, you're looking much more rested this morning," Rodor said, smiling at Mithian's happy expression. Merlin caught her eye and the two shared a brief, knowing smile as he filled her goblet.

"I am feeling much more rested, father," Mithian confirmed.

"You do seem much more cheerful," Gwen added, prompting Arthur with an elbow to his ribs.

"Yes," Arthur immediately agreed, much to Gwen's satisfaction. Merlin smiled at his friends' interactions and began to circle the table with the breakfast selections, falling into his duties with practiced ease as he served portions from each platter and ensured that the goblets were kept full.

"I wondered if I might speak with you on a matter of some importance, Arthur," Rodor asked after the meal was finished.

"Of course," Arthur entreated, curious as to what Rodor wanted.

"Shall we leave you in privacy?" Mithian offered as Guinevere nodded her agreement.

"No, no, in fact, you are an important part in this." Rodor immediately had everyone's attention, especially Mithian's. Then the King of Nemeth turned back to Arthur and explained, "Odin's desire for Mithian has made me realize that I need to do something more to discourage his advances, while ensuring a good marriage for my daughter."

"And how might I help you with that?" Arthur asked, confused. "Do you hope for a suggestion of an eligible match? I find myself ill-disposed to make such a recommendation."

"No, no. I have a match in mind, one that I feel will strengthen Nemeth's ties with Camelot," Rodor said.

"Please, continue, I'd like to know who this ideal match is," Arthur said, at a loss as to who Rodor could have chosen for Mithian; who it was that Rodor believed would strengthen the ties between their kingdoms.

"This isn't entirely unprecedented, what with your own marriage, so I hope that you'll be open to my request," Rodor continued.

"I'm listening," Arthur promised. Gwen leaned forward, extremely curious. Mithian felt somewhat taken aback; her father had not counseled with her on this. At least with the match with Arthur she'd been given a choice. Now, it seemed she wasn't going to be given much, if any, say in the matter. Mithian absently rubbed a hand over her cheek where Merlin had kissed her. She looked in his direction as surreptitiously as possible while the servant finished pouring a glass of wine for his king. Mithian thought that she could see that the servant's teeth were clenched tightly.

Merlin finished filling Arthur's goblet, trying to control the shaking in his hands, unaware of Mithian's attention. He was taken aback at the feeling of utter disappointment that settled into his gut. Merlin wanted to look over to the princess, but forced himself not to, unable to control the expression on his face well enough. Merlin's lips burned at the memory of pressing a kiss to the princess' cheek not two hours earlier. He hadn't realized how much of his heart he had already given to the princess, and he felt foolish for not keeping his feelings as tightly reined in as he had since Freya's death. Merlin cursed himself, realizing that Mithian's life was not her own. Then Merlin scoffed inwardly at the thought that Mithian would ever want to court him. Turning his back on the table, Merlin moved to the side to make a show of organizing the platters while he gained control over himself.

"I'd like to offer Mithian's hand to the most influential man here in Camelot, after yourself, Arthur."

"Please, give us a name, though I cannot imagine who this highly influential man is. I also cannot guarantee anything, Rodor. I don't believe in forcing a marriage simply for the sake of marriage."

"Of course not," Rodor agreed. "Though I think I'm not mistaken in believing that there is already some regard between my daughter and this man."

"I cannot help you if you do not give me a name, Rodor," Arthur said with a chuckle. Rodor looked searchingly into Arthur's eyes for a moment before he spoke without hesitation.

"I'd like to offer Mithian's hand to Merlin, your manservant and dare I say it, your most valued advisor and friend."

Arthur's eyes instantly widened in utter and complete shock.

"Merlin?! My servant?!" the king exclaimed in disbelief. Rodor smiled inwardly at the fact that Arthur had not outright denied the friendship between himself and Merlin. Gwen, however, elbowed Arthur and gave him a pointed look before she turned to face Rodor, her face lit up in a brilliant smile. Considering his own choice of bride, Arthur couldn't actually find reason to object. Though he would have to think about the influential bit. Merlin and influential didn't correlate in Arthur's mind. Mithian was stunned speechless, though she was hardly surprised at the great rush of relief that followed her father's pronouncement.

Merlin, however, was fortunate to have just placed the pewter jug of wine down on the side table when Rodor named the manservant as his choice for Mithian. If he hadn't, Merlin was sure he would have dropped it. As it was, he could hardly keep on his feet. So great was his shock, he didn't realize that everyone had turned to look at him. Merlin floundered behind him, hoping to grab ahold of the wall or a pillar, anything to support his weight while his legs threatened to give out.

"Merlin?!" Gwen asked, alarmed at how pale the servant's face had become.

"I, I, I... What?" he stammered, grateful when his back finally hit the wall and he slid down it, his legs feeling utterly boneless. He was plagued by thoughts of destiny and how this could possibly fit within his. Then Merlin only just managed to quash a hysterical laugh when he thought of what Kilgharrah might say. Rodor stood from the table and slowly approached the stunned manservant, grasped him by the forearm and pulled him to his feet.

"What say you? Will you take my daughter's hand?"

"You realize that I'm just a fatherless peasant? I can offer your daughter no riches or fine things," Merlin croaked.

"You don't see your own worth, Merlin. You have the ear of a powerful king; you are his best and closest friend, one might say. Not to mention that your king, Odin and I are in your debt for our very lives. What you may not be able to provide for my daughter in riches, you make up for in your position of influence. But most of all, I hope you could offer her your heart."

Merlin looked at Rodor; the monarch's grey eyes bore into his own and his hand still gripped Merlin's forearm tightly. For a fleeting moment, Merlin wondered what Rodor would do to him if he declined Mithian's hand. He had never thought seriously of marriage; he had said as much to Gwen just a few days before, but only because of his damned destiny. He had no doubt that he could give Mithian his heart; he had just cursed himself for doing just that. It was undeniable that Mithian was a great friend and confidante; their conversations were easy and enjoyable. Her kiss upon his cheek had certainly stirred things within him that he had thought were long buried. Their camaraderie and Mithian's easy acceptance of just who and what he was, in addition to her promised silence, made Merlin think that it might actually be possible to entertain the idea, destiny be damned. Merlin turned to look at the others to gauge their reaction.

Gwen was giddy in her enthusiasm. She could hardly hold still; Merlin could see her clenching her hands together to keep them from clapping in delight. She was also biting her lip to keep from smiling as widely as Merlin knew she wanted to. Arthur was another story entirely. While he didn't look angry or offended, he looked like he had when Merlin had told him that he'd clubbed the then-prince over the head with a bit of wood.

Finally, Merlin looked to the one who was just as affected by this as he. When his eyes met Mithian's, her expression was not what he had expected. Where he had thought he would see anger and indignation, he saw hope and anticipation. Her eyes sparkled from within as their gaze locked on one another's. Mithian gave him a small grin and nodded ever so slightly, raising her eyebrow as if to say, I'm game if you are.

It was that more than anything that finally loosed his frozen tongue. Merlin turned to Rodor and looked him in the eye.

"All those questions at the ruins..." Merlin trailed off, looking at Rodor appraisingly.

"I do admit, I was testing you. I'd heard quite a bit from the knights that accompanied Arthur on his mission to rescue me. They were very complimentary about your character and your efforts to support Camelot . I wanted to see if you were real or if they had just talked up an unconscious man out of pity."

Merlin laughed humorlessly at Rodor's admission.

"What about King Odin? Surely he would be angry that you've refused his offer only to wed your daughter to a manservant?"

"I will worry about Odin," Rodor assured. "Though he ought to know that I would never have considered him for Mithian, even before he invaded my kingdom."

"This is truly what you desire for your daughter?"

"It is. I would like to see her wed before I return to Nemeth," Rodor answered. Merlin's eyes widened; Rodor had, not an hour ago, voiced his hope to be able to return to his kingdom by the end of the week. A mere four days away.

"Then I have an offer for you," Merlin suggested, glancing momentarily at Mithian, whose eyes lit with hope. Rodor's eyebrows rose, but he didn't protest. Merlin took it as permission to continue. "I will accept your daughter's hand, under the condition that I have a month to properly court her."

Rodor laughed delightedly, then smiled in triumph and nodded his agreement.

"You've just proved my point, Merlin. No mere peasant would dare to conditionally accept the offer of a princess' hand in marriage. You are truly an uncommon man."

Rodor clapped Merlin on the shoulder and turned to the still-stunned king at the table.

"Perhaps a promotion is in order for my future son-in-law?"


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