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.
Preparations
A/N: I am utterly, completely, and entirely astounded by the response for this story. I am thrilled that it has been received so very well, and I am giddy with the wonderful reviews you've given. Thank you so much, especially to those who are regularly reviewing and also to the guest/anon reviewers that I cannot reply to otherwise. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Merlin had no idea how drastically one meal could change things.
Rodor had chuckled heartily at the expression on Arthur's face when the King of Nemeth addressed Merlin as his 'future son-in-law.' Merlin himself hadn't even thought that far ahead; he almost felt as though he needed the wall to support him again. It was Gwen who came to everyone's rescue.
"I think a promotion is actually well overdue," the queen replied, much to Rodor's satisfaction.
"I believe I've stirred the kettle enough for one morning, I'll leave the preparations to the youthful," Rodor chuckled again and made to leave the dining hall, passing Mithian's chair along the way and pausing to give her shoulder a squeeze and plant a kiss at the crown of her head. The doors had closed behind him with an echoing clang, which finally succeeded in helping Arthur find his voice once again.
"What just happened?" he asked, looking at the women seated beside him at the table in utter bewilderment. Merlin stumbled over and slid into the seat Rodor had vacated, indecorously planting his elbows on the table and holding his spinning head in this hands.
"I'm not exactly sure. When you find out, would you let me know?" Merlin asked, much to Gwen and Mithian's amusement.
"I think congratulations are in order!" Gwen said enthusiastically, looking between Merlin and Mithian.
"And a promotion, it would seem," Arthur said incredulously, even as his mind wandered back over the indefinable something about Merlin that had long sat at the back of the king's mind. Arthur was not one to be overly effusive towards even his closest friends; his upbringing had ensured that. But he couldn't deny Merlin's influence any longer, at least not inwardly. All of Arthur's greatest trials and triumphs had been with Merlin at his side, more than once with Merlin pushing him reluctantly forward. Arthur suddenly felt more than a little guilty that it had taken Rodor to point out that fact.
"Why do you look so disappointed?! How long have I been doling out advice and encouraging you when you felt hopeless and dragging you out of your sour moods? Is it really that abhorrent of an idea to you?!" Merlin asked defensively, startling the king from his introspection.
"You're an idiot, Merlin," Arthur replied, though he grunted at the elbow Guinevere planted into his side for the comment. "I didn't mean like that!" he amended.
"What else does idiot imply?" Merlin asked.
"I meant that you're an idiot if you believe me disappointed in you, Merlin. I am disappointed in myself for not doing more for you sooner," Arthur explained, rubbing his fingers along the edge of the table, unable to meet anyone's eye.
"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin said, his throat feeling tight at the unexpected, albeit roundabout, compliment. "Does this mean you'll let me hug you now?"
"What is it with you and hugging?!" Arthur asked, his face wrinkling at the prospect, even as Merlin's eyes sparkled with humor and the ladies both laughed.
"My mother always told me that a good hug could solve anything," Merlin said loftily.
"Yet you're still an idiot," Arthur replied, though Merlin knew there was no malice in the insult. "I suppose I'll have to devise some sort of official position for you. I can't very well call you the Court Idiot. Somehow I don't think that's what your future father-in-law had in mind, Merlin."
At the reminder, Merlin fell back into the chair, gripping the arms of it to steady himself.
"You could name him your advisor," Guinevere offered. "As he said, he's been an advisor of sorts to you for many years now."
"The council will just argue that I have many advisors, namely, them."
"Then you should really put them in their place," Mithian said impishly.
"How do you suggest I do that?"
"Make Merlin outrank them. Name him your First Advisor," Mithian replied, looking at Merlin with pride.
"I like it," Gwen agreed, though Arthur looked dubious.
"I'm confused," Merlin began, looking at Mithian. "Why would your father choose me? I'm hardly the ideal husband for a princess..."
"That's not true!" Gwen protested, and Arthur stopped nodding his agreement with Merlin when he caught his wife's stern look.
"I, for one, saw what my father sees in you when I was here three years ago, and I see it even more clearly now. I believe Guinevere is right, this is long overdue," Mithian said, looking pointedly at her newly betrothed. Merlin scoffed under his breath and looked down at his hands; he knew full well what Mithian was saying. But he couldn't very well tell Arthur that, considering Camelot's current stance on magic.
"I hope you're not disappointed?" Merlin asked finally, meeting the princess' gaze nervously. Mithian smiled.
"When Arthur refused my hand, risking his kingship and his kingdom on the grounds that he loved another, a blacksmith's daughter, no less," Mithian said, smiling warmly at Guinevere. "I told him that I would give up my own kingdom to be so loved. So no, Merlin, I'm not disappointed. Quite relieved, actually," Mithian laughed. "For a moment I feared that my father had an old relic from Arthur's council picked out for me."
"Well, I suppose I am a slight bit better than an old relic," Merlin chuckled, leaning towards Mithian and lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Though that is debatable. I mean, Lord Olwin has a very nice keep in the north."
"I believe that's you being modest again," Mithian replied coyly, leaning closer to Merlin as she too lowered her voice. "I've no desire for a keep in the north, nor a husband who is older than my father."
"You know I'm never modest, I'm just entirely unusual," Merlin countered with a grin, recalling their first conversation.
"It's like we've disappeared, Guinevere," Arthur said dryly, though he smiled incredulously. The king had never seen Merlin try to flirt with anyone. Even when that barmaid had boldly called Merlin a 'handsome fellow' all those years ago, the most the manservant had managed was a bashful thank you. And now Merlin was actually trying to be charming. Arthur distantly wondered if someone had put something in the wine this morning.
"You actually like him," Arthur said abruptly, coming to a sudden, belated realization. "That's why you were tickling him the other day!"
"Keenly observed, Arthur," Guinevere teased cheekily.
"Is that so surprising?" Mithian asked, chuckling as Arthur nodded, only to grimace when the queen elbowed him in the ribs again.
"I mean, no, it's not surprising at all," Arthur corrected. "What?!" the king exclaimed when Merlin just rolled his eyes and smiled at Mithian.
Guinevere laughed delightedly. She had been sure that she'd seen some fondness between Merlin and Mithian, the tickling incident aside, but she hadn't dared to hope that they would get along so well. Many of the serving girls in the castle had swooned over Merlin's clumsy, innate-yet-clueless charm over the years. He had certainly given smiles and the odd compliment here or there to the various maidservants over his years in Arthur's service, but Gwen had never seen Merlin quite so responsive to a woman. The sparkle in both Merlin and Mithian's eyes spoke of a definite regard between the two.
"Oh, Arthur! We've an announcement to make, a feast to plan, quarters to prepare! There's so much to do and we've only a month! We've got to get started," Gwen said in a rush.
"Wait, wait, wait," Arthur said. "An announcement? A feast? Quarters? What are you talking about?"
"We've got to announce Merlin and Princess Mithian's betrothal," Gwen began, ticking things off on her fingers. "We can't announce something like that and not have a feast to celebrate. Merlin! You'll get to enjoy the feast! And we've got to prepare new quarters for Merlin!"
"What's the matter with the ones he's got?" Arthur asked. Gwen rolled her eyes.
"Arthur, we can't have your First Advisor-"
"Hang on! When did we actually decide that Merlin was going to be my First Advisor?" Arthur asked, liking the idea, but feeling he had to protest all the same. He was the king after all, and that meant he was supposed to be in charge.
"What else would he be then?" Gwen asked.
"Court Idiot hasn't been entirely ruled out," Arthur grumbled, looking at Merlin's knowing smile.
"You just don't want to admit that you like their idea."
"Of course not!" Arthur denied, though he backtracked at Guinevere's pointedly raised eyebrow.
"Of course I want to admit it's a great idea, but I have to consider all the possibilities."
"Which are?" Gwen asked, smiling at her husband's blank look.
"Well, I've not thought of anything else just yet, so I suppose that First Advisor is as good as any."
"As I was saying," Guinevere resumed. "We can't have your First Advisor tucked away in the physician's quarters. If Merlin is going to be taken seriously as your First Advisor, we have to show that we believe him to be worthy of the position. And besides, Merlin can't keep a wife, a princess, no less, in that tiny room!"
Merlin felt his face flush a brilliant red at the thought of having a wife, and all that it entailed. Arthur's face was just as red. Gwen shook her head fondly at her husband, though politely ignored her best friend's embarrassment. Mithian chuckled at the antics of the unlikely trio of friends, though her cheeks were decidedly rosy as well.
"Honestly, Arthur, they're going to be married! What did you think they were going to do?"
"I'm trying not to think of what they're going to do, Guinevere," Arthur groaned, covering his face in his hands.
"Alright, I think this lot needs clearing up!" Merlin said, leaping out of the chair and grabbing plates and cutlery to hide his burning face.
"I'll help!" Mithian said, standing to assist Merlin.
"No, no, that's alright, please don't worry about it. Mithian, you're not supposed to be doing that," Merlin entreated as Mithian stacked a few bowls and plates.
"As of twenty minutes ago, neither are you," Mithian said with a laugh. Merlin stopped abruptly, putting his burden back down on the table as his mouth dropped open.
"That is true," Merlin said finally, turning to Arthur with a wicked grin. "I hope you like brass jokes, Arthur, because my replacement has a whole lot of them."
Arthur grimaced at the thought and groaned. Then Merlin turned to Mithian.
"We've got a month. I believe we have some courting to do," he said, offering his arm and leading his princess from the dining hall.
Merlin wasted no time directing Mithian to Gaius' chambers. This was something that Merlin wanted to tell his foster father himself. No doubt that the rumor mill would run rampant with the news of Merlin and Mithian's betrothal as soon as a servant caught wind of it.
George would likely be told first, since he was next in line within the servant's hierarchy when it came to serving the king in Merlin's stead. Then of course, the castle steward would have to be told of the change in staff. While George would never say anything for propriety's sake, the steward was sure to tell anyone who so much as walked by.
"What do you say we have a bit of fun?" Merlin asked mischievously. Mithian instantly smiled back.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Just follow along," Merlin replied, putting on his most serious face and bursting through the door to the physician's chambers.
"Gaius!"
"What on earth are you on about, Merlin?!" Gaius groused, smiling as soon as he saw Mithian on Merlin's arm. "Princess Mithian," he greeted her, confused by the closeness between his ward and the princess.
"I need to send for my mother, urgently," Merlin answered, putting on his best worried expression, complete with a lower lip caught in his teeth.
"Whatever is the matter, Merlin?" Gaius asked, alarmed.
"Something has happened, we need her to come to Camelot," Merlin entreated.
"What is it?" Gaius asked, growing suspicious at Mithian's lack of concern. In fact, Gaius would have to say she looked more amused than anything.
"We're getting married," Merlin blurted out, gesturing between himself and Mithian.
"Very funny, Merlin, what is actually going on?" Gaius asked.
"I am perfectly serious."
"Merlin, don't be ridiculous."
"He doesn't even believe me, this doesn't bode well for us, Mithian," Merlin joked.
"What is going on he-"
"Gaius," Mithian interrupted. "Merlin is telling the truth. My father has offered my hand to Merlin and he's being promoted to the king's First Advisor."
Gaius' infamous eyebrow rose higher than Merlin had ever seen it. The physician shook his head and looked to his ward in amazement.
"Will wonders never cease..." Gaius immediately shepherded the new couple to the pair of chairs by the fire that Merlin and Mithian had been making use of for the last few evenings. "Tell me what transpired this morning, and don't leave anything out," the physician said, eyeing Merlin with a raised eyebrow. Within a few minutes, they succeeded in satisfying Gaius' curiosity sufficiently.
"You should have seen him, Gaius. When my father named Merlin as his choice for my husband, Merlin nearly crumpled to the ground on the spot!"
"As it was, I still had to lean against the wall for support and even then, my legs felt boneless and I slid down the wall to the floor. I was stunned into a stupor," Merlin agreed.
"Arthur, though was completely gobsmacked! He could hardly speak until my father left the room," Mithian added. Gaius shook his head and chuckled. He would've dearly loved to have witnessed the spectacle that had transpired that morning.
"First Advisor and betrothed as well. Considering your destiny and friendship with Arthur, I'm not entirely surprised that you have been given this honor. But I admit, I hadn't thought that I would see you assume this role in my lifetime. Especially with the way things are right now. Do you suppose this was Fate's design all along? Or do you think that Arthur wasn't moving fast enough for Fate's liking?" Gaius chuckled.
Merlin shook his head, still unable to comprehend the long-term ramifications of the events of that morning.
"All this talk of fate and destiny leaves my head spinning," Mithian mused.
"Believe me, I know the feeling," Merlin chuckled. "Imagine hearing from an enormous dragon that you're destined to train up a prat of a prince and keep him from being killed prematurely by his own arrogant idiocy!"
"I think I'd have fainted dead away," Mithian laughed.
"No, I think you'd have given that dragon a piece of your mind before telling him to lay off your back," Merlin replied.
"You flatter me, Merlin."
A sharp knock on the door pulled the trio from their conversation.
"Enter!" Gaius called, and a castle guard stuck his head in the door.
"King Arthur and Queen Guinevere request that the three of you join them in the council chambers."
"We shall be there," Gaius assured the man, who hurried off, no doubt to summon someone else.
Upon entering the council chamber, Merlin saw that Arthur, Gwen and Rodor were waiting at the head of the room. There was already a large crowd of red-cloaked knights, including Leon, Elyan, Percival and Gwaine, positioned nearest to Arthur. Several lords and their ladies murmured amongst themselves across from the knights. Merlin could already see the speculation in their eyes. Arthur rarely called impromptu gatherings of the court, and when he did, it was usually something significant.
Merlin looked to Mithian as they made it to the front of the assembled nobles. Mithian offered him a slight nod and an encouraging smile, knowing that after this meeting, Merlin's life would never be the same again. The warlock returned the nod and took up his position close to Arthur as Mithian moved to stand beside her father.
Arthur strode forward then, gaining everyone's attention. The murmurs and rumblings of the gathered court ceased immediately.
"After much thought and careful consideration, I have decided that one of my household was overdue for a change of position."
Merlin tried valiantly to avoid rolling his eyes; instead he bit his lip and looked studiously at his boots, not wanting to give anything away. Though it was difficult not to laugh at the enormous understatement that 'much thought and careful consideration' was in regards to the way Rodor surprised them all. It was rather akin to comparing Kilgharrah to a common lizard, Merlin mused. The warlock immediately straightened, however, when whispers suddenly traveled around the room like a summer breeze. Arthur held his hands up and silence fell once more.
"This person has been a great friend and help to the crown. He has supported me and Queen Guinevere through peace and hardship, pushing and pulling me along when I needed it most. I would not be here today as your King without this man. So it is with great pleasure that I, Arthur Pendragon, name Merlin of Ealdor as my First Advisor."
Merlin raised his head and stepped forward at Arthur's words, meeting many stunned faces as his eyes scanned the room. Gwen, Rodor, and Mithian were applauding politely, their smiles wide and genuine. Gwaine, however, couldn't hold back. He began applauding and whistling enthusiastically, Leon, Percival and Elyan joining in soon after. With Guinevere, Rodor, Mithian and all four of Arthur's closest knights so obviously in support of the move, the rest of the court joined in, though none as enthusiastically as Gwaine.
After a few moments, Arthur raised his hands to calm the gathered nobles. "In light of this new development, King Rodor of Nemeth has also made an offer of Mithian's hand in marriage. King Rodor and I both approve of the match, and so it is that I also announce the betrothal of Princess Mithian and Merlin of Ealdor, First Advisor of Camelot."
Rodor, Arthur and Guinevere were the first to start the applause as Merlin and Mithian moved to the center of the room. Merlin caught Mithian's offered hand and supported her as she curtsied to him and then Merlin bowed low and pressed a kiss to her hand.
As soon as his lips were pressed to her hand, Gwaine seemed to realize that it wasn't an elaborate joke being played on the Court of Camelot. With an indecorous shout of glee and a piercing whistle, Gwaine threw propriety aside and ran to meet the newly betrothed couple, his fellow knights close on his heels. Surrounding the two of them, the knights all took turns congratulating the happy pair. Unfortunately, they all felt that Merlin could only be properly congratulated with a manly punch in the shoulder and a hearty slap to the back. By the time Merlin and Mithian broke free from their enthusiastic friends, Merlin was sure he'd have massive bruises on both arms.
"How is this boy an eligible match for a princess?"
The pleasant revelry surrounding Merlin and Mithian was broken as two lords of the court voiced their disapproval of the match.
"He's not even a courtier, let alone a royal!"
"He's every bit a courtier," Arthur said, his voice steely. "I made him a member of the court when I named him First Advisor."
"But surely Princess Mithian could do better than a bastard peasant-"
"If I ever hear you address my daughter's intended in such a manner again, I will personally have you put in the stocks, rank be damned," Rodor said vehemently. Merlin was stunned. He'd heard that word his entire life; while his friends within Camelot were polite enough to disregard Merlin's lack of a father, most were not. The fact that Rodor had come to his defense made Merlin inexplicably grateful and perhaps just a bit embarrassed. Distantly the warlock wondered if that was what having a father, rather than a guardian, felt like.
"And I'll have you removed from my court," Arthur promised, immediately deflating the inevitable argument on jurisdiction, rank and propriety that was sure to have lasted the rest of the morning.
"We'd like to see you all at a grand feast tonight, held in Merlin and Mithian's honor," Gwen announced to more whispered murmurings.
"Until then," Arthur said, effectively dismissing the court.
The feast was grand as Gwen had promised. Merlin was excited because it was the first feast that he'd really be able to take part of and enjoy, rather than standing behind Arthur waiting to fill the king's goblet. He had felt strange at first, taking a seat at the head table. Merlin couldn't help but feel as though someone was going to come along and tell him that while it had all been a great laugh, what the hell did he think he was doing sitting at the king's table?
Then Mithian had sat beside him and smiled, instantly settling the unsteady feeling in Merlin's gut. As soon as Arthur took his seat, various servants began bringing platters of food and pitchers of wine. Some of them looked at Merlin critically, though many were genuinely happy for him. While Merlin was friendly with everyone, there were a few servants who thought his impertinence and candor with the nobles was entirely inappropriate and that Merlin was reaching above his station. It was those few servants who Merlin thought would be the most difficult to deal with in the coming weeks.
Merlin was pulled from his musings when a mug was put down on the table in front of him. Looking up into Gwaine's amused eyes, Merlin began to feel a little apprehensive at the mischievous glint he saw there.
"Merlin, now that you're sitting at this table, it's time you enjoyed a real drink," the knight said, gesturing to the cup. "This is fine, aged mead, much more palatable than that bitter wine."
Mithian chuckled, knowing just what the knight was hoping for. Merlin had told her the previous night that Gwaine had made it his personal duty to thoroughly inebriate Merlin at least once in the warlock's lifetime.
"Perhaps just the one," Merlin conceded, much to Gwaine's delight.
Within twenty minutes, the sweet taste of the mead had lured Merlin into finishing the whole mug. Gwaine was counting on that sweet flavor to mask the potency of the drink. As soon as Merlin's attention was focused on Mithian, Leon switched the warlock's empty mug for a full one. Sure enough, Merlin's head was clouded sufficiently that he didn't notice, and had soon finished the second as well. Percival and Elyan also took a turn making the mug switch while Arthur held the inebriated man's attention and before they all knew it, Merlin was drunker than any of them had ever seen him.
What Mithian realized soon after, though, was that Merlin had very good reason for avoiding drunkenness. While Arthur and his knights were laughing at their great triumph, Mithian's eyes widened and she grew more alarmed as Merlin's tongue became looser and looser.
"Arthur! You're a cabbage head! You're lucky Gwen decided to marry you... Wait... maybe I'm lucky you married Gwen? Cause now I get to marry Mithian! Mithian! We're getting maaarrrrried! I feel a little strange... Gwaine?! What did you give me? Arthur, how many times do I have to tell you that you're a dollop head? Gwen, why are there two of you? Leon! You giggle like a girl! But Gwaine, the serving girls like your hair. Elyan! Elyan, you should stop spinning like that... Mithian! You're so beaaauuutiful... "
Merlin turned to Mithian sitting on his right and grinned stupidly at her. She smiled and wondered if she could get Merlin out of the hall on her own before he said anything truly damning. A second later, Mithian almost gasped aloud when Merlin's eyes seemed to flicker with barely concealed gold. Merlin's spoon jittered slightly on the table, though no one had touched it. Then Merlin began laughing at nothing and his eyes flickered again. The candles on the table sputtered momentarily, but didn't go out.
"I'm not trying to, honest," Merlin told her imploringly. "I can't help it."
"You can't help anything, Merlin," Arthur laughed, completely oblivious to what Merlin was actually referring to.
"Merlin, what do you say we get you to bed, hmm?" Mithian asked, her alarm growing as Merlin's eyes flickered again and a platter across the room crashed to the floor.
"Bed! That sounds good. I have a bed in Gaius' chambers, did you know? Which way is that?"
Mithian grasped Merlin by the arm and tugged, grateful when he got to his feet largely on his own.
"If you'll excuse us, Arthur, Guinevere," Mithian said, returning the nod from the king and queen and making a hasty exit.
"I don't envy him in the morning," Arthur chuckled. Gwen raised her eyebrow in the knights' direction, who at least had the decency to stop chortling long enough to look apologetic before the next wave of laughter broke their composure.
"Honestly, you'd think they were a bunch of boys, rather than grown men," Gwen said, rolling her eyes.
"We're brothers, and brothers are meant to tease," Arthur said as though it was the secret to understanding men. Gwen just shook her head in fond exasperation. They were her brothers, too, after all.
"When did this staircase get here? I don't remember this one," Merlin said as he and Mithian came to the last set of stairs before the physician's chambers.
"I'd imagine they got there when the castle was built," Mithian answered sensibly.
"You're probably right. Because moving staircases, that would be like magic. But it can't be magic, magic isn't allowed in Camelot. Magic, magic, magic. See? I said it three times and it didn't hurt anyone. Why doesn't anyone like magic? Magic, I have MAGIC!"
Mithian froze, grateful that the stairs and hallway were deserted this time of night.
"That's something you should keep quiet, Merlin," Mithian entreated.
"That's true. But no one wou' believe me anyway. I once told the whoooole council, Uther and Arthur included, but no one believed me! Arthur said I was in love with Gwen an' that's why I did it. Why di' he think I loved Gwen? I've never liked her like that, she's always b'n like a sister to me. Though she did kiss me once, but I had just died, so I s'ppose tha's un'ers'andable, but still she KISSED me and she's like my sis'er, so it was strange, because she's like my sis'er and it was strange," Merlin rambled. Mithian pushed down the irrational spark of jealousy that flared when Merlin said Guinevere had kissed him, especially since Merlin had said it was strange. Twice, even. She'd have to ask him about the dying part when he was more lucid though.
Finally, the physician's door came into view. Merlin reached out a hand to open the door and it swung wide before he could touch it.
"Sorry. I'm no' tryin' to," Merlin said again, before he began to giggle. "Gaius is always tellin' me no' to use magic for li'le tricks but I just can't stop!"
At the mention of his name, Gaius roused from his bed, where he had retired to once the feast had begun getting rowdy.
"Merlin?" Gaius asked, trying to peer through the dark.
"It's the both of us," Mithian answered. "Have you a light nearby?" she asked, not wanting to navigate the cluttered and mostly unfamiliar room in the dark. Suddenly, every candle and sconce flared to life and Gaius squinted at the sudden light. Mithian hurriedly shut the door behind them.
"Sorry, I didn' mean to, bu' you asked for a ligh' and it just happened," Merlin apologized.
"What's going on?"
"The knights thought it would be quite the prank to finally get Merlin completely drunk. They kept switching his glass when he was distracted."
"Oh dear," Gaius murmured, standing to help Mithian usher Merlin into his tiny room.
"I can' help it Gaius," Merlin murmured. "It just happens."
"We're lucky he didn't give someone an unnatural hair color or something else undeniably magical," Gaius chuckled, laying Merlin on his bed as the warlock began laughing anew. Mithian gasped and Gaius instantly knew that it had been the wrong thing to say in front of a powerful warlock whose magic was open to suggestion. Looking at the hair hanging down beside his face, Gaius cringed at its bright, vibrant blue color.
Mithian clapped a hand over her mouth, struggling to contain the laughter that so desperately wanted to be released.
"You can laugh. It would seem that we're to be locked in until he can reverse this or I can find the remedy myself."
Mithian nodded and made short work of Merlin's boots; then she and Gaius tucked the giggling warlock under a blanket. They were both stunned when they made to leave the small room and found that Gaius had misspoken once again; as Merlin's door didn't have a lock, the latch pull was simply gone, vanished by Merlin's uncontrolled magic. The door was firmly secured; no amount of prying succeeded in cracking it open.
"Merlin! Let us out!" Gaius cried, turning back to his ward. Unfortunately, the warlock had finally passed out.
"I suppose we'd better get comfortable," Mithian said, looking doubtfully around the sparsely furnished room.
"Help me move him, you can take the bed," Gaius suggested.
"No, that isn't necessary," Mithian protested. Gaius smiled and shook his head.
"Trust me, he's out cold and won't feel a thing," Gaius assured her, though he paused as though considering.
"Well, not till morning, at least."
Merlin woke with a groan, clutching his head and grimacing as his stomach protested the movement. Feeling decidedly uncomfortable, Merlin opened his eyes to discover that he was asleep on a pile of his dirty clothes and the burlap sacks that Gaius stored in Merlin's room.
Sitting up gingerly, Merlin saw Gaius' back as the physician slept in Merlin's chair, his head resting on the small work table. Another sweep of his room revealed Mithian laying on his bed, her hands tucked under her cheek as she slept.
"Gaius?" Merlin croaked, his mouth dry and his throat parched. The physician's head jerked up suddenly, revealing what Merlin hadn't been able to see from where he sat on the floor.
Gaius' hair was blue. Bright, royal blue. Merlin instantly clapped a hand over his mouth, unknowingly mirroring Mithian's reaction to the physician's conundrum.
"What happened to your hair?!" Merlin asked, his voice dry and raspy.
"Funny you should ask that," Gaius said dryly, raising his eyebrow indignantly.
"What? What did I do?" Merlin asked, realizing that the night before was utterly blank in his memory.
"You are never to drink mead again, Merlin," Gaius said sternly. Merlin groaned in realization, clutching his head as it pounded.
"I did that?" he asked, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his aching forehead upon them. Gaius took pity on his ward, considering Merlin had been at the mercy of the knights.
"Gaius? Merlin?" Mithian asked, sitting up groggily.
"Good morning, Mithian," Merlin greeted her with a sheepish expression.
"I would appreciate not having blue hair," Gaius said pointedly.
"Ahh. Yes. How do I do that?"
"Merlin!" Gaius exclaimed, much to Mithian's amusement.
"Right, er..." Merlin held a hand in Gaius' direction and said, "Edhwierft hwítest feaxnesse."
"Thank you," the physician sighed in utter relief when he saw his hair fading back to its normal white color.
The door unfortunately, was a bit more difficult, especially with Merlin's pounding head. Thankfully, after a few tense minutes, the warlock finally prevailed. Yanking the door open, Gaius and Merlin practically ran out of the room, only to stop short as the door to Gaius' chamber opened and Guinevere rushed into the room.
"Merlin!" Gwen called worriedly, causing the warlock to grip his head and moan.
"Have you seen Mithian this morning?" Gwen entreated breathlessly. "We were supposed to breakfast together, but her bed hasn't been slept in and the last time I saw her was at the feast last night."
"I'm here," Mithian said, coming down from Merlin's room. Gwen's eyes widened in shock, looking from Gaius, to Merlin, to Mithian, who was obviously still in her gown from the feast.
"I'm assuming there is an explanation for this?" the queen asked, a smile quirking her lips.
"Mithian was helping me get Merlin in bed last night after the knights saw fit to inebriate him past the point of rational thought. Whilst we were getting him into his bed, I'm afraid the latch got jammed and we were all three trapped in his room until just moments ago."
Guinevere looked between the three of them; Gaius with a hand massaging his lower back, Mithian rubbing her neck and Merlin still clutching his head.
"That must've been cozy," Gwen teased, then the queen began to chuckle.
"Oh, I quite enjoy sleeping in a pile of dirty clothes and musty burlap sacks and waking up with a pounding head," Merlin groused sarcastically.
"I must admit, I was the fortunate one to claim the bed, though I'm not sure how Merlin finds that very comfortable," Mithian chuckled, continuing to rub at her neck.
"It's better than the dirt floor I grew up with," Merlin replied.
"Well then, we've got to be sure you have new quarters as soon as possible," Gwen chuckled, ushering Mithian to the door and chuckling at the predicaments in which Merlin always seemed to find himself.
As soon as the ladies had gone, Gaius went to his stores and found Merlin a headache remedy which the warlock took without protest.
"Mithian told me last night that you were rather loose-lipped and making things move at the banquet without even trying. Not to mention the hijinks you put us through after you arrived here! Yet again I'm amazed you still have a head on your shoulders, Merlin," Gaius mused. Merlin could only nod in agreement, grateful that Mithian had the foresight to get him out of the banquet hall before something truly, undeniably magical could be attributed to him.
Though it was, without a doubt, the worst hangover Merlin had ever had and the headache remedy tasted of the bog, Merlin couldn't help but think that the sight of Gaius with bright blue hair almost made it worth it.
Merlin was becoming rather sore. Since the feast, every time the knights saw the warlock, they gave him a congratulatory punch to the shoulder or a slap on the back. Merlin now winced whenever he saw Percival headed his way. Leon and Elyan were tolerable, but Gwaine was the worst. The warlock was tempted to turn the knight into a toad, illegality of magic be damned.
Merlin had thought that the numerous prods that pushed him into Mithian while they shared a horse was bad. But every time Gwaine saw Merlin now, the knight grinned mischievously and bowed low, greeting the newly appointed advisor with an over-the-top, Your Excellency. Then Gwaine would laugh, punch Merlin in the shoulder and try to convince him to join the knight in the tavern to finish getting him soused. Merlin cringed in mortification every time, especially when there were servants within earshot.
A week after Merlin's promotion, Gwen delighted in moving the First Advisor into his new quarters. While significantly smaller than the royal bedchambers, they still seemed overly large and spacious to the warlock.
"Shall we dine in here tonight?" Mithian asked as Merlin eyed everything in wonder.
"In here?" Merlin asked, taken aback at the realization that these rooms were truly his, and that he was entitled to dinner from the kitchens now. "Sounds perfect," Merlin answered.
"I'll just go let my father know not to expect me then," Mithian answered, her own realization dawning that she and Merlin were now truly courting and that eventually, Merlin's new chambers would be their new chambers.
"I'll see you then," Merlin said, unsure of what else to say in his rather limited knowledge of courting etiquette. Mithian smiled knowingly at Merlin's awkwardness and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.
"That's how I prefer to say, until then," Mithian whispered, laughing a tinkling laugh when Merlin nodded his agreement.
"Well?" Mithian asked impishly.
"Oh!" Merlin leaned in to kiss Mithian's cheek, but was surprised when she turned to catch his lips with hers. For a moment, his mind went blank, and his magic surged elatedly through his chest, adding to the warm, heady feeling that Mithian's kiss had inspired in him. Her lips reached for his again and again, and he gladly met them, cradling her face gently in his hands.
"That is definitely how I prefer to say, until then," Merlin murmured when they finally broke apart. Mithian laughed delightedly, smiling as she moved to the door, only to look back to find that Merlin hadn't moved an inch, save for the smile upon his lips.
When a knock sounded an hour later, Merlin rushed to answer his door, only to find that Mithian was accompanied not only by Arthur and Gwen, but Rodor as well.
"When Mithian said you were dining in your chambers tonight, we thought we'd all come along," King Rodor explained. Merlin nodded, wondering if Rodor somehow knew that the warlock had kissed Mithian only an hour earlier and was now trying to chaperone them.
As it turned out, dinner was rather pleasant. Rodor's presence kept Arthur from making too many jokes about Merlin and Mithian, and Gwen's presence kept everyone grounded and conversation moving when it lulled. Merlin had felt more than a little strange allowing another servant to serve him dinner, when just two weeks previously, they had been elbow deep in the laundry together. More than once, Merlin had to stop himself from getting up to help serve the next course or fill someone's goblet, but Mithian would put a gentle hand on his arm and soothe his discomfort at the unfamiliar situation.
"That went rather well," Mithian said softly later that evening as Merlin escorted her back to her chambers.
"I suppose it did, I only offered to fill your father's goblet once," Merlin joked.
"You know it doesn't matter to him that you were a servant. If it did, he wouldn't have offered you my hand," Mithian reasoned.
"All the same, I think it'll take me awhile to get used to things."
"These are my chambers," Mithian said softly as her door came into view.
"Where we say, until then," Merlin said cheekily.
Mithian said nothing, but looked expectantly at her betrothed. Merlin grew serious, taking Mithian's hand and giving it a squeeze.
"Sleep well, my princess," he murmured, before placing a gentle kiss upon her lips.
"Sleep well, my warlock," Mithian whispered, leaving Merlin with another kiss and a quiet snick of her door latching shut. Merlin walked back to his rooms in a daze, wondering if he would be allowed to stay this happy forever.
After all the activity of the day, Merlin's chambers seemed too empty and too quiet when he finally climbed into his new bed. Merlin felt a little lost without the sound of Gaius' snores just beyond his door, but before long, he fell asleep with Mithian's voice in his mind, calling him her warlock.
As Merlin was settling into his new chambers the next day, a soft knock interrupted his organizing. He was surprised however, to see the royal tailor flanked by Arthur, Gwen and Mithian.
"Come in," he invited them, opening the door wide.
"Angus is come to measure you," Gwen explained as they entered and got set up. Merlin looked to the two ladies questioningly, wondering why he needed to be measured, though their expressions revealed nothing. Merlin just shrugged and let the tailor get to work.
"What are you here for?" Merlin asked Arthur as the king sat at Merlin's table and put his feet up.
"Such a nice way to greet your king, Merlin. I'm here to spend time with Guinevere," Arthur said loftily.
"Don't let him fool you, George is scrubbing our floor and Arthur's running away from him."
"I am not!"
"Why else would you come to watch Merlin get measured?" Gwen asked, her smile fond but knowing.
"Someone has to make sure he doesn't look like a fool."
"Isn't that what we're here for?" Mithian teased. Arthur didn't respond.
"What sort of clothes did you have in mind?" Merlin asked Mithian.
"It's up to you, they'll be your clothes," she chuckled.
"It's your wedding too, though."
"Merlin, this isn't for the wedding; it's for your new wardrobe," Gwen explained.
"What's wrong with the clothes I've got? They're perfectly fine, barely any wear to them! New clothes would just be a waste," Merlin protested.
"Merlin, if you consider that shirt barely worn, I'd hate to see what you think is ready for the rag bin," Arthur argued. "You're my First Advisor now, you can't go around looking like a rumpled peasant."
"But I am a rumpled peasant, so what's the harm of looking like it?"
"I'll burn every last bit of those rags if you don't wear your new clothes," Arthur threatened.
"You wouldn't," Merlin protested.
"Try me," Arthur taunted.
"I will, then," Merlin vowed.
"I'll make a big spectacle of it in the courtyard."
Merlin would come to regret scoffing at the king in disbelief. Arthur, as it turned out, hadn't been joking. Merlin and Mithian returned from a ride in the countryside the next morning to see Arthur in the courtyard, happily tossing huge lumps of brown cloth into a conflagration on the cobblestones.
"Is that what I think it is?" Merlin asked incredulously as Arthur reached for a small red and blue pile. Merlin jumped off his horse and just managed to save his neckerchiefs from the flames.
"My mother made these!"
"They'll clash with your new clothes," Arthur insisted, though he didn't protest when Merlin gathered up every last scarf. Hunith had made them, after all.
"Are you ready for your first council meeting?" Arthur asked as he and Merlin moved towards the council chambers.
"It's not exactly the first time I've been in a council meeting, you know."
"You're not pouring wine, this time," Arthur countered.
"No, but I'll still be trying to stay awake," Merlin joked as he and Arthur entered the chambers and moved to their places at the table. Several council members were already there, milling around the room and murmuring to one another.
Lords Olwin and Vidor were standing in a cluster of relics, as Mithian would say. Merlin could feel their disapproving eyes on him and he looked in their direction with a raised eyebrow. Gaius was the last to arrive, having finished his rounds later than usual.
"Good, let's get started," Arthur said, drawing everyone to the table.
Nearly an hour later, they had discussed taxes, a minor illness in the lower town, and the constant struggle against smugglers. Merlin had followed along readily, though he hadn't said much. It was the same things the council had been arguing over for the last year, and Merlin felt there was little that he could add that hadn't been said already.
"Are there any last orders of business?" Arthur asked.
"I have," Lord Vidor spoke up.
"What would you have us discuss?" Arthur asked.
"My lands are having some issues with thieves and liars. Chickens and eggs are being stolen and my grain stores were looted last week."
"Are you sure the people in your lands have sufficient provisions?" Arthur asked, remembering his experience with Anhora.
"The harvest may have been affected by blight, Sire," Vidor admitted.
"Did you then lessen their required tribute?" Arthur asked, recalling the way Kanen had terrorized Ealdor, attempting to plunder every last sack of grain the villagers had harvested.
"I did as I saw fit," Vidor said, which everyone understood was a round about way of saying no. "My concern is what should be done with the thieves."
"Surely mercy should be shown for those desperate to feed their families, their children," Merlin interjected, knowing precisely what the gnawing pain of an empty stomach felt like and how it could affect otherwise good people.
"I cannot encourage looting," Vidor argued. "I haven't caught anyone in the act, but I would like to enact a Trial by Ordeals to find the culprit."
"Trial by Ordeals?!" Merlin asked, appalled at the thought.
"Yes. You do know what the Trial by Ordeals entails, don't you boy?" Vidor drawled. Then Merlin could see exactly why this entire topic had been introduced. Lord Vidor was trying to draw him in and make him look the fool. Merlin's eyes hardened and he smiled humorlessly at the noble.
"Yes. The Trial of Ordeals was introduced at least fifty years ago, possibly even further back. Those accused are given a red-hot coal, stone or rod and asked to hold onto it for a certain time. Or the accused is blindfolded and told to walk barefoot over a bed of coals. Healing of the wounds indicates innocence. Festering shows their guilt. How this could possibly be seen as reliable, I've no idea. Are we to assume that any person with a festering wound is guilty of some offense and therefore in need of punishment? Or if someone who is witnessed committing a crime heals, are we then to let them go, regardless of their true character?"
"What would you know of healing? Or law and character for that matter?" Vidor sneered.
"Gaius hasn't had me grinding herbs and helping him for nothing. Neither have I been standing at the back of this room for the better part of the last decade twiddling my thumbs, Lord Vidor," he said with no small amount of impertinence.
Arthur had to cover his mouth to hide his grin when Vidor blustered.
"My Lord, I demand you put him in the stocks for his impudence!"
"Lord Vidor, I've never put a man in the stocks for telling the truth, and I'm not going to start now. If you have a problem with my First Advisor, then I suggest you take it up with me privately. Using these meetings to try and make Merlin look like a fool only makes you look like one," Arthur said, gladly refusing as he'd never liked Lord Vidor. Arthur's stern expression cowed everyone at the table save for a beaming Court Physician and one impertinent advisor.
"What am I to do about the thieves then? Do I have your sanction for a trial by ordeals?" Lord Vidor asked grumpily.
"I will not allow you to enact such an archaic practice," Arthur said firmly. "You'll have to post a guard to find your thieves like anyone else would."
"What then should be done with them? Shall they be hung for their crime?" Vidor suggested cruelly.
"If I could make a suggestion?" Merlin cut in. Vidor glared at him, but backed off when Arthur cleared his throat.
"What do you have in mind, Merlin?" the king asked.
"Well, as Vidor has said, the crops in his lands were affected by blight. These men are likely stealing food because they were forced to give more than they could afford in tribute."
"How dare you-" Vidor growled, only to be cut off by Arthur.
"Hold your tongue, Vidor, if you wish to keep your seat here on the council. Merlin? Please continue."
"I suggest you post the guard, as the king suggested, but do so secretly. Once the culprit or culprits have been caught, rather than hang them, put them to work on your lands for a time and pay them with the foodstores collected from the tribute. The thievery is stopped, they and their families are fed, and the debt for their crime is paid."
"This is an outrage!" Vidor exclaimed. "I cannot employ thieves and looters!"
"You will do precisely that, Lord Vidor," Arthur said. "Lest you become known as much a thief as these hungry men struggling to feed their families. No, you are worse, for you knew they did not have it to give in the first place. If you cannot abide by this solution, the tribute paid to you will be surrendered to the Crown of Camelot to be redistributed appropriately to the people."
"You are defiling the kingdom with your extravagant mercies," Vidor protested. "You've tainted this council with this farcical advisor."
"Over the years that he has served me, Lord Vidor, Merlin has helped me see that the greatness of a kingdom should be measured by the hard work and resulting happiness of all its subjects and not by the extravagance of the high-born. Merlin's wisdom has helped make Camelot a great kingdom. It is a grave insult to both his and my honor to say that Merlin's position in the court taints it in any way. I take exception to such accusations, Lord Vidor, and I will warn you one last time, not to make such statements again. This council is dismissed."
"That went well," Merlin said sardonically as the last of the councilors filed out. Arthur laughed humorlessly.
"It did, actually," Arthur agreed, utterly serious. "I've been wanting to say something like that to Lord Vidor for some time now, but he's such a bootlicker that I lacked the opportunity. I should reward you for so thoroughly putting him in his place; it seems you were born for this."
"Perhaps I was," Merlin said, musing inwardly at how close to the mark Arthur truly was.
"You handled him like you had been trained as long as I have been," the king admitted, though Merlin could see the open sentimentality of the conversation was making the king uncomfortable.
"I've had plenty of experience," Merlin answered cheekily, relieving Arthur from his awkwardness. The king's mouth dropped open in amused shock, knowing exactly what Merlin was doing.
"Experience?! Are you saying that I was as bad as Vidor?"
"Of course not," Merlin replied. "But when we first met, you were such a prat that I never would have thought that we'd be sitting here like this."
"Shut up, Merlin. I've not been a prat in years."
"If that helps you sleep at night, Arthur, go ahead and believe it," Merlin laughed, then darted for the door before Arthur could reply, allowing the king privacy enough to allow himself a fond smile.
Thanks for reading! Having Merlin tell off a stuffy noble felt so good!
