Here you go! Next part is up!

"You know, he's fine, Arthur. I can practically smell you brooding from all the way over here," Morgana said, inspecting her fingernails as she leaned on the wall across from his cell, smirking like an ass.

Arthur glared at her, even if she couldn't see it. It truly was sad that Arthur had begun to look forward to seeing Morgana of all people.

It was strange what captivity did to a man.

Morgana wasn't even supposed to be seeing him. Yet, in the four days he had already been in the dungeons, she had been the only soul he had seen other than Guinevere when she had come to retrieve the Mortaeus Flower and the random servant who brought him his meals.

He couldn't figure out why she of all people came to visit at a clear risk to herself. If caught, Uther would by no means hesitate to put her in the cell right next door.

Not that he was complaining. As much as they squabbled and bickered, seeing Morgana was like a breath of fresh air that blew out the staleness of his cell.

"I don't suppose you would tell me if he wasn't," Arthur grumbled.

Morgana pushed off from the wall and grabbed the bars. "It's lovely to know you think so poorly of me, Arthur. I may be a lot of things, but I'm not cruel. I wouldn't hurt you like that by lying. Merlin is weak and still ill, but Gaius says he'll make a full recovery. He says he should be well enough to serve you by the time Uther decides to let your sorry ass out of here." She huffed and leaned back into the wall.

"Morgana…" Arthur trailed off.

"You're worried and you don't know how to handle it. You've only known him for three months, yet you care about him just as much as me or Gwen. You're protective of him because of his situation, and it's killing you that you haven't been able to check on him, to defend his honor if something were to happen like the knight in shining armor you think you are. You've never felt this drawn to someone before, and it's scaring the hell out of you, but oh no, princes don't get scared. Guess what? Everyone gets scared. What you're feeling is normal, especially for the most emotionally constipated person I've ever met. Now, when you get out of here, if you don't stop dancing around him like some silly damsel, I am going to do something for you," Morgana ranted. Arthur stared at her in shock. He snapped his jaw closed, not even having realized it was slowly hanging open as Morgana spoke.

"How…how dare you," Arthur sputtered. He could feel his entire face flaming red. He was sure even the tips of his ears were flushed with anger and embarrassment. That was something that only looked good on Merlin.

Damn it.

In his mind and only to himself, Arthur silently admitted she was right. He was terrified. He had never felt such feelings for another person like he did for Merlin. Anytime he saw him, it was like his brain stopped functioning. It was all he could do to keep his eyes from roaming, his thoughts from drifting. Insults and jibes had become his best defense mechanism. If he was telling Merlin how idiotic he was, it was almost like he could forget that he actually meant clever. When he told Merlin how stupid he looked, he truly wanted to say pretty.

Arthur hadn't come to identify his feelings as what they were until his little vacation to the dungeons, all because of the very man who had been consuming every waking moment of his consciousness.

As a punishment for disobeying his orders and going after the antidote to save his manservant, Uther had sentenced Arthur to a week's long stay in the dungeons, but not before crushing the flower he had almost died retrieving right in front of his eyes and dropping it outside his cell as a reminder that there were consequences for his actions.

Arthur had never been more furious with his father in his entire life.

It was one thing to deny him from going after the antidote in the first place, that was bad enough, but to blatantly destroy the very thing that would save Merlin's life when Arthur was just out of arms reach, that was so much worse.

Arthur didn't think he'd be forgiving his father for a long time.

If he ever did.

"Oh, grow up, Arthur. Someone had to say it."

"And that someone had to be you?"

"Of course. Who else would tell you when you're stupid and being an ass?"

"Merlin." Arthur said it so quietly, he wasn't sure Morgana heard him, and he wasn't sure he wanted her to. He didn't know why he had said it, but now that he had, he knew it was true. As much as he hated to admit it, Merlin kept him in line. He wasn't afraid to tell him when he was acting like a pompous prat. Secretly, it was something Arthur appreciated.

Arthur could count on one hand the number of times in his life he was as terrified as when Merlin had collapsed to the floor at the banquet, poisoned chalice rolling out of his limp hand and echoing in the silent room. He still didn't know how he had gotten to the raven's side. One moment he had been standing next to his father, pleading Merlin with his eyes not to be so stupid, not to drink from the damn cup just because he was so idiotically loyal. Of course, the boy had the option of ignoring him much more easily than most, and he chose that option often. Then had been no different. He simply raised the chalice like he was giving some sort of twisted toast, signed something to Arthur, and chugged down the liquid within.

It had been annoying the hell out of Arthur that he still didn't know what the sign meant.

The next moment, he had been almost on top of Merlin, desperately resisting the urge to cup the raven's face, to feel his heartbeat, to lean down and listen for air entering and exiting his manservant's lungs, trying to avoid doing anything to show he cared.

He hadn't even fooled himself.

And then, having to carry Merlin's unconscious body back to Gaius' chambers had been torture. Feeling the fever heat and sweat seep into his tunic had made him nauseated, knowing that it was all because of him. He hated the way he had to have him slung over his shoulder. He had already been struggling to breathe as it was, being nearly folded in half like he had been surely didn't help. But carrying the boy the other way would have been too conspicuous. Too intimate.

Arthur didn't think he would have minded.

Morgana smiled like she had a secret. Why did everyone smile at him like that whenever he talked about Merlin? "Well, until you can have your precious manservant back, I will be taking on his duties of keeping your head from swelling bigger than it already is. I must admit, however, I don't know how he does it. It's quite an exhausting job."

"Thank you, truly. As always, Morgana, your input was neither useful nor needed."

"So, you're saying I could just quit coming down here for the rest of your little stay? I'm putting myself at quite a risk as it is…" she trailed off, smirking as she brushed dust off her dress.

Arthur glowered at her. She knew it, too, if the way her smirk grew was anything to go by.

The sound of voices filtered down the hallway. Morgana stood abruptly, eyeing the shadows that appeared on the wall carefully.

"Well, that's my cue. Leon is supposed to be on guard duty, so I should be alright. It was simply enlightening as always talking to you, Arthur dear." She shot him a cheeky smile, flipped a long lock of black hair over her shoulder, smoothed the wrinkles from her dress, and began to trek down the cobblestone hall.

"Morgana!" Arthur called after her, crawling to the bars and pressing his face against them to try and get a glimpse of her. She turned back. "What does this mean?"

He held up his hand, putting his pointer finger, pinky, and thumb up, leaving the other two down. "Merlin did this to me right before drinking the poison. What the hell does it mean?"

Morgana laughed a full, hearty laugh. "Oh, Arthur, you simple-minded fool. You really can't see what's right in front of you, can you?" When Arthur continued to stare at her as if his brain quit working, she grumbled to herself in an oh-so Morgana way. "Never mind. I forgot your head was just nice to look at, not actually useful." The grin was back in place. "I have a feeling you'll be figuring out the meaning of that particular sign very soon." She said no more as she whirled around and headed down the hall, Arthur listening to the fading sounds of her heels on the stone floor.

He slumped against the wall and ran a hand over his face. When had his life become so complicated?

0000

Arthur was absolutely not jealous of Lancelot.

No matter what Morgana said.

Who cared if Lancelot was the perfect man, sweet and selfless and compassionate in all the places he wasn't? Who cared if he was boyishly handsome with luscious hair and was currently staying in the same room as Merlin? Who cared if Merlin and Lancelot were as close in two days as it had taken Arthur and Merlin nearly five months?

Arthur certainly didn't.

Merlin's love-life was none of his business. The boy was a free citizen of Camelot; he could pursue whomever he wished. It wasn't like Arthur was going to stop him.

So, why did it hurt so much when he saw Merlin whispering in Lancelot's ear, practically hanging off the man, on the side of the training field while Arthur worked with his knights?

He hadn't even known who the man was, only recognized the name from one Merlin had mentioned in passing. He hadn't forgotten it easily, either. He had seen the look in his manservant's eyes when he spoke of the wanna-be knight. He hadn't liked it one bit. Because he was distracting Merlin from his duties, of course. That was all it was.

Maybe he had shoved Lancelot a bit too hard. Maybe cleaning the stables was a bit of a harsh test. For all he knew, Lancelot would be one of the best knights he had ever come across.

He was simply putting him in his place, reminding him who was the prince before the man's head could swell at the prospect of sparring with the legendary Arthur Pendragon.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the raw jealousy and anger that flared in Arthur's heart when he saw Merlin jabbering away to Lancelot in the way Arthur secretly adored, and Lancelot smiling softly at Merlin like he was the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

Arthur's Merlin!

What had been the icing on Arthur's metaphorical cake of hurt and jealousy was when he peeked into Gaius' chambers, intent on asking his manservant to join him on his nightly patrol around the castle for companies' sake. Not because of the way Merlin's blue eyes shimmered in the moonlight like starshine, making Arthur's heart flutter until he felt like he was positively going to choke on his own emotions, something he was not at all used to.

He had seen Merlin sitting beside Lancelot at the table, patiently showing the other man some signs, Lancelot laughing at something the other boy said.

Arthur had never left somewhere so quickly in his entire life. He had been livid. Merlin had barely known Lancelot for two days, yet he was teaching him to sign! Meanwhile, Arthur had to stumble and fumble his way through Gaius' confusing books and even more confusing teachings. It was awful.

If Merlin suddenly found himself with double stable duties the next day, Arthur couldn't be blamed. It was his own fault for believing Arthur to be so shallow he would truly not want to learn something completely unique to Merlin.

Even now, sitting at his desk trying to go over some law proposals, he couldn't focus. Arthur growled to himself and thumped his head against his desk. Merlin wasn't his anything! They were barely friends. He was a prince; he had no time nor the need for romance. When the time came, he would marry for diplomacy. That was that.

Oh, how his heart ached at the thought of sleeping with another yet waking to Merlin's radiant face, knowing he could never have him in the way he wanted. It was enough to physically hurt.

Arthur knew he had to beat Lancelot in the fight the following day. He had already proven he was an exceptional fighter during Arthur's test in the lower town. He won, and he left. Losing wasn't an option.

0000

As it turned out, he had lost quite spectacularly.

To be fair, Lancelot had played dirty, not at all like a knight. He had resorted to trickery to win a fight, something Arthur had never found honorable, even less so when coming from Lancelot. However, procedure was procedure, and as much as Arthur wanted to say procedure be damned and send Lancelot on the first horse out of Camelot, he was nothing if he didn't keep his word. His father had knighted Lancelot, though not before Arthur had put him under the guise of decapitation. That had been quite fun.

Just because Lancelot was now a knight didn't mean Arthur had to be nice to him. He had every intention of being only cordial enough to be professional but giving him a cool shoulder of dislike and arrogance outside of interactions on the training field.

Arthur still wasn't quite sure how he had lost, though he knew his utter distraction by Merlin on the sidelines had something to do with it. It certainly hadn't helped when Lancelot looked to Merlin right before their fight began, looking for support. Merlin had smiled that wonderful, brilliant smile of his and opened his hand, touching his middle finger to his chin and turning it outwards in a quick flick of his wrist then proceeded to spell out a word. Arthur had learned enough from his studies to know he had signed good and spelt out luck.

Arthur had bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood.

Mid-fight, he glanced at Merlin and Guinevere out of the corner of his eye, seeing them both cheering and giggling like children as the grains of sand slowly drained down the hourglass.

The anger from seeing them blatantly cheering against him, mostly Merlin, was enough to fuel his hit to Lancelot's face, effectively knocking him out.

Or so he had thought until he leaned down to grab the flag from around his belt. Lancelot had flipped him over and hit him in one fluid motion, stunning the prince and leaving him lying dazedly on the grass.

It had all led to his current position, sitting less than a foot from Lancelot in the middle of the banquet celebrating his knighting, drinking a cup of mead.

Arthur would be lying if he said he hadn't looked for Merlin upon entering. He could see him in the shadows across the room with Guinevere, the both of them quietly chatting with both their lips and hands. Merlin tended to make himself scarce during large events, only performing his required duties to Arthur. The blonde quickly realized Merlin easily got overwhelmed in situations like they were currently in, where he was surrounded by hearing people, all laughing and talking and moving around at the same time. He couldn't understand what most of them were saying and having so many people around without being able to hear if anyone was behind him made him anxious.

Arthur understood. It was why he always tried to keep Merlin right by his side during these such events, so he could slyly get him away if he could tell he was getting too overwhelmed or keep him away from particularly disapproving nobles. Well, that was mostly the reason.

Lancelot glanced in the same direction as Arthur. "He talks quite highly of you, you know."

Arthur looked to the other man in surprise. What Merlin called him to his face was bad enough. He had assumed what Merlin called him behind his back had to be absolutely dreadful. "Really?"

"Oh, yes. I swear he spoke for an hour last night about how you could be such a "clotpole", whatever that means, but you were a good man. I can see why he would think so," Lancelot said.

"Yeah?" Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows. He was sure the warm feeling that filled his veins wasn't just from the mead.

"Of course, sire. I've only been here three days, yet I can see what kind of man you are. You genuinely care for your men, despite how harsh you can be on them. I can tell you just want what's best for them. You care for your people more so than I've seen most nobles. I'm proud to serve under a man like you, my lord," Lancelot said. He smiled gently at Arthur, the same smile he had seen him giving to Merlin. He was beginning to believe it may just be the way Lancelot always smiled.

"Lancelot, I don't know what to say."

Lancelot ignored him. "You know it's quite impressive that you would allow someone like Merlin to have such a high position within the royal household."

"If this is about him being deaf, so help me, Lancelot…"

Lancelot settled him with a look so sincere that Arthur stopped mid-threat. "All I'm saying is I admire you. Not many nobles would allow him such an opportunity. Especially with the freedoms you give him. The universe can sometimes seem unjust, taking his hearing from him in the way it did. Especially since Merlin's one of the kindest, gentlest people I've ever met."

"He is, isn't he?" Arthur said quietly, gazing fondly as Merlin twirled Morgana, who had at some point wandered over, and Guinevere to the beat of the song being played on the lute. His cheeks were flushed with happiness and the heat from all the bodies in the hall. Arthur watched as he threw back his head and laughed, and though he couldn't hear it, Arthur could imagine the sound as if he were right beside him. A joyous, twinkling laugh that filled up any space and immediately lifted the mood of any room.

When he turned back to Lancelot, the new knight was watching him amusedly. "What are you looking at, Sir Lancelot?" Arthur grumbled. "I can assign you to sentry duty for the next month, you know."

Lancelot chuckled quietly and gazed at Arthur over the brim of his cup. "Guinevere's quite something, isn't she?" he asked, allowing his eyes to wander to the same spot Arthur's had been just a moment before. A look shone in his eyes that Arthur had never seen on the man before.

But he'd seen it in the mirror plenty of times, especially after a certain clumsy manservant had just been through.

Seeing that look on Lancelot's face, not directed at Merlin, caused a wave of relief to wash over the prince that he wasn't too prideful to admit. Lancelot and Gwen would be perfect for each other. Both sweet, kind, soft-spoken people who would never try to hurt each other. Arthur could full-heartedly get behind the pairing.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, taking his turn to smirk amusedly at the knight. "I would say she is."

"This may seem too forward, and I apologize if that is the case, but do you know if she has anyone?"

"Her father."

"Sire, you and I both know that's not what I meant."

"I'm jesting. I don't believe so. At least not one that I've seen. Though, I will admit, I don't spend enough time around her to truly say for sure," Arthur answered truthfully.

"Do you think it would be wrong to ask for her hand in courting?"

"No, not at all. You, too, are a good man Lancelot, that much I have learned in the last three days. You would be good for each other. A girl like her won't be available forever. I say take the chance before you lose her."

Lancelot sighed and set his cup down. He clapped Arthur's shoulder, and the prince didn't shy away from the touch. It was actually nice. Steady, reassuring.

"I think I'll be turning in for the evening, but I will be giving what we talked about a shot, rest assured. Thank you for the wonderful evening, sire," Lancelot said. "You know, you may find it beneficial to follow your own advice. There are certain people who you have to take a chance on while you can. Like you said, some are too good for the rest of us to be available for long." Lancelot glanced to where Merlin was very animatedly telling the girls something in a flurry of signs and words.

Arthur couldn't help but feel that was a bit targeted.

Lancelot gave him one last smile before disappearing into the dissipating crowd of guests.

Why did it seem like everyone knew something he didn't?

0000

The next day, Lancelot was gone.

Even after Arthur had found out it was all a lie, that Lancelot had never actually been the fifth son of Lord Eldred of Northumbria, or even nobility at all for that matter, Lancelot had still been one of the noblest men he'd ever known. He'd helped him to defeat the griffin even after being exiled.

And he'd protected Merlin. The great beast had swooped upon him from behind, nearly turning him into his next meal. Lancelot had stepped in to protect him.

Arthur couldn't be mad at someone who defended his manservant at risk to his own life.

As the prince watched Lancelot walk into the tree line, away from Camelot and the only dream he'd ever had, Arthur found himself sad to see him go.

With any luck, the man would be his knight someday once more.

There you go! Chapter 3 all done!